#my therapist was asking me if I missed having friends and I of course stumbled and stuttered for half a minute bc I’m bad at talking

[floral-hex]

an old friend texted me some pics of us from waaaay back when I was fresh out of high school and I have to say that it is way too late in the evening to be making me this nostalgic! Rude!

[leclerc-drives-in-circles]

Tornado Warnings. Part one???

Rafe Cameron x kook!!fem!!reader

A/n:I wasn't really sure the lyrics of this Sabrena Carpenter song in the first place but I did some research and I'm so glad one of recommended this. Thank you!!! And if you want more just tell me

And I do not proofread so I'm sorry in advance about the grammar and yes English is my first language but I'm just lazy.

Warnings: fluff, Rafe being cute and drunk at the same time, nice Rafe 🥵🥵, swearing. not much more💙💙💙

Staring off into space wondering what you should say sucks sometimes because you want to tell your therapist about the last time you saw him but...you don't instead of telling the truth and saying "We might have kissed." You say "I haven't seen him since the break up." Still wondering if you should say his name knowing if his name is brought up by either of you you would start crying your eyes out.

"Are you sure?" Your therapist says definitely not believing your last statement.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You say getting defensive at the question. Of course you don't want to tell your therapist that you hooked up with your ex who you've said you hated since you broke up.

She raises her eyebrow at the statement not knowing what to say next because she knows for a fact you will deny every accusation directed toward you. "Y/n, you're going to need to put Rafe in the past soon."

Y/n, getting ready to fake cry to make it seem like she cares but knows that she could just stop talking and leave anytime. "I-I don't know if I'm ready for that." You say completely faking but your therapist certainly can't tell and you can see that from her attentive look you are still trying to read because she makes this face so much amd you still don't know what I actually means after 4 years of weekly therapy.

You sit in uncomfortable silence for a while until her alarm goes off telling her that your appointment is over and it's time go get ready and go home. You've never stayed that late but today felt different. You leave the building and climb in your car and the first thing you do is check your phone and as always there is a text from Rafe saying "when do you get home? I want you."

You drive away smiling at the message when your phone dings again. This time it's a text from your best friend JJ Maybank saying "I just saw Rafe at the Club are you okay if I tell you what he said?" Looking at it wondering "what the hell?" But you can't respond because you're driving you decide to call JJ instead. "Hello?" JJ says in his goofy voice he uses when he talks to you. "Hi...?" You say unsure as to why you really HAD to call him.

"So do you want me to tell you what he said?"JJ asked truly curious.

"Uhh...I guess?"You say still confused. "You better hurry up. I'm almost home and I'm having some people over for dinner" you come up with quickly not knowing if he believes it you're still proud of yourself.

Oh okay...anyways he said and I QUOTE drunk off his ass "I miss y/n" Like What the actual hell does that mean? Right?" He says in disbelief.

You just having to go along with it say "yeah that is really weird" dragging your words for a little bit before you get to your front soon and start grabbing your keys from your backpack. "Okay I have to go guest's will be here soon and I still need to clean up a little bit byeeee"

Okay. I love you by-" he says as he gets cut off by the beep telling him you hung up in a rush.

As soon as you hang up you text rafe to hurry up because you're finally home amd he quickly jumps in his truck and speeds across the two block between your houses wondering why he didn't just run he knocks on your door and as he waits impatiently for you to open the door he starts yelling at your camera you have by your front door "Hurry up! I need to touch you!" He says with his words slurred and stumbling just a bit. And as you open the door you see him almost fall on top of you.

"What the hell, Rafe?" You say truly worried.

"Heyyy babyyyy! How wass youur dayyyy? Sluring every other word unknowingly. You sit him down on the bottom step of your stairs in the foyer to your house.

"Hey, hey, hey. What happened handsome?" You say absolutely confused but also happy that JJ knew exactly what happened.

Rafe shocked you called him handsome looks at you in complete adoration and love "HI Beautiful...nothing happened I just had.......a lot of tequila." He says while counting on his fingers and raising all of them to show you he doesn't know how many.

"Babe! You can't do shit like this to me and forget to mention it." you say sternly so he knows you're talking to him.

"I'm sorry baby! I just wanted to say I loved you." He says trying to sober up a little bit so he can smile without the influence of alcohol.

You laugh at his attempt at charming you. "It's okay. Hey, let's get you washed up and in bed. Okay?" You say softly knowing how bad of a headache he'll have in the morning.

"Okay." He says already drifting off to sleep.

"Nope! Come on Big Boy! You need a shower first and then we can cuddle and watch movies all day tomorrow." You say knowing neither of you have work or school tomorrow.

He smiles and nods his head in response because he is wayyy too tired to answer as of right now.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. You get up and slowly and quietly walk down the stairs, turn into the kitchen and lean on the doorway to the attached dining room just staring at the bare back facing toward you.

You can't help but just stare for a few minutes blacking out shortly after and you come to your senses with Rafe standing in front of you with his arms wrapped around your waist. "Good morning, Beautiful." He says with a sleepy smile.

"Hello. Why are you up so early?" You say with a quizzical look on your face.

"Sweetheart, it's 2pm." He says wondering how long you were awake last night.

"Oh, well, Good Morning to you too." She says with a small still half asleep smile. "What are you making for breakfast?" You say needing answers as to why your ex boyfriend/little hookup is snooping around your kitchen cooking you breakfast after he came to your house drunk last night.

"I wanted to be nice. Is that so bad Pretty Girl?" He asks truly curious. You stare off not knowing what to say.

"Sorry, I know your trying to get better but why were you so drunk last night?" You ask wanting to know what happened for him to leave his 2 months of sobriety for a whole night of drinking just to be happy the next day and act as if nothing happened.

"I don't know. I think it was about you not answering my text last night, maybe." He says ashamed at his prior actions.

"Babe, I was at therapy and didn't see your text until I was home. Okay?" You say with a tad of empathy in your eyes but then again he is a legal adult and should know better.

"Oh, sorry." He says asking himself why he did it mumbling to himself so fast not even an auctioneer could tell what the hell he just said. You walk over to the cabinet above your dishwasher to grab a few plates from the top shelf and when you seem to struggle you feel a large set of hands on your waist lift you and place you about a foot away from the cabinet. He reaches up and grabs the plates. And slowly inches you toward the dining room so you still don't know what's for breakfast.

He brings in a large stack of Chocolate chip pancakes and a bottle of syrup. When he sets everything down he walks away back to the kitchen doing this all while being completely silent and when he walks back in he's holding a large bowl full of your favorite mix of fruit (you can tell me which fruit you want and I'll eventually make a little run down of EVERYTHING about y/n if you just dm me or send me an ask about it I will do all of it if I see yours first like favorite color fruit etc.) When he sats down the bowl in front of you he places a slight peck to your forehead and you act like you pass out to cover the fact that you're blushing at the action.

"Princess, Are you okay?" He says truly worried about your head being stuck down because you refuse to look up at him.

"Fuck!" You say looking up terribly red. He just smiles at you realizing why you're bright red.

"I'm sorry, Beautiful. I didn't realize that's why you suddenly became so shy." He says attentatively toward you.

"It's okay I just wasn't expecting that kiss. Thank you for breakfast by the way." You say genuinely grateful.

"Brunch, Beautiful. It's brunch." Rafe says Matter-of-factly. You look at him and roll your eyes sarcastically.

"Fine! Brunch!" You say enunciating oddly.

"That's better. How was therapy yesterday?

You look at him with an awkward smile "it was..." You stop wondering what the hell to tell him "It was therapy for sure." You look at him after saying that with the most uncomfortable, disappointed 'why did you ask' kind of stare.

"Babe...what does that face mean?" He asks genuinely curious not knowing what to say next.

"I...I don't know, honestly." You say absolutely positive you DO know.

"Okay...hurry up and eat. I want to watch a movie." He says urgently.

"Which movie?" You say really scared as to what movie he has chosen to make you watch.

"Mmm" He says to think for a little bit longer not expecting such a fast response to his statement.

"Mmm what? What is happening in that odd brain of yours?" You say quietly after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"I know what movie we're going to watch." He says suddenly. Acting weirder rhan normal.

"Okay...?" You say after wondering what kind of weird-ass stuff he's doing.

Sorry it's a little bit everywhere didn't really know what to do bc this was my first story so...yeah! If you enjoyed please let me know and do the same if you want more too. I was kinda throwing this together over the span of like...4 days? Idk. Hope you liked it bye<333

[harryspet]

cement walls | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark!bucky barnes x reader, non/dubcon sex, fingering, kidnapping, forced pregnancy, confined spaces, Stockholm syndrome(?), post-blip bucky, bucky needs some therapy, forced gender roles

[A/N] uhm so this is what i’ve been working on and like usual i have no idea where i wanna take it :):) i haven’t posted in a long while so i figured i would put this out there for some feedback! this is pretty much inspired by Room if you’ve seen that movie. [gif credit to https://jamesbrnes.tumblr.com/]

In which the outside world is too dangerous for you and Bucky is the only one who can protect you. 

taglist: @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes  @watercoolerpaint @disaster-rose @slutforsebstan​ @doozywoozy​

main masterlist

word count: 3.3k

Within the cement walls that surrounded your home, you imagined that you had your own little planet. You spent hours of your days thinking about what surrounded you, if there were floating rings like Saturn had, the constellations you could make out only if you could only see the entire sky, and how the sun would really feel on your bare skin. You were beginning to forget what that felt like and you sat below the skylight trying to reach into your mind and remember.

Maybe you should be grateful that there was even a skylight at all and that there was enough room for a small kitchen and bathroom. You imagined that's what he thought. You could move around freely with no chains so you should be grateful. Almost three-hundred square feet of your new planet that you should be glad to have. Except you didn’t even own the ground you stood on, this planet wasn’t really yours, you were just an astronaut trapped in space. 

That morning, you scrubbed the floors, not only because the military man preferred organization but also because the small space got dirty quickly. After taking your vitamins, extra Vitamin D of course, and munching on a stale granola bar, you got to work. You made the twin bed up, making sure the sheets were tucked in tightly before organizing the small amount of clothes in the wardrobe. 

When you heard the beeping of the keypad outside the door, you stood up, shutting the wardrobe. You weren’t expecting him, not having gotten to the kitchen yet, but alas your moon man appeared. You couldn’t help it, you always looked past him to see what you could have of the outside world. You saw nothing, his figure was only surrounded in darkness as he shut it quickly, and it beeped as the metal door locked again. 

It was like he liked the idea of you not knowing where you were. He’d brought you into this room unconscious so you had no idea whether you were still in Louisiana or not. For all you knew, you could be floating in space and it wouldn’t matter. 

The tall man’s hair was cut short, like he’d just gotten a haircut, and you hated that the room was already beginning to smell like his cologne. He held a brown bag of what you assumed were groceries, “You haven’t been here in more than two weeks. I’ve been cleaning my clothes in the sink. I started rationing food t-thinking you weren’t going to come back.”

He set the bag down on the small kitchen table and you watched his eyes roam over the dirty dishes, “I wouldn’t leave you here, doll face,” Bucky assured you, “C’mere.” He waved you over and you stepped forward cautiously. 

“W-Where did you go?”

He reached up to hold your face, the leather brushing against your cheeks as he looked you over. You wore a green smock dress with a cardigan tightly over you, the box having been cold the past few days, “I had business. Far away business.”

“You’ve never been gone this long.”

“Did you miss me that much?” You wanted to roll your eyes. If Bucky didn’t come back, you’d die in probably the worst way possible and no one would know what happened to you, “I brought you back plenty of groceries, I even got you some oreos and that fancy bread you like.”

“Bucky …. I-I was so so scared. You don’t understand-” He leaned down to kiss you and when your lips didn’t move against his, he grabbed you roughly by your hair. You held in your yelp as you forced your lips to move against his. He held your hips, deepening the kiss and when he pulled away, his hands were still in your hair. 

“I’m here now, “ He looked at you sharply, tugging your hair a bit, “But it seems you can’t keep the kitchen clean, no matter how much time I give you.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, the words slipping out before you could even register them. 

He gestured his head over to the sink, “Get to it. And the groceries as well.” 

You moved past him, turning on the warm water before grabbing a sponge. You felt his eyes on your back as you began to clean all the pots and pans you’d been using. You heard the rattling of his belt, his jeans being pulled down, the sound of his boots being stacked to the side, and the grunt he let out when he tossed his jacket over the kitchen chair. 

When you placed everything in the drying rack, you moved onto the bag of groceries. He had gotten the bread you liked so you had something to look forward to that week, “I had to see that lady again.”

“You mean your therapist?”

“It’s court mandated bullshit,” You looked over and he was examining your desk and bookshelf. All the books you had were given to you by him and all the decorations were paper origami that you’d gotten good at making. 

“What did you guys talk about?” You asked hesitantly, putting things away in the cabinet. 

“She thinks I need more friends, more social interactions I suppose but that’s what she says every week,” You heard your bed creak as he sat down, “Hey, make me a cup of coffee, doll.”

“Oh,” It was clear that whatever that therapist was doing, wasn’t work, the biggest piece of evidence being the girl he was holding captive right now. You moved over to the coffee pot, pouring what was left into his favorite mug, “Do you … ever talk about me?”

You could feel his body stiffen even from across the room. 

“Why would I?” When you turned around, his eyebrows were furrowed, his hands on his knees. 

You crossed the small room with the cup in hand, “Well, you interact with me. I’m like your friend, right?” You handed him the drink, standing back as you watched him take a sip, hoping he’d be satisfied with it. 

“You know why I can’t tell her about you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I was just thinking … “ You sat down a few feet away from him, “Does anyone else know about me?”

“You’re curious today.”

“It’s not like I have much entertainment in here,” You said a little more snarky than you intended. You felt his mechanical arm push into the mattress beside you as he turned his head, “Sorry … when do you think I’ll get to leave the room? Not outside, just out of the room. Maybe to where you sleep at night.”

“If you’re going to be like this today-”

“Forget I said anything,” You smiled weakly, “Please.”

Bucky set down his cup on the small nightstand before he urged you closer. You scooted closer and he gently pushed your head down until it was resting in his lap. You felt his cold hand through your sweater and the other through your hair, “I know what it’s like … feeling trapped,” You pulled your feet onto the bed and he continued to stroke your hair and you welcomed the comforting touch. 

“Then why …”

He shushed you, “Mind over matter, Y/N. It’s all about training your mind to adjust. You’re safer here, you’re taken care of here, and your mind is still trying to convince you that you don’t belong here.”

“I wouldn’t try to escape if I could just stay with you…”

He shushed you again, “I spent decades frozen and then, after that, I was trapped in my own mind. Now everyone’s trying to convince me that I have this new chance to survive in the world. They genuinely think of this new century as being so amazing, so much technology, and opportunities but it’s a lie, Y/N. This world is nothing but danger and death. You’re much better without it.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheeks. You felt like the chains around you were only getting heavier. He was so delusional that you thought it would be easier to start believing him, “Please don’t leave for that long again.”

Bucky sighed, “I’ll stay here for the night. How does that sound?”

You hiccuped, “T-Thank you.”

Later that night, you were lying beside bucky in the small bed. He was fast asleep but you were wide awake, looking up at the skylight. The full moon was lighting up the room. Carefully, you tossed your feet over the bed, doing your best not to disturb the soldier. You got onto the floor, crawling towards the carpet in the middle of the room. Oftentimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d lay down and stare up at the moon. 

You stayed like that for lord knows how long, drifting into a place where all your thoughts were silent. 

“What are you doing?” You sat up quickly, your heart racing as his gruff voice snapped you from your trance. 

He was shirtless, standing above you, and rubbing his tired eyes. You simply pointed up, “The moon.”

“Get back in bed,” He commanded groggily. 

You scooted over slightly, “I can’t sleep ... just come look with me. It’s beautiful.”

“You act like you’ve never seen the fucking moon before, Y/N,” His frustration caught you off guard as he reached down to grab you by your arm. You didn’t mean to but, on instinct, you flinched away. That only led him to grabbing your harder, and you stumbled as he pulled you up, “Get in the bed. You scare me to death when I wake up and can’t feel you.”

“If you care so much then why do you leave me in here for weeks on end.”

His eyes flickered with hurt for a moment, “I won’t … ever again. You need far too much discipline for me to let you be on your own for so long.” You rolled your eyes as you turned away, walking towards the bed. 

He grabbed you roughly by your waist, pushing you onto the bed. He pushed you further into the mattress, his hand on the back on your neck, and you were reminded just how cruel he could be. There was a point months ago when you stopped fighting it, knowing in the end he would overpower you, but sometimes your spark appeared. 

He lifted your nightgown easily, knowing he wouldn’t find any underwear to tear off, and his hand cupped between your legs. As you struggled beneath him, he felt you, rubbing and running his fingers over your lips, “Me being deep inside you seems to correct your mood. Is that what you need from me, doll face?”

Your spark appeared and went quickly, knowing he could feel your wetness, giving him the permission to sink two of fingers inside you. He moved slow, his knees pressed deep into the bed, as he watched your lips part with a gasp. 

“That’s it …”

This was his favorite, knowing he could get you off with just his fingers, his fingers curling against your most sensitive areas. He fastened his pace, pushing in and out of you as you lay there bent over. Knowing you were nearing an orgasm you were sure not to run away from, he moved his vibranium arm from your neck and underneath you where he stimulated your sensitive bud. 

“That’s my girl,” He coaxed you as he sent you into a shaking fit, “You finish so well on my fingers, so beautifully.” You came hard, Bucky enjoying the vulnerable view of your face. As he let you go, you pushed down your gown and laid down on your side. The bed dipped as he took a seat, rubbing your thighs as the post-orgasm regret filled you. 

“You ever think you have some control over me, I want you to remember this.”

8 months later … 

You flipped through the channels six channels that the old television would provide. The soldier thought buying you one would decrease your book intake which he was struggling to keep up with as you read several per week. He wasn’t a fan of technology but the two of you had a long argument about it and he eventually caved. 

You weren’t sure if he knew but the TV picked up a local news channel and you got a glimpse into what the world had been like over the past year. Every now and then, there’d be a mention of Sam Wilson and you figured that’s who he was disappearing with when he was gone for weeks at a time. 

As you neared closer and closer to your due date, he’d grown nicer than usual, though the way he’d gotten you pregnant wasn’t pleasant at all. “You complain so much about being lonely.” He had said when you’d missed your period, “This is what you wanted, right?” 

You weren’t sure if you were just nauseous from the pregnancy or if the idea of raising a baby in that room was making you sick to your stomach. Sometimes you caught yourself being selfish, thinking about having someone to take care of and take up your time. Having someone who could love you properly, in a way that Bucky didn’t quite understand. 

“How’s my girl? And how’s my mini me?” Bucky was an abnormally good move when he came down to visit you that night. He was carrying magazines in his hand and you crossed the room, curious to see the details, “I thought you might want to look at nursery stuff.”

“There’s gonna be a nursery,” Your lips pulled into a smile, “Where?”

“Here,” He gestured around and your smile fell, “You can’t be too far from the little tike. I was thinking we could put the crib where your desk is.”

You took the magazines from him, resting them on your protruding stomach, “Oh …” You tried not to sound sad, “You don’t think that maybe the space is too small? I mean, a mom and baby and sometimes you, that’s a lot of people for one room. And when they get older ….” You imagined having a happy little baby but you tried not to think about your child growing up in a box. 

“When he gets older, we’ll think about it then,” He stated, already gendering the baby without any actual knowledge. He refused to let you see a doctor, only brought you prenatal vitamins, expecting that you’d have a smooth delivery right here in the room, “For now, it’s plenty of room.”

You nodded, “When he gets older, will you take him outside the room? Kids need space to play and get fresh air.”

“I’ll think about it, Y/N,” Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

You didn’t want to push the issue further, not wanting to spoil his mood, “I think a light green will be a good, neutral color for everything. Maybe we can decorate his side of the room.”

He smiled, “Whatever you’d like, doll face.”

You crossed the room, setting the magazines down on your desk, and a scary idea crossed your mind. A scary idea and chance you might just have to take if it meant you could get help. You were getting nowhere screaming at the top of your lungs, hoping for someone to hear you, and asking Bucky over and over again just to let you have fresh air. He was suffocatingly protective and that didn’t seem like it was gonna change. You couldn’t let him do that to your child. 

You made dinner and he slept over that night, his vibranium hand holding your waist the entire night. 

You planned to catch him off guard the next morning, figuring you’d have the best chance of causing a panic while he was still tired. You got up, whispering that you had to use the restroom, and you slipped inside the room. You read somewhere that only a fourth cup of water comes out when your water breaks, so you fill a cup before drenching your underwear, legs and the bathroom floor. 

“Bucky!” You shouted, making sure you looked scared in the mirror, “Bucky!”

The door almost flew off its hinges as the soldier went into full alert. His eyes were wide, examining you, “What-What happened?”

“I-I think my water broke,” A tear slipped down your cheek. 

“It’s too early,” He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. All the books say it's a gushing feeling and that was definitely gushing.”

“Maybe we should wait … we can wait and see if contractions start-”

You shook your head furiously, cautiously stepping forward, “We have to see a Doctor. W-We have to … contractions are supposed to start before my water breaks a-and I’m only 29 weeks. I can’t have the baby naturally.”

“But-”

“We have to! Please, Bucky, a-all I care about is the baby. Please, I don’t want to lose them. Please don’t make me-”

“Okay, okay,” He nodded, grabbing your face as he wiped your tears, “Uhm …. let's get dressed. There’s a thirty minute drive to the hospital,” You nodded and his eyes narrowed at you, “This is for the baby, remember that. You pull anything and-”

“I know,” You placed your hand over your stomach, pulling away from his grasp. 

Your body was heavy when he led you out of that room. You felt your reality shifting as you entered the world again. What surprised you most was how normal the rest of the home was, not particularly homey, but it was nice and spacious. There was even a full front yard and, sadly, you imagined the happy family that could have lived here. You half-expected him to have a wife and kids that he was hiding you from. 

Now, sitting in the hospital bed, you watched him paced around, not paying attention to what the Doctor was saying. 

“So she’s not in labor? She felt her water breaking.”

“No, Sir. Based on the ultrasound, the amniotic fluid levels are normal. I’m not sure what happened, could be a multitude of things, but it was most likely a false alarm. But don’t worry, it happens all the time. And your baby looks very healthy.”

You opened your mouth to say something but Bucky’s eyes narrowed at you, a warning. 

“Okay, thank you, Doc.”

“Do you two have a primary obstetrician? One isn’t listed-”

“Are we free to leave?”

The Doctor took another look at you, as if he was trying to understand our relationship, but if he noticed anything, he didn’t say it, “Yes, you’re free to go. I would just make sure to keep a sharp eye out and give your obstetrician a call if you have a question-”

“Of course, thanks, Doc,” Bucky nodded as he forced a smile. With his dark jacket and black gloves, it was hard for him not to look intimidating. 

The Doctor looked down at you with a warm smile, “Let me know if you need anything, ma’am.”

Say something. 

Say something. 

If you were going to say something, this would be the time. Why did Bucky have such a hold on you even outside of the room?

As soon as the Doctor left the room, Bucky turned away, frustratedly packing up your bag, “Get up, get dressed, let’s go.”

“Bucky, I really did think-”

“If you don’t want someone in this hospital to get hurt, I’d get dressed and keep your mouth shut.”

You moved your legs to the side, real tears beginning to fall down your face, as you struggled to get your dress on. Bucky noticed your sniffling from the corner of his eye. He moved towards you, kneeling down beside the bed, “Hey, I’m sorry …. I’m just stressed out. I don’t like you being here ... but everything is going to be okay. Our baby is perfectly healthy and we’ll be home soon. There will be no more interruptions after this.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod in agreement knowing that your own opinion didn’t matter. Bucky was god, enforcing his will on you, and claiming he knew best. You felt so small in comparison to him but there had to be something left within you that could keep fighting, that could keep you from going willingly back into that room-

“Y/N?”

You perked up, “Yes?”

“C’mon doll face, let’s go home.”

hope you enjoyed! not sure where i want to take this so feedback will be much appreciated!

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

[cowboy-like-mee]

please, just say it

summary: harry fucked up and you’ve had enough

warnings: little bit of smut at the beginning, lots of angst

word count: 2k

a/n: hi! hopefully this isn’t awful lmao. i had fun writing this. sorry it took a bit for me to finish. i kinda hate the end but it’s fine. please reblog if you like!!! and leave me feedback or requests here!!!

and consider buying me a coffee here <3

masterlist

"Fuck, Y/N! Just like that, baby." Harry moans out as you bounce up and down on his cock. Your legs were burning and you honestly weren't that close, You just weren't as into it tonight as you normally are with him. You can tell he was enjoying himself though- his head was thrown back on the pillow behind him and his mouth was open in pleasure. His hands are lazily rested on your ass, not helping you move on and off him at all. 

"Shit, a-are you close?" He speaks out to you, pulling you out of your trance. You think for a second, not knowing if you wanted to lie just to get this done with or if you wanted to make him work to get you off. 

"Not really." You shrug, continuing to grind yourself onto his cock, feeling the coarse hairs around the base of his cock digging into your clit. 

Not expecting that answer, his head snaps up to you as he tries to bite back his moans. 

"Shit, I'm sorry. What do you need me to do?" 

"Um, can you get on top? And rub my clit?" You say shyly, despite the number of times you have done this together.

He flips you both over in one swift movement and begins railing into you, hitting the spot inside of you consistently. His hand reaches right above where you're connected and rubs tight circles into your clit. You can feel a small orgasm building up quickly.

"Is that better, baby?" He says into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine because of the huskiness in his voice. You nod and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to force your release. 

"Come with me, Y/N." Harry groans out, his hips stuttering. You feel a small bubble release in your belly, spreading warmly throughout your lower body. He pulls out as soon as he's done releasing inside of you. He plops down on the bed next to you, his arm resting on his abdomen as he catches his breath. You turn over onto your side and curl up under the covers, feeling extremely vulnerable and small. 

Your throat burns, tears stinging your eyes. You sniffle quietly to yourself, hoping Harry can't hear you. You can't believe you've let yourself get to this point. You're disgusted with yourself. Silent tears spill down your cheeks. You swallow down the sobs bubbling in your throat. You wish you could disappear right now. 

The bed dips next to you, signaling Harry's departure. You're quick to wipe the tears off your face. Harry pulls his clothes on quickly. "I'm gonna head out," he says. When you don't reply he gently shakes your body. "C'mon, I know you're awake." You're frozen. This could be the moment when you finally let him in.

"Alright, whatever. I'll text you when I need you-" He says, but quickly cuts himself off when he sees you roll over to face him with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "What's wrong?" He furrows his eyebrows at you as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

You sit up and pull your legs into your chest. "H... can we talk?" You speak lowly. He sighs, almost sounding annoyed. Even though you've known each other for a few years, you don't think you've spent over two hours together in one day in a year. This is pushing the imaginary time limit he set for you two. You know Harry, and you know he likes to fuck you and leave, or fuck you and send you on your way if it was at his place. 

"Sure." He shrugs. "What's up?"

You take a deep breath to prepare yourself for the words you're about to spill out of your mouth. "I don't think I can do this with you anymore." You spit out so quickly it's almost inaudible. He immediately reels back in shock. 

"W-what? Why? Is it something I did? Are you not satisfied? I-I know I can do better. I mean sometimes I don't always try. Have you been faking it? I promise I'll do better-" He rambles on and on and you just sit there in silence as he worries more about his ego than the way tears are welling up in your eyes. You clench your jaw at him.

"Harry!" You yell at him. "Listen to me!" He slowly nods his head. "I...I just-" You sigh, trying to think of the right thing to say. "I just haven't been that into it lately and... I just have a lot of stuff going on in my life right now." Tears spill down your cheek as you speak.

"I can help you-" He tries to intervene.

"No, Harry. You don't understand. It's nothing you can fix. I just need to be left alone. I've had a lot of fun with you, but I think it's best for both of us right now." 

"But how? How is it better for me? I need you." He tries to reach for you, but you flinch back. 

"You don't need me." You mumble under your breath, hoping he didn't hear you. 

"What?" He says, cluing you in on the fact he just heard you say that. 

"You don't need me, Harry! You need my fucking pussy!"

"What the fuck does that mean, Y/N?" He says while clenching his jaw.

"Apparently, I'm only good enough for a quick fuck, Harry." You say mocking the tone he just used on you. 

"Well, that's all we agreed to, is it not?" He raises his eyebrow at you. 

"We agreed to hook up with no feelings! Not using me for your own pleasure every god damn day! You never even greet me or ask how I'm doing! You just push me up against the nearest wall and kiss me! What if I didn't even invite you over for sex and you kissed me without asking, huh?"

"Well, fuck, Y/N, I didn't realize I was supposed to be your therapist before I fuck you! And you ever invite me over for anything other than sex anyway!" He screams out.

"God, you're such a fucking asshole! I'm not saying that! We used to be best friends and now I can't even remember the last real conversation we've had. And I never explicitly say I want you to come over for sex! I just ask for you to come over and you assume that every time. Maybe I just want to hang out with my old best friend!" You scream out. 

His jaw drops in shock and he's quick to defend himself. "You can't put this all on me! It's on both of us, Y/N! You could have tried talking to me too, and if you want to hang out without fucking you should have said something."

"I have tried! You never fucking listen to me, Harry! Everything I have said to you in the past year has gone in one ear and out the other." You scream.

He stares at you in silence, not knowing what to say. He knew he hasn't been the best to you the past year, but he didn't realize it was this bad.

"You fuck me and then leave two minutes after we're done, or should I say when you're done! You can't even look me in the eye when your dick is inside of me. What did I do wrong, Harry? I just miss how we used to be. I want to go out to eat with you again and have movie nights and paint each other's nails. I just want us to be how we used to be! Before we even began hooking up. You never stay over for longer than two hours. It's like your not physically capable of it. Am I that terrible of a person you can't even stand to be around me anymore? You used to be my best friend and now I don't even know if I can qualify as a friend." You say choking back your sobs. 

He tugs on his hair and sighs. "Fuck." He says to himself. "I never thought it would get to this point, Y/N."

You roll your eyes. "What does that mean?" 

"How do you expect me to have sex with you multiple times a week while continuing being your best friend without catching feelings for you!"

"What's so bad about having feelings for me, huh?" You say looking him in the eye with the most heartbreaking look on your face.

"Nothing is bad about that, I just don't need a relationship right now." He explains.

"You're the one that initiated the first kiss between us, Harry. You knew I had just gotten out of a relationship. You knew how sad I was. You took advantage of me."

You stare at him hoping he would say something. You stared at him hoping he would admit that he kissed you that night because he liked you as much as you liked him and not because he felt bad for you. You hoped he would own up to everything he's done to you, apologize, and confess his love for you, or else you might as well just pass away right there

When he said nothing, you continued, "And just because you have feelings for me doesn't mean we have to be in a relationship. I don't understand. You've made me feel like shit just because you don't have time for a relationship right now? Have you ever noticed that you've been doing this or are you just as clueless as every other straight man on this planet?" 

"Of course I didn't notice. I would never purposely make you feel that way! I'm not a complete dick." 

"I just..." You trail off, unsure if you should tell him your next thought.

"What? Tell me, Y/N." He says 

"I just wish you wanted me as much as I want you." You say sadly, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N, I-I don't know what to say." He says sadly grabbing your hand in his larger one. 

"Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it."

"I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, don't leave me. I-I will be better. I s-swear. You are enough. I'll stay. I miss how we used to be too. We can go back to how we once were. I swear. " He sniffles, tears welling up in his eye.

"Harry..." You whisper.

"Y/N..." He whispers back.

"I need you to leave." You say as strongly as you can manage.

"W-what? But, I thought y-you..you just said" He stumbles over his words, letting several tears slide down his cheeks. He stands up and looks at you.

"Please, Harry. I can't do this anymore. I need to move on. I've been waiting for over a year for you. You had your chance. You broke my heart." You shake your head as you speak, trying to hold yourself together.

When he stares at you saying nothing with silent tears streaming down his red cheeks, you continue. 

"And you wanna know what the worst part of this is?" You choke out a fake laugh through your hot tears. "You're the one I would usually run to after something like this, but you're the one that did this to me."

You stand up out of bed pulling your t-shirt back over your head along with a random pair of sweats on the ground, not bothering with panties. You quickly make your way to leave your house, before turning around at your bedroom door. You turn around to look back at Harry, he's standing there looking at the spot on the bed where you just were. You shake your head and sigh loudly.

"And please be gone by the time I get back." You say and make your way out of the house, getting in your car and speeding off to clear your mind. 

Fuck him. 

[hollyhomburg]

(Tw: accident, ptsd, soulmate au) I just thought of a really cute soulmate au- kinda going along with the theme of calamity in our daily lives. The m/c and yoongi both have the soulmate system of “your mark will apear once you’ve touched your soulmate for the first time- and it will be the same mark”

The day you meet, it’s normal if not for the pleasant forboding that comes with a day that’s going to be bad and good all at once. She crashes into yoongi on a crowded street in the middle of February, the button on his jacket gets tangled with one of her necklaces, and pops it clean off. They banter, and she picks up the button and puts it into his pocket, and before he can think any better, he asks her to a cup of coffee and a walk along the river.

They talk, he picks the clovers and she puts them in his coat pocket too, “what is this like a reverse pit pocketing situation?” He laughs, and gives you the button. It’s nearing the afternoon and really you both need to go on your separate ways but “do you mind if I walk you to the train station?” “Not at all stranger” it’s been hours and you still haven’t exchanged your names. Like a joke, yoongi only pauses to ask her before she reaches the gates- the platform below.

I have this vivid image of her standing there just before- yoongi asking “I know this might be a bit much- but would you like too-“ the train is so loud he has to raise his voice- so loud, are trains usually this loud? a sound and a boom below, the world rumbling and the smoke bulliowing out, of the doors and people screaming. a train crash that unseats your day- a day that should have been a happy one. Yoongi catches you as you stumble.

you and yoongi head down through the crowd. Yoongi finds an old woman struggling to get up the steps, her Cane fallen. and the next moment- youre slipping down the steps your hand sliding from us as you go to help anyone that can’t get up the stairs with the escalators and elevators disabled. and he’s carrying her up, stopping to help her climb onto his back.

He looks and looks but in the craziness of the accident he looses track of you. The news casters are there- so are fireman and police man and yoongi is the only famous face, it takes 10 minutes before yoongi gets recognized and then more- when his phone blows up from his friends and family making sure he’s okay. Namjoon texts in their group chat along with a flurry of others “let us know you’re okay or elce were going to march down there ourselves”

It makes quite the headline- the idol that saved the grandmother (and two others- but really he dosent think helping a pair of siblings- two elementary school students on their way home from school, and yoongi didn’t do anything but sit with them until their parents found them). But regardless of the reporters and policeman desperate to get a statement- yoongi finds himself only searching through the crowd to you, finding you nowhere- and he hopes- hopes you wherent hurt, or that you’re not still down there- that you might have gotten trapped by the smoke.

Yoongi asks and lingers as long as he could before a company car is there to pick him up. And it’s only when he gets home and takes off his soot stained jacket with the missing button and finds it, a red circle on his inner arm- the mark that tells him today he met his soulmate, inside the circle a tiny clover. Same as the ones you’d put in his pocket, now crushed and wilting.

Yoongi puts it in a jar and sobs until his lungs feel raw. only tells the others why when they beg to know, seokjins firm hand on his shoulder, jimins arms around his waist. Namjoon by the door- his fresh soulmate mark showed off- a marvel that hoseok thumbs. Reason comes in the form of Kim taehyung- and thank god for him- for his steadiness.

“She probably didn’t die, there where only a few fatalities yoongi, and we know all the names- why don’t we go through their faces again.” Jungkook sits with him again and again to go through them and reassure him that- that his soulmate isn’t dead. But still sometimes yoongi wakes up. His therapist calls it ptsd, takes him through complicated sessions and prescribes him medication that makes his head spin until he stops taking them.

Yoongi gets used to living again, takes walks without being afraid of every loud noise, and though he never quiet manages to take the train again he does go on national television a few weeks after the accident. Someone tries to give him a Medal of Honor and he refuses- saying that anyone would have gone inside. the real hero’s he tells the camera, are the fire fighters and medics.

He definitly does not mention meeting his soulmate that day, even if it probably is his best chance of being reunited with you again is a public announcement like this. it feels too private to confess like this. And he knows news of this would only send their fans into a tizzy trying to figure out his soulmate mark and recreate it on themselves.

It happens just as the first day had, yoongi is just walking back from a takeout place container in his hands. It’s summer- and hed be wearing short sleeves if it wasn’t for the damned mark on his arm. when he spots something- glimmering and out of place on the sidewalk.

he stoops down to pick up the chain- blinking in disbelief as he sees it- a familiar button on the end of a chain. He hears the foot steps then- thudding against the concrete as you look wildly- the face of someone whose lost something special to them. he could never forget the face of his soulmate no matter how many months it’s been- never.

Your eyes meet his across the street and it’s like that day all Over again. Yoongi dosent know why his eyes are wet when you walk up to him. The first thing that comes to mind a question. Not what he wants to say- not I’ve been looking everywhere for you, please just tell me your god damn name, and even more- I think if I don’t stay next to you if I let you out of my sight again that you’ll disappear from view forever.

No what he says is: “You kept it.”

“of course I did”

and of course they sit down and talk about what happened the day of the accident- how she ended up on the other side of the street and the entrance after helping another woman carry her stroller up the stairs. How you’d hit your head near the top and needed to be taken to the hospital for stitches, the scar that lights just on the edge of your hairline- a small thing really- any less bad and you wouldn’t have gone and yoongi never would have lost you.

“You saved me that day you know? If I hadn’t had you to talk to on the platform- then I would have been down on that track when the train derailed” yoongi humms and holds you closer, where you lie- his takeout forgotten in the grass- the same place you met before. You’ve come back to him- that button keeping you togeather when even fate couldn’t, if you’d never dropped it- then who knows how long it would have taken to find you. he dosent want to think about that. “What are soulmates for?”

You both get better, talk through your ptsd. And with you yoongi finds something that every therapist and diagnosis had been lacking. You grip his hand tightly and let him know you’re there with every loud noise. And every time he gets twitchy or overstimulated in public you lead him quietly away or if you can’t- you find little things to point out to him- grounding him against the panic in his head.

And many days when yoongi kisses you on your doorstep and ends up late for work- he’ll plunge his hand into his pocket and find small things, a sweet- a more, sometimes- a spare button. And he always texts you back a selfie and “this reverse pitpocketing has got to stop”

That night and many nights after, Yoongi Thanks fate for badly attached buttons, clover, natural disasters, and everything that’s brought you to him.

[theharrowing]

The Hooksborough Demon 🤍 11: Rushed and frantic and diagonal

You and two friends ventured into the location of an urban legend with the intention of exploring an abandoned building and having a laugh at small town lore for clout.

But after a series of mysterious events, you have turned to a forum a year later to try to piece everything together, and to find out what the fuck happened to Yoongi & Jimin.

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🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader 🤍 word count: 1.1k + comments 🤍 paranormal au, urban legend au, found footage horror, gore, poly, smut, nsfw, 21+ 🤍 warnings: haunting imagery 🤍 beta read by @neoneunnajimin 🤍 posted jan. 2022 | read on ao3

Home / Local Legends / The Hooksborough Demon / The Hooksborough Three

The Journal & Texts (posted by TH3 on 01/26/2021)

There is not much to tell about the events following us escaping the mall. We went back to the hotel and drank enough beer that we blacked out. Housekeeping came pounding on our door to get us to leave because we slept through checkout.

The room was a mess, littered with beer bottles, and blankets were strewn about. It looked like someone had thrown a party. We did our best to tidy up but ultimately stumbled probably still drunk into the bright sunny early afternoon, drove until we found a rest stop on the side of the highway about 40 miles out of town, and went back to sleep.

Initially, we were going to get a different hotel in the city, closer to the airport, and unwind for a few days before flying back to our respective homes, but we did not have much energy and instead checked into another roadside motel later that evening and holed up. I do not remember eating or drinking much for those few days.

Yoongi was already pretty lost, mentally. He would space out for long periods or wake up in a cold sweat screaming about the mist. By the time we were set to go to the airport, I had to drive because Yoongi was having trouble staying focused, and he did not seem very alert while checking in to his flight. We hugged goodbye, and that was it.

I reached out several times, but I never heard from him again.

Several days after they got back home, Jimin contacted me to say that he would be editing the video and that he would let me know if he found anything of interest.

And then Yoongi was reported missing.

And then Jimin mailed me their journal.

And then he sent me a string of erratic texts before he, too, went missing.

And, of course, I never heard from him again.

I am not sure why Jimin left a message in their journal for me rather than just writing to me directly. Most of the journal is filed notes, with the exception of three entries, two from Yoongi and one from Jimin. This is my first time reading this since the first day it came to me, about a year ago, and I did not fully remember the contents of the entries. It has been really difficult to open this book, but I promised in one of the earlier forum posts that I would.

Yoongi's entries are translated from Korean.

"The excavation happened a week ago, and my dreams have been strange since then. I keep going back to the mall, and it feels like I am really there. I feel like I am slipping more and more from reality every day. Is it because I saw the fog? I do not know how to understand this."

"I have to stop dreaming. What if I do not come back? Nobody believes me. My therapist does not want to talk about it. I told Jimin not to watch the video, but he will not listen. I do not know how to stop dreaming. Although I drink caffeine all day, I am forced to fall asleep. I asked for sleeping pills, but I was denied a prescription. The fog is here too, I think. I thought I saw it when I tried to take a picture, yesterday. I am afraid to look again."

Jimin's entry was written in English, and the end of it seems to be directed toward me.

"It is as if he disappeared into thin air. He slept on my sofa, and when I woke up, he was gone. I've been trying to find him all day, but his phone has been off for weeks, so finding him wouldn't be easy no matter what, and he hasn't been talking to his family. I wonder if he's inside of the dream, the way the fog claimed us and took our bodies with it. Maybe it's here with me too. I called the police to report him missing, but they don't seem to care. They said he probably left town for a while and will be back. They don't take it seriously, and I can't explain the whole story without sounding crazy. I kind of feel like I am going crazy. If I disappear, maybe you can find us in your dreams too. If you watch the video. I know Yoongi would hate me for suggesting it, but it's the only thing I can think of. It's the only thing that makes sense. Or maybe it doesn't make sense. I don't know."

Two days before Jimin went missing, he messaged over Kakao, "I opened my camera and saw the fog. I think it's making me dream."

I responded, asking what he meant because at this point, I had not seen the fog smoke mist at all, and I assumed that it was just something that was within the walls of the mall and not something that they would be seeing and experiencing in Korea.

"The video brought the fog to me," was Jimin's next message, and again I asked him what he meant, but he did not respond.

Then, the day before he went missing, he sent a string of texts related to the fog. Now that I look back at these messages, I see one that I had completely forgotten about. I guess, because I had not yet watched the video and had not linked everything to the dreams, I did not realize the significance of Jimin saying, "Yoongi is stuck in the dream."

So does this mean Jimin found Yoongi while he was dreaming before he, too, went missing?

Maybe I need to stop taking my medication and try to find them inside my dreams.

Comments:

kira_kurosaki on 01/26/2022 am i even real? i'm not here, am i? i'm just your imagination...part of your dream...

y.g on 01/26/2022 it's not time for you to join us yet, stay alive a little longer

j.m on 01/26/2022 if she's ready let her come

// Prior to going on the medication, you would feel them in the dream, but you were never in the same instance as them, so you worry that if you stop taking your medication and go back to the mall, you may be trapped alone forever.

But it is a risk you are willing to take.

Tonight you do not take any medication. Instead, you sit up, rereading Yoongi and Jimin's journal, even the field notes, most of which are in Korean. You sip whiskey as your eyes rove over the words. You do not understand most of them, but you do not need to.

You study the line shapes and how they change over time, becoming more rushed and frantic and diagonal.

You think about the lines of their bodies, the shapes that you made together, how your forms blended together and became more rushed and frantic and diagonal.

You miss them. So much. //

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[ynscrazylife]

Begging you to write a super angsty Nat x reader fix where the reader has a near death experience and has to deal with the ptsd after w Nat!!

You’ll Get Through This

Summary: After suffering a near death experience, Y/N develops PSTD symptoms and her girlfriend Natasha does her best to try and help her through it.

Trigger Warning: Being stabbed/near death

Note: I do not have PTSD. I have researched how to write characters with PTSD symptoms to write this accurately to the best of my abilities. I would never want for this to offend or hurt anyone so PLEASE let me know if my portrayal is offensive and I’ll fix or remove it.

When writing this, I did my best to accurately write symptoms of PTSD and triggers that I have researched. Here are some of the sources that I used: 1, 2, and 3.

* Thank you to @nyx-aira who nominated this fic for “Best One-Shot — Angst Fic” in The Tumbies 2021!

No one saw it coming. 

Literally. 

The Avengers were on a mission and they had been fighting some aliens. 

And one alien, apparently, had the ability to be invisible. 

One second Y/N had been fighting and the next she was letting out a bone-shattering scream as she fell, and an alien revealed themself, having stabbed her in the stomach with a sword. 

Natasha could never forget hearing her girlfriend mustering out a weak whisper over comms. Those desperate words would haunt her dreams forever.

“Guys . . . I’m down. Stabbed.” 

And then silence. She had passed out. 

Natasha lost it. She yelled. She cried. She ran as fast as she could and hissed out orders at everyone else. The fearless woman had never been so fearful. The woman who everyone thought was emotionless had never been so emotional. 

Of course anyone close to her would know that she was fearful and she did show her emotions, but they could never be prepared for this.

Days later, Y/N was stabilized. Weeks later, she was able to leave the hospital and stayed, resting, at the Avengers Tower ever since. 

Everyone was worried for her, especially Natasha. Y/N was numb to the world. She barley talked and when she did she was angry. Who or what she was angry with? No one knew. But she was angry. And normally, Y/N wasn’t angry. 

When Y/N had approached Natasha, saying that she had wanted to be in her own room rather than their shared room, Natasha respected her wishes. However, the redhead couldn’t deny that it broke her heart. All she wanted to do was help and support her girlfriend, but she also didn’t want to push her, so she let her be, let her move into her old bedroom. 

Everyone was trying and failing to think of ways to help their friend and teammate. Y/N was distancing herself from everyone and she refused to talk about what had happened. 

The Avenger was sitting in her old bedroom now, immersing herself in a book she always loved to read. However, she heard a knock on her door and it made her jump slightly. After a couple deep breaths, she quietly said, “Come in.” 

The door slowly opened and Natasha poked her head inside, offering her a warm smile in hopes of comforting her. “Hey. Do you have a minute to talk?” 

Y/N thought for a moment and nodded, putting her book aside. Natasha’s smile got a little bigger and she stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her. There was silence as she sat down on the bed next to Y/N. 

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing? If you need any support?” Natasha said softly. 

Y/N bit her lip and shook her head ‘no’, looking away. “I’m okay,” she murmured.

She missed the slight tears that welled in Natasha’s eyes before she blinked them away. “Y/N, I . . .” Black Widow hesitated before continuing. “I’ve dealt with PTSD. I know the symptoms and-” 

Y/N stood up, facing the wall and cutting her off. “I’m fine, Natasha,” she hissed. 

Natasha looked up at her, internally sighing. “I don’t want to push you. I want to be there for you if you’d like,” she started to say in a broken voice. 

Y/N turned around to face her girlfriend, enraged. For half a moment Natasha thought she was going to be yelled at and prepared herself to take it, but was surprised when something else happened. Y/N was clearly mad, but she was holding it back, and because she held it back, tears came instead. 

“I appreciate it and I know you don’t want to push me but I just can’t talk about this. I can’t think about this, Natasha. I’m trying not to think about how much it hurt and how I thought I was dying, okay? I know someone, maybe not you, but someone is gonna try and talk to me about it and I don’t want to remember it! It’s painful,” she interrupted, before letting out a noise of frustration and exhaustion, and walked out of the room, leaving Natasha speechless. 

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

A couple days after that, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner stood around a table in Bruce’s lab. That table had the sword that Y/N had been stabbed with, scrubbed of the blood. The two men wanted to study this sword, for it was unlike everything they’ve ever seen (it was alien, after-all). They also hoped it would give them information on the aliens they fought on their mission. 

“Tony,” Bruce said, staring down at the sword. The billionaire hummed, prompting the scientist to continue. “We've gotten everything we can out of this sword - it isn’t much. If we want to know more, we’ll need to ask Y/N.” 

Tony turned to him. “Y/N? What could she tell us?” He asked, confused. 

Bruce sighed. “She was the one who was stabbed with it. She got a good look, felt the, er, sword, and was the only one who saw the alien who stabbed her. Maybe she can help us find them? Or she can give us a hint on why the alien stabbed her if a different alien was fighting her?” He reasoned. 

The two Avengers shared a look, both conveying regret and hesitation. Despite wanting and, well, needing to know more information, they were reluctant to ask Y/N, and were doubtful she’d want to tell them much of anything.

After their silent conversation, Tony made a decision. “FRIDAY, please tell Natasha to come down to Bruce’s lab if she can,” he said to the A.I. 

Two minutes later, the redheaded spy appeared. She furrowed her eyebrows seeing her teammates, wondering what they needed her for, but her eyes widened when she saw that damned sword.

“What are you doing?” She asked accusingly, crossing her arms. 

“We need to talk to Y/N about the sword. Has she been talking to you?” Bruce asked. 

Natasha frowned. She sighed and opened her mouth to tell the men of what happened the last time she and her girlfriend spoke, when a voice interrupted them.

“Hey, Bruce, can I-?” All three Avengers turned around to see Y/N, entering the lab and in the middle of asking a question. She cut herself off abruptly, getting a clear view of the sword, and stared at it momentarily.

All those memories. All those memories she had ignored. She was now being forced to remember them, as that sword was right smack in front of her. 

She stumbled back, starting to breath in short, ragged breaths, and feeling the need to get out and get out now. She had to get away, away from the sword, away from the pain, away from the memories. You’d think she had superspeed with how fast she moved, practically running from the room and looking for any safe space. Subconsciously, Y/N went to that safe space. She went to Natasha’s room, formerly both of theirs, and sat on the bed, trying to calm herself or distract herself or do anything.

As soon as Natasha had seen her girlfriend there, and saw her face transform into that of like a deer in the headlights, and saw her turn around and run, she panicked. Turning back to Iron Man and Hulk, Black Widow ordered, “Get the sword out,” and followed her girlfriend. 

She kept going until she saw Y/N enter their bedroom and followed her in after, catching the door before it shut. She then carefully shut the door herself and focussed her undivided attention on the love of her life. 

Y/N sat on their bed, hands clamped on her head. Natasha could tell she was trying to take deep breaths and calm down, but it wasn’t working. She had shut her eyes closed, tightly, and Natasha lowered herself to be in front of Y/N and at her level. 

“Y/N,” Natasha said softly, gently cupping Y/N’s face. “Follow my breathing, okay?” 

She began to take deep breaths and after a few moments, Y/N did too. They kept that going for nearly five minutes until Y/N spoke up. 

“I’m so tired, Nat, and overwhelmed,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. 

Natasha nodded. “I know, love,” she said, and then moved to sit next to Y/N on their bed. “I’m sorry about our . . . what happened the other day. You’re going to get through this, though, okay? I’ll give you my full support if you want it. Whatever you need, whatever you want, I’m here for you.” 

Natasha wrapped an arm around Y/N who leaned into her arms, nodding. “I missed you,” she said. 

The former agent smiled, resting her chin on Y/N’s head. “Me, too. We can also find a therapist if you want it, yeah?” She said, and then added. “I love you.” 

Y/N smiled a little and nodded again. “I love you, too.”

[wing-ed-thing]

Click (Part VI: Kiba)

Synopsis: You invited everyone out to dinner. You also audibly clicked. People had opinions about this.

Word Count: 1,555

Warnings: Language, Fem!Reader

Part I: Shikamaru, Part II: Shino, Part III: Neji, Part IV: Rock Lee , Part V: Naruto, Part VI: Kiba, FINALE, The Message in Click

Notes: Next part is the Finale. Excited?

You wouldn’t want him doing what he was about to do, but Naruto, quite frankly, didn't care. He thought long and hard about what you said to him the previous night and wondered if he was about to betray your trust. After long deliberation, he decided that the answer would be a dubious ‘no’. Kiba had been easy to find. He stood out in the open near an open ally with the rest of Team Eight. Hinata barely had time to get out a skittish greeting before Naruto violently shoved Kiba up against the nearest wall by his collar. Akamaru barked, but as Naruto scowled, the ninja hound quickly backed off.

“Nart, what the hell?” Kiba cursed, grabbing onto Naruto’s unyielding grip.

“Why would you do such a thing to one of our comrades?” Naruto demanded through gritted teeth and Kiba let out a resigned sigh.

“Look, I didn’t know it was her birthday, okay?”

“So you know what you did wrong!” Naruto shoved him harder into the wall behind him causing Hinata to cry out. She moved forward to rush to her teammate’s defense, but Shino’s arm jutted out in front of her. Hinata looked up at the Aburame, but didn’t spare her a glance. “What kind of scumbag ruins someone’s birthday dinner?”

“I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t, I swear.” Kiba held his hands up at the sides of his head, but Naruto wasn’t convinced.

“So you’re telling me that you weren’t going around the village convincing people to come to Yakiniku instead of Shushu-ya? Quit the bull—”

“Okay, enough,” Kiba shoved Naruto away. The jinchūriki stumbled back, nose scrunched in anger. “She happened to invite people to Yakiniku and I happened to invite people to Shushu-ya on the same day. Sure. But when did I convince anyone to ditch her? Please, take a second to think about it. Ask anyone you want because I never even once said that.”

And Naruto did take a moment to think. Kiba was right. Kiba didn’t talk to Shikamaru about dinner at all. Shino missed where to meet you and followed Kiba. Even then, he left partway through. Neji and Hinata chose to come to Yakiniku. Naruto and Sakura forgot you even asked them. He might have talked excitedly about dinner, but never did he mention you. Kiba only gave a second option and Naruto could at least see that much sincerity in his eyes.

“So you didn’t even stop to think why everyone was confused about which restaurant to go to?”

“Well, of course I did!” Kiba exclaimed, throwing his head back in frustration. “But you’re talking like I forced people to come with me. I didn’t. People could’ve chosen to not come and some of them didn’t.” He gestured to Shino, who stood silently and onlooking. His attention turned to Hinata, who flushed and turned her attention away. “And some people decided to come to Shushu-ya.” Kiba turned to face Naruto fully again. “If memory serves me right, Naruto, you were one of the ones who chose to come.”

“I was in the wrong.” Naruto huffed, his hands clenching at his sides. “You made no effort to correct people.”

“It wasn’t my problem to do that. Maybe I was the pushier one. Sue me, I wanted people to go to dinner with me! I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

“You don’t see how it’s your problem that you played a part in ruining someone’s birthday.” Naruto crossed his arms, standing firm in his confrontation. Hinata kept her gaze towards the ground, wondering whether or not she should excuse herself.

“You know what?” Kiba growled, “Maybe I played a part in all of this, but don’t come at me talking like I’m the bad guy ‘cause I sure as hell wasn’t alone in whatever this shit turned into. Sure, I don’t like her, but don’t act like you have all the information because you don’t.”

Kiba turned on his heel. Hinata and Shino parted, stepping to the side as their teammate stormed away. Akamaru followed his trainer.

***

For the second day in a row, a loud pounding came at your door. You answered it with a certain amount of perplexity, not used to having so many visitors. As soon as the door opened, Kiba let himself in. He huffed, marching into your studio apartment as you quickly dodged out the way of his determined path. Akamaru followed with his head low, sparing you a glance as apologetic as a dog could muster. You blinked and scrunched your brow.

“They let you take him up here—?”

“I’m not out to get you!” Kiba plopped down at your little table in the same spot that Naruto had sat the night before. You sighed and closed the door. Akamaru curled up around Kiba’s ankles. “I swear people think I’m wringing my hands in the dark thinking about the best way I can be an asshole.”

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Well what have you been telling people?” Kiba snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Your lips formed a thin line. You silently asked yourself when it became your job to play therapist for confused shinobi to air out their grievances to, but you couldn’t help but feel a tug at your compassionate side. You could kick him out any time he started to get ornery.

“Kiba, I’m open to having a conversation with you, but you’re the one who let yourself into my home. You can either talk to me with respect or you can leave.” You stood, feeling more comfortable standing a few feet away in the kitchenette. He sat silently at your table, looking downward and radiating an air of irritation. His hand came to his temple as he let out another huff.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He yielded and his forearm fell lightly down to the hand surface under his elbow. Kiba threw his head back and you finally came to sit across from him. The atmosphere felt familiar to you. Silence. He wanted to talk, so you waited for him to speak. Kiba opened his mouth before closing it. He looked to the side, letting his tongue dart out over the edge of his lip. “I didn’t know it was your birthday, okay?” He dragged a thumb over his chin.

“I didn’t know it was yours either.” Kiba’s eyes shot up to meet yours.

“So we can agree that we felt somewhat the same.” You let out a slight chuckle, sitting back in your seat.

“That depends.”

“‘Cause I thought that you were just inviting people out like usual. I didn’t think twice ‘cause,” Kiba fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “I just wanted people to spend time with me. And now I have people coming at me—”

“I didn’t even know that you were inviting people until later. And even then, I wouldn’t let Shikamaru or Shino tell me any details. I didn’t want to know, so no kinda confession needed here.” You narrowed your eyes slightly. “You got that sorted out? I’d hate for Team Eight to be fighting. I didn’t want to butt in.”

“Yeah, it’s as sorted as I could make it,” Kiba nodded, “It was a misunderstanding but I don’t think that Shino really believes me.” He glared at you from the corner of his eye. “Why do you care?”

“You’re my comrade and so is Shino.”

Kiba leaned, both elbows folded on the table. He stared you sternly in the eye, teeth slightly clenched.

“You know that this doesn’t make us friends, right?” He questioned, gesturing to the space between you. You sat still, hands folded in your lap.

“I assumed. You’ve made your opinion of me very clear,” You admitted with a shrug. “It would be nice if we could get along but let’s be real, you’re not obligated to like me.”

“Or you me.”

“That’s true,” You nodded your head a few times, “I never said that I didn’t and I likely never would even if I did feel that way.” More silence. Kiba made no effort to rise from his seat. He stayed, pouting. Akamaru shifted underneath the table, his tail swishing across the floor. If you had had more important things to do, you wouldn’t have remained as patient as you did.

“I’m sorry if I, uh, if you were upset,” Kiba finally opted. “Uh, I guess I took advantage of the confusion. And I’m sorry if you heard about some of the things I said.” You could poke holes in that apology all day, but you knew that this would be the best you would hear. You stood.

“I accept your apology,” You said, making your way to the door. Kiba scrunched his forehead. You chose those words very carefully, but he still didn’t know they actually meant. You opened the door, turning to face him. “Are we done here?”

“So you believe me, that it was all a misunderstanding.” Kiba rose from his chair, palms on the table. You looked to the side with a sigh.

“I’d like to, and we’ll get there. I accepted your apology,” You hesitated. “I like to believe that people have good intentions. You always have a teammate here.” You opened the door a bit wider and Kiba saw himself out.

Notes: It would’ve been too easy to make Kiba a villain. Let’s be honest, seldom do people who hurt us go out of their way to target us. Sometimes anger comes out of misunderstanding. Sometimes people who are on our side make things worse. No one’s wringing their hands in the dark and acknowledging that maybe their actions may create a bigger issue. Be aware of others. Be honest with yourself.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter six - “lake, the sequel”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: reader seeks out bucky after his dramatic exit and they find themselves earnestly conversing... back at the lake

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: this story is available on my wattpad as a bucky x OC fic @ / typicaldaze :)

He didn't like this feeling. No, he didn't like this feeling at all. He hated it, in fact. It was betrayal, bodily betrayal. He just could not sit in that room any longer or he would've peeled his skin off. His lungs felt as if they were bound with barbed wire and the state of his stomach had him worried he was going to throw up. Most of all he felt guilty. How could he have just stormed out of the room like that? She was going to hate him now. How could he let this happen?

He was thinking this over whilst sitting at the lake, hands in the grass, trying to distract the physical body from the mental cacophony he had just endured. He had somehow found his way there after leaving Y/N. These extremely unpleasant sensations were unfamiliar. Was he sick? Could he have been drugged? He was so confused. Bucky realized he seemed to be confused most of the time. Following that realization, he became mildly pissed off.

The super soldier stared out at the lake. It was a calm day, the water tranquil and clear. It was a stark contrast against his stress. He leaned forward and looked into the water at his reflection.

"Damn," he said out loud.

Is that really what I look like now?

His eyes traced over the long shaggy hair, dark under eyes, and the subtle but noticeable worry lines. This sight reminded him of when he broke the mirror at his old place in Bucharest. Now he remembered why. God, he looked as fucked up as he was. He leaned back and tossed a stone at where his reflection had been.

A deep sigh left his lungs, which were now conveniently working properly.

"Fuckers," he muttered, referring to the mercurial organs.

He had spent nearly two years alone in Bucharest, and he had grown accustomed to living in this new body. He was always on edge, that much he could tell. However, he was never too introspective; he never thought about his feelings or his behavior. All he was focused on was surviving. When there is more to life than survival, that's when things get complicated... not that they weren't complicated before. God, he was running in circles inside his own mind. His scarred and ruined and manipulated mind that resided in this body that was used as a tool for destruction and violence and death-

"Hey."

His head whipped around, startled out of his thought frenzy. Always on edge. Mentally, he shook his head in disappointment.

"Oh! (Y/N)!"

He stood up immediately. "Listen, I'm so sorry about before, I don't know what-"

"It's okay," she said quickly, holding up her hands. "Bucky, you do not need to apologize, everything is totally fine."

He was taken aback. Words didn't seem to work.

"I'm not mad if that's what you were thinking," she said.

"You're not?"

"No, of course not. If anything I was worried."

"I- Worried?"

"Yes, you were clearly in distress, and that room was the last place you wanted to be. I'm glad you found your way back here because you look much better now," (Y/N) explained with earnest eyes.

She could tell he was freaked out? She probably thinks he's insane.

"Yeah, I... I think I'm better now."

He was far from okay, but definitely better than before.

The psychologist sat down next to where he was standing. He didn't move, but looked down at her.

"I don't think it'd be wise to leave you alone here considering you're supposed to be in a session with me right now and you can't go anywhere without an escort. It would most likely lead to suspicion and then trouble you don't need. I'm going to stay with you. We can continue the session if you'd like, but if not we can just sit."

She said this all while looking straight forward at the water.

In all honesty he wasn't sure what to say, so he settled with a breathy, "Okay," before sitting down next to her.

"I'm getting the vibe that this is more of a just sit situation..."

"Yeah... I think I'm all therapy-ed out for today," Bucky said in a meek attempt at a joke.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a wide smile. He then realized that she didn't know he could see it, and that's why this smile seemed different. Most differents in Bucky's life hadn't been outstandingly pleasant. But this was a welcome different. This was a good different. It was genuine and unbridled. That was the most open he'd ever seen her.

Every now and then he forgot that he was a literal trained super spy. He may not have any PhD's, but he had his own way of reading behavior, cues, and subtleties. Perhaps he'd make an effort to be more observant. Perhaps he wanted to learn a little more about what else was behind this new different.

A few beats of comfortable silence passed before he heard the word again.

"Hey," (Y/N) started softly. "I'm sorry if I went a little too far today. I know I said our first session wouldn't be much, but I realize I was pushing too far."

"Oh, it's okay," Bucky replied, looking down at the grass between his knees. "I think it's more my fault anyway. It's not like the questions were super intense."

He let out a loaded sigh. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Bucky it's really okay. If it's anyone's fault it's mine. This whole process is supposed to be based on your comfort levels and at your own pace. And there's nothing wrong with you. Your reaction was completely normal given the circumstances."

Bucky wasn't terribly familiar with reassurance. He turned his head, looking at her dead on. She was so genuine, like she knew all of what she was saying was the all encompassing truth.

Echoes of different combinations of "there's nothing wrong with you" and "completely normal" and "your own pace" flitted around inside him until they melted into a feeling he hadn't felt in so long: hope. It was horrifying... yet it gave him a kind of relief he didn't know he could feel.

The super soldier then realized that (Y/N) was looking right back at him dead on. He was about to stumble through some sort of apology for staring or thankful expression for her kindness, but he noticed that she didn't look like she was necessarily waiting for a response. She was just... looking.

Bucky tried to say something, anything. But he just couldn't seem to pull his eyes away. In this brief moment, he felt crystallized. His conscious, logical brain was somewhere far away, hypnotized by the stillness of the moment. It was only a few seconds, but somehow felt longer. These very few seconds of mental sedation were soon over.

Speak, idiot.

He snapped back to reality, suddenly finding himself inspecting at the grass below him.

"Thank you."

"Of course," she replied without missing a beat. Her tone of voice was water soft.

"(Y/N), do you... do you know what happened with me earlier?" he asked, cautiously. "Like, what was wrong- I mean, not wrong but why I-"

He sighed frustratingly, cutting himself off.

Her face was patient, but she was waiting for a description of something he didn't know how to describe.

"I know I said we were done for today, but I-I don't know how to explain it, and I want to know what it is," he confessed.

"I think you had an anxiety attack."

Anxiety? That couldn't be right. There's no way that could've been from being nervous.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"Anxiety. It seemed as though you were experiencing high amounts of anxiety. Most people get nervous at times, but those tiny amounts are normal. But, some other people are a lot more nervous a lot more of the time. Sometimes, these peoples' anxiety can get particularly high and be so overwhelming that their body kinda takes over, and they can experience really uncomfortable physical symptoms, and this can turn into an anxiety attack."

"I thought I was... sick or... or drugged or something."

"Well, I'm almost certain you weren't drugged, and I'm pretty sure you can't even get sick."

"Oh."

He honestly didn't know what to say.

"Bucky," she looked straight at him again and he almost felt himself slipping. "In terms of psychology, a lot has progressed since the 40's. I'm not sure how anxiety was presented or studied then, but there's really a lot more to it than people think. And honestly, given your situation, it would be strange if you didn't develop an anxiety disorder."

Anxiety disorder?

"Anxiety disorder? I have that?"

"Well, again, I think we have to do more work to confirm, but that's what it seems like."

"I thought you said I had PTSD?"

"I do. I think you have both."

Christ.

"Wow, I'm a whole sack 'a problems, aren't I?" he chuckled, giving up on trying to internally oppose his short comings.

"You're not a problem, Buck. You had to deal with a whole sack of problems, though," she smiled.

The nickname didn't miss his radar. Was that the first time she's called him that? He ignored how he liked it.

"That's for damn sure."

They conversed for a while after that, and didn't seem to notice how late it was until the sun began to set. The ending day's reflection on the water created an aura so relaxing Bucky didn't want to move. But alas, reality calls.

(Y/N) stood up. "If you're not back soon, they'll start looking for you. We should probably get going."

Bucky stood up, too, following her request.

"I'll walk you back to your quarters," she offered.

And so they went, conversation continuing naturally, as if they were old friends. Bucky found it strange that someone he knew so little was so easy to talk to. He brushed it off as some inherent therapist quality.

He still found her hard to read although he knew her more with each passing word between them.

Despite all of this, the walk back, with cool air, a melting sky, and languid steps, was the best thing he had experienced since coming out of cryo. His memory may be spotty, and his mind may be rough, but this, this he was sure of.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Part 2

I’m so glad that you guys are enjoying this new series! Work was pretty hectic for me today, but here is the next part, albeit a little late.

For the last vote, A won out, meaning that Hero is going to attempt to a more direct approach to aiding Villain. Though, the things they see in this part may just change their mind.

CW//Shapeshifting, cartoon violence, insults, being called ‘worthless,’ interventions, residential medical facilities, flashbacks

The blow came out of nowhere.

It was a rhetorical statement as much as it was a completely literal one. That didn’t matter in the moment, however-- the fist had very much struck Hero in the back of their head, causing them to stumble forwards.

Before them, their assailant rematerialized from thin air, gasping with a smirk upon their face. They blew on their knuckles, as if blowing smoke from a firearm’s muzzle. Stupid, arrogant kid.

“Come on!” The villain taunted. “I thought you were supposed to be good.”

Hero didn’t bother to transform before they leapt; they did that mid-air, curled fingers turning into canine claws before them. Said claws were aimed truly at the villain a few feet ahead, directed at their panicked expression.

Suddenly, Hero felt to be on the edge of a roof. Facing a completely different foe.

Throwing themself to the ground was not a conscious choice, but it was the action that they took.

The hero in lupine shape skidded to the ground, head spinning as it struck concrete. By the time they were back to all four paws, their opponent was long gone. In their wake, the door slammed closed.

Why did they...

No. This villain looked nothing like them. They shook their head, turning back to human form in order to begin tearing out the door.

The laboratory was a nightmare to navigate. White walls stretched far further than they had any right to, all looking terribly identical. Had it been any other situation, Hero would have found themself hopelessly lost.

But they could make a pretty good guess where their target had run off to. It was probably the hall where the shouting and banging was emanating from.

Hero skidded about a corner, forgetting momentarily that in human form they lacked dewclaws, causing them nearly to fall. They did not, however, turning the corner and stopping before they collided with the active battle.

Leader swore loudly as they failed to land a blow on the villain. However, their attacker missed in turn, putting themself in such a position that allowed Teammate to grab them from behind.

The villain yelled and struggled. Almost as if they’d just fallen from the roof of a building, and were now screaming, fighting back against those trying to hold them down.

Hero was on a collision course with Teammate before they so much as realized it. Halfway through the movement, their body turned from human to that of a far more formidable wildcat, easily sending their friend sprawling on the white tile. In turn, the villain their friend had been restraining freed themself.

Leader was too stunned, in the moment, to react. By the time everyone in the corridor had returned to their senses, their opponent had long since dematerialized and left.

Leaving only the three Heroes in the hallway. Two heads turned to stare at the third.

Hero’s feline ears turned back a moment, an expression that was translated to flushing as they returned to human form. Teammate pried themself off the floor, brushing dust from their uniform.

“Sorry.” Hero dipped their head.

“Why the hell did you do that?” Leader snapped. In comparison to the quiet building, it sounded like a gong being struck. “We almost had them!”

“I was, uh, trying to get them on the ground.”

“I had it handled.” Teammate commented in a far calmer tone of voice. “I don’t think we have any chance of catching up to them now, though.”

“No. Probably not. No thanks to someone.” Leader shook their head. “We were so damn close.”

“And they got the medicines too.” Teammate added.

“They what?”

“The medicines?”

“I thought those were secured.”

“Well... They were. And then they took them.”

“Oh my god, you two are stupid.” Leader hissed through gritted teeth. “Hero, what happened in the other room? I thought you had them pinned.”

“They got away.”

“You two are so stupid. I asked for a team, and this is what I get... Worthless. Well, it’s a lost cause, now. Let’s get back to the car.”

Hero and Teammate hung their heads, but weren’t about to argue. They began their walk out of the building in silence, a silence that continued until they had traversed a few flights of stairs. That was when Leader spoke up, once again, some of the most acute venom seeming to have left their voice.

“Hero... You seem nervous.”

“I’m not.”

“I know you can fight better than what I just saw. I want to know why.”

“I guess... I guess I’m not sure.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

No. Of course they weren’t sure, because it was a lie. The night prior, after their diner meeting with Hacker, they had not succeeded in getting a single second of sleep. Now, they felt like their legs-- however many they happened to have at the moment-- were made of jello.

“I’m sure. I just need some sleep.”

“And then you’ll be back to normal?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I need my best fighter back in shape. Villains don’t catch themselves, y’know.”

Except, sometimes, they did. Sometimes they tripped, right off the edge of a roof. And, sometimes, their fall haunted the dreams of the hero who had caused it.

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The dorms at HQ were a lot of things. They were cramped, and cluttered, and the thermostats never seemed to work quite right. All of that, though, was normal. A life spent living in apartments and dorms had gotten Hero plenty used to making themself comfortable in small quarters.

The bad thing about them was that, living in an enclosed space with the same people for years on end, it became just about impossible to pretend they weren’t home when someone knocked on the door.

That didn’t mean they didn’t try every single time, however.

Hero nestled themself further under the blankets that covered them, burying their head beneath their pillow in an attempt to block out the incessant knocking. Eventually, they gave up, shouting back:

“Hero isn’t home. You can’t come in.”

“If Hero isn’t home how are they talking to me?” Came Teammate’s joking cadence.

“This is a recording. Please come back later or not at all.”

“Well, can I at least come in and talk to a recording of Hero?”

“Fine.”

Hero rolled over, staring at the ceiling a moment before getting off the bed to let their friend inside. They were smiling, which was automatically a red flag.

Teammate found themself a seat on the couch shoved into the corner of the dorm, while Hero returned to their bed, collapsing dramatically onto their back.

“I have a feeling that you know why I’m here.” Teammate started, in that weird voice they used when trying to calm down a civilian.

“What are you, my therapist?”

“No. But I am worried about you.”

“I told Leader already. I’m just tired.”

“Is that why you tackled me out of nowhere?”

“I was trying to tackle the villain.”

“While I was already holding them?”

“Can you just drop it? I’m fine. I just need to go to bed early tonight.”

“it’s not just today, though. You’ve been acting weird all week. Maybe longer.”

“Have not.”

“When you froze up on that roof?”

“Nope.”

“When you pretended to be sick so you didn’t have to go to that ceremony at the university?”

“Had a cold.”

“When you just let a villain punch you in the face?”

“I- Why do you have to be right all the time?”

“Not all the time. But I think everyone has been getting a bit worried about you. You haven’t been acting yourself... We just want to help. Are you sick? You can be honest with me.”

“It’s not that. I’m fine. Physically, I’m fine. So I should be fine and dandy.”

Teammate nodded.

“The anniversary.”

“You remembered?”

“They had it on the news. Though I have a feeling you didn’t need any help remembering.”

“No.”

“How many days has it been, now?”

“374.”

“Nine days since the anniversary of Villain’s capture. Nine days you’ve been acting weird. That’s an awfully interesting coincidence.”

“I’m worried about them.” Hero dipped their head. “I can’t- I can hardly sleep.”

“You’re worried about Villain?”

“Well- I’m not worried about them. Of course I’m not worried about them, they’re a villain. But...”

“But?”

“It’s been over a year, and there’s been no news. You’d think they’d be like, fighting back, or trying to escape, or something.”

“Is that what you’re worried about, them escaping?”

How were they supposed to escape when they couldn’t even open their eyes?

“I guess so, yeah. It doesn’t seem right for them to be so docile like that.”

“The rehabbers are very good.”

“I know they are. But Villain is... they’re the worst! When they were captured the city threw a parade! They’ve hurt so many people. And now they’re just gone.”

“You think they’re planning something?”

“I guess.”

“Well... why don’t you go see them?”

“What?”

“It’s not like they’re being held on some secret Alcatraz. The rehab place is just across the city. They’ll probably let you in if you just go up and ask.”

“You really think that would work?”

“Why not? Villain is probably just going to like, spit on you or something, but if it’s worrying you this much, just go see them. You’ll see that they’re under control, and then maybe you won’t tackle me anymore?”

“I’ll try not to.” Hero chuckled. “You think that’s gonna work?”

“It’s worth a try. Besides, maybe Villain will be better, this time. Those rehabbers are crazy good at their jobs. I don’t think a single villain has come out of their still being, like, evil. They have a one hundred percent success rate, as far as I know.”

Almost one hundred percent.

Almost.

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This was stupid.

It was the only thing Hero could think about, sitting there in the parking lot, staring at the building with its cute little picket fence and brightly-colored exterior.

It was a stupid plan. They had spent so long the night prior, overthinking the few brief words they had exchanged with Hacker.

Villain needed to leave that place.

At the very least, they needed to... Hero didn’t know what they needed. They needed to be contained, certainly. They were dangerous. Too dangerous to be free. But they at least deserved to be awake.

Did they?

Yes. Of course they did. If asked, Hero was unsure if they could truly defend their position on the matter, but they knew that Villain did not deserve to be in the state that they currently suffered. It wasn’t right.

That wit. That tongue. Those sharp, intelligent eyes.

Villain did not deserve to be drowned in sedatives until they could no longer remember their own name.

It did not matter where they went. Where they were contained. So long as they were allowed to be awake. Allowed to live.

They at least deserved that much.

But... Hero had no power over such things. Every possible plan they had concocted fell apart as soon as they tried to think it through. Certainly, despite its cutesy exterior, this building was heavily guarded. Even if they did manage to get Villain out of the facility, where would they take them? Hell, as soon as they were out, Villain would probably tear their throat out!

They should have just gone right back to the HQ and forgotten the whole affair. But that image of their foe, dead to the world, would not leave their mind. It was burned into their eyelids. They saw it when they blinked.

Hero had no plan. But, they had a car, and a near complete lack of self restraint.

They had no intention of going in guns blazing. They’d be taken out in seconds, and would probably land in the very same facility, being “rehabilitated.” But, if they could at least get in, then that was a significant hurdle leapt.

And they had the perfect plan to achieve that step.

Hero’s hadn’t even realized just how white their knuckles had grown from having gripped the steering wheel with such force for so long. Their fingers ached as they removed them from the wheel, exiting the vehicle.

For a moment, they stood there.

The only sort of barrier between the facility and the outside world was a white picket fence, only a few feet in height. A moderately athletic cat could jump it. A villain would have no difficulty.

Beyond the fence, the building looked almost like any medical clinic. Decorative windchimes hung from the awning overtop the entrance, which was little more than a pair of glass doors. There wasn’t even a visible lock. From either side of the main part of the structure, wings of patient rooms stretched, their windows decorated with childish crafts made of construction paper and glue.

It looked more like a civilian hospital than something holding the city’s most dangerous criminals.

Hero hated just how nervous they felt, opening the gate to the picket fence and approaching the front door. Their suspicions were correct-- the doors were unlocked, and a bell above them even chimed as they were opened.

The lobby beyond was small, consisting of only a single desk, at which a lab-coated person typed on a computer. As Hero entered, they looked up. Their eyes widened.

“Hero?” Their mouth was almost agape. “I didn’t think we were expecting a visit from you.”

“Sorry about that. It’s kind of a more... spur of the moment thing.”

“Oh? How can we help you?”

Hero approached the desk, trying to hide the way their finger refused to stop twitching.

“I...” Their shoulders slumped. They weren’t an actor by any means, but they had gotten plenty of practice in lying to Leader about how long they had spent in the gym. “A bit over a week ago, it was the one year anniversary of Villain’s capture.”

“Was it? Time flies, I suppose.”

“I was wondering if I could see them.”

“Oh? Any particular reason?”

“I’m just a little... suspicious. I want to make sure they’re doing alright. That they aren’t planning anything.”

“Hm... Well, I can understand your concern, but I assure you that Villain has been a model patient.”

“Even so... Can I see them?”

Hero could see the tips of the Labcoat’s ears growing red.

“Let me talk to the head doctor.” They stood from their desk, notably turning off their computer as they did so. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

“No need.”

At the back of the small lobby area, a door opened, revealing a man wearing a pair of blue scrubs and a warm smile.

“I’m right here, Labcoat. Is there something you need- Oh my goodness, Hero in the flesh! For what do we get the honor?”

“Um-”

“They want to see Villain.”

That dropped Head Doctor’s smile pretty quick.

“I see.” They nodded, nearing the desk. “Wanting to visit the old nemesis, hm?”

“I just want to make sure they’re doing alright. That they aren’t... planning anything.”

Head Doctor frowned a moment, before sighing.

“I’m sorry, Hero. And to think you came all this way. But I’m going to have to say no. You see, Villain has had a hard day, today. Usually they’re very well-behaved, but they had some trouble today. I don’t think it would be the best idea to rile them up like that, right now. I’m terribly sorry.”

Hero put their hand in their pocket, ensuring that the doctors could not see as they balled it into a fist.

“I understand.” They nodded, trying their best not to grit their teeth. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s terribly unfortunate. If you had just come another day... But I don’t want to waste your time entirely. And it’s such a terribly long drive across town.” Again, Head Doctor’s countenance was brightened by a grin. “You won’t be able to see your nemesis today, but how about a tour? You can speak to our other patients, if you would like. They’re eating lunch right about now.”

A tour.

Hero could work with that.

“That would be great. Are you sure it’s... Are you sure it’s safe? Not that I’m worried or anything, but.”

“Of course it’s safe. It’s always safe, here. Come on. I’m sure everyone will be delighted to see you.”

Yeah. Delighted.

Head Doctor’s blue scrubs rippled under the bright florescents as they turned, heading back towards that door at the rear of the room. It felt almost too good to be true, but Hero wasted no time in following suit.

This door, unlike the others, was metal, and required a key to be passed through. It opened with a rather heavy creak, and clicked solidly as it closed behind Hero. They almost jumped.

If they were being quite honest, they had never really thought about where villains went after they were locked up. Like a hunting dog, they had little care where their prey ended up, only that they retrieved it. If they had to guess where their fallen foes ended up, they would have likely described a well-secured concrete building, complete with snipers and barbed wire.

Not a cute little hospital ward.

The door from the lobby opened into a wide-open, carpeted space, decorated by several sofas and a television, alongside a few well-stocked bookshelves. Beyond it, three hallways sprouted-- one to the front, and one to the left or the right.

Every door was wood.

“We call this the commons.” Head Doctor explained with a smile. “A sort of... hang out space. And those two halls lead to the patients rooms. Not much to see there.”

In an awfully hurried manner, they lead Hero forwards, into the hallway that led straight out from the commons. It was wide, with several doors on either side. Yet, not a single window.

“This is where me and my colleagues work, most of the the time. It’s mostly offices for our therapists. And that one, there, is my office.”

During the whole explanation, they did not stop walking forwards. They only did so at the end of the hallway, where a door was embedded.

“Um... This is the dining hall, just past this door. Everyone is eating lunch right now. I assure you that it’s perfectly safe, but I understand if you don’t want to see some of your, um, old foes.”

“It’s fine.” Hero did their best to smile. “Is Villain in there?”

“No. They decided to eat lunch in their room today.” Head Doctor chimed, opening the door. From behind it, there was no sound.

Nothing that Head Doctor said had been untrue. The dining hall was clean, immaculately so, scattered with plastic tables and chairs, both painted to look as though they were made of wood. Each table only sat two people, and most of them were full.

Full of the city’s worst. Villains who had hurt people, who had killed dozens.

They seemed happy enough, at least based upon the expressions on their faces. It was just about as typical as a cafeteria during mealtime could get.

Except for the quiet.

Even with the two dozen or so people sitting and eating, not a single one spoke. Each and every one of them seemed intent on sitting and eating the food before them. 

Hero scanned the room a moment, gaze eventually setting upon one of the few tables with an empty chair. They didn't recognize the villain very well. They may have had ice-related powers, or something of the like. But they had fought, at least once. And Hero didn’t remember them being that horrible.

It was something. It was the best they were going to get.

“Head Doctor?” They spoke up.

“Yes, Hero?”

“There’s someone else here, I want to speak to.” They gestured towards the villain, sitting alone. Staring at their food. Engrossed. “We used to, um, we fought a lot. I want to talk to them.”

“Oh? Well, that’s just fine by me. It’s always good to reconcile. They’re a model patient. Do you want anything to eat?”

“No thank you.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back at the end of lunch, if that sounds alright?”

“That’s just fine.”

“Splendid! I will see you then, Hero.”

Hero ducked their head in agreement, waiting until the doctor had left before approaching the table. They moved slowly, taking a seat across from the villain that they couldn’t so much as remember the name of. Even as they sat down, the person across from the table did not so much as bat an eye.

They only did so when Hero spoke up:

“Um, hello.”

It was oddly slow, the way in which the villain raised their head. They placed down their fork gingerly, smiling.

“Hello, Hero. I haven’t seen you in quite some time.”

“Uh, you neither. How are you doing?”

“I am doing just fine, Hero.” It was terribly stilted, the way in which they spoke, as though they had to carefully consider each word. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Did you come here to visit me?”

“Um, not you specifically. I came here to visit Villain.”

The edges of the villain’s smile flickered a moment, as if continuing to keep them upturned was quickly becoming a major effort.

“You should leave this place, Hero.” Even as they said it, their smile never fell. “It’s not worth it.”

Their hand gripped around the handle of their fork.

“Do you know where they are? Where Villain is?”

“Yes I do, Hero. I did not think you would care. It is you who put them here.”

“I didn’t do anything. Are they-” They looked around, expecting to see at least one guard, one nurse, one orderly. But the dining hall was barren of every person except villains. “Are they okay?”

“If I tell you that, I will end up like them. You do not want to be in this place, Hero. You should leave this place.”

“Um-” A single drop of sweat dripped down the side of their face, tracing their jawline. “I really suddenly need to use the bathroom.”

“It’s right there.” The villain raised a hand, pointing to a door labelled ‘16 - Restrooms′. “The bathroom is in room 43.”

Hero didn’t have to be given the hint twice.

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Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes! 

A.) Risk it all and attempt a prison break - Should Hero attempt to free the others, as well?

B.) Don’t take the risk. Leave and reconsider - Should Hero tell anyone what they saw?

[magnoliabloomfield]

Gally Imagine part 9

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight

Treating Gally’s wound was a good way to get time to ourselves. He’d come in before dinner when everyone else was finishing their work and so focused on food they wouldn’t notice we were missing.

He’d sit down and I would stand between his knees as I redressed his bandages, his hands a pleasant weight on my hips. While I peeled the backs off the bandaids he’d brush my hair back, stroke my face, and kiss my cheek. It was almost overwhelming how he looked at me and the abundant gentle affection he showered on me. He revered me, treated me like I was something glorious and I wasn't sure I deserved it. When I finished bandaging him I’d give his bare shoulder a few healing kisses.

There was plenty of hugs and kisses, but it wasn’t all just physical affection, we talked too. He was very logical so I’d have to work at it a little to get emotions out of him verbally. And I tried to express all my soft flowery feelings in more straightforward ways for him. But it was all worth the effort, we'd each found a best friend in the other.

It was easy for us to get that time together even though we wished we had more time in the day where we could be close and affectionate. But nothing lasts forever. Eventually Gally’s cut healed enough he didn’t need to go into the infirmary anymore. I’d done too good a job caring for him.

I lost my favorite part of my daily routine and found myself going through withdrawals the very next day before it even got to the time he’d usually come in. It was another hot day and the glade was buzzing with bad moods and a bit of heat stroked madness.

I shared a table with Gally at lunch but we couldn’t make plans to meet up where we could be overheard. We tried not to stare at each other too much and fought to keep grins off our faces. The desperation to touch was suffocating and we found some release in touching boots under the table. We’d sit toe to toe or pressed side to side where no one would notice unless they were really looking.

“Gally, I think that near death experience actually did you some good,” Newt said one day out of the blue. “Your grumpiness has dialed down about a notch and a half.”

I tried not to let Newt see me smirk, casually scratching my nose till I got my face under control again.

“Maybe it had more to do with your nurse,” Newt fixed me with his intense brown eyes and I felt caught for a second.

“I’d like to think I could take credit for that,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. “I could be the first therapist in the glade, fixing all you traumatized boys. How long do you think it would take me to get through everyone?”

Gally nearly choked and gave me a sharp look that almost made me burst out laughing, obviously he’d thought I’d meant something lewd, doing what I did with him with each of the boys in the glade. Fat freaking chance.

I didn’t think I’d thrown Newt completely off our scent but I had muddied the waters for the time being. The lunch crowd was breaking up and getting back to work, Gally and I lingered just long enough to have a few words.

“If you feel like you’re getting heat stroke today you should come to the infirmary,” I advised him. “We have buckets of water for cooling off and plenty to drink as well.” I tried to make it sound as professional as I could, something I’d say to anyone.

He nodded then gave a cautious glance around. “I’ll find a way, sometime,” he said quietly as he passed me, gently brushing my shoulder with his.

Gally’s word was as good as gold. I wasn’t worried, just bored. I made it back to the infirmary, realizing I hadn’t seen much of Clint and Jeff that day. Maybe I could poke around and see if there was any kind of secret way in and out of it where I could sneak out or sneak Gally in. That’s when I stumbled upon the most shocking thing I’d ever seen first hand in the glade.

“Oh! God, I’m sorry!” I said as I turned away and scurried back to the main room of the infirmary. I tried to process what I’d just seen as Clint and Jeff caught up with me, slipping shirts back on and looking nervous.

“Jackie!” Jeff called me their special name they’d given me for being a girl med-‘Jack’. “Jackie, please don’t tell anyone.” He pleaded with me.

“I won’t, I promise,” I shook my head.

“Good,” Clint nodded. “Because if you do we’ll tell about you and Gally.”

I reeled back in surprise and Jeff also gave Clint a sharp look.

“You’re going to blackmail me?” I asked, so shaken up I did t try to deny it. “I really mean it, I won’t tell. It doesn’t have to be hostile.”

“We’re not blackmailing her,” Jeff said to Clint pointedly before sighing and turning back to me. “Thanks Jackie, we know we can trust you, you’re cool.”

I relaxed a little. “What do you know about me and Gally anyway?” I asked, suspicious.

Clint looked away, betraying that it wasn’t all that much. “Just that you both looked a little too happy after he’d come in. And the fact he came in everyday without fail, usually he tries to get out of letting us help him.”

“So you really do have a thing going with him?” Jeff seemed happy at least.

I couldn’t help but smile shyly. “Yeah.” It felt good to tell someone.

“Ha!” Jeff laughed in Clint’s face. “I told you! You owe me desert for a week.”

Clint looked at him with a fire in his eyes that either could have led to a brawl or another passionate make out session. I wasn’t prepared to handle either.

“He bet you’d get together with Newt,” Jeff said, looking back at me. “But I knew- I knew Gally had it worse for you.”

Geez. I really needed to do something to assure Gally I was just as adoring of him as he was of me.

“Hey, blackmailing aside, maybe we could help each other out instead,” I lit upon the idea.

—————————

Clint and Jeff helped Gally and I orchestrate a rendezvous in return for the same favor. Gally of course didn’t know what I knew about them and it wasn’t my place to tell him. I convinced him he’d just have to trust me. All we had to do was provide believable alibi's for each other.

That’s how we found ourselves in a very secluded and quiet part of the deadheads, a blanket spread out on a grassy patch to make it more comfortable. We had sat for a while and chatted but soon dissolved until we were lying down. Gally was on his back and I was propped up beside him. I decided to try my idea of revering him in return.

I stroked his face like he would do mine, tracing every lovely feature of it until he closed his eyes with a blissful expression. I pressed a kiss to his temple and his cheek, seeing his smile grow. I raked my fingers through his short, thick hair.

“You’re so good at what you do, Gally,” I told him softly, his eyes opening a little to pay attention to me. “You work so hard to keep everything running smoothly. You take on so much responsibility, big responsibility, and I don’t think anyone shows you enough appreciation for doing the hard stuff. I just hope that when we’re together you’re not worrying about me, about us. I’d like to give you some peace where you can take that weight off your shoulders and relax.” I’d continued stroking his hair for a bit, but then gently laid my hand on his chest and moved it up to his shoulder and further up until I was cradling his face by the time I was done talking.

At first he seemed shell shocked by all that, like no one had ever said a nice thing to him in his life. His eyes roamed my face and slowly a sweet smile grew on his own. Still not one for speaking his feelings, he shared them in a way he was very talented in. He reached up, his fingers curving behind my neck as his thumb brushed my cheek, he gently guided my lips to his.

He wasn’t a frenzied kisser, going so fast you couldn’t feel much. His passion wasn’t a house fire, but a controlled burn, and it felt like he savored each moment and sensation as much as I did. He kissed me in ways that let me feel what he was feeling and this one told me that when he was with me, everything else just melted away till we were the only two people in a big, wide, open world. We were the only things that mattered.

@poulterholland @anniemylennox @crazysheeplyca

[basicbatboys]

Drain-O

Part 2

WARNINGS: Abusive ex, descriptions of abuse, violence, death, angst, language

A lil vent writing :) This is the first thing I’ve written in a very long time and a topic close to my heart! The title is irrelevant to the fic, it was just my own personal Drain-O 

1914 words 

Jason finds out you’ve been talking to an abusive ex who you’re convinced has changed. You go out with the ex and chaos ensues. There’s nice fluff at the end with Jason consoling and talking with you. This is not a light fic.

 If you or someone you know is struggling with domestic abuse, it is not a situation that you can handle alone. Please reach out to someone and find help. You deserve better. 

800.799.SAFE (7233)                                                 

https://www.thehotline.org/

I stood in front of my full length mirror, smoothing down the slight creases in the dress I’d grabbed out of the closet. I smiled softly at my reflection. It had been a while since I’d felt this nice- since I’d had something to feel nice for. I gave myself a final once over, and when I was content I turned to head toward my desk to finish the final touches on my hair and makeup. When I turned, I was a little too unsurprised to see a dark figure crouched on my windowsill. I sighed and walked toward it, undoing the latch. 

“Jaybird, you find the worst times to pester me.”

The figure slid through my now opened window with a grace that someone of his size shouldn’t be able to muster. His feet hit the ground with a soft pat and he shut my shade to give himself the privacy required to pull off his helmet. He flashed me a cocky smile and ran a hand through his hair. “It’d hardly be pestering if it was a good time for me to show up.” He pointed out, walking toward my bed and taking a comfortable seat. 

I rolled my eyes and retreated to my desk, flipping my hair into a simple messy bun. “I’m leaving soon. And you know, if you keep showing up here, someone is bound to think you live here and break in.” I gave him a pointed look and he responded with a nonchalant eye roll. 

“Fun surprise when they stumble on a woman getting ready for a-” he looked me up and down, “date?” He tried. 

I nodded. “Yeah, a date.” 

He frowned softly and stood up, walking to stand behind me and look at me through the desk mirror. “With whom?” He demanded lowly. 

It was my turn to roll my eyes. I turned around in my chair and folded my hands together, begging. “Please, papa! Please, I love him! You can’t forbid me from going out any longer!” I chided, my voice high and my lashes batting. 

He sighed. “You know why I’m asking, batbreath.” 

I sighed too and turned back around, my attention returning to my makeup. Jason had a reason to be hesitant about my going out. He’d recently discovered that my ex had been talking to me again, and foolishly, I’d let him talk me into taking me out tonight. Of course, Jay didn’t know that last bit. If he did, there’s no way he’d let me leave. My ex had been… Impolite, to say the least. Before I had been introduced to the vigilante family he’d been really good at knocking me around. Most days I’d spend my time covering black eyes and downing countless painkillers. Now was the hard question. Why was I going out with him again? 

Well, it had been a year now. I knew how to handle myself, if he thought to try something. And really, I missed him. The memories  we had together were clouded by pain, but he was the first man to love me. He held me at night. He kissed me under the stars and in the rain, he bought me flowers and bracelets, and he held my hand on the subway. I missed the way I felt carefree when he laughed. I missed the happy times. I thought, hoped, that things could change. That things would be different now. 

“Hey.” Jason nearly yelled, snapping me out of my train of thought. I nearly pierced my nose with my mascara wand. 

“What?” I snapped, turning to look up at him again. 

“I don’t want the trademark attitude right now. You don’t get to have an attitude. Who are you going out with, this is serious.”  

I sighed, defeated. “His name is Zack.” I said, sliding him a fake name. “He’s a nice guy, really!” I lied, forcing a smile. “A really good guy.” 

Jason didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded and backed away from my chair. “Okay.” He said, grabbing his helmet. “I won’t pester you anymore.” He said, spitting my earlier words back at me. He headed toward the window, slid on his helmet, and opened the shade. “You look nice, batbrain.” He finished before exiting through my window and into the darkness again. 

“Thank you.” I said to no one. 

---

“Dylan, don’t fucking touch me.” I growled, wiping the blood from my nose. I was backed into an alleyway. My blood felt like it was 90% alcohol at this point. He’d been feeding me drinks all night for this planned outburst. I’d never felt stupider in my life. 

“God, how many times have I heard you say that? At least a thousand, at this point.” Dylan laughed, stalking toward me. I realized now that I never watched him drink anything but water. Stupid. 

“You deserve this, sweetheart, after the hell you’ve put me through. It’s been impossible to bang anyone with all the bullshit you’ve spread about me.” 

I could hardly hear him. There was so much fog in my head and the pain from the blows he’d already delivered were clouding any sort of brain function I could have been riding on. Any of the training Batman had given me was out the window. 

“It wasn’t bullshit.” I slurred. I wiped my still-dripping nose again. “See?” I said, holding up blood stained fingers. “Not bullshit. You’re a psychopath.” 

He laughed again. “Oh, the attitude. How I missed the fucking attitude!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn’t distinguish. Then, I saw the glint under the little light that the alley offered. A knife.

I backed up until I hit the wall. Was this really how I was going to die? Stupid. Stupid, stupid. 

“I’m going to really enjoy silencing that fucking attitude.” 

He walked toward me, slowly. I felt like I was suffocating. There was no way out. No one here to save me. I looked right at him. 

He didn’t seem off put. He didn’t stop, he just maintained his pace. He was about a foot away from me when a shot rang out. I watched his body soundlessly fall to the ground. My ears were ringing. I stared, open mouthed, at the pool of blood that slid out from under his head, black and thick. 

I looked up. A red helmet stared blankly at me from the rooftop. It was only then, really, that I realized I was crying. My knees gave out and I fell to the ground, my palm landing in the puddle of blood. 

Jason landed on the ground beside me moments later. He knelt down and took my hand, helping me back to my feet. “Let’s get you home.” He muttered, his tone unreadable. 

----

The sun beaming through my window woke me up gradually. My head was killing me and my pillow had small dots of blood decorating it from the times when my nose had continued bleeding throughout the night. I sat up slowly and the memories of the night before came flooding back. Jason.

I reached for my phone, but I couldn’t find it. I stood up and walked cautiously out to the living room. He was here and had presumably spent the night. He was already awake and sitting on my couch. 

“Hi.” I breathed, unable to say more than that. 

He looked up at me with dark, angry eyes. Then, surprisingly, his gaze softened. “Come sit down?” He asked. 

I nodded and sat across from him. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. I knew what he wanted from me was an explanation. 

“I-” I started, then stopped. I was already crying again. Embarrassment was the best word for what I was feeling. “I lied to you. I don’t need to tell you that, you already know. I lied to you because… Because I knew you wouldn’t let me go. And I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have trusted him again, Jay. I know. But… I…” I couldn’t fully articulate the way I felt. I knew that I needed to try but between the throbbing pain and the hangover burning a hole in my brain it was damn near impossible to get anything coherent out. 

Jason didn’t say anything. He wanted to let me finish, I assumed. 

“He was… I loved him. I thought that maybe he had changed because he apologized and explained things. He said he was seeing a therapist now. That he had figured out ways to help himself cope with his problems, and Jay, I mean, he was my first real love. He made me feel so carefree and so happy. The times that he hit me were… I mean they were terrible but he always worked so hard to make up for it. I thought that there was good in him. I thought that maybe we would go back to just being happy together. And with everything I learned in training I knew I could protect myself. And then he got me drinking and I thought he was drinking too but he just kept ordering me drinks and you know how I am with alcohol, I didn’t think twice about what he might have been doing to me. Jason, please-”

He held up a hand. “Don’t.” He said softly. He put his face in his hands and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I… I’m disappointed.” He said finally. The words struck me deep in a core part of myself. “I thought you knew better.” 

I didn’t know what to say. I looked down and watched the tears from my eyes turn into dark spots on my shorts. 

“But-” he continued, “That’s how you’ve always been. Always wanting to see the best in people. Always wanting to fix what just can’t be fixed. You were clearly manipulated. He clearly fucked you so badly in the head that you really thought he loved you.” He looked up at me. 

I can’t imagine what he must see. Some dumb child sitting in front of him, crying like everything wasn’t her fault. I would have been safe if I hadn’t just walked right into his trap. I could have saved everyone the headache. I must have looked so pathetic. 

“You don’t need a lecture. You need help. You need-” I let out the sob that I’d been holding in and he sighed. “You need a friend.” He stood up and walked toward me, pulling me into his arms. “I am so sorry that you have never known real love. I’m sorry that that is what love is to you because it is so much more beautiful than kissing bruises.” 

I looked up at him and he carefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and wiped away a tear that had tracked a glistening trail down my cheek. “It is so much gentler.” He whispered. I couldn’t hold his gaze so I looked back down. 

He didn’t force me to look at him. He didn’t say anything after that. I wanted to believe him, but the love he described sounded too fairytale-like to be real. Love is damaged. I wanted to argue but I knew there was no point. He saw me as damaged, and hell, maybe I was. All I could offer him was the same hollow “Thank you.” that I spoke to no one the night before.

[lampmeeting]

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

--

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

--

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

--

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

[wooyunhwa]

kingdom of welcome addiction | two

view pinned post for masterlist for links to the rest of the parts!

Genre: smut 

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: blood drinking, choking (like some serious choking you’ve been warned), crying kink, corruption kink, praise kink? idk, mentions of alcohol, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

It had been a few weeks since you’d last summoned San. The last time you’d seen him, he’d gone kind of crazy after tasting your blood. You couldn’t forget the darkness in his voice, his all-black eyes shining demonically as he lost it. He had left without even giving himself a chance to explain himself, he just disappeared to, well… wherever it was that demons went, you supposed.

Every so often, your hand would find its way up to check the scar where he’d punctured your neck. Honestly, you just wanted to make sure you hadn’t dreamt it all. As the days went on, you really couldn’t be sure. Eventually the scar dwindled to a faint red mark, and then to nothing at all. 

The sticky note was still pinned to the wall above your desk, taunting you every time you saw it. Each time you’d think today was the day you’d call him back, and yet, you hadn’t been able to do it.  

Until you were drunk, that is. 

You had a particularly rough day of classes. Your professor had called you out in front of the whole class for a mistake you made on an assignment, and it ripped you apart. When you got home, you had poured out a few pathetic drinks to drown the pain of the day, wanting nothing more than to curl up in your bed and disappear. But you forgot one vital thing. When you drank alone, you got sad. Like, really sad. The tears seemed to flow endlessly, and there was a point at which you even forgot why you were crying—or drinking—in the first place. 

There was a part of you that needed in that moment to not be alone, even for just a second. Embarrassed to call any of your friends over, you turned to the only companion who couldn’t turn you down.

Your demon boy.

You ripped the post-it off the wall, finally ready to use it, drunkenly singing out the Latin a few times until it was comprehensible enough to work.  

He was perched on your desk when he appeared. You stumbled back drunkenly, startled by his sudden appearance despite knowing you were summoning him. You just forgot how jarring it was. 

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” San grumbled. You weren’t sure if he was responding to your sudden summoning, or the fact that you were leaking tears all over the place pathetically, but you couldn’t even manage to choke out a response through your blubbering. 

“This is way out of my pay grade.” He hopped off the desk, sauntering slowly in your direction. “Have you been drinking, hmm? I can smell that cheap liquor from a mile away. It’s fogging up your pretty little scent.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes pitifully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have summoned you. You can leave.”

“I did miss your cute little human face, I suppose,” he said softly. He was standing close now, towering over you. You pulled your gaze up to meet his eyes, and he gave a gentle pet to your head. In any other situation, it would be sweet, but the look in his eyes was chilling. He looked at you like prey, a piece of meat—and yet his words dripped off his tongue like the sweetest honey. “Don’t cry, okay?” 

His thumb drew across your cheek, passing faintly over your lips, collecting tears. He brought his hand up to his tongue, licking it clean of the saltwater, not breaking eye-contact for even a second. “Virgin tears. Almost as good as the blood,” he sang, eyes rolling back in his head in a quick moment of bliss for just a moment before fixing back on your face. “Almost.”

You forgot how alluring he was, his sharp-featured face in particular. There was something magnetic about it, you couldn’t pull your gaze away no matter how intense he was. 

“So why’d you call me, hmm, darling?” He flashed his teeth villainously. “Missed my bite that much? Have something new to offer, perhaps?”

You dropped your gaze, but he tipped your chin up to meet his again almost immediately. “Look me in the eyes, darling. You’re the one that summoned me, the least you could do is give me that.”

“I shouldn’t have called you here. I shouldn’t have even thought—I should have known you wouldn’t care beyond your own interests,” you said, voice hoarse and shaky through your tears. 

He shrugged. “You’re probably right.”

“Asshole.” 

His brows furrowed. “Okay, a little uncalled for. But not entirely untrue.” He placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the bed. It took only a small nudge to plop you down. You felt the effects of the alcohol wash over you. “We can make a contract. If it makes you feel better.”

“What, you’re gonna ask for my blood again?” you scoffed.

“No.”

“Then?”

“Your tears.”

You paused, considering the stakes. “Fine, take them. What do I get?”

He took a seat next to you on the plush blanket, placing a surprisingly comforting hand on your back. “I’ll listen to you. Like, uh… a demon therapist,” he smiled at you from your side, flashing his fangs cheekily. “I promise I’ll do my best to stay serious. I’m contractually obligated.”

“Fine,” you agreed, slightly annoyed at how difficult you found it to resist him. His devilish charm was too much for you—even sober, but especially drunk. 

“Tears first,” he said decidedly, and you caught a glimpse of desire spark in his eyes. 

You nodded, shuffling your butt on the bed to face him. You expected him to run his fingers over your face, like he had earlier. Instead, he brushed his thumb over the side of your face slowly, dancing along the cut of your jaw, then leaned in to brush his lips over your cheek. You flinched as his lips connected with your skin softly, and you felt the distinct wetness of his tongue brushing over the surface. He lapped at your tears through deliberate, drawn-out kisses, and the cold metal of his lip ring felt unexpectedly nice drawing over your cheek. 

His hand came around to the back of your head, lacing his fingers in your hair to steady you. It was incredibly sensual, whether he meant it to be or not. He moaned pleasurably at the taste of your tears, though he didn’t have the same animalistic hunger he seemed to have when he’d tasted your blood. Probably for the best. 

“You’re so cute when you’re crying. Like a helpless little lamb. If I weren’t supposed to be nice to you right now, I’d have a half a mind to make you cry again,” he purred against your ear. 

His other hand threaded around the small of your waist, like he’d done when he drank your blood before. And you couldn’t lie, you kind of loved it. His position was unexpectedly romantic: one hand cupped around your waist, the other laced in your hair, delivering soft kisses and licks across your cheeks. You closed your eyes to get a better idea of the sensation, fisting your hands needily in the silky fabric of his button down. 

You felt him pull away suddenly, an amused smirk dancing up on his lips. “Someone’s getting spicy. This wasn’t in our contract.” 

Fuck. Something in your mind was telling you to kiss him. Not just telling, but more like screaming at you. Fucking kiss him. His lips looked so soft and alluring, so dangerously off-limits. You leaned in slightly, magnetized by his aura, only to feel him pull away entirely. 

“Okay. I’ve had my fun,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, roughing it up messily, giving you a perfect view at the cut of his jaw. “Now I hold up my end of the deal. You talk, I listen.”

Do we have to talk? you thought, annoyed. I’d rather just make out.

You gritted your teeth together as you tried desperately to shift your thoughts away from kissing him. But you couldn’t help but think about how his lips would taste against your lips, how his tongue would dance sinfully against yours, his fingers laced in your hair—god, what was wrong with you? It was probably all the drinks you had, making you unnecessarily sad and even more unnecessarily horny for your hot demon errand boy. You needed to get it the fuck together. 

You pushed away your fantasies for the night, as hard as that was. For the next hour or so, you lamented to him about your rough day, even going into a few things that had happened in the past week. He listened thoughtfully, carefully, though in the back of your mind you knew he was only being so attentive because he was ‘contractually obligated.’ 

You poured your heart to him, feeling incredibly vulnerable under his concentrated gaze. Though this time it wasn’t entirely predatory, but more like interested. Caring, even. You doubted that even was possible. Even so, as you talked, you felt more and more connected with him. 

For a moment, he seemed almost human. 

Summoning San became an almost nightly routine for you. 

You’d summon him, have him help you with mundane activities like homework, cleaning, cooking—whatever task you could think of to keep him around as long as possible. Of course, he couldn’t turn you down unless you didn’t have a reasonable counter to give him. 

Each time you summoned him, it seemed as though he cared less and less about the contract and seemed to enjoy your company a bit more. Not that he’d ever unveil that information to you—he always gave into your mundane proposals begrudgingly, but there was a glint in his eye that said he wanted to be there, even if he wouldn’t admit it yet. 

“You know I have other clients, right?” he’d joke. “You can’t summon me every night.”

“Oh, so you’re cheating on me?” you’d tease back. 

“Don’t worry,” he’d say with a charming wink. “You’re my favorite human.” 

“Not that there’s any competition, but you’re my favorite demon.” 

You loved the playful banter between you. He felt somehow easier to talk to than any human you’d met, perhaps because there was little to no social pressure involved. Something about your dynamic felt almost boyfriend-ish, in a way—if you could consider being a glorified errand boy a boyfriend-ish thing to do. He rarely divulged any personal information about himself, but you got to know him through the littlest things. His small habits, the things that made him laugh. 

You couldn’t believe it, but you were falling for him slowly, like some sort of pathetic schoolgirl crush. The highlight of your day was the minute you could conjure him, even just to see his face smiling in front of you, that familiar devilish grin as he appeared in your room. 

There was still something that felt entirely off-limits, though. Sure, you’d let him drink from your neck a few more times—each time he’d get better at controlling himself—but you weren’t sure how to cross the line from there. He’d been so forward on the very first night you met him. He even asked to take your virginity, which of course you outright denied. But even if it was a joke, if he was just messing with you, the idea swirled in your mind every now and again. You even dreamt of him a few times. But he hadn’t mentioned it since. 

It was late in the night. You had summoned San to do some menial house chores, as you usually did, in exchange for dinner and a back massage—something you weren’t even aware demons needed. San had explained it to you, but you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around the inhuman-soul in a human-vessel dynamic, so you chose not to question it too hard.

Today, something felt different about him. He was flirtier, sexier, more outlandishly charming than usual, if that was even possible. You watched him scrubbing your countertops like your hot demon maid—you even went so far as to dress him in an apron you spent a little too long picking out at the store—marveling at the small of his waist cinched in with the fabric tie. 

“Enjoying the view?” he teased with a playful glance over his shoulder, wiggling his hips. 

“Ugh, I was until you did that,” you joked back. “C’mon, that countertop isn’t gonna scrub itself.”

He gave his hips another shake, chuckling as you trained your gaze on his ass. “You’re so cute when you’re drooling over me. Get it together, darling. You’ve still got a massage to give.”  

He was just joking around with you, you knew that. He was probably just as charming with his other summoners, or his ‘clients’ as he called them. But he was right, you couldn’t help but drool over him. It was moments like this where you fell for him, hard, pretty much flat on your face. You wished so desperately for him to be human right now, just for a second. You wanted him to give you a sweet, squeezing hug, kissing your forehead. You wanted to feel his arms around your waist, pulling you in close. You wanted to ask him on a date. You wanted him. 

But you’d have to settle for watching him clean your house. God, what was wrong with you? You couldn’t have caught feelings for a human boy?

And now you had to give him a massage, which wasn’t going to make it any better. 

He laid himself face down on your bed, face resting gingerly against your pillow. You straddled him, setting yourself down gently on the back of his thighs. You had admittedly never given a massage before, but you weren’t going to let that stop you. Your hands explored below the hem of his shirt, lifting up slowly to reveal the soft, perfectly tanned skin underneath. You were able to get a better view of his proportions, the way his waist curved in so delicately and then up into his beautifully broad shoulders. He was fit, but not too muscular, slender, but not too thin. He was absolutely immaculate. 

You rubbed circles in his back, drawing out the sweetest moans from his lips as you massaged down on his muscles. “I may be cursed with this human body—ah—but this does feel kind of amazing,” he admitted in a voice slightly muffled by the pillows. 

You worked at his muscles until he seemed satisfied, even rolling your palms around his neck and shoulders to hear his sweet groans of pleasure. It was unbelievably enticing, and you felt dampness pooling between your legs.  

When you were done he rolled on to his stomach. You watched in awe at the rise and fall of his chest, the tip of his chin accentuating his sharp jawline. You didn’t want him to leave. 

He stood himself up from the bed, shaking his muscles out a bit before smiling cheekily, flashing his fangs as he always did. “Looks like our contract today is complete. See you tomorrow, hmm?” he winked. 

“San wait—”

“Yes?”

“I want another contract.”

He paused to contemplate, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip in thought. He cocked his pierced eyebrow up, stepping forward to close the distance between you. “What’s that, little lamb? Are you finally gonna let me take that pretty little soul?”

You swallowed, mustering up the courage to make your move. “I want you to kiss me.”

“You—what?” he sputtered, clearly caught off guard by your proposition. 

“I’m asking you to kiss me,” you repeated.

You watched his eyes go dark, slightly hooded as he trained his gaze back on you. In contrast from his lighthearted mood earlier in the day, he looked particularly lustful as his eyes found your lips. 

“So, if you want to make a contra—” 

He was on you before you could finish your sentence. His hands found your hips, squeezing tightly to pull you against him.

His lips lingered over yours, the warmth of his breath washing over you like soft waves. He didn’t stay there for long, pulling your lips against his fully. He tasted like heaven, hell, and everything in between. You craved for him as thirstily, barely coming up for air as your lips rocked slowly against each other’s. One of his hands was laced in your hair, the other steadying against your neck. For a moment, you forgot he was even a demon at all, except for the inhumanly exquisite taste of his lips.

He pulled away for only enough time to choke out his next words in a low growl. “I guess I’ll make an exception on the contract this once. Once.”

He bit playfully at your bottom lip, lightly twirling his tongue around the surface. Then harder. You yelped as his fang sunk in, tearing off a small piece of flesh. He smirked against your lips, drawing his tongue across the blood with sensual breaths. His hands came to your shoulders to swivel your hips around, backing you into the wall next to your door frame, caging you in with his body. 

“I always forget how good you taste,” he purred in your ear. He grasped at your body hungrily through your clothes, like he was ready to rip through them at any moment.

You could have stayed there forever, his body trapping you against the wall, lips on you like he would never have another chance to taste you. But he pushed away suddenly, his eyes flashing a demonic black for a moment angrily. 

“Fuck. I have to go. I’m getting another call,” he hissed through his teeth. 

“San wait I—” 

But he was gone. 

Your knees gave out under you weakly, sliding your back down the wall, staring at the empty space he had occupied. He wasn’t yours. He wasn’t your boyfriend, or even your friend. He was a demon. You couldn’t afford to forget that for even a moment. 

It was just too good to be true.

You didn’t discuss the kiss further, not for a while at least. He’d made a few passing comments on his nightly house calls, but you hadn’t dared bring it up again in conversation. However, on one night in particular, you had summoned him without purpose. You were admittedly lonely, and frankly, a bit horny. You wanted company, and he was always on call. 

“Yes, my liege?” he teased with a bow as he appeared in your room. And there was that intoxicating smile again. 

“Will you just talk to me tonight?”

“Okay, darling. And what do I get, hmm?”

“No contract.”

“You know that isn’t how this wo—” 

“I want to know you’re not just here because you have to be tonight. But if you really don’t want to be here, you can leave. You know the way out.”

He sighed heavily. “Y/N, you know this isn’t—”

“Please.” 

You saw the look on his face soften, and he gave in with a nod that said ‘fine, but just this once’.

You talked across from each other on the bed for a while, talking about anything that came to your mind, though not much about him. He mostly listened, cut in a few times with a quip or a cheeky comment, but kept his eyes trained on you with complete concentration otherwise. You actually hadn’t expected him to be such a good listener. Better than most humans you knew, anyway. You loved the moments where you caught a glimmer of humanity, although you knew that wasn’t possible. The only human thing about him was his body, after all. 

As you made conversation, your mind wandered elsewhere. You couldn’t help but admire the curve of his lips, the sharp cut of his jaw, his crimson eyes shining like rubies. You felt completely intoxicated by him, as you always did. He was entirely tempting and yet felt completely off limits, even though you had entertained many times the thought of him fucking you. The thought flickered through your head even now. You imagined every rise of the muscles in his chest, sweat glistening on his skin as he towered over you. You imagined what his dick might look like, sliding in and out of you. You imagined his lips all over your body, every curve of your skin, every inch of you from head to toe.

The tension in the room grew thick as you watched his mouth, concentrated on every movement, every flick of his tongue, the faint glimmer of his metal lip ring, the fangs glistening under his slightly parted lips. There wasn’t an ounce of subtlety in the way you watched him, and he slowly stopped moving entirely, focusing all his energy on to you again. You craved the intense heat of his gaze now—you were no longer uncomfortable with his severity, only further entranced by how it pulled you in. You were entirely in his trap. You leaned forward, initiating the kiss, and he leaned in to meet you. His tongue slid against yours, and you reciprocated fervently. He tasted incredible, and the way he moaned against your lips indicated he felt the same about you. “You’re intoxicating,” he purred, his heavy breaths sounding like music in your ears. You wanted him, entirely. Since the moment he’d first appeared you’d wanted him.

Your hands explored his chest, his arms, the small of his waist—everywhere you could touch, you did. His chest was rock-solid, a beautiful display of muscle sculpted beautifully on his core. You felt every desire you’d ever had compounding at once within you, it rocked through you like a wave: the need to be touched, held, fucked right this moment. Although you’d never done it before, at least with another person, you had plenty of experience with the vibrator in your room, and recently, with picturing San as you pleasured yourself. Either way, if you had done it with another human or not, it probably wouldn’t have even mattered—he wasn’t human at all, in fact. What he was was danger wrapped up in an alluringly human-like package.  

“I want you to fuck me, San,” you said confidently, letting the words the drip off your tongue, slowly and deliberately. 

Your bodies were nearly flush, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His finger traced along your jaw, a low grumble rolling up through his throat, coming up through his teeth in a hiss. “You can’t tempt me with that kind of offer,” he growled, and the way his fingers trembled as they met your skin indicated his ultimate self-control. “I don’t think you understand how I can get...”

“I saw it, San, before. Remember? I’m not scared of you,” you countered. But that last part was kind of a lie.

“I can’t,” He took a final step closer, closing any remaining gap between you. “Fuck… you don’t understand how… delicious you look to me right now,” he hissed through his teeth, his voice getting rougher and deeper as he held himself together. “I can’t help myself. It’s like some sort of animal instinct.”

“San, please. I can handle it. You even admitted you wanted my virginity the day we met.”

“I was joking back then… sort of. I might be soulless, but I’m not heartless. I couldn’t hurt you.” He gritted his teeth, restraining his heavy, lusted breaths.

“So you don’t want to?”

“Fuck, I do… I do more than anything. Every time I look at you I picture myself destroying you—”

“Then do it.”

“Gah, you—fuck.” He planted a few restrained kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck. He dragged his fangs along the taut flesh, threatening to sink them in. “I can try to hold myself back. No promises.” 

“Please, San,” you whined. Your hands fisted the silky fabric of his shirt, drawing his chest as close to yours as possible. 

“Mmf,” he grunted against your neck, digging his nails into your waist hungrily. “Fuck, you taste like a drug.” He pulled back, his eyes darker now. His usually crimson irises looked nearly black in his state of temptation, so much so that you could barely make out the whites of his eyes. He looked more like a demon than ever before, the wicked aura almost possessing him. He shook his head, as if trying to purify himself. “I can’t—I’m gonna hurt you. Don’t do this to me, I’m not going to be able to—” 

You pulled down the collar of your shirt, revealing your shoulders and a hint of your chest. His eyes went hungry, trained on the soft curve of your collarbone lustfully, wickedly. “I’m giving my body to you, please... Take it.” 

His voice was a low growl, and he seemed to be restraining himself with everything he had left. Thick, enraged veins bulged from his forearms as he grasped at your waist. ��I’m telling you, I’m going to lose control… you’re not gonna recognize me.”

“I know. San, please. I’m asking you to take my virginity.”

He finally snapped under your words, his eyes almost fully consumed with black now. His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking gently at the soft skin around it. His desperate clawing nearly tore the fabric of your shirt from your skin as his kisses feasted on you hungrily. You tipped your head back, his lips and tongue eliciting soft moans from you as they danced along the top half of your chest.

His voice was so deep now it nearly rumbled, barely sounding like the San you knew. “You’re delicious—fuck—even better than I remember.” 

His hands pushed you back against the pillows with more strength than he probably meant to use, nearly knocking the wind out of you with his force. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, and you yelped in surprise at the sting of his teeth in your flesh. You felt the distinctly wet and all-too-familiar sensation of blood as the canines pierced your skin. He licked it clean, his whole body shaking with desire as your blood washed over his tongue. He sang the most beautiful moans you’d ever heard into your skin, lapping up every last drop clean from where he’d punctured you. 

You had grown addicted to the sensation of his teeth on your skin and his tongue licking up the blood, like some sort of weird demon-vampire fetish you had never considered before. You laced your fingers in his hair as he worked his way down your chest, tearing away the fabric of your shirt apart with his hands like it was a wet piece of paper, and he didn’t stop until the mess of torn fabric that used to be your shirt slipped off of you easily. His lips kissed and marked your breasts as he worked his way down, then ripped off your pants with the same distinct sound of fabric being torn through like it was nothing. 

His dark eyes gleamed hungrily as he met your gaze. He used his tongue sinfully between your thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he kissed and licked around the seam of your panties. You were soaking wet now, the fabric of your underwear entirely drenched from the anticipation. Not just from today, but from the past few weeks of fantasizing about him completely wrecking you. His fangs gripped into the wet fabric, nearly taking your skin with it as he pulled your panties out from between your legs—the only piece of clothing he hadn’t entirely torn off.

“What a cute little human pet,” he purred seductively in your ear, dragging his fingernails across the cut of your jaw. You winced as he drew his hand over your freshly bitten wound. “It’s too bad your blood won’t be so sweet after I’m done with you, hmm, darling? Maybe just one more time, hmm?”

You felt his teeth sink down into your shoulder, and he pulled you entirely flush against him as he bit down with more ferocity than before. You cried out against him as he slipped his tongue delicately over the wound. His hungry grip around your waist grew tighter with every lick. 

“San—ah—” you cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as he soothed your wound with his tongue, hands coming up to squeeze your breasts.

“I could drain you right here,” he growled harshly, but there was still lust coating his words. You felt his dick harden in his pants as he pulled his teeth from your skin, leaving the aching sting of the fresh wound on your collarbone. You felt a bit dizzy now, not only with lust but also from losing quite a bit of blood to his tongue. He stood up suddenly, stripping like clothes meant nothing to him, ripping them off and tossing them to the floor. His breathing was less like breaths and more like throaty grunts. You were able to marvel at his naked body for only a second before he climbed on top of you, forcing you to lie completely flat under him, his broad shoulders closing you in completely.

“Such a cute human,” he praised, marveling at your smallness, your complete powerlessness beneath him. You couldn’t move if you wanted to, his body caged you in from all sides—it’s a good thing you didn’t want to. His eyes were intense, predatory, but not entirely possessed like he had been before just at the mere taste of your blood. You were surprised by his restraint he seemed to be holding on to. “Tiny, powerless… I want to hear you beg for me,” he purred into your ear. As he awaited your response, he lapped gently at the wounds he’d made earlier, collecting the remaining blood on his tongue with a needy moan.  

“Please, San—” you started apprehensively, unsure of exactly what he wanted from you. Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke, and heat rose in your cheeks. 

He clicked his tongue twice. “Tsk, tsk. I forgot, she’s too pure for this.” 

“Fuck me. Please—” 

“That’s better darling.”

“I want your cock, please, San.”

“I don’t want to hurt you baby, but you’re too fucking tempting. So cute and helpless beneath me.” He drew one of his hands lightly across your chest, dragging his fingers along every curve. “Begging. Embarrassed. It’s adorable.”

His hand drew over your stomach. Hips. Thighs. Then, finally, between your legs, delivering a small, fleeting taste of the pleasure you’d been searching for all night. You bucked your hips up involuntarily under his touch, and he drew his hand back teasingly. His eyes, hooded with desire, were fixed on your face, reveling in every reaction, every small noise that crept up through your throat. Darkness crept through them, nearly entirely black now. He looked like a real demon. 

“What a naughty girl. Practically dripping for me. I thought you were pure, hmm? What happened?” he sang condescendingly, a smirk twitching up on his lips. “Be a sweet little pet for me now.” 

He pushed his hips flush with yours, his cock aligning up against you. A low growl ripped through his throat, digging his fingernails into the sheets with a terrifying display of force. “This is probably gonna hurt, darling,” he purred. “Look me in the eyes. I want to see your cute little face as I ruin you.” He tipped your chin up to meet his eyes just as he rutted his hips in for the first time. 

The tip slipped in easily, but you couldn’t help but wince at the sensation. You’d tried toys before, but nothing could compare to the size—or feeling—of the real thing. “Ah—ah San, it—it kind of hurts,” you whined, your face twisting a bit as he pumped a few times, slowly and shallowly. He watched your face with blackened eyes. 

“You have no idea—” Thrust. “How hard—” Thrust. “It is to—” Thrust. “Keep myself from destroying you.” 

Your broken cries echoed loudly as his mouth came down on your wounds once again, delivering wet, desperate licks at the bloody remnants of the punctures he created. It stung harshly, and a single tear escaped your eyes. He pulled away from your chest, positioning himself completely upright, dick still halfway inside of you. You got a good look at his hard chest, an immaculate display of muscle. An unidentifiable tattoo snaked down his right side. He looked almost statuesque poised above you. 

“Such pretty tears. My little lamb,” he praised with a low growl, sinking his fingernails into the flesh of your thighs. “Fuck—tell me I can ruin you—” his fingernails dug deeper.

You nodded, urging him on. You initiated it, you wanted it, even if he scared you a bit with his harsh gaze and his tightening grip threatening to mark up your skin. “Yes. Please.” With a single thrust he bottomed out inside you entirely, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. You tossed your head back, but you could still feel the heat of his stare following your every moment, taking in every curve and scar of your body. “Good little human,” he praised, stroking your thighs as he thrust in again. Every movement he made overwhelmed your senses entirely—a lethal mix of the sting of your wounds, the sensitivity of his hands exploring your thighs, the feeling of his dick stretching out inside you, and finally, how much you craved him. 

His hand came up to your throat, latching on to it with a steady viced grip. His eyes went hooded, hungry as he squeezed the air from your lungs. Harder. Tighter. His fingers viced around your neck with dizzying force. You squirmed beneath him, clawing at his hand desperately. TV static buzzed in your brain, and the world went blurry. You just barely caught a glimpse of his black eyes fading back to red before your vision slipped away into darkness. 

Your eyes shuttered open to the familiar image of your ceiling. You recognized you were in your own bed, fully clothed, tucked under the covers neatly. Before you could survey your surroundings, San’s face was above you, eyebrows slightly furrowed, tilting his head as he looked down at you. You’d never seen his eyes so soft.

“Look, she’s awake.” His voice was calmer than usual, warmer. “How do you feel?”

“Like hell,” you croaked, voice hoarse as you choked out your words. 

“I don’t say this often...” he started, placing a hand on your head. “But I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have even done that in the first place. I went too far.”

“I—what happened—”

“You blacked out. I, uh, well... I choked you until you passed out. I told you, it’s hard for me to control myself like that.” 

“Did you—”

“Of course not,” he interjected, not even letting you finish. He knew what you were implying. “As soon as you stopped moving it snapped me out of it.”

You dropped your gaze, recalling how you saw his black eyes turn to normal right before you lost consciousness. “Right. Uh… thanks.”

“I like my prey fresh, anyways. It’s not fun when I can’t watch them squirm.” And there it was. His devilish smile again. His tongue twitched across his lower lip, playing with his lip ring absentmindedly. He quickly cleared his throat when he saw the unamused expression on your face. “I hope… uh, I hope at least you were having fun before—you know.”

You nodded in response as you tried to sit upright in the bed. Bad idea. Your vision went dizzy, and a rush of pain pounded through your skull. “Ah—ow, fuck.”

“Should I get you some water or something? Whatever it is that humans want when they hurt.” 

You rolled your eyes at his pointedly un-human response. “Sure, water sounds fine.”

He retrieved you a glass from the kitchen, setting it on the nightstand. “I hate to do this, but I’ve been here for way too long,” he started hesitantly. You could see the regret in his eyes. “Without a contract too. I could get in trouble for this.”

“It’s fine, you can go,” you muttered. “I could use some sleep right now anyway.” 

He nodded quietly, administering a small, strangely awkward pat to your head. “Right. Well, uh… get some sleep.” 

You barely blinked before he was gone, but it didn’t matter anyway. You were asleep before you could even take a sip of the water he’d gotten you. 

[pinkispoggers]

2121 | Lance Bishop x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: therapy and suicidal thought mentions, ALSO SMUT

Previous chapter: Questions Lead to Answers

Please Read!! Hi, so I just want to let you know that this will not be the last chapter, there will be more! And please, please, pleaseeeee (if you can) go read the Marvel Aliens Comic. It will help with the understanding of "therapist/shrink Bishop". And plus, it's good. Also Tw for Suicidal thought mentions and Therapy in general. (Also one more thing. The grammar fucking sucks (I think and I know) and none of this makes a shit bit of sense)

Words: 4.8k

enjoy!

When you wake up from Cryosleep, Bishop is nowhere to be found, just like you expected but you couldn't worry about him right now, you had to be on time for the next sleep, back to earth where you heard you would be hooked up with a new therapist like every marine and crew member was. You didn't exactly know why but you rolled with it.

As you were preparing to go to sleep in the second cryo, you heard a familiar voice talking and then walked in, it was Bishop, half-naked of course. He hopped into another sleeping chamber, but before his shut, he had a few last words. "Y/n, I left something in your bag…" and then he shut his lid by himself. "Something in my bag? What?" You whisper as you are being shut in, and there goes your second sleep.

You wake up… in a hospital? You suspected everyone did but you weren’t sure. You groggily sit up, trying to really see where you were. Yep, a hospital room with one nurse sitting in the back of the room, right next to you. "Hello?" You say and the nurse gets startled. "She's awake!!" The nurse called and a bunch of doctors rush in. "Woah- woah, woah, woah, what's going on…" you say tiredly. "Well, you have been in a coma for 2 days and we are going to let you go in 2 days. Is that OK with you?" "Yeah that's fine." You say, not really knowing what's going on.

_______________________________

The 2 days have passed and you are ready to go to your new home, a lovely little one-bedroom apartment. You get in a taxi and you are off. While you are sitting with all your things, it pops in your brain, that "thing" Bishop had given you. You can't get it now, as all your things are in the trunk of the taxi.

You arrive at the new place, feeling a little nervous, but you calm yourself. It's only 2 stories, and it's the only apparent in a few blocks. The only one you could get. You step inside. Yours is on the top floor, but stairs were all good to you. You get up there, and unlock the door.

It's beautiful! It's the perfect apartment to you. You sigh. There's a couch in the middle of the place, up against the wall, and you sit on in, grabbing your stuff and opening one of the bags. You don't know what you are looking for, but you knew you were looking for something foreign. "Aha!" You say as you found it. A chip.

"A chip?" You whisper. You get up, chip in hand and head over to your computer, in your bedroom. You plug the chip in and something pops up.

WEYLAND-YUTANI CORP

W

BUILDING BETTER WORLDS

A bunch of information came up.

BISHOP-MODEL- 341-B

And other things like relations, hyperdyne information, and others you had no care about. "It's… it's you…" you say softly. He had given you a copy of himself, his system.

You wanted to start crying. You were grateful for this, but you had no way to put this to use. That was the sad part. You leave your computer open and lie down on your bed. It's not the most comfortable, but it's something. You fade off to sleep after almost 30 minutes of pondering.

The next day

You stumble out of bed, staring at the ceiling. You had almost forgot you had your first session of therapy today. To say you were nervous would be an understatement.

You left your apartment, saying goodbye to the only plant you owned, on a tiny windowsill. You called a taxi and waited out front. Every moment that passed, you spent worrying about who you would get, what you would talk about, ya know, stuff like that. The taxi arrived and you headed off, not thinking anything of the trip until you saw a sign that said: WEYLAND-YUTANI CORPS

"Ah fuck" you mutter. You really didn't like the Weyland-yutani corps cause you thought it was really fucked up. What they were doing there behind closed doors, but you held up your end as a loyal Crew Member and Science officer… like Bishop.

You get out of the car and feel the air around you, it's nice. You step into the big building, guards letting you in and escorting you to the office where you would wait for your new therapist. You fill out all of the forms you need and sit and wait.

Almost 30 minutes later someone comes out and guides you to the office and walks away without saying a word. Anxiety was tearing at your chest, you felt like you were being pulled down but then the door opened. A tall, about 5'10 man looks (up/down) at you and a shiver goes down your spine, it's a Bishop model. "Uh-" you stumble on your words. "Is something wrong?" He asks and you shake your head and walk in as he holds the door open for you.

You go to sit down at a chair across from another chair on the other side of a dark oak desk, the big Weyland-Yutani corps logo and a blue-green wallpaper all around the room. The Bishop model comes to sit down across from you and grabs a laptop from a bookshelf in the side of the room. He opens it and jots down a few notes before striking up a conversation.

"Hello miss L/n, how are you doing today?" He said and you shivered in your seat. That beautiful voice. But it wasn't like the model that you meant. "I'm fine" you said blankly, wanting to say more, like you knew him, but you didn’t. "I- I mean I'm good!!" You change your mood so he doesn't suspect anything is wrong.

"Sorry to ask again but, is there something you want to tell me, to talk about.?" He says looking up at you with beautiful eyes. "Shit, uh… well… i- this is kinda hard for me cause I knew another Bishop model. And well…" you didn't want to give all the details because you honestly didn't want anybody knowing about your sexual relationship with the synthetic. "Ah, 2 other people that I've met with have! My model seems to be popular" He smiles.

You smile gently then peer over him to see a picture of some… familiar Marines? And was that… you? "Bishop?" You ask "yes miss L/n?" He says. "Can you tell me about that photo behind you?" You ask and he nods. "Well, that's supposed to be me before my memory chip was taken out, no one knows where it is so I was transferred to the therapy unit, given a new chip, and here I am!" He put his hands in prayer position, just fingers touching.

"Do you- do you see that woman on the side?" "Yes, she kind of looks like you!" He smiles. "That's because it is! Oh Bishop, before you gave me… I mean you lost your chip, we were friends!" You smile back "oh… you are a beautiful woman miss L/n. I wish to get to know you better!" He says and you blush hard. "Same?" You blush.

You begin to talk about the things you would normally have talked about with a random person, but a little more comfortable. He asked you things like any suicidal thoughts, or any thoughts of hurting others or yourself, things like

that. You talked about your friendly relationship with Bishop and the Marines, and how you met Bishop and the others. Overall it was a comforting talk. He made you feel safe.

The end of the meeting finally came and you felt great! You found this very helpful and calming. He taps your shoulder on the way out. "I never caught your name." He says. "Y/n!" You reply. He smiles. "Such a beautiful name" and you blush. You smile at him and walk out. You felt amazing! He shuts the door behind you and you smile and blush as butterflies fill your stomach.

You walk out of the building with no care in the world. You felt free, not locked up in the Sulaco, or in your apartment, the only difference would be you could leave your apartment any time unless you felt unsafe. You sit down at the desk with your laptop and see the same stuff as yesterday. "Shit." You say as you had missed the opportunity to tell him about it.

You stare blankly at the notes, not seeing anything wrong until you scroll down the page. "What?"

⚠️ERROR

CHIP MAY BE DAMAGED

PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS ⚠️

"Hm?" You say as you take out the chip to inspect it and you see a tear on the side of the chip. You pay no attention to it as you need to sleep. You put it down on the table and head to your bed. You lie in your bed, thinking of him, Bishop. All the things you could have talked about, showed him. Maybe next time you can. You finally fade off to sleep.

A week later

"RING RING RING" the alarm sounds. "Oh fuck off" you reply to the ringing in your head. You slowly get up from the bed, knowing what today was. Another meeting with Bishop. That lit you up with joy. You had a great idea… probably not the best, but to you it was great. You went over to the computer, grabbed the chip and put it in your pocket. You got some clothes on and rushed outside, forgetting breakfast, as you were too excited for the day. You reach for your phone to call a Taxi and it's there within minutes.

Inside his office______________

"Hello Y/n!" He starts the conversation, which you knew could go two ways. "Hello Bishop! How are you?" You ask. "Oh i'm just fine! How are you?" He returns. "I'm good! I have something to show you!" You say as you pull the chip out of your pocket. "What could that be? He asks and then he sees it. "Hm? A chip?" He asks "mhm! Yours. It's your missing chip. Look, you're not going to remember this but you gave it to me before going into our second cryo sleep." You say shyly, feeling connected to him, but also feeling difficulty to breathe, not knowing how he is going to react.

"No, sadly I don't remember, but I am going to need that." He says, holding his ground. "Fuck. Bishop, please understand, this was basically a gift… please, please notice that." You cry. "I'm sorry Y/n, please give it here" he laments. Before you could say, or do anything else, you got an idea, and not a good one. "No." You say as you get up and walk out of the room. "Fuck fuck fuck!" You say as you start to speed walk as you see he is right behind you.

You turn a corner but he sees you. You head towards the exit of the back rooms. He follows and you run out of the exit, hiding behind a side wall. You grab your phone and call a Taxi. Within 5 minutes it's here and you bold out from behind the wall, Bishop watching from behind. He just stands there, knowing you are going to try to get away, but he has a task that he needs to fulfill. Getting that chip. You hop in the car and you are off.

A few minutes later you are close to your house but you see a car behind you. You are in the back seat of the taxi, so you can easily turn around but you already knew who it was. It’s been a few more minutes and you knew it was him because why would anyone be following you this long? You reach your apartment and say thank you to the already worried driver and run in before Bishop could get out of his car.

"Shiiiit" you whisper as you run up the stairs, looking out for him through the space between the railing and he's already there, about to come up the stairs. He looks up into your eyes and a chill rolls down your spine. You run into your apartment, making sure he saw which one it was. You leave the door wide open and run into the closet across from your bedroom. Your bedroom door is shut and you hope he thinks you're in there. "Y/n?" He calls and you giggle.

You guessed he heard you because you could hear footsteps coming to the bedroom door. You slowly walk towards the inside of the closet door, plotting how you are going to go through with this. You know about Weyland-yutani synthetics and most of their anatomy. You remembered that there is a slot in his neck and you have to be careful because it could damage him if you are too rough. You plan it out within the next few seconds. You burst out.

You grab hold of his neck and wrap one leg around his torso. You're eying the slot behind his ear, barely covered by his ear. You snatch it out before he has time to react and you grab the other chip from your pocket as the other falls to the ground. You shove it in the slot and just before he can lay a hand on you, his

arms drop to his sides and you jump off of him backing away into the corner of the room as he turns around.

He's seeming to scan the room and then his beautiful eyes lock with yours. "Y/n?" He says and you nod happily. "How? How did you get me? Ho-" he said as you cut him off with a hug "doesn't matter, I missed you Bishop" you hop up to kiss him but he pushes you off. "Bishop?" "Sorry Y/n, something happened, I'm not sure what it is" He walks out of the room to go sit down on the couch in the living room, just leaving you in the closet. "What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself. He did not just do that, you thought.

You walk out of the closet slowly and walk over to the couch to sit next to him, to see if you could make things a little less awkward. "Hey… are you ok?" You ask softly. "No actually. Something in my system is off. I'm trying to figure out what it is at the moment. Sorry for any discomfort that I may have caused back there." He said unsure of himself, but you could tell that he knew what he did back there and that he was sorry. You easily forgave him and tried to sit beside him on the couch.

You try to get closer to him and he let's you. You rest your head on his shoulder and he pushes you off, again.

"Bishop? What's wrong, you weren't like this before." "Again, I'm sorry Y/n something in me is twitchy. I'm trying to resolve the problem right now." He says, staring into space. "Your chip?" You ask, remembering the warning on the computer screen when you plugged it in. "Maybe, do you think it's damaged?" He asks "well I was looking at it yesterday and it had a tear in on the side.

I could try to repair it? You say and he nods. "Can I?" You ask as your hand reaches up to his neck and he nods. But before you could take it out, a large hand hovered over your neck, then softly grabbing it and pulling you closer to him. He kisses you, pulling you in, gripping your hair, or what he could grab. You missed this, you missed this greatly, and you never wanted it to end but it had to, you knew it was a glitch. You reached your hand up to the back of his neck and behind his ear and pulled the chip out.

He went blank, and you pulled away from him, looking at his glassy eyes. You hop up from where you're sitting, making sure he's ok, and you walk to your room. You inspect the tear on the chip and try to push it together but nothing is working. "Fuck" you mutter. You go over to get the glue from the corner of the table. You had a gut feeling you would fuck it up even more, but you only wanted him back and that's what was driving you.

You smeared the glue around the crack and smushed it together with little force but it stayed and your mood lightened, honestly thinking this was gonna work. You ran to the living room, excited for this to work. You hopped on the couch, Indian style in front of him and hugged his lifeless, synthetic body. You reached over and gently plugged the chip into the socket and he awoke.

As he began to blink, he started to gaze around the room until he found you. "Y/n, did it work?" He asks. His first words since you put the chip in. "I think it did!" You shake happily. He leans in for I kiss and you happily kiss him. It doesn't last long but it's something alright!. He gets up from the couch without warning and goes to the kitchen. "What are you doing Bishop?" You ask and he looks back at you and winks. "Hm…" you whisper to yourself and turn on the TV.

A few minutes later

Your favorite show is on and you are comfortable where you are at. Bishop strides into the room with a plate in hand. "Awww… you didn’t have to!" You say and he nods gently. "Well, you have helped me and now I shall give you something back." He says and you blush. He walks over to you to give you your favorite food. "How did you know this was my favorite?" "I have no clue, but I do know how to cook and make some things." He laments and you smile widely as you take the plate and dig in.

As you finish your meal, he is hooked to the TV screen. "It's a good show isn't it?" You laugh as his eyes are wide open, barely

blinking. "Oh my gods Bishop, you are hooked," you say as you lean onto his shoulder. He doesn't stop you this time and you smile. "A very good show" He murmurs. "I know right. I'm obsessed with it." You say and he chuckles. His hand reaches to your leg and gently glides up and down. "Oh Bishop let's move this to the bedroom." You smirk "Oh? Alright," He picks you up in bridal style.

You gasp but you are ok with it. When you reach the bedroom, he lets you down onto the bed slowly. He unbuttons his shirt and throws It aside. You reach to take of your shirt but he's already there, ripping it off with no hesitation. "Bishop- that was one of my favorite shirts," you say, a little angry. "My apologies Y/n'' he says as he kisses you deeply and you kiss him back. "Apology accepted" you smile on his lips. He takes one breast in hand and fondles with it slowly. "Oh…" you moan and he smiles and pushes his tongue against your teeth and you let him in.

Before you could do anything else, he pulls off of you and pulls his pants and boxers down and you see him. All of him. Fully hard, pressed against your leg. He slowly pulls down your pants and underwear in one and he sees all of you. You smile nervously and he nods. "I won't judge, I've seen you before, remember?" He says and you nod. His large hands push your legs apart and pushes you up to the bed frame, holding you up 4 inches above the bed, arms wrapped around your torso so you don't fall.

He starts a trail of kisses up your leg and you shake a little, knowing what he is going to do. He reaches your sex. "Is this ok?" He asks and with a quiet "mhm" his tongue delves into your folds and you let out a gasp. His tongue circles around your clit slowly and your knees shake. One of your hands reaches over to grip his hair and the other, to grip the sheets for support. His slow circles got faster until you couldn’t take it anymore. you're shuddering, and quivering under him.

"Bishop… oh! I'm gonna-" he cuts you off applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit and you explode with pleasure. "Ah-AH!!" You scream, knowing you have neighbors but you couldn't give a shit right now. Your chest is rising and falling as you are still in his arms, coming down from your high. "B- Bishop… you're too good for me" you laugh and he rises from your heat and smiles.

He sets you down on the bed gently and grips the sides of your waist. His cock is even closer to your pussy than before. You move your hips closer to his stomach and he takes the hint as he lines himself up with your entrance. You moan out for him to continue and as soon as you know it, his tip is in, letting you adjust to his size. "Please" you moan with soft eyes looking into his. With a snap of his hips, his cock is all the way in you, and you scream out his name.

"Are you ok with this?" He asks. "Mhm!" You say, holding back tears. He slowly starts to thrust and he leans down on you and buries his head in your neck. everything that is coming out of his mouth are moans and grunts. Your eyes roll back into your head and your head is chin up. "You're doing- s- so good." You call out. He smiles, leaving a trail of kisses up your neck as one hand makes it to your neck and grips it lightly. He speeds up his pace and the pain quickly turns into pleasure.

You wrap your arms around him as he's pumping in and out of you, your nails digging into his back, feeling around it but also trying to get a grip on him. He sucks on the skin of your neck, leaving a light bruise there, and you moan softly. As he's pounding into you, you notice that the bed frame is wiggling out of place but you couldn't care less. Every thrust is hitting your G Spot and a single tear falls down your face.

One of his hands reaches down to your clit, while the other tightens around your neck slightly, to a comfortable position. "Ah! Bishop!!" You yell out and his thumb speeds up against your clit. Your legs begin to shake, and your hand grips the sheets. He grunts loudly, and his thrusting speeds to an unhuman pace and you are in a heaven on earth. You are moaning

his name, quite loud but you didn’t care if anyone heard.

"D- don't stop" you moan out and he grunts as he pounds harder into you, a finger faster around your clit. His thrusts were getting sloppier and sloppier as he began to grunt even more. With one more thrust came a loud "CRACK" from the back board of the bed frame. You couldn't think straight with all the pleasure coursing through your veins, making you feel ecstasy."f- fuck… the bed frame!" You say bet he shushes you. "Im- i- im-" you try to make out but he whispers in your ear "Please do my love." As he applies more pressure to your clit. And you cum violently around his cock, moaning his name, and scratching his back wildly.

As you are cumming around him, a hot liquid shoots into you and you quiver under him one last time. He falls on top of you, not too harshly, but hard enough to make you squeak. You try your best to push him off of you but he won't budge. He finally notices he might be hurting you and pushes himself up. Right before he could say something, or smile even, you pushed him off of you, and under you. "Y/n?" He smirked and you positioned yourself over his cock, hovering on top of it, looking into his cow eyes.

"I'm not done, Bishop" you sigh and smile, a little self conscious but you knew he wouldn't judge. You moan as you lower yourself onto him and his head flies back onto the pillow and he lets out a low groan. You position yourself so that you are sturdy enough to start moving. You start to move up and down on him and he grabs hips gently. He's helping you move on him and you start to smile, one hand playing with your clit, and the other on his soft chest.

"Oh!" You shout and he grunts, you assume to speed up, so you do. He's moving his hips to the rhythm of your pumps. You flung your head back, do to all the pleasure and body heat emitting off of you and him. Every thrust he made would send you into a galaxy full of stars that you've never seen before. The pace was perfection; The strength was immaculate; The feelings that you felt were like nothing you had ever experienced before, and all you could think about was hoping this moment never ended. He's perfect. He's lifting you up and down his shaft and everything goes numb for a second but you are holding on perfectly.

You look into his eyes as he looks back into them with a gleam in his. You keep a stare on him while he's making you feel like you could explode. You rock your fingers around your clit even faster than before. You are a moaning and panting mess above him, but you held eye contact with him until you couldn't see straight anymore. "Im- MPF," you say as you pulse around his cock, cumming for the last time. As your walls are gripping his length, his legs are slightly convulsing under you. He left you buzzed. You wondered if he could actually feel something, or what it was like for him.

As you are coming down from your high, he's trying his best to sit up. He does and hugs you while you are still on him. You breathe hot against his neck, panting, and slowly letting go of your grip on him. He begins to massage your scalp; it feels amazing. Then without warning, he lifts you off of him and you gasp. He sets you down beside him and you get under the sheets but he just lies there. You snuggle close to him and he stretches one arm around you and you bury your head into his underarm.

"Hey bishop…" you say and he turns his head your way "How did you emit that much heat when I was riding you?" You ask and he chuckles "Ok, so let me make it simple; it's kind of like when a computer heats up because there is too much going on in the system processor, or anything else that would make it slower or heated." He says with a wide smile. "Oh… was I overheating you?! I'm so sorry!" You cry but he laughs again "no, it's not your fault, it's all the energy building together in me." He says and you connect the dots after a second. "Wait, wait, wait, so you're telling me-" you say but he cuts you off with a nod.

"Yes, when I participate in sexual activities, such as intercourse, my system will

create sudden bursts of energy. It does not hurt me but I do feel it. It's… pleasuring, so I can produce a human-like orgasm." He laughs once more. His laugh is so sweet. "Wait, so have you ever Masturbated before?" You ask and he nods "Yep, multiple times. Just to feel something, anything really. It's not a required function, it's just something I do to "feel good,"" He answers. You thought it was quite sad that he only did that to feel, but it also made you glad that he could actually do something like that, to take care of himself, his body, like that.

He slowly sits upright on the bed and you frown "What's wrong?" You ask and he shakes his head. "Nothing, I just don't sleep." He says firmly and you forget he's a synthetic for a split second. "Well, what are you going to do all night?" You ask. "I think I might watch that show and make you something in the morning." He smiles and you yawn "I'd like that very much." You smile back, hugging him one last time before laying back down and heading off to sleep.

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