#there’s so much fucking anxiety that I will be attacked for stopping for a moment

[bi-panic-at-the-disco]

it’s be cool if I felt like I enjoyed drawing and doing art for myself instead not liking it and feeling like it’s wrong

[queenpiranhadon]

Can I request bkg and reader getting in a fight so they still share the bed but sleep while facing away from each other. But then reader gets nightmare about him dying and clutches to him. How do you think he would react??

A/N: Sobbing because the manga has me in shambles TY ANON FOR THE REQUESTTT <33 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Mild cursing, you and Katsuki get into a fight, he's a little hot headed but he means well, you both love each other so much, you both are dating, mentions of an anxiety attack, nightmares, angst to comfort, mentions of blood and death, slight spoilers, reader is called princess and baby, f!reader.

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

"Katsuki you can't keep doing this to yourself!"

"Jesus baby, ya know that this is my job, I don't have a choice! I can't just stop savin' people 'cause my girlfriend wants me to."

It went on like that for a while, back and forth, between "You can't just keep coming home like this, it's not healthy!" and "It's my fuckin' job - what the fuck do ya want me to do about it?!" as well as every single variation of the two.

It was exhausting.

You were understandably worried sick about your pro hero boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou, you always had been. You loved him to death, you always would, but your heart simply couldn't take the sight of him coming home bruised and bloodied and on the brink of death.

You believed in him, you really did, but the little voice in the back of your head never seemed to stop asking the one question you wish never had to be asked in the first place.

What if it finally became too much? What if one day, he didn't come home back to you?

The scenarios that voice would create were almost as bad as having to experience it in real life, and Katsuki's blatant disregard for your feelings only made it worse.

To him, you didn't believe in him. Your worries made him feel weak - your worries made it seem like his skills were incompetent, as if he wasn't enough. After all, when you see a hero like All Might on the screen, no one is simply worried for his wellbeing, because they know he'll win.

Why don't you think he can win?

The two of you don't speak to each other for the rest of the night, still sleeping in the same bed but turned away from each other.

And it was hard, trying to fall asleep without the other, so accustomed to falling asleep in each other's arms, but you finally managed to do so.

However, without Katsuki's presence to soothe you in the night, the voice in your head decided to take the reins on your dreams.

Except it was much more worse than that.

You were on a battle field, there was so much happening except there was nothing happening at the same time.

You can't see your hands, or the rest of your body, eerily making you a spectator to the chilling scene around you.

The ground was slate grey, and then it wasn't, crimson blood staining the ground until all you could see was red.

You try to scream, but you can't because you have no body, and consequently, no mouth.

Still you persist, opening an invisible mouth to let out soundless screams in the hope that someone, anyone, can get you out of this soulless empty hellhole.

And then you see him.

It's Katsuki.

He looks fine, unharmed except for the hollow look in his eyes.

Your heart aches and you reach out an invisible hand to do something, to apologize for losing your temper, anything to have him back.

But the moment you blink, Katsuki isn't fine, or unharmed anymore.

Now, there was a gaping hole in his chest, and half of his face was stained the same crimson that was splattered across the ground.

You could only watch in horror as Katsuki's life was sucked out of him, seeping out through the blood that dripped out of his body, staining the ground even further, pooling at his feet.

You scream even more, but nothing comes out. You can't do anything, and the love of your life is bleeding out and you're just standing there.

Shit!

You didn't realize you were crying until you feel two strong hands gently shaking you awake, finding yourself buried in Katsuki's chest, clutching onto his shirt like it was your lifeline. Or in this case, his.

"Princess? I'm here, baby I'm here...everything's okay..." he murmurs, his gruff voice soothing you as he strokes your hair, allowing you to soak his shirt with your tears, not minding it at all.

You look at him, and his heart breaks at the broken look in your eyes.

"Katsuki...?" you whisper, and he looks at your with those piercing vermillion eyes, ridden with guilt.

"Baby, m'so sorry I talked to ya like that.... I'm so stupid, damnit." he whispers angrily, not to you, but to himself.

How had he not realized how bad your anxiety was?

He sighs - he wasn't the focus right now, you were.

He brings a large and gentle hand around, cupping the back of your head and tenderly pressing it against his chest.

"Feel that princess? That my heart, beating for ya. And only for ya, ya hear me?"

You giggle softly, feeling your heart warm. The two of you fall asleep together like that, and the little voice in your head finally gives you a few words of assurance.

Katsuki's okay.

[accioscarheadthings]

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 1

kenji sato x reader

summary: you are professor sato's student and mina contacts you when kenji finds himself with an injured kaiju baby

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

author's note: turning this into a series (?) may not follow the movie's timeline completely. future smut, so minors DNI.

masterlist !

you stood beside professor sato in the tube lift as it descended to kenji's basement.

you fiddled with the ends of your shirt, anxiety beginning to spiral within you by the second.

being at kenji’ house was something you never imagined would happen, especially after your not-so-smart first date. 

like kenji, you also had a legacy to bear, with your father as an expert mechanic, he built a titanium-alloyed suit with sato to fight by his side. and with him gone, you had to take on the mantle and the responsibility of protecting the city.

kenji knew you as his father’s student, slightly bitter that his father was spending time with someone who was not him.

but he couldn’t deny, you were a sight for sore eyes.

he would throw his words at you now and then, relishing in your sarcasm and remarks, falling more and more for your fiery demeanour and silver tongue.

and with you both fighting kaiju attacks together, it only pulled you closer to each other.

the baseball player won a bet against you, asking for just one date with you. 

you were skeptical about it, not wanting to get tangled in his spider web of messy celebrity life. but you couldn’t back off from the bet. a deal was a deal.

the date went surprisingly well, with you and kenji bickering back and forth about the most mundane things, just to get a rise out of the other. but as time went by, the sexual tension was increasing between you two.

you couldn’t deny it, no matter how much he annoyed you with his bratty charm. he was hot. 

the date was supposed to end with him dropping you in your place, but instead, you found yourself in his arms in the back of his car- naked, needy, and moaning his name like a prayer.

after that, he took you into your apartment and fucked you good, mumbling praises and promises as he drilled into you. the next morning, he left before you woke up, leaving a note saying that last night was fun. 

no calls or messages after that. he merely acknowledged your presence after that.and you were thankful for it. a bit.

part of you wished he would reach out and check in on you after that night. but you knew he wouldn’t.

it made you feel used and unwanted. took you quite a while to get over it, but you eventually did. 

you only took care of the fights he didn’t pay mind to. like the kaiju attack he ditched when the kdf intervened.

and now with the doom of meeting him again, your nerves were on end.

“fret not, dear,” professor sato glanced at your tensed state, “it will be alright.”

"professor, um, you still haven't told me why we’re at your son’s place. or what we're gonna do. or why you needed me out of all people-”

"i just need you to trust me on this, dear. you're the only one i do at this moment. can you do that for me?"

"you know i'm big on trust, professor, " i commented, shaking my head.

the lift stopped, and professor smiled, "that i do," 

when the lift doors opened, ultramn’s face was right on, big glowing eyes.

you took a step back with a yelp, “what the-"

"oh my-" ultraman gasped, “y/n… hi,” he seemed to be dazed, breathless.

you nodded nervously, glaring at his metal head and glowing eyes, glad that you didn't have to look at his handsome face, “hi,”

“dad! what is she doing here?” kenji hollered, as if you were invisible.

you glared at him even harder, tilting your head to the side at his tone.

"i apologize for my son," professor told you, "kenji, this is my assistant and she knows best about kaiju infants,"

i added, "because i've studied about them.my entire life. what they eat, their life cycle, the metamorph-"

"okay, okay, got it yeah," he waved you off in a hurry, his voice laced with impatience and worry.

you were about to snap when a pained squeal rang out and you leaned past him to sneak a peak, but ultraman obscured your view.

“dad, i’m not asking for pain, complaints, guilt, or criticism. not right now. i just-” he paused, struggling, “i need your help. both of you,” his head turned to you.

when he moved out of the way, you saw it, a gasp escaping your lips .

a baby kaiju lying on its back in the middle of the room, its head resting on ultraman’s knees while he held it down, rubbing its head. a red beam blinked under its skin, signaling its distress.

"wow," you gaped at the kaiju baby, following after professor sato.

“she was hurt, dad. we were attacked, i don’t know what to do. she got loose. i-i should’ve been there,” kenji rambled, guilt evident as he beat him up for what happened.

professor sato examined her, running a hand over a scales, “incredible,”

i held out my fist, metal plates slipping over your fingers and crawling up your arm till your elbow. you held out a hand, shooting a scanning bean from your fist to examine.

“you brought your warsuit?” ultraman asked in wonder. he knew about your identity and was hoping he’d run into you in one of the fights.

“just in case,” you shrugged, eyes on the anatomy chart you had pulled up in front of you as the holograph blinked on the arm of the kaiju, indicating the site of injury.

meanwhile, professor sato ran a chem analysis of the tranquilizer that had hit her.

"oh, hello mina," you greeted the ai when it floated towards you, “it’s been a long time,”

"indeed," mina responded, "you look well,"

"thanks,"

the kaiju baby whined in pain, squirming. you rested your metal palm on its tummy, easing your way up and down on its body, "shh, hey, hey- it's okay, we're gonna help you, baby, mkay?” you cooed.

the kaiju baby seemed to somewhat calm down at your words, its body still trembling.

“is it a he or she?” you asked, tapping and prodding her arm juncture.

“a she,” mina responded.

"she's beautiful," you looked up at her in awe, “professor, i suppose she has fracture. there’s fluid build-up in her elbow. mina, can u confirm?,”

“yes, she had a mid-humeral fracture with associated hematoma,” mina added.

the kaiju baby cried out again.

“it’s okay, you’re okay,” professor sato uttered softly caressing her arm.

mina was filling in the professor about the analysis of the tranquilizer while you got a closer look at the baby, running your metal hand over her palm.

her fist closed around your hand, the kaiju baby cooing slightly. your heart melted at the action.

“poor thing. does it hurt too much?” you reached to touch her arm where she got hurt, only for her to squeal in alarm.

“it’s okay,” kenji soothed, “she’s-” he stammered, looking at you now fully and taking in your appearance and feeling somewhat flustered, “she’s not gonna hurt you,”

you spared a glance at him, turning away, your face turning red at the mere sound of his voice. pathetic, you scolded yourself.

“can you synthesize a 100 ccs?” professor sato asked mina. 

“yes, professor,”

“good we’ll need more,”

 “more?!” kenji snapped, “for what?”

“kenji,” “you may not agree with me on anything else, but right now, i’m the best chance she has. and with y/n, it will be easier. so please, please just let me help,”

kenji glanced at you, agreeing, “okay,”

professor sato held up a ragged bunny in the air. the kaiju baby beamed at it.

“dad,” kenjis sighed in nostalgia, “bunny?”

“it always worked on you,” he placed it on the baby’s arm. he notched his walking stick between her shouler and arm, making sure it was right. i nodded in approval.

i placed my hand on the kaju baby’s palm, “hold her tight, kenji,”

two mechanical arms appeared from the ground, grabbing onto the baby’s arms.

taking a deep breath, you mumbled along with the lullaby mina played in the back and pushed her dislocated bone into place. kenji turned his head away to the side, unable to watch while the kaiju baby screeched in pain.

you sat by the stairs of the containment unit as the kaiju baby slept in it, snuggling a half-crushed car.

you were watching the footage of the kaiju baby loose in the streets, observing its movement, behaviour—

“hey,”

you slapped your watch shut and looked up at kenji, blinking, “hi,”

your eyes locked for a moment longer adn you both looked away, feeling bashful and flustered. 

you felt him sit on the stair beside you and rest his elbows on his knees, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“so, uh, how are ya?” kenji turned to face you, his hair falling all over his forehead.

you bit back the urge to brush them back, “fine. so how’s life being a single mom with two jobs?” you teased, hoping to ease the tension.

kenji gave a small smile, his chest rumbling with a groan, “exhausting,”

“i can tell,” you noticed the fading dark circles under his eyes, the fatigue in the paleness of his skin.

“watching me that closely, sweetheart?” he tipped his head to the side, leaning forward a bit, his flirty tone showing up.

“you wish,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“it’s good to see you,” kenji spoke genuinely, “after the last time we met turned into-”

“oh dear god-” you sputtered, “don’t just don’t,”

“was it that bad?” he seemed offended that you were shutting out that incident so quickly, “was i that bad?”

“no, no, ken,” i laughed carelessly, missing the way a shy smile crept up kenji’s face at your sound, “its just that,” you tried to find the right words, “it was amazing, but the days after that, not so much. we-”

“-drifted apart,” kenji completed, understanding now.

"yeah,"

“i’ll just,” kenji jabbed his thumb to the couch area and walked towards it, muttering and scolding himself for being so clumsy and flustered around you.

you smiled at his back, watching him sit down. you turned back towards the containment unit, watching the kaiju baby snore away.

you crossed your legs, getting comfortable, "mina?"

"yes?" the ai floated towards you.

"give me everything you have on the kaiju baby. and you might wanna get filled in on the kaiju anatomy and life cycle info i have in my database," you held up your watch for her.

“sure thing,” a mechanical arm took it from you.

"and also, could i get a cup of coffee, with three-,"

a cup was thrust beside your face to hold. 

you looked up and saw kenji holding one for you, having one for himself, “three shots of espresso. just how you like it,”

surprised but touched, you accepted it with a kind nod, watching him walk back to his father.

he relaxed back, leaning into the couch and spreading his legs apart shamelessly, one arm resting on the head of the couch.

you lips parted at the sight.

kenji did a double take and caught you staring, a grin quirking his lips as he did so. it only widened as he saw how you fumbled and turned away from him, finding your reaction adorable.

he couldn't believe how captivating you were, and he knew he was in danger of losing himself to your charm. 

 the way your hair draped over your shoulder, only if he could wrap his fist around them and pull you flush against his back-

“pure thoughts, ken. pure thoughts,” he chided himself, his mind struggling to process the mental image it created.

he silently chastised himself for letting you slip through his fingers last time, but he knew that he couldn't ignore you any longer. 

as he looked at you, he felt his heart skip a beat and he couldn't help but sigh, "sweetheart..." knowing that you were too tempting for him to resist this time.

[piplupcola]

I can't fanthom to explain you in full how much of a significant moment this is in animation

You don't show blood in animated films, it's like almost a taboo thing. You can show characters getting beat up and bruised but never bleeding. It defies all corporate beliefs of making it a "kids movie". Even GDT's Pinocchio which has fucking nazis in it and guns shooting people never showed blood in it. It's just that sacred of a thing in animation that studios never cross.

But Puss in Boots, they showed it. Not only that, you get a fucking close up on it. Do you know how rare that is? The people who made it probably fought every tooth and nail to get this moment approved, because this is unprecedented in this industry. You don't show actual blood bleeding I cant stress how much this is such a nono in this industry.

But for this moment it's perfect, the inevitability of death in Puss in Boot's eyes, the amount of risk the studio took to get this moment in the film approved, shows how much DreamWorks really cares and wants this movie to not just be another haha kids film but for the adults watching it, the people who have seen the world and fear death, those with anxiety, get panic attacks, unsure about life the universe, getting married, being a family. These aren't ideas catered to kids.

Everytime I've seen people be like "oh studios need to stop making boring ass animations and actually make a film about serious topics and have better animation and care about the movie" THIS IS IT FOLKS. A STUDIO LISTENED AND IT'S OUT HERE IN YOUR FACE.

So seriously go watch Puss in Boots. It's incredible and you're missing out on something beautiful if you don't.

[libraryraccoon]

So I got this idea of an Idia Reader who is an overlord (making some high tech prosthetic or another things that Vox himself can’t make easily) and forced to go attend an overlord meeting and imagine the panic attack he would have if Alastor or worse Valentino interacted with them.

Probably locks themselves in a their room for three months after the meeting.

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message of Raccoon : I can just imagine Vox and Idia!Reader being two bestfriends that have rivalry for fun.

Info : Idia!Reader being an overlord in the Vees.

General Headcanon

You were one of the Overlords of the Vees.

But compared to the others, you didn't like the attention.

The recluse of the Vees, that's who you were.

You hated leaving your room, preferring to use your tablet to see/talk with others.

But one day, you were forced to show up at one of the Overlords meetings. Irl.

When you entered the room, all the overlords asked you who you were.

"Who are you ?" -Carmilla.

"The one who almost doxxed all of you. Idia!Reader." -you, already wanting to go back to your room.

It was the first time they saw you, like really saw you. Not through a tablet, but irl.

You sat between Rosie and Alastor, a mistake.

The two kept talking and adding you into the conversation. You wanted to die again.

They were nice and polite, yes, but you didn't like socializing. You preferred solitude and calm to having to socialize.

You regretted having taken this place instead of putting yourself next to Zestial, who is calm and silent.

"Oh ! Did you hear about what Jack did ?" -Rosie.

“No, what did he do ?”-Alastor.

"He fucked his wife's sister, then ate the said sister. His wife found him and then ate Jack." -Idia!Reader.

If there was tea, it would have been perfect.

Carmilla give you a look that can be translated as "Good luck, we're not together."

You will doxx her later as punishment for not helping you.

The meeting was pretty good, except for the moment you had to talk and socialize.

Your social anxiety suffered greatly during this meeting.

When you entered the Vees tower, you wanted to go to your room but the others Vees stopped you.

Valentino and Velvette congratulated you for coming out of your shithole room.

But you know what was the worst ? When Vox saw you, he asked why you had placed yourself next to his enemy, Alastor.

Vox gave you an hour-long lecture on why what you did was wrong.

You just wanted to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of the eternity.

But you couldn't.

Why ? Because Rosie and Alastor have come for you.

Apparently you have become their friends, without your consent.

Once a week you had to go out and spend time with Alastor and/or Rosie.

And you couldn't even run away because the two always know where to find you.

You are gossip friends. I will not accept otherwise.

You have the pass to touch Alastor. You use it to touch his ears because DEER EAR !!

You do the same with his tail, because DEER TAIL !!! (He tries to hide his tail from you)

I headcanon that you have a picture with you, Rosie and Alastor on it.

Let's pretend you were there during the meeting about the angel.

…

Carmilla paid you $3000 (or whatever the money is in hell) for not talking about her killing an angel.

You took the money before telling to Rosie and Alastor everything.

If she ever finds out, you're dead, but don't worry, it was worth it.

I headcanon that your hair (or at least a part of your hair) is made of fire, and that the Vees, Alastor and Rosie want to touch it.

Alastor and Rosie love seeing your hair changing its colors depending on your emotions, it always betrays you and they find it amusing.

Alastor using the Aromantic charm on you to see you get frustrated and see your hair changing its color is canon.

Alastor has already brought you to the Hazbin Hotel..

When I say that you said what you thought out loud and you were brutal with your words, I don't think you realize how much that was-

You were banned from the hotel by Vaggie while Alastor was just watching and laughing.

You felt hurt, betrayed by your friend.

“Oh yeah, that’s how it is now, every man for himself.”

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

doomsday ◦ h.j

—Sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind

@anon im so glad you requested this bc I literally loved writing it so much like it fr had my creative juices FLOWING so feel free to request anytime babes

Paring ◦ Han x reader

Words ◦ 5231

Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this angsty asf

Warnings ◦ han is a dick at the beginning but he is redeemed, panic attacks, language (like fr so many fucks in this its wild), talk about wasting your life, anxiety, fear, han is such a cunt at first its insane, not edited, uhhh I think that's it.

A/N ◦ This one is chaotic asf so if you don't like my chaotic writing this is definitely where you might wanna click off 💀ALSO IF YOU LIKED THIS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME like it literally doesn't have to be much you can just be like it was pretty cool

~CookieCreates🍪

Sometimes it felt like Han gave away the numbers of the clock like dollar bills, bartering off a life that only ever seemed to be rushing away like a river roaring down the rocks too fast. He scoops little moments out from the shimmering rapids, but time still trickles between his fingers; the hours melting together like wax dripping down the spindly hands, its bony fingers-

reaching

reaching

r e a c h i n g

out to him, pulling him into a pool at the bottom of his feet, a pool of glittering, glowing memories.

Is this all life is?

Working

Stressing

Never sleeping

Never eating

Is the praise worth it?

Those hopeless nights, endless days, tired eyes, and a mind made of mush—was it all worth it?

Was any of it worth it?

The roar of the crowds drowning out the sound of the seconds-

tick

tick

ticking away, the shuffle of the sand seeping into the bottom of the hourglass—he taps the crystal dome, wondering how much of it is left—wondering when it all will stop.

When he can stop.

Han was a fizzing bottle of soda—shook for too long—today was hard; every day before a comeback is: producing, singing, dancing, learning, watching, waiting-

Checking off boxes on a list that never ended, so when he finally walks into the door of your shared apartment, a room he feels like he hasn't seen in weeks, he doesn't really notice you anxiously sitting on the couch, your knees bouncing on the floor mindlessly-

snapping

snapping

snapping

on the linoleum, something so simple shouldn't set him off, sure, but the sound was so familiar—so scary—it vibrated in his head, booming in his brain seconds-

ticking

ticking

ticking away

your feet

snapping

snapping

snapping on the ground.

He comes home to get away from the world rushing out from under him, so why were you sitting there being so fucking-

“Hannie!” You beam, sprinting over to throw your arms around his neck, breathing his scent in. It feels like centuries since you've seen him last. You vibrate with nervous, excited energy, practically bouncing up and down; but the thing was, right now he didn't want to be touched.

He didn't want to be held

He didn't want to have to talk

He didn't want to have to remember he had a life outside of the bubble that was his work. It felt like he was tending to gardens he didn't know how to grow. Your relationship had already sprouted; the seed planted a while ago, but even though the delicate stages of its development had passed, that didn't mean that it still didn't have to be cared for, and right now, he didn't care about anything. 

It was selfish, sure, but when you've spent your whole life giving parts of yourself away, selfishness seems so easy, at least while you still have small slivers of your soul left. 

He grates his teeth, everything seeming so wholly overwhelming, the walls encapsulating him in an unbreakable hourglass. He was so stressed, so tired, so done, so trapped. His breath stutters when you squeeze him tighter, nuzzling your nose against his shirt, staring up at him expectantly, eyes shimmering. 

"I haven't hugged you in forever I missed your face" you giggle voice like clouds of cotton candy but not quite sweet enough to dull the sour feeling settling in his stomach

He knows that love should never feel this hard, but right now everything he did felt hard, and the way you stare at him so longingly like you're going to combust if he doesn't perform, put on a fake smile, and act like everything is okay makes him feel like a fizzing bottle of soda with a lid screwed on too tight, and when you grip him tighter, trying to push an answer out of him

He flips his lid. 

"Holy shit, y/n, do you have to be so bombarding?" He snaps, pushing your arms away from him, almost looking disgusted. Your smile slips, staring at him in shock, still not really registering what he said. 

He doesn't know what feels worse—the way your features tremble with hurt or the way he knows he doesn't care. 

"I'm tired; I just want to go to bed, okay, and you are immediately rushing me; every day as soon as I get through the door, it's exhausting."

"You can't be serious," you whisper, genuinely believing what you said. He couldn't be serious. There was no way in hell he really believed that, but it didn't matter if he believed it or not; it all still hurt the same.

He wishes he could overlook the flames that flare in your eyes, consuming the stars that always seemed to shimmer.

What did he just do?

He sighs, collapsing onto the couch, digging the palms of his hands into his drooping eyes. He was so scared; the fear loosing his lips and everybody knows words of fear are the greatest lies. 

"Yes, I'm serious. Do you know how much work you are? I work all day, work, work, work, work everybody needs me always wanting, always needing something, something, fucking something," he growls, smacking his hands against his thighs, thrown into an unexplainable rage. "And as soon as I get home, you need me too; everybody is so fucking needy." The next words he says feel like an earthquake erupted in your soul, splitting your heart in two. 

"Your so fuckin' needy."

You flutter your eyelashes shut, pushing back emotions that boil in your brain. There are so many feelings fighting for the light, but instead of screaming, crying, or lashing out, you take a deep breath and fold your arms, calmly asking 

"Then why don't you just break up with me then?" There is nothing more terrifying than a woman whose fire rages behind a veil of ice, but when he looks up, watching the flames wrap around your posture, wisping around every edge of your bones, and even with the ashes of the love you once had for him fluttering in the wind, he still opens his big, fat, fucking mouth. 

"Or maybe I should have just never asked you out in the first place." No sooner did he spit the sentence out, did he want to shove it right back in his mouth. Your shoulders droop, eyes filling with an almost impossible amount of pain.

The earth crumbles, the walls of your shared home collapsing around you, rubble lost in all the memories that flicker away like embers floating from the burning configuration that was your relationship. It was ironic how the world worked; it took years to build up the love you felt and only a single sentence to wash it all away. You never thought you would see armageddon, but when those letters left his lips, you quickly realized sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind. 

"Okay," you croak, hot tears streaming down your face; a wobbly smile pulls at your lips almost out of habit, facial muscles forced out of memory. 

You have never once imagined yourself drowning under so many words left unsaid, sinking in the waves of tears you fought back, and as you trudged up the stairs, sinking into your bed, you wondered when you would hear the begrudging footsteps—the hesitant knocks. Wondered when you'd hear his soft apology—a voice racked with guilt—but your fantasy never came.

All you heard was the clicking of the clock behind you, counting down the hours where he disappointed you again and again

You don't know what got to you first—the peirce of realization that he didn't regret the bitter insults that left his lips so easily or when you saw the calendar that peaked from the corner of your closet-

5 days

5 days left unmarked

5 days left blank

5 days until you celebrated your 3 year anniversary

Han Jisung would never know you were counting down the days

Han should have runned after you, and in perspective, after a good night's sleep and a nice warm meal, he has never felt so completely stupid for not, but after you trudged up the stairs with a pained smile and glassy eyes, he was so starkly shocked he had said something so disgustingly distasteful his feet stuck to the ground, and finally, after hours of staring at the pool of time bubbling by his shoes, he drifted into a restless sleep. 

It was as though his terror tainted him, making the glassy parts of his heart dirty, and when he took the edge off, it was like a harsh wipe away at all the murk, revealing his jarring reflection in the pearly mirror.

He was such a jerk

He whimpers, running anxious fingers through his hair. He has no viable excuse, no good reason why he treated you so poorly—for someone so obsessed with time, he should know that you can't get your life back—can't turn the hands of the clock 

Push rewind

Hit replay

For what value would life be if you could just start it all over again? The impossibility made all the precious moments sweeter, but like every good thing, it made memories like these all the more foul.

You didn't deserve that

He didn't deserve you

and as you slink down the stairs, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He can't stop that booming voice biting at the back of his brain.

How long will it take you before you realize that too?

You flick your gaze to him, burning with loathing cloaked behind layers of indifference. It floors him—those subtle signs of hatred that swim in the back of your eyelids, hidden in small twitches of your features, your almost tangibly cut off, throwing up your walls, shutting him out in more ways than one.

He had always worried about the gardens he was growing; flowers that sprung around him rapidly, fighting to figure out which one to water first, and all while your petals wilted and your roots curled up-

You waited

You watched as he bled himself dry. He shutters, everything bursting before his eyes—the love you once had for him flickering like the last flashes of a dying star. You're a million miles away, dancing on the craters of the moon, fluttering around the twinkling rings of Saturn. He folds himself deeper into the couch, almost hoping it will swallow him whole—pull him into the burning inferno beneath—even hell would be cooler than the fire that was your gaze.  Han Jisung never thought he'd see the day when the galaxy would collapse, but staring at you, flaring your final goodbyes, he realizes that doomsday was closer than he thought. 

"Baby," he whispers, his voice heavy with guilt, how easy it is to start a fire when you don't care about putting it out, but now that the wisps of flame consume you, he wishes he had never given you the kindling. 

You don't look at him as you walk around the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal. He stands up hesitantly, anguish feeling like an iron rod through his chest. He creeps into the kitchen, stepping lightly into the room like it's laced with landmines. 

"Please." His voice cracks—splits right down the middle, a perfect reflection of the cleave that was his soul. "I'm so sorry."

You place the cereal back in the cabinet and open the fridge to retrieve the milk.

The silence is deafening.

The all too familiar-

tick

tick

tick

of time trickling away rings in his ears

How much more of it does he have left?

How much more of this silence can he take?

You ignore him, strolling right past his trembling frame, racked with regret. It pulsates off his in palpable waves. You're so nonchalant so careless. He almost wants you to turn around and smack him, throw that stupid bowl of cereal in his face. Instead, you jog up the stairs, slamming the door behind you.

Is that the only door you shut?

Han had always thought of the apocalypse as an idea only found in novels, tucked away behind the pages of a book, hidden in the comfortable corner of science fiction, because that's all it was, right— fiction? But as your dead eyes scrape his figure up and down, he realizes that Doomsday wasn't really fiction at all. Just like the world wasn't always a place, sometimes the world was a person, and right now his world was ravaged by a deadly disease, an illness that only infected the soul, an illness only transferred through the careless bitter words found in the English language. Fire was nature's greatest purifier, and sure, the walls of the home he lived in weren't warped with flames of your fury, but the home he had made in your heart was 

It's been 3 days

3 days since he's felt the touch of another human. 

3 days since he made the biggest mistake of his lifetime.

3 days since he dropped a devasting bomb on your relationship, and the shrapnel was finally hitting him; curled pieces of cold metal lodged somewhere in between the folds of his soul. 

3 brutal bone-crushing days of pure ear-splitting silence—It was almost scientifically impossible, just how quiet you were. It was an art really, every brush of anguish accurately painted on—every ignored apology, every piercing glare, every single star that flickered out in your eyes. You were strategic, meticulous, you were plain vicious-

and you had every right to be.

You were fully justified in your actions, and yet he felt like he was still teetering over the edge of madness. The thought of losing you like a noose snaking around his neck, choking him in an unadulterated form of terror 

He has been stricken by anxiety his whole life, but the thought of a world without you filled him with an inexplicable amount of fear—the kind that burrows in your bones, decaying in your soul—the kind of terror that your still stuck digging from your skin for centuries to come—the kind of fear that makes you simply

panic.

His hands shake as he pushes the door open, feeling like he's walking into an open war. The pages of a dystopia form walls around him, caging him inside a bombarding capsule of storming English. 

The harsh contrast of the hurricane in his mind and the indifference in your eyes sends him reeling. You were lying on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels, not sparing him a glance.

You were so beautiful so breathtaking, but for once, he wasn't admiring your beauty.

He was

falling

apart. 

Oh, fuck, he was freaking out. 

He had finally caved under the pressure of always having to perform a false, flimsy smile, wobbling on his lips, pretending to be okay as he watched the life drain out of your eyes; the passion seeping from his songs.

He loved making music, but what is art without chaos?

What is beauty without love?

What is the world without you?

He always had to be perfect; he always had to be put together. He was always running on all cylinders, always hanging on by a fraying straining thread, and finally, it snapped. 

The earth is

t i l t i n g,

flipping around,

turning upside down, and

i n s i d e o u t.

Guilt rips through his chest, yanking out harsh bouts of oxygen from his constricting lungs. 

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

He can't fucking

b

r

e

a

t

h

e

He was going to die-

He was going to collapse into himself, busting into a flaring supernova. 

He was going to be his own demise-

Forming his own doomsday-

He has never thought of himself as an author, but before he could stop his mouth from moving, he was already caged between the sentences of his own personal apocalypse, living a waking nightmare.

He created a story with his stupidity, and now he has to pay the price. 

He was the end of your relationship-

what has he done?

He can't b r e a t h e

"Y-Y/n I can't," he choked on his words, watching the walls wash away like watercolor dripping down the page. 

He can't lose you

He can't lose you

He can't lose you

He's going to die

He stumbles into the living room, tripping over his feet, his breath staggering in his throat. He catches himself on the arm of the couch, digging his nails into the soft leather, gripping it like it was his tether, keeping him from floating into space—burning up in the atmosphere, his body bouncing around the icy rocks. 

"Fuck," he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut and clawing at his chest, almost as if he scratches his skin hard enough, he can finally pull out the hourglass that keeps ticking his time away. His heart pounded wildly, almost begging to be free from the confines of his ribcage. The fact that it was still beating was beyond him. 

His heart only beats for you.

His heart will only ever beat for you.

How was he alive when you were drifting away? moon dust dancing in your lungs, would you become a ruler of the skies, while he was still stood still? 

"Han," your voice sounds like cotton candy kisses and honey dribbles. He never thought he would ever be so happy to hear somebody so alarmed, but right now that was the only thing keeping him from shattering. 

You jump up from the couch, your face pulled in concern. 

He doesn't deserve it

Doesn't deserve it

Doesn't deserve it

He's drowning in a pool of his self-inflicted sorrows. He's sinking, and the only thing that could save him was you. 

How do you save a man who won't take your hand?

"N-No, im okay," he barley pushes the words out, weaving between the thick lump that's forming in his throat. 

It was a lie

Everything was a lie

That's all he was

a liar

"Han," your voice is warm and inviting, sucking him in, wrapping around him like a blanket in the cold, a bowl of soup to a sick stomach. You healed him even when he was the one who created the wound. You pull him in, taking his trembling frame into your arms. Gentle fingers thread through his hair as soft lullabied wispers float through the air.

He feels so safe

So secure-

So loved-

He never thought he would feel the tenderness of your touch again, so when your comforting arms squeeze him right off the edge of destruction, 

He

c o l l a p s e s

crumbling into a million sobbing, sniveling pieces before you, he sinks to the ground, dragging you along with him. 

He always brought you down-

Always took you with him-

He was a disease-

An infection-

He was your armageddon

He sags against your body, limply moving like a rag doll. You let him curl into your chest, holding him like pieces of pierced punctuation. 

You guys were a shattered semicolon inverted and upside down. 

There was so much he wanted to say—so many apologies, so many explanations, so many different synonyms for sorry—but you didn't need them; you never needed them; you needed him, and there was nothing he could ever say that would change that. 

You hum, rubbing soothing circles on his back. You were always the perfect metaphor, a marveling form of pristine poetry. Your touch was like fleeting promises on the skin, the delicate tickle of a blooming flower, the comfortable heat of a burning star. You weren't just his world; you were his universe.

He pulls you closer to him, clinging like a desperate dying animal, nuzzling his face in your neck. 

"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so fucking sorry!" He blubbers the sentences onto your skin, as though the deeper he burrows into your body, the faster they can travel to your heart. 

"Han," you lull, a small smile grazing your face, physically having to claw him off of you. He does begrudgingly, a minuscule whimper tumbling out of his throat from the lack of contact; he doesn't meet your eyes. He can't—not when the clock still ticks your time away, not when he's still not fully sure that you're willing to turn the hands back. 

He's devastated, his eyes red and puffy with tears that cascade down his cheeks, shining in the overhead light. 

"Please don't leave me." He sniffles, rubbing his nose against the fabric of his shirt, bottom lip trembling. "I don't want our time to run out. All my time is running out. Everything is running out. I can't, I-" he stutters, tripping over letters that latch onto his teeth like cactuses digging into his lips. 

You furrow your brows, tilting your head in sympathetic confusion. "What do you mean, baby?"

He screws his eyes shut, his hands shaking almost aggressively on his thighs. Why did he say anything? How does he explain something like that? He tries to form the words on his tongue, but they stick to the roof of his mouth like glue. Speaking it into the universe makes it so much more real, so much more raw, because now it isn't a metaphor, a fictional little whisper that fucks with his mind. 

The earth quivers in its orbit as he opens his mouth-

Was he really going to admit this?

Was he even ready to admit this?

"It feels like my life is running out," he stammers, the words tasting so sour on his tongue. "My life is so stressful; everybody always needs something from me, and sometimes it feels like I'm dishing out so many slivers of my soul that I don't even have any of it left." He lets out a shaky breath, attempting to get his heart rate somewhere that resembles normal. 

"I'm always up, always working, always doing something, and it's scary to think while I'm wasting my life working so hard doing something I don't really love." He aggressively wipes the tear that drops down his cheek with the palm of his hand. "It's so scary wondering if I'm ever making the right decisions." 

He feels so small under your gaze.

"A-And the other day was so hard," he cries, fresh waves of tears blurring his vision as he reminisces on the events. 

"Everybody was yelling at me, always needing something demanding so fucking much; they were playing puppet, forcing my hands in a way they didn't want to move; everybody was so just so needy-"

"And so was I," you whisper, filled with guilt. It breaks him. Your so understanding, so loving, so forgiving, so perfect. 

How did he even get you?

His heart wrenches as he dives into your arms-

"No, no, no, no," he shouts, shaking his head against your shirt. "No, love, you didn't do anything wrong; it was me. Me and my shitty mood—it was all my fault. I blew up at you. You were trying to be the amazing, loving girlfriend you are, and what I said was solely because of my fear. The exhaustion and anger didn't exactly help either"

"But there are no more buts," he pulls away, catching your eyes burning with sincerity. "There is no excuse for the way I treated you; there is no justification, just explanation."

You smile, tilting your head in adoration. You would be lying if you didn't say you were relieved, because you were.  You thought he believed the words he said—what feels like forever ago—that you were the annoying, needy girlfriend that only ever bugged him, but he didn't believe what he said. No, he was just a ticking time bomb waiting to blow—a ball of stressed and nervous energy channeled into the wrong source. 

"It's okay, Hannie, really, we're okay"

He was a supernova—a burning, bursting flame of bright, beautiful colors 

Han had once thought that the stars in your eyes had flickered away, but now he knows even the most enchanting things have to die before they can transform. 

He loves you.

He has loved you for 2 years and 363 days.

He will love you until the world goes up in flames. 

He will love you until the planet bleeds with the wounds of armageddon. 

"Does this mean we can still celebrate our 3-year anniversary?" He asks sheepishly, looking up at you through fluttering eyelashes. You perk up, visibly brightening. 

"You remembered!"

"I never forgot." he smiles, eyes shimmering with hope.

"I've been counting down the days," you grin.

"So have I," but he hasn't been counting down the days until you celebrate 3 beautiful years on this planet together. No, he's been counting down the days until his body slips into the grave, but as he presses his ear to your heart, it feels like the steady beats were a swelling symphony orchestrated just for him. He sighs contently, nuzzling deeper into your chest. The terrifying tick of the clock faded away, drowned out by the song of your soul whispering sweet promises into his ear. Sure, the fear still tickled the back of his brain, but instead of worrying that time was trickling away, he pulls you closer because with you, there was never a wasted moment. 

©CookieCreates (posted: July, 9th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately

~cookie🍪

[simpinformonkies]

Hiiii I love your writing! May I request some MK and Wukong who are their normal selves until the reader gets threatened/hurt/captured/idk and they go absolutely ballistic

DUDE I FUCKING LOVE MK SO MUCH HE'S LIKE MY FAVORITE MAIN CHARACTER NEXT TO LLOYD GARMADON AND AANG... BABY....

I got you bro

WARNING: SEMI-GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF BLOOD AND VIOLENCE! THERE ARE ALSO SPOILERS FOR S4 SPECIAL! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

~~~

WUKONG

-First off, Wukong loves you so fucking much that it physically hurts him sometimes. Not in the 'oh im in pain', but more in the 'heart repeatedly struck by cupid's arrow'.

-Or maybe that just makes him a simp, idk

-Wukong definitely takes you nice but casual places- be it quiet but quality diners, a picnic in his hidden grotto, a field of flowers to relax in (read: a field that he uses so that he can nap on your legs and cuddle you while basking in the sun)- just the whole nine yards, really

-So imagine his indescribable rage when he finds you've been kidnapped, and later follows your scent (he has it memorized by this point, plus he scents you, its obvious that he can find you) to see you getting attacked by demons, your clothes ripped and fresh wounds that drip droplets of crimson to the beautiful flowers and green grass below, staining them red.

-And just like that, Wukong fucking lost it- he flew off the handle so hard that his mind blacked out, and he only 'came too' when the demons were half dead covered in their own blood, his hands and claws stained the very same crimson.

-As soon as Wukong came too, he's checking you over worriedly, careful not to aggravate your wounds further.

-He didn't even notice his glamours dropped until you said something, and before he could even attempt to slip them back on, you cup his cheek and tell him how beautiful he is, both with and without the glamours.

-You even smiled, "Your eyes really do gleam like rubies and gold, huh?"

-Wow, way to catch his heart again, damn.

-...Wukong stops wearing glamours around you, dropping them as soon as the two of you are alone, and he's always cuddling you in some way or form.

-He will not lose you again.

-He refuses too.

~~~

MK / QI XIAOTIAN

-First off, let's get it out of the way that MK is the most loving and sappy boyfriend ever, who is either rizzing you up or being controlled by his anxiety. It depends, really.

-He's always doing the most basic but sappy couple stuff, and despite how cheesy it all is, it's genuinely flattering.

-MK is also incredibly protective of you- he tries not to control you with his protective instincts, and let's you do as you please because you're his beloved, and you deserve to do as you please.

-You're both adults! It's fine! He can handle this!

-He cannot.

-It's post S4 when MK gets notified of a demon causing problems, and goes to take care of it when he sees who the demon has as a hostage.

-You. Chained up, with ripped clothes, deep cuts, and teary eyes.

-Oh, MK fucking loses it.

-He goes full monkey at the drop of a dime, and is scratching and punching the villain (the bastard) that dares hurt his beloved.

-MK is a merciful hero that loves to help!

-But even HE has a limit to his compassion and mercy.

-Once the villain is gone, MK picks you up and just... holds you in his arms, hissing and just staring people down if they come anywhere near you- his tail curled around your leg and puffed, eyes slit and ready to attack at any given moment.

-It takes nearly an hour to get through to him, but when you do, you're treated by Sandy as MK sobs in your lap about not protecting you well enough, while you simple pet his hair gently, careful not to tug or snag on his hair as you stroke it.

-MK... is a lot more protective of you from then on- but he doesn't force himself into your activities. More so watches than anything else.

-If it keeps you safe, he'll do whatever he needs too.

[vivwritesfics]

hiii!!! if you can can you please make a fanfic like (sorry for my bad explaining) basically a fluff fic with oscar piastri and y/n where they meet at like the streets of paris or something romantic like that? (you can give it any ending you want lols)

one of my best friends is from paris and we talk about how it's not the romantic place we all fantasize it to be. but i got you boo

Paris, France:

The hotel was awful, just awful. But that was what she got she got for booking her holiday on a budget.

The bed must have had bedbugs. She saw one review online (after she had checked in) that suggested it. And, ever since, she could feel the little fuckers crawling all over her skin.

If the bathroom wasn't down the hall, she would have been throwing up from anxiety. But, instead, she shut her eyes and tried to fall asleep.

And then her neighbours started shagging. Like, bed hitting the wall behind her kind of shagging. Holy shit, she needed to get out of here.

Grabbing her jacket and placing her valuables into her pockets, she headed out of the hotel.

The streets of Paris were a little bit terrifying in the dark. If one of her friends had just done with her, they could have gotten a nicer hotel and she wouldn't have been terrified to walk the streets in the dark. She shouldn't have been out there, she knew, but it was either have a panic attack on the disgusting floor of the hotel room or get out for some fresh air.

It was like there were eyes on her all the time she was walking. She pulled her jacket closer to her body and walked a little faster. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she pretty much marched down the streets of Paris.

Her body collided with somebody else. "Shit," she cried as this persons arms wrapped around her, stopping her from falling.

"Are you okay?" He asked, voice not accompanied by a French accent. "Sorry, I should have been looking at where I was going." He shook his head, floppy, Prince-Charming-from-Shrek hair falling in front of his face.

"It's okay," she said, tightening her grip on the things in her pocket.

He released her. "I'm Oscar," he said, holding out his hand.

She didn't take it, but she did smile at him. "Nice to meet you, Oscar," she replied, not giving her own name.

It was almost like a game, on the streets of Paris. Oscar twisted his wrist and looked at his watch. "Where are you headed? Do you need me to walk you there?"

The red flag in the back of her head was taking a long ass time to raise. "I'm good," she said, because he was still a stranger on the streets of Paris. She began to walk past him. "It really was nice to meet you, Oscar," she said and began walking again.

Santorini, Greece:

The view from her balcony was so fucking pretty. The glittering ocean, the pale sand, the gorgeous architecture. It was a far cry from Paris.

Even on a budget she'd managed somewhere nice. A lot nicer than that hotel room in Paris. Here she felt safe. She left her valuable things in her hotel room (in the safe) and went out to dinner.

It was so damn peaceful. This was the getaway she needed, not those few nights in Paris. This was fucking bliss.

But then he showed up. She was in a little beach front restaurant, having a drink when he came walking past. What did he say his name was? Oscar? What the hell was he doing in Greece?

Her initial reaction was to think he had been followed. But the way he was looking at her, all confused before that look of familiarity crossed his face, it was all so genuine.

"Are you following me?" He asked it in such a teasing way, she immediately knew he wasn't serious.

She kicked out the chair in front of her. "Come have a drink with me, Oscar."

He obeyed and sat himself in the seat opposite her. Almost immediately a waiter came over to take his drink order. As soon as the waiter was gone, she was staring at him. "So, tell me about yourself, Oscar."

"Aren't you gonna tell me your name?" He asked as she sipped her drink.

She thought about it for a moment. "Tell you what, tell me about yourself, and I'll tell you my name."

He held out his hand, and this time she took it. "Deal."

Italy:

Italy had never been on her list of destinations. She didn't understand why not, because it was gorgeous.

But seeing the sights was such a small part of it. She walked behind Oscar, Oscar Piastri the Formula One driver, as he led her through the paddock.

"This can't be real," she said for the fourteenth time since they'd climbed out of the car.

Oscar laughed at her. "It's real," he assured her as he took her to the McLaren garage. He stopped for a second and gave her a minute to step closer and take his hand.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were a race car driver," she said as she squeezed his hand. It wasn't a comforting squeeze, but it had Oscar laughing, again.

"I did," he insisted.

"Yeah, after we'd had four cocktails!"

He led her through the garage, to his drivers room. "Okay, okay. How can I make it up to you?"

He shut the door behind him and she stepped closer. "Hmm," she said and pushed his hair out of his face. "Take me back to Paris?"

"Paris?"

She hummed.

"Okay," he answered, still holding her hand. "I'll take you back to Paris."

[myfictionaldreams]

Did the reader ever used the safeword with Bucky and Steve? And how did they react/ deal with it?🥺

The Limit // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

A/N: thank you for the request! this has actually been requested quite a few times so I hope you all enjoy!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, threesome, safeword use, rough sex, anal, intense, overstimulation, restraints, blindfolds, punishment, spanking, anxiety attacks, protective steve/bucky, emotional hurt/comfort, aftercare, teasing, begging, subspace, pet names, everyone needs a hug, not beta read

Words: 5.1k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

ღREADERღ

During your intimate moments with Steve and  Bucky, there was nothing more important than communication. If you liked something, let each other know. If you wanted to slow down or pause, just simply say the word yellow or tap your fingers once. If you needed everything to stop immediately, whether it was to reposition or discontinue the action, then you’d say the word red or shake your head.

It was a good system to have, especially during moments when scenes would become more intense or rough, needing to know what the limits of the other are, how the fun could continue or the aftercare to begin. Communicating was key.

For example, on one occasion of using the safe word ‘red’, your wants and needs were more than your body could physically cope with.

You were absolutely and truly fucked, sweat coating your body, eyes dazed, the pupils so wide it gave the appearance that your iris’ were shaded black. You were deep into subspace, no thoughts making coherent sense other than the need to pleasure Steve and Bucky, saying anything the try and get more of them, even if it was pushing yourself over the edge. At that moment though, you didn’t care, having orgasmed so many times that your body was refusing to move of your own accord with how weak your muscles felt but luckily Steve and Bucky were more than happy to move you into whatever position you or they wanted.

Currently, you were bent over the desk in Steve’s at-home office, the sturdy oak rubbing against your stomach with each thrust from Bucky’s cock into your arse as your body writhed and pulsed through its unknown number orgasm. At this point, your mouth was permanently opening with the stream of pornographic moans coming out.

Even though you were completely exhausted and definitely should have had a break, or just completely stopped but all your spacey cock-drunk mind could think of was the fact that Steve and Bucky hadn’t cum yet and you needed for them to fill you up. Their stamina was sometimes the best thing but also the worst, when your desperation to get them to their own orgasms but your body was completely exhausted. Particularly in between your legs, your clit was overly sensitive that every touch had you jolting, and your pussy was puffy from the fucking from both men.

“Want you both at the same time, please…” you groaned, words slurring slightly as you attempted to look over your shoulder to Bucky who stroked a hand down your spine, his hips paused to allow your body to adjust to the orgasm but his cock was still very much deep in your ass.

“Think you can handle us, Doll?” Bucky asked with a soft gaze in his eye, trying to assess if you were actually ok to continue. To his right, Steve was doing the same thing, his hand moving up and down his shaft at a leisurely pace.

There was one thing you were good at and that was begging as you pushed your hips back against his, not really pondering on the discomfort that came with it. “Please daddies, want you both, wanna feel full”.

That seemed to convince them enough that the comfort of the cool wood against your face was replaced with Steve’s shoulder as Bucky had wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you with simplicity due to his inhuman strength. Your back was flush against his chest as Steve pushed against your front, his hands firmly under your knees to help keep you upright as your heavy head lolled onto his muscular shoulder.

“Pleaseeee”, you whined, sounding out of breath with the exhaustion of the rough sex you’d been having.

“I’ve got you baby”, Steve encouraged, his cock brushing against your clit as he tried to position it at your dripping hole. With your face now hiding in the crevice of Steve’s shoulder, neither he nor Bucky could see your visible wince due to the discomfort but still you held on to his blonde hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck.

However, as Steve’s thick cock slipped into your over-used pussy, your low grunt that you made to match the instant tensing of all your muscles, Steve and Bucky’s eyes blazed with concern as they looked at each other over your shoulder.

“Hot Mama, what’s your colour?” Bucky questioned for your safe word, having already half-deciding that if you said green he wouldn’t believe you, blaming the subspace for pushing yourself past the limit of pleasure.

You had felt fuzzy when they’d first picked you up, but now, the discomfort and stinging from between your legs seemed to push some clarity back. Of course, you felt bad that Steve and Bucky still hadn’t cum but you knew it would cause more upset if they continued and caused you any further injury so accepting defeat, shoulders dropping, words now sounding more clear, “red”.

Steve and Bucky both loosened their position so they weren’t so squished against their bodies but still carefully held you up.

“Take a deep breath in and slowly release”, Steve instructed and as you breathed out, both cocks were simultaneously pulled out of your holes and you instantly felt relief. “Good girl, thank you for being honest with us, we’re going to look after you, ok?” Steve’s voice was gentle, as he continued to explain what was going to happen. “I’m going to wrap your legs around my waist and we’re all going to go to the bathroom, whilst Bucky gets you something to drink”.

This was exactly what they did, Steve taking all of your weight, wrapping your legs around his waist and then holding underneath your thighs to keep you upright as your body still felt like it was made of jello. You weren’t sure what to say, only thankful that you could trust these two men that would stop getting their own pleasure, so you kissed his neck softly, showing that you appreciated him. Steve’s grip tightened around you as he began walking out of the office and to the en-suit bathroom in your bedroom.

“Shower or bath?” he asked, mumbling the question against your temple, kissing the hairline even though you were still sheeted in sweat.

You contemplated for a moment, scrapping your fingers through his hair and decided that you wanted to be weightless and have just a moment to sit back and process everything. “A bath please”.

Steve filled the excessively large bathtub with hot, soapy water, knowing you all needed the heat to help relax the exserted muscles. Still holding you, he settled down, into the water, releasing a deep moan that vibrated against your chest as his grip on your thighs relaxed as you both were submerged.

His touch however didn’t end as he instead wrapped both of his arms around your back, holding you close to his front still. You felt safe in the embrace and the heat of the water soaking into your body, soothing the ache in your muscles and stinging between your legs.

A tap on your head alerted you to Bucky’s arrival as he crouched next to you, holding out a glass of orange juice with a reassuring smile. “Drink up mama, let’s start building up that energy, I’ve got some snacks on the bed as well”. Gently, Bucky tilted the glass to your mouth, helping you to drink the sugary drink that instantly quenched the thirst you didn’t realise you felt but also made you feel slightly more energised as you snuggled back against Steve.

The water lapped against the sides as Bucky climbed into the spacious bath, sliding in close to your side and kissing your bare shoulder, hand stroking over your upper back and with the sheer size of both of your boyfriend’s hands, the entire span of your back was not covered by Steve and Bucky.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Bucky asked in between kisses along your skin. You nodded in response, pushing up off of Steve’s chest, testing your own strengths, surprising yourself when you were actually able to sit back fully on his thighs, noting the soft cock that now floated between your bodies in the soapy water. A pang of guilt settled in the pit of your stomach as you now looked between both boyfriends.

Steve tilted your chin with a single finger, making you look into his crystal-blue eyes, “I don’t like that look you’ve got, I’m glad you used your safe word, it’s the reason we’ve got them and Buck and I don’t need to cum to have a good time, do you understand that?”

“Yeah, I do”, you responded honestly.

“Good. Do you want to explain to us what happened?”

The three of you talked through everything, discussing what could be done differently next time like saying yellow and having a break or not trying to do every single sexual act possible in one evening. You even cheekily blamed their stamina for being too strong which earned a hearty laugh from them both before cuddling back onto Steve’s chest for a couple more minutes.

“Let’s get out of here honey”, Steve decided, beginning to shift to stand.

Your legs were still incredibly unsteady so you held on desperately to Steve as Bucky dried you with a fresh, warm towel, being careful over tender areas before helping to slip an oversized shirt over your head.

“Come here!”, you squealed as Bucky enthusiastically picked you up bridal style, kissing your cheek as your arms settled around his waist. It always felt odd when you were the one semi-clothed and your boyfriends were in the nude, usually, it was the other way around but you enjoyed it nonetheless, even though you’d been getting fucked by both of them not that long ago, you still admired their beautifully structured bodies.

“Eyes up, baby”, Steve joked from where he walked behind you, drying himself as he walked, purposelessly flexing his arms so the muscles bulged, and you bite your lip to hide your grin.

Bucky gently lay you in the centre of the bed, next to the collection of randomly selected snacks that ranged from sweets and chocolate to fresh fruits. The brunette slide in closely beside you, reaching around the begin rooting through the snacks before feeding you a couple of raspberries.

It was a peaceful end to the day and the complete opposite of how you thought it would be. The way they both tended to your needs meant that you were lost in a fuzzy headspace and even though your body would undoubtedly ache in the morning, you were just glad that you were with two men that always put your needs above their own and made you feel safe.

ღBUCKYღ

The safe word wasn’t just for you though and there had been occasions where Bucky had to use it as well.

You were 10 spanks into a punishment, thrown haphazardly over Steve’s meaty thighs, your body completely nude and arse cheeks raw to the touch from Steve’s palm. You were thoroughly enjoying the roughness but Bucky on the other hand thought Steve was going too rough, ignoring your pleasured moans and sopping wet cunt to show your signs of arousal.

Internally, Bucky was panicking from where he watched in a chair opposite Steve. His fists were clenched painfully, not that he could send the pain from his metal arm but the gears creaked from how tightly he was tightening his hand. Bucky never enjoyed it when Steve was super rough with you, even though you were adamant that you enjoyed it, Bucky hated to see the pain that came with the pleasure. You were his sweet Doll, you deserved the best and he always thought it was counterproductive to do harsh punishments. This was also why it was Bucky’s job during these moments to make sure to say if things went too far as sometimes you would slip into a headspace that wouldn’t care for your safety and let Steve continue until you passed out, and this, they definitely didn’t want.

Most of the time, Bucky was fine watching, allowing Steve to do any of the rougher sides of things during sex but today, there was something that didn’t settle right within Bucky. Without processing what he was doing, he moved off of his chair and squatted down next to your face from where it stared at the floor. As soon as you felt his cool metal palm stroke your cheek, you reached to hold onto the wrist, keeping him there.

Steve’s hand continued to lay spanks against your arse, each one you gasped and then thanked him for it as per your punishment rules and if you forget, then he starts again.

Bucky wiped away the tears that always seemed to fall during these moments, “are you ok, mama?” he asks under his breath.

“Yeah”, you say with a quiver in your voice, another tear sliding down your cheek. Bucky looked up at Steve with uncertainty in his eyes, unsure whether you were actually fine to continue or it was just Bucky who was feeling anxious and unnerved. Steve raised a single perfect eyebrow, questioning Bucky’s look and this was where you sensed the silent conversation that was happening. “Please sir, I can handle it, I’m ok”, you reassured Steve to continue with a simple shake of your hips.

Steve glanced at Bucky one more time before continuing. Three more strikes later and you released a different sort of whine one that gave Bucky pure panic that rocked his core, not being able to hear it sounded like you were in pain as he suddenly shouted, “RED!”

Steve immediately stopped, his eyes filling with panic as he helped to lay you on the bed, careful of your sore arse but he needed to see your face. “Baby? Are you ok? Talk to me”, Steve encouraged as he stood over you.

Blinking back tears, your body was trembling with adrenaline but you were clearly confused by the sudden stop to the punishment, disorientated as you didn’t say to stop. “Im…I’m ok, I didn’t need to stop, m’fine”, you mumbled, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Steve frowned, even though you were confused, he could clearly see she wasn’t at any point to stop, not showing any visible signs of being in significant pain or distress. Confused he turned to Bucky who had stood, breathing heavily like he’d just been for a run, his eyes wild and darting between his friend and you.

“I thought she- she sounded like she was in pain I… I didn’t-.. I couldn’t-”, Bucky hastily rubbed a hand over his face, struggling to fill his lungs with air as his panic continued to escalate. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the confusion of hearing you whimpering in pain or the realisation that he’d stopped something you were clearly enjoying or the disappointment that Steve was bound to feel for stopping a scene early, or just a mixture of everything.

In his panic, he didn’t see Steve standing to his full height, his face calm and understanding as he approached Bucky with his hands outstretched, “Bucky, calm down, she’s ok, she’s not hurt”, the mafia leader tried to calm his second in command, sensing the edge of composure that Bucky had was close to slipping.

“Yeah…yeah she’s ok…” Bucky repeated, trying to almost convince himself but it wasn’t much use as he was close to a panic attack, something he hadn’t experienced since his time in the war with Steve many years ago.

“Bucky?” it was you now to notice the distress of your boyfriend. Even though you still continued to feel confused, your own anxiety was beginning to creep up with seeing Bucky’s panic. With a weak attempt, you tried to reach for him, your hands still visibly trembling from the comedown of the punishment, your eyes now filling with tears as you didn’t manage to grasp onto Bucky.

“I’m- I’m sorry I just-”, Bucky turned away, running his hands over his trimmed hair, trying to get some composure, seeing you actually becoming distressed with seeing him like this. From your position on the bed, you watched Steve stand in front of his friend, so he was facing in your direction, his expression concerned as he placed a strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Steve leaned in close to Bucky, talking seriously but in a hushed tone “Buck listen to me, she’s fine, take a breath for me, she’s alright”.

You wanted nothing more than to be with Bucky and make sure that he was ok, rarely ever seeing him like this. Forcefully, you tried to shake your body from head to toe, attempting to snap out of the confused state you were in, your boyfriend needed you, so you needed to get a hold of yourself. With great effort and a heavy grunt, you rolled onto your side, swinging your legs in front of you to try and stand on them.

However, they were still very unsteady and you weren’t able to push off of the bed. Steve noticed over Bucky’s shoulder what you were attempting to do and quickly rushed forward to stop you from falling, “Baby be careful, we still need to do aftercare, stay on the bed”.

“But I need Bucky”, your voice wobbled as you looked at Steve with sadness and fear.

Hearing you say that seemed to snap Bucky out of his feared trance and he was kneeling in front of you in a couple of steps, but you still noticed the way he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, “I’m here Doll, I’ve got you”.

Finally having him close, you tried to wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning close to hug him but it ended up being more than he was holding your body up but he was more than happy to do that. Repositioning the two of you, Bucky effortlessly manoeuvred your body into his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, being careful of your sore arse cheeks as he positioned your legs on either side of his hips in a straddle.

Neither of you says anything as you continue to build more strength and hold onto his shoulders firmer, face nuzzling into his neck, trying to reassure him that you were ok. Your fingers still held a slight tremble but you stroked circled onto the back of his head, making sure you were feeling more aware before you began to speak, “I’m ok James”.

The use of had his sagging, the tension running from his body as Steve returned from the kitchen, carrying two glasses of water forcing you and Bucky to finish them. All three of you sat in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, allowing for the tension that had been thick in the air to disappear as you and Bucky regained composure.

It was Bucky who spoke first, wishing to explain himself even though this was unnecessary, “I’m sorry, I think you were in pain and I just couldn’t bare to listen to it-”.

You cut him off by leaning back, looking into his eyes with a sad smile, “It’s ok, you don’t have to explain anything, I’m sorry I distressed you so much Bucky”. Leaning forward, you closed the gap between your mouths, kissing him softly and letting him just feel you for a moment, helping his tense posture to relax further.

Steve sat beside his friend, returning his comfortable hand to his shoulder. “Sometimes we can all get a little lost in the moment but that’s why we have the safe words, it’s for all of us, to protect us, that’s what this relationship is about. I’m sorry it ever got to this point Bucky”.

“I know, thank you, both of you”, he sounded relieved and significantly more calm as he kissed your bare shoulder.

Steve nods, passing an affectionate hand on the back of Bucky’s head before standing, returning from the bathroom with the salve for your burning arsecheeks, asking with a questioning eyebrow, “Would you like to do it or shall I?”

Bucky contemplated for a moment, thinking it would be nice to be able to soothe your sore cheeks but he was also enjoying the embrace and decided he’d much prefer to stay like that, “You can do it, Steve, I want to stay right here”, his arms tightening around your body as your nuzzled in closer to him.

From the position you were being held in with straddling Bucky’s lap, it still meant that Steve could massage the salve into your cheeks and you tried not to wince at the touch but then the salve instantly soothed your hot skin.

As he finished, he looked up at Bucky who was watching his movements carefully, “You know, we didn’t manage to finish the scene - not the punishment, that’s finished, but she wasn’t given the reward and I don’t want her to go through a subdrop tomorrow, what do you say Bucky? Want to reward her for being such a good girl”.

Steve already knew the answer from the way Bucky’s eyes darkened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed harshly. There was nothing Bucky wanted more than to hear your sweet moans, especially after the panic of hearing you in pain, he wanted to make you feel good, “I would love nothing more than to do that”. You smiled against Bucky’s neck, looking forward to what was to come, planning your own reward to Bucky.

ღSTEVEღ

Steve held a significant amount of authority in his life, being the leader of his mafia gang, making all of the decisions to benefit others or take away their lives. So often in your relationship, you always joked about being in control for once and even attempted it on a few occasions by handcuffing Steve’s hands to the bed.

However, with his strength, he was easily able to snap out of them and regain control of the situation. It was Bucky who had the bright idea of using his strength that matched Steve’s to hold him down. This led to the current situation of Steve sitting in his office chair that was positioned in the middle of the room and his hands behind his back where Bucky held them with his metal hand.

All three of you were completely nude and you watched excitedly as Steve’s cock throbbed against his abdomen, desperate to be touched.

“Are you ready?”, you asked with giddy excitement, not bothering to hide your grin as you held the blindfold in your hand.

“More than ever, baby”, Steve responded with just as much enthusiasm, eyes taking in every inch of your naked body, trying to see as much as he could before he was blindfolded. With a seductive swing of your hips, you stepped forward in between Steve’s man-spread legs and placed the eyemask over his head, making sure it was secure and there weren’t any gaps that he could see out of. Steve was plunged into darkness, his arms flexing momentarily to check to hold Bucky had on him, only to find that it was very firm, there was no way he was getting out of it.

Grinning at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder, you began by placing a simple kiss on Steve’s lips, feeling him try and press firmer but you pulled back before he could try and gain control.

You thoroughly teased Steve for a bit, nipping and kissing the column of his neck before straddling one of his thighs, rolling your bare core against him so he could feel your arousal, watching his cock throb at the touch. It was exhilarating to see him in such a state and even though you never liked to really be in control of these moments, much preferring to be submissive, it was thrilling to hear the desperate groans of the most dangerous leader in all of Brooklyn, as you touched him everywhere except his cock.

Steve was both enjoying the dynamic and also finding it hard to adjust to not being able to see or touch your body with his hands. He always liked seeing you had a little bit more dominance but to take away his control completely was a different step he’d never taken before.

“Want to see you”, he admits, mouth hanging open to release a heavy breath as you stroked a firm line down his abs, once again skipping over his member. You don’t say anything but Bucky watches as you grinned, his own cock throbbing painfully hard as seeing the way you were teasing his friend.

“Please baby, I wanna see you”, Steve repeats, now realising just how much he missed your pretty face. You continue to not say anything, thinking that it added to the tension, especially as a bead of precum dripped from the tip.

The next part of your plan involved one of your favourite vibrators planning on holding it against Steve’s cock but as you stood to retrieve it, from the way you’d been straddling his thigh for so long, your legs felt slightly unsteady as you stumbled and accidentally stubbed your toe on the metal table leg.

You automatically squealed in pain, quickly smacking a hand to your mouth to stop any further yellow, looking back at Bucky with wide eyes as you tried not to laugh and cry from the pain at the same time. Of course, you still managed to be clumsy in such a sexual moment like you were currently in, silently thankful that Steve hadn’t seen otherwise he’d be teasing you endlessly.

Bucky was trying not to laugh as well, biting his lip as held in his chuckle, not noticing the way that Steve had tensed.

“Baby?” the restrained man asked, turning his head, not that he could see you. Your silent laughter to him sounded almost like you were crying with his heightened hearing, “Are you ok? What’s happening?”

You were still hobbling on one foot, massaging the pained toe with one hand whilst covering your mouth with the other hand, keeping in your increasing laughter. Because you were so distracted with easing the pain in your toe, you hadn’t noticed Steve going on high alert, spine straight, his arm muscles bulging from attempts to pull free of Bucky’s unbreakable grip.

It was only as he began to verbalise his panic, did you realise something was wrong, “Let go of me! RED!” Steve shouted with desperation causing both yours and Bucky’s hearts to hammer in your chests. Bucky immediately let go and Steve was instantly pulling off his mask as you rushed to limp over, arms reaching out to him.

“Are you ok? What’s wrong?” your hands cupped his distressed face, eyes wide with panic as he looked you over, seeing not life-threatening injuries before pulling you into his lap, forehead resting against your chest as you held him to you.

Steve doesn’t say anything immediately, just simply held you close as he tried to process what had just happened. Bucky walked around the chair, squatting down so he was eye level with the two of you as he asked, “Steve? What’s going on?”

Your fingers stroked gently through his hair, hoping that the touch was helping to calm him. “I’m sorry Steve, did we take it too far?”. You thought maybe it was the lack of control that had him panicking.

Steve’s voice was muffled as he spoke against your skin, “It… it wasn’t the control I didn’t like, I just couldn’t see you, I couldn’t get out... If someone came in, if someone came to get you I couldn’t get to you-”

He began to struggle with controlling his breathing again so you quietly shushed into his ear, holding him closer and realised that it wasn’t the lack of control with sex that he didn’t like. It was because he thought you were hurt and he couldn’t get to you and assumed the worst. You immediately felt guilty having caused him such distress.

“I’m always safe when you’re around Steve, I’m sorry I scared you”. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he finally pulled back to look into your eyes, taking a deep breath that filled his lungs completely before releasing it.

But then he notices something out of the corner of his eye, the panic returning once more as he stated, “You’re bleeding”.

You glanced down to where he was looking and finally noticed that where you’d walked into the table, you’d formed a small cut that had bled only a few drops of blood.

“Shit”, you say under your breath, looking back into his worried face as Bucky instantly held onto your foot, his metal hand helping to cool the hot skin. “I stumbled when I stood up and hit my toe on the metal legs of the table, it’s just me being clumsy that’s all, I’m not seriously hurt”.

Steve sighed, now understanding the noise he’d heard, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder as you nuzzled into his hair, holding him close. After a few minutes of him calming down, you asked, “Everything ok?”

The man in your arms leaned back, looking ashamed now as he began to speak, “Sorry for killing the mood-”, your hand was fast to cover his lips, cutting off his words.

“Nope, I’m not having that”, you say simply, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah man, we want you to enjoy times like this, remember? You always remind us that these words are there for a reason, if you feel unsafe then you have to use them no matter what”.

“It’s not my safety I was worried about”, Steve responded honestly whilst looking up at you.

Leaning forward, you kissed each of his cheeks gently, seeing his eyes close at the touch before you kissed his lips, trying to show how much you appreciated him with the touch. Leaning your forehead against his, you affectionately joked, “Always my knight in shining armour”.

Bucky stood beside you, catching both of your attention as he light heartened decided the next steps, “Let’s get dressed, get some take out and go home”. Gently he patted Steve’s shoulder and rubbed your back before walking over to the dumped clothes from earlier.

What you hadn’t been expecting was Steve standing suddenly with you in his arms still, “You can put me down!” you’re laughing as you say this, holding tightly onto his neck.

Steve finally smiled, “Not with your foot injury”, he jokes but you knew it was more than that with the way he was stroking your skin with his thumb and the intense gaze with which he looked at you. You knew he needed to feel you closer, even with the immediate danger having been explained to him, he needs to just make sure that you were safe.

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 12: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 3)

Summary: Soap thinks that taking a walk through the woods is just what you need to help you get over your new fear. Your walk isn’t as pleasant as you hope it’ll be.

Word Count: 5,176

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, angst, strong language, panic attack, arguing

A/N: I didn’t know if this would be ready or not to be posted on time, but I managed to get it done! Please enjoy loves!!

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Bitter Allies • Part 12

This was such a bad idea. Why the hell did you agree to this? The hike was most certainly not helping you overcome your anxieties; it was making them worse. You thought being cornered in the outhouse and standing in the open field was bad, but try walking through thick foliage where you can’t see your surroundings. Your poor heart is doing double-time in your chest, pounding so hard it feels like it might burst.

Soap, oblivious to your mounting dread, is making so much noise as he plows through the brush that you can’t even listen for any potential threats. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sends a jolt of panic through you. The fear in the pit of your stomach is growing stronger with each step. The oppressive canopy above blocks out most of the sunlight, not that it would help to ease your nerves if it didn’t. However, it does make it feel as though the forest is closing in on you, suffocating you with its dense undergrowth and unseen dangers.

About five to ten minutes into the hike, you desperately want to turn back. By now you’ve gone at least a mile, but the feeling is the same. Nothing has happened yet—you haven’t even run into any animals—but that doesn’t help to quell the anxiety flooding your system. It feels like you’re just waiting for something terrible to happen. Just waiting for another bear to catch your scent and come after you.

Like it had that morning you went out by yourself…

A shiver runs along your spine as you recall the feeling of being chased. The heavy, thudding footsteps behind you, the growl that sent you sprinting for your life. That had been your warning, your sign of the dangers waiting in the woods, and you hadn’t listened. Maybe the fear gripping you now was also a warning, screaming at you to head back before it was too late. Your hands tremble slightly, and you clench them into fists to stop them from shaking.

“Holding up back there States?”

You glance up, your teeth releasing their hold on your lip as you meet Soap’s eyes. He’s been walking ahead of you this entire time, leading the way and stomping down the brush for you. You’ve been mostly silent since you left the cabin. The only communication you’ve had since you left are moments like this where he’s just checking to make sure you’re still following him and not completely breaking down.

“Yep, just peachy.” You tell him, the answer seeming to be enough to satisfy him for the next few minutes. He turns forward again and keeps on going.

As you continue trudging through the forest, your mind races with what-ifs. What if a bear does come? What if you can’t handle it? What if this hike is just a terrible mistake? You should just go back now… give up and-

No.

You were not going to just give up and quit. That stubborn, won’t quit attitude had gotten you through a lot during your time in the military. It was the very thing that kept you in the Task Force despite how much of an ass Soap was.

You can do this… you can push through it.

“Hey Soap,” you start, hoping that talking might help distract you. The only problem is, you don’t know exactly what to talk about. “Uh… do you know where we’re going?” You settle on.

“Course.” Soap answers easily, not even so much as glancing over his shoulder at you. “I know of a few bear caves around here that we can-“

“Are you fucking serious?!” You shout at him, stopping immediately in your tracks. The thought of walking to the den of a bear, practically handing yourself over on a silver platter, is enough to make you want to ditch Soap and bolt. He can’t be serious.

At your outburst, Soap instantly turns around, his eyes locking onto yours. He sees the panic glazing over your eyes and immediately raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, his expression shifting from confusion to concern in a heartbeat.

“I’m kidding! Just joking! Fucking hell, States. I don’t know of any bear caves around here.” Soap's quickly says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

“Don’t fucking do that! My God, you’re going to give me a fucking heart attack!” You shout, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger, fists clenched at your sides. You were stressed enough as it was, you didn’t need him saying shit that was only going to add to that stress.

Soap gives you an exasperated look, his mouth hanging open just a bit. “Fuck’s sake! It was a joke! Lighten up!” He snaps back, his initial confusion giving way to irritation.

“It’s not funny!” You retort, your own anger only growing the more defensive he gets.

“Oh come on. Anyone else would have taken that as a joke.” Soap's tone turns sharper, his frustration evident as he glares at you.

You’re steaming now, fists clenched at your sides. The fear that had been bubbling under the surface is now mixed with a growing anger. Your heart is pounding, not just from the anxiety of being out in the woods, but from the frustration of dealing with Soap’s insensitivity. You already felt vulnerable and on edge, you don’t want to have to deal with Soap being a total ass as well.

“Really? Forgive me for not wanting to laugh about walking into the home of the animal that almost took my life. I’m already freaking out about seeing one out here, so what makes you think I’d find that funny? This isn’t a joke to me, and I don’t want to joke about it.”

Soap rolls his eyes right back at you. “We haven’t even seen anything yet. You’re working yourself up over nothing.“

“Nothing?” You snap back. “It’s not nothing to me!”

“Well, it needs to be,” Soap retorts, his tone firm. “The 141 doesn’t get hung up over stuff like this.”

You feel another surge of anger rush through you at his words. “Easy for you to say! You weren’t the one with a bear practically on top of you, trying to claw and bite your face off.”

“And you think I haven’t faced things just as bad, if not worse?” Soap counters, stepping closer and invading your space. “I can tell you this, States. I have faced much worse than something like a bear! If you’re this freaked out over a little joke, maybe you should reconsider if you’re cut out for the military.”

His words cut deep, reopening old wounds. From the beginning, Soap has always been trying to get you kicked off the Task Force. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s told you that you should quit. Hell, he’d even told Price to get rid of you while you were in the room with him.

You stare at him for a long moment, disbelief mingling with hurt. “Is making me quit all you ever think about?”

Soap’s expression hardens. “Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t keep proving to me that you should.”

You bite your cheek harshly. “If my fear of a bear that nearly killed me is a reason enough that I should quit, then what about your fear of thunder? Shouldn’t freaking out over that mean you should quit too?”

Your words are met with a confused expression from Soap. It’s like he doesn’t remember having a full blown panic attack the day it stormed.

“What?” He finally says after a moment of not being able to figure out where you got that idea from. “The fuck you talking about? I don’t have a fear of thunder.”

You roll your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. “What do you mean? Yes you do. You don’t remember that big storm that rolled in like the first or second day we were here? It was thundering so loudly, and you had an episode. How can you not remember that?”

Soap is silent another moment while he thinks back. He opens his mouth to reply, but then shuts it, his face shifting as he figures out what you were referring to. However to you, it looks like he realized his argument was flawed and is now trying to come up with some kind of excuse. He couldn’t tell you to get over his irrational fear if he had an irrational fear himself.

“I-I’m not scared of thunder. That’s not what I was…” He trails off, further adding to your suspicion.

“Really? If you’re not scared of thunder, then why the hell were you freaking out like that?”

Soap is silent for a moment, his eyes distant. You think for a moment he’s trying really hard to come up with an excuse, but when you really look, his eyes look slightly glazed over and there’s a pinch of worry between his brow. It’s almost like he’s actively reliving something. His thoughts are racing, though with what, you aren’t sure. The silence stretches on and almost begins to get uncomfortable. You’re about to say something, but Soap finally speaks up.

“It wasn’t the thunder…” He finally says, his voice tight. “Just... let it go, alright?”

You scoff at him. “Let it go? So you can give me shit about being scared of a bear, but you can have some irrational fear yourself, and it’s just fine? You’re allowed to be scared and have stuff freak you out but I can’t?”

Soap instantly snaps back, his voice firm and defensive. You’ve hit a sore spot.

“What happened that night it stormed was different! Alright!? What happened to me is nothing like what happened to you and that bear. I actually got fucking hurt! All that bear did was fucking growl at you and threaten you, I took fucking glass to the face.”

He points at his face, specifically more towards his chin than any other area. Your glare dips down to where he’s pointing, naturally locking on to the now faded, but still visible scar that runs along his chin.

You follow the thick, long scar that runs in a jagged horizontal line below his lip. It was his most noticeable scar and one that you’d always been curious as to how he got it. Apparently there was quite the story to go along with it. You always imaged he’d got it from some kind of explosion to the face, though he didn’t sport any burn scars that would support that theory. It was far too complex to be from a knife, but a shard of glass made perfect sense.

He must have been tortured. Maybe at some point in his career, he’d been a POW and gotten tortured for information. You did not put it past the enemy to go to any means necessary to get information. Using broken glass off the ground to slice someone up for military secrets was quite a common tactic too. Soap’s files didn’t say anything about him ever being taken hostage though. Then again, it could have been something that had been redacted. A lot of the things in his files regarding missions were heavily redacted.

You don’t focus too heavily on his comment about the broken glass though. That was something you could table for a little later. Right now you’re far too upset that he’s completely dismissing your own fears just because he’s seen worse.

“So would my fear be more valid then if I had gotten hurt? Almost getting hurt isn’t enough to justify having a fear of something? Whatever the fuck happened to you, it would have been absolutely nothing if your precious face hadn’t gotten cut up?”

Soap tenses up, his voice dropping a few octaves and taking on a dangerous drawl. His entire body goes rigid, and his fists clench as his sides. “States, you have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, so I suggest you shut the hell up.”

He’s probably right. You have no idea the kind of things he’s been through, so you shouldn’t be making assumptions without knowing the full story. But you’re so angry with him right now that you can’t bring yourself to care.

“And you have no idea how I feel, so you can shut up too!” You shout back at him, and his eyes ignite with anger. You can practically see the spark before it flares up, and you’re sure he can see the same thing happening in yours.

His inhales sharply through his mouth prepared to absolutely lay into you, but before he can, you notice his eyes flicker away from yours for a moment. They quickly snap back to you, but then look away once again, his mouth slowly closing. At first, you don't think much of it, but then the hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand up. Your body senses danger before your mind can process it.

The anger drains from you in an instant, replaced by a growing unease as you try to understand why Soap isn’t looking at you anymore and why you suddenly feel so on edge. Then Soap says the most panic inducing words, his voice dropping to an unnaturally calm level after the shouting he’d been doing not a second prior.

“States, listen to me, do not panic.“

You feel yourself instantly freeze. Usually when someone tells you not to panic it’s because there’s a reason you should be. The nagging feeling of danger intensifies, your hands almost feeling numb from the rush of sudden adrenaline.

“What? Why?” You ask softly, mouth quickly going dry.

“Don’t turn around, don’t freak out.” He tells you carefully, eyes staying mostly locked off somewhere behind you now. “Just walk over to me, lass.”

“Is it a bear?” You ask bluntly, feeling your whole back tense up. You want so so badly for him to say no. You wouldn’t care if he was joking. You wouldn’t even care if it was any other animal, just not a bear. Not right now.

“Yes, it is. Just stay calm.” He reaches out to grab your arm, but you move it away from him, hugging it to your chest instead.

“No… no please…” Tears start to blur your vision. “Tell me you’re joking. Please. This is a joke, right?” You feel yourself starting to shake. You so desperately want him to be kidding. “I swear to God if there isn’t a bear, I’m going to kill you.”

“I swear to you, I’m being serious, lass.” He insists.

You want to call his bluff, convinced for a moment that he's just being an asshole and there really isn't a bear. But then you hear it—the sound of something big moving slowly and deliberately. Each step is measured and heavy, rustling the foliage on the forest floor. You hear a snorting sound, similar to the one that the bear at the lake had made as it sniffed the air. Your heart skips a beat as the reality sinks in: there really is something behind you.

You feel the panic set in, your body simultaneously hot and cold. Adrenaline surges through your veins, making your hands both numb and hypersensitive. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can hear the blood as it rushes through your ears. Your breathing starts to quicken, shallow bursts as your mind races. Every muscle in your body tenses, poised for action, wanting to bolt and create distance between you and the thing behind you, but also frozen in fear.

“States…” Soap says, almost in warning. He’s trying to watch you while also trying to keep an eye on the animal behind you. “Please, just walk over to me.”

You want to do as he says, but first you just need to see for yourself. You need to know there really is something behind you.

“Don’t.” Soap warns, almost like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You don’t listen though. Gathering any remnants of courage you had left, you take a deep breath and start to slowly peak over your shoulder. And there, a few feet away, is a black bear. You don’t give yourself proper time to really look at it. The second your peripheral vision spots it, your terrified gaze snaps back to Soap.

Your eyes lock onto Soap's, breathing picking up now that it’s been confirmed. You want to scream and cry out, but you’re too scared to even do that. “Soap…” You sob, making him just reach out for you instead of continuing to wait for you to come to him.

He grabs ahold of your arm firmly, gently and slowly pulling you close to him. “Shh, it’s alright, come here.” He says as he moves an arm to wrap around you. It’s surprisingly comforting to feel him holding you. Your bickering, all the things that were said, are momentarily forgotten.

“Just stay clam, it’s gonna be ok.” He mutters to you, and you nod, more out of instinct than understanding. You’re a bit more focused on listening for the bear than you are to Soap’s words.

You try to sneak another look at the animal, only really wanting a quick glance, but Soap takes that opportunity to turn you fully so that you’re facing it. His hands settle on your hips to keep you in place, and your breath hitches as your eyes land on the bear. On instinct, you press back firmly into Soap, his chest acting as a solid wall to keep your from moving any further.

“I’m right here.” Soap reminds you, whispering softly into your ear. “Not gonna let anything happen to you.” He promises, thumbs brushing softly against your hips, though you can hardly focus on that right now. Still, his presence alone is grounding. Feeling him behind you, him holding you tightly, it reminds you that you’re not alone.

Facing the bear now, you can finally take in the scene before you. The bear is a few yards away, its black fur glistening in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. It’s a smaller bear, not as large as the one that attacked you, but the sight of it still sends a jolt of fear through you. Its eyes are fixed on you, nostrils flaring as it sniffs the air. The memory of the bear in the lake doing the same thing before it approached you flashes through your mind.

Your heart pounds faster, and you feel your breathing stutter. For a moment, you're back there, alone and vulnerable, with the bear bearing down on you. Stalking towards you, about to strike.

Then you feel Soap give your hips a squeeze, and his voice cuts through the haze of fear. “It’s okay, States. It’s just passing by. It’s more scared of us. It doesn’t want anything to do with us.”

His voice brings you back to the present, and you shake your head a bit to focus on what’s happening right now. “Look at it,” he whispers softly in your ear. “It’s just curious. It’s not here to hurt us. Not all bears are aggressive.”

The bear takes a tentative step forward, then pauses, its ears twitching. You tense the second it moves, and Soap’s arm around you tightens slightly, a subtle reassurance. “Stay calm. It’s going to move on. Just keep breathing.”

The bear snorts, shaking its head before taking another step. You can tell that its muscles are tense under its fur. It takes a few more steps, its eyes never leaving yours as it slowly moves. A deep growl rumbles in its chest, and you are tempted to take a step back, but you can’t with Soap standing directly behind you.

“Don’t back away.” He tells you gently, able to feel the muscles in your back twitch against his chest. “If it starts to come this way, wave your arms above your head and shout at it. Just like I showed you.”

“I don’t think I can.” You whisper back to him. Your mouth is so dry, and it feels like your throat has completely sealed itself off. Even talking was a challenge, and your voice already sounded weaker and slightly hoarse.

“You can, States. You can do this.” He encourages you.

The bear takes a few more steps, still just trying to move perpendicularly past you, but it stops once more to huff softly. When you don’t react to it, it takes a small steps towards you, its head lowered cautiously, but eyes still fixed on you.

“It’s not being aggressive, it’s just curious. Just tell it to go away. Nice and firm.” Soap whispers to you.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather any bit bravery you had. “Go away.” You say, voice a bit wobbly, but still managing to be firm.

The bear hesitates, lifting its head a bit as you speak to it. Its glossy eyes keep locked on you, and it starts to sniff the air once more. Speaking just seemed to make it more curious. It takes another step forward, and you feel Soap’s grip tighten again.

“Alright, it’s getting too curious now. Gotten show it you’re not something to mess with. Get loud now, wave your arms and yell. Make yourself big.” Soap instructs, his voice steady. He’s not panicked at all, or at least he’s not showing it. “Do it now, States. Nice and loud.”

You take a deep breath, trying your best to push down all the anxiety eating away at your courage. Drawing on every ounce of strength you can muster, you raise your arms above your head and yell.

“Ahh!! Go away! Get out of here!”

The bear stops, taken aback by your sudden outburst. It jolts back, retreating a few feet away before stopping and looking back at you. Its ears are standing straight up, its eyes widen in surprise. You can see its hesitation, its uncertainty.

“Good, again!” Soap encourages softly from behind you.

“Go! Get out of here! Go away!” You shout again, making it jump again. This time, it turns and bolts, clearly not wanting to mess with you.

You watch as it crashes through the foliage, moving quickly to get away from you and Soap. Your arms stay raised while you watch it run off, only becoming heavy and dropping once the sounds of the leaves rustling fade into the distance. Your eyes stayed locked on the path it took, froze in shock for few seconds.

When it finally registers that it’s gone, you can feel your entire body become suddenly exhausted. You let out all the air in your lungs and sink back. You probably would have fallen to the ground if Soap hadn’t been behind you. He instantly wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to him.

“Oh fuck...” You curse, making Soap laugh. “It-It’s gone, right?” You ask hesitantly. It was like your brain hadn’t fully processed what happened yet.

“Yes, it’s gone. You did it, States! It’s not gonna be coming back, you scared it.” He chuckles, his tone becoming light and filled with genuine joy. It felt like he was proud of you, excited that you’d been able to scare the animal off.

“Holy shit...” You curse again, still trying to wrap your head around it. And when it finally sinks in, you feel a rush of relief wash over you. Your body starts to tremble, not from fear, but from the overwhelming realization that you did it. You managed to scare off a bear. It’s a mix of pride, disbelief, and a strange sense of empowerment. You did it. You really did it.

“I did it...” You mutter, smiling as your shoulders behind to feel lighter.

“Hell yeah you did!” Soap laughs from behind you, giving you a squeeze. “You did fucking great! You just stood your ground against a bear!”

“Yeah! I… I….”

The intensity of the moment finally catches up to you. All the fear, the tension, and the adrenaline suddenly give way to a flood of emotions. You feel a lump form in your throat, and your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes. The relief is so overwhelming, it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you can't hold back any longer.

You begin to cry, tears streaming down your face as you let out any remaining pent-up emotions. It’s relief, and stress, and joy, and shock, and pride. It feels good to let it all out, your body shaking as it releases everything through your tears.

Soap’s laughter quickly fades when he hears your sobs. He pauses for a second and then quickly turns you around to face him, concern etched across his face. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asks, his voice soft and full of worry.

You try to speak, but it just comes out as a jumbled mess. The words catch in your throat, choked by the intensity of your emotions. You want to let him know you’re fine, but you just can’t get the words to come out. The more you struggle to speak, the more worried and confused he looks.

“Fucking hell, States, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Soap whispers, rubbing your arms soothingly. “You’re safe now. You did it. You faced your fear. The thing ran off.”

You nod at him, that being the only way you know how to communicate. Finally though, you manage to settle enough get a few words out. “I’m fin-e… j-just hap-py...” You choke out. “I-I feel b-better.”

Soap has to strain a bit to hear what you were saying, but he gathers just enough to make out what you said. It makes his shoulder relax and the worry lines in his face soften. He lets out a relieved sigh, hands dropping from your arms so they can run through his hair.

“Steaming Jesus. Thought you were going insane or something. Shite. I never know what it means when you start balling.”

You start to calm down, laughing a little at the poor man’s distress. Taking a few deep breaths, you steady your breathing and wipe at your eyes to dry them. “I mean I very well might be.” You giggle softly. “I’ve been hanging around you for five days, that would drive anyone insane.”

Soap scoffs at you, but there’s a smile on his face that he can’t hide. “You sound like Ghost.”

“Well, good to know it’s not just me who thinks that.”

“Oh shut your mouth.” Soap grumbles, giving you a light shove and making you laugh again. “That what I get for helping you? Should have just let the bear eat you if that’s the case.” He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as if he’s pouting at your teasing. “I am only kidding of course too, yeah?” He adds, making your laughter fade.

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh, feeling a little guilty now about earlier. Soap had always been the guy on the team to make jokes and lighten the mood when things got too serious. That’s all he’d been trying to do earlier, and you snapped at him for it.

In your defense, you had been horribly stressed out, but that didn’t give you permission to lash out at Soap. He’d only been trying to help you this whole time, both last night and this morning. Of course that didn’t excuse him from lashing out at you in return, but you could understand why he did. You would have done the same thing if you were him.

“Hey, I… I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. When you made the joke about the bear caves. I was just really stressed out, and I feel a little bad now. I know you’re just trying to help and… well I appreciate it.”

Soap blinks at you in surprise. He looks shocked that you’re apologizing, though to be fair, normally you didn’t go around saying sorry to each other. That was something that only started happening recently.

“Oh, you know it’s… it’s whatever, really.” He stammers, clearly taken aback. “I shouldn’t have said the things I said either. So I’m sorry too.”

You smile at him, watching as he rubs at the back of his neck. You can feel your heart softening just a bit for him. “Thank you for that, Soap.”

Soap gives you an awkward smile back, nodding his head a bit. Neither of you are great with apologies. It feels unnatural for both of you, and it’s quickly starting to get a bit awkward.

“Well… Should we head back? Or did you want to go explore a bear cave?” You try to joke, which earns a laugh from Soap.

“I think I’ve had enough of bears for a good while, so I think I’ll pass.” He smirks, able to look back at you now. “But hey, if you wanna go though, by all means don’t let me hold you back.”

You giggle softly, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m alright. I think I’d rather just go back to the boring ol’cabin. I’m getting hungry anyway.”

“You hungry now?” He questions. “I packed us both a lunch since I didn’t know how long we’d be out here. And I know this really nice spot where we can stop and eat.” He says, which surprises you. Not that he’d packed a lunch—you were aware of that. What surprises you is that he’s suggesting you both go out and eat instead of going back.

“Really?” Ask before you can stop yourself. It makes Soap pause, his expression shifting just a bit.

“I mean unless you don’t want to. We can just head back if you’d rather do that.”

“No! No, I think eating out here would be fun. I haven’t been able to do too much exploring, and I could use a break from just hanging around the cabin all day.” You quickly say before he can change his mind. “Lead the way.”

Soap watches you for a moment, almost like he’s trying to figure out if you really wanted to go or not. He makes up his mind in a second and starts back the way you came. “Alright, follow me. We’re only about five minutes away at most.” He says, and you quickly rush to fall into step beside him.

A comfortable silence falls between you like it had before, though this time as you follow him, the tension and fear from earlier are gone. All your anxiety has seemingly melted away. The natural sounds of the forest no longer bother you, and even the thought of running into another bear isn’t as terrifying as it was when you first left. It’s a relief to be able to walk around without feeling the need to constantly be on alert. You just hope it stays that way.

[cod-dump]

For the teen!Ghost au, has there ever been a time where Price hasn’t come home? A mission gone badly and he gets injured? Maybe Nik has to handle the fort for a little while on his own because Price is trapped in the hospital?

(Also Roach is a precious bby)

———

John getting hurt bad enough he had to go straight to the hospital. He was unconscious or just unable to call home to tell Nik or the kids that he won’t be coming home that night. So Kate has to call, and she didn’t know enough to know that John would be fine after a minor surgery to correct whatever injury he obtained.

She calls Nik and tells him that John was in the hospital after a mission with south, and that she doesn’t know much about the situation or his condition. It was enough to make Nik’s blood run cold and him to be near hysterics. But Nik’s a professional and he was able to keep a mask up and keep the truth from the kids.

But they knew something was wrong. Dad wasn’t home when he was supposed to be, they hadn’t heard anything from him and Nik was being too quiet. The fact he wasn’t acting worried made them worry.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s held up at work. He’s not sure when he’ll be home.”

Nik never felt so much anxiety before, especially in the comfort of his own home. All it took was a phone call and now he felt so out of control. The hospital where John was hadn’t been disclosed with him, Kate hasn’t called and gave him any updates. For all he knew John was dead. And there wasn’t nothing he could do but stay home and care for the kids and animals.

There was nothing else he could do.

Simon and Kyle were not handling this well. Of course they knew something was wrong. They’ve always been anxious boys, and now their dad was missing. Farah was harder to read but Nik could tell this was affecting her as well. She was worried, scared. She was good at hiding how she felt, but he could see her fidget and watch her phone, waiting for a phone call from John.

They were all torn up about this, terrified of what the next call will bring. Nik couldn’t sleep for those two days of silence. He just laid in bed or just rested on the couch, hoping the front door would open and John would come in. He couldn’t speak on the subject with the kids, and he knew that made everything worse.

Kate finally stopped by when the boys were at school and Farah was at work. Nik had to do everything he could to keep himself calm when she walked up the driveway and to their door. He was expecting the worst, he was expecting having to tell the kids the worst thing he could imagine. Having to handle paperwork to become the boys’ legal guardian. Fuck- Pull strings to make it where they stayed with him if that wasn’t possible.

He was expecting the worst and it showed. And Kate blinked when she noticed the stress practically radiating off of him.

“God- He’s fine, Nik.”

Nik felt relief flood him, tears wanting to spill. Then he yelled.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”

“Don’t you dare yell at me! This has been the most hellish week of my life! I’ve been having to clean up John’s mess and practically live at my office, not having a moment without someone calling me- Are you crying?”

He did start crying. And Kate had him sit down and coached him through what had to be his first panic attack in years. And once he was calm she was able to explain everything that had happened and where John had been. Both him and Kate had been practically isolated after their intel went sour.

John, having been the most hands on in it, was put through debriefings, meetings, and picked apart by his superiors the moment he came out of surgery. He wasn’t allowed to call anyone until SAS was sure he had nothing to do with everything going wrong at once.

“He’s coming home tonight. He asked me to check on you before I headed home.”

Nik felt stress and relief flow intertwined, his heart pulling every which way. John was coming home, and he wanted to strangle him for making him worry. He didn’t strangle him when he saw him get dropped off. Nik instead swung the front door open before he even made it onto the porch and grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug. John squawked when he was grabbed but didn’t fight him, just slumped against him, exhausted.

“Missed ya, too,” he had muttered against his shoulder. John could have easily fallen asleep right there, in Nik’s arms.

He wouldn’t get a chance to, however. Once Riley started barking, the house came alive and John wouldn’t know peace for the next few weeks. A small price to pay for the worry he had put his family through.

[acryingpisces]

ARMS OF COMFORT

PAIRING: john b x gf!reader

WARNINGS: anxiety attack, cursing, making out, mostly fluff

»»———–➤

You hated this feeling. When the anxious thoughts kick in and the room starts to spin. You’d do anything to silence the negative voices in your head. You want nothing more than to keep your head above water and prevent yourself from going to that all too familiar, dark place in the corner of your mind.

John B had never seen you like this. In the 4 months you’d been dating you had managed to keep up the ‘miss perfect’ act. As far as he was concerned, you were his dream girlfriend. He had no clue what a mess you could be. Were you willing to drop the mask? To show him another side of you?

It seemed too vulnerable to let John B know what you were going through. You rolled over in bed, facing away from him, using a pillow to muffle your cries. You silently sobbed into it while your unaware boyfriend snored softly next to you.

After a good 3 minutes of crying, the sound of a whisper made you freeze in place and immediately stop your tears.

“Baby?”

Fuck. You were caught. He had heard you. Your heart began to race at the thought of turning to face John B with a tear soaked face. How would you explain it?

“Are y- are you crying? Y/n, look at me.”

Fear had turned you to stone, and you found it impossible to move despite your boyfriend’s request.

John B placed a gentle hand on your back, nudging you to turn around. Somehow you worked up the courage to actually face him. You rolled over. Immediately you noticed an expression of intense worry on his face as he took notice of your red and puffy eyes.

“No, no, no- baby come here. What happened? Hey, you’re alright okay? I’ve got you.”

He wrapped you in his strong arms and laid your head on his bare chest. You could hear the beat of his heart. His woodsy masculine scent, the warmth of his body heat, and his sweet words provided you with a sense of calm. As he rocked you back and forth you felt your anxiety slowly wash away.

“Deep breaths y/n. Breathe in and out with me. Can you do that?”

You matched the pace of his breathing.

“Good job, you’re doing so good for me y/n.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you managed to choke out through your tears.

“Shhh don’t say that,” he shushed you. “Don’t ever be afraid or feel like you have to hide from me. I’m here for you,” John B cooed.

He could tell you weren’t in the right state of mind to do much talking. “You don’t have to say anything. We can talk about what’s going on later. For now just let me hold you.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Overwhelmed with emotion and adoration for your boyfriend you found yourself pressing your lips to his. It turned from a soft kiss to a passionate one pretty quickly. Your hands gripped his hair as he began sucking on your bottom lip. Your tongues danced together as you softly moaned into his mouth. When you finally pulled away to catch your breath you found yourself staring deep into his eyes. You had never told him you loved him before, but now felt like the right moment.

“I love you, John B.”

“I love you more, y/n. God, I love you so much. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He had seen you at your worst and he still loved you. There was no more reason to be afraid. You finally felt as though you could relax. He later went to the kitchen to bring you your favorite snacks and you spent the rest of the night holding each other close as possible, watching movies on the television. You fell asleep to the sound of the TV and the rise and fall of your boyfriend’s chest as he breathed.

[your-gf-lucy]

calm in chaos

this idea has been stuck in my head for a while so i decided to write it out also i think this is such a cute idea. everyone thank @m3ntallyunstable34 for telling me to write this i srsly would not have otherwise. also im unaware of the differences between panic attacks and anxiety attacks but I used to have panic attacks as a child bc of traumatic stuff so idk

pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader

warnings: panic attacks, angst (ish), fluff, hurt comfort, not proof read, my writing lol and that's about it

summary: you get reminded of some not so pleasant memories and the one person you never expected to even know of your existence helps you get through it.

call me crazy but i really like this one 🤭🤭

The attack wasn't a pleasant memory. Well, of course it wasn't. It fucked you up so bad that there wasn't a day that went by where you didn't see his face in your nightmares. He who almost killed you. He who lied to you. He who was called Voldemort.

Sure, being reminded of it always ruined your day, but the extremity of what happened today because of that memory fucked you up even more.

You were sitting down in the library doing your work until it had gotten dark. Your friends had left the library to go to their respective house parties. You couldn't be bothered to go what with all the assignments you had piled up that you had to work on. You were alone and it was quiet. Everything was alright. You were exhausted so you started to pack away. Everything was alright. You got up to walk to your dorm. Everything was alright.

And then it just wasn't.

You closed your eyes for a brief second and then you saw his face. And just like that all the concealed emotions were revealed.

Your body was racked with fear and the more you tried not to think about it, the more vivid the memories became. You tried to control them, tried to keep your emotions at bay but eventually, you stopped trying to fight it.

Your breathing became unsteady. Now was the worst possible time for a panic attack. All your friends were at parties and you had no one to help distract you.

Fuck.

You didn't have much time. You rushed up the stairs to the astronomy tower desperate for the slightest hint of fresh air. You stumbled into the astronomy tower just in time. Your breath was heavy, it was getting really hard to breathe.

Your body started shaking. The frozen air didn't help the shivering.

Fuck.

You really needed a friend, or even just a simple, pleasant distraction. You tried to breathe in, tried to calm yourself down but nothing seemed to help. You were going to give up.

You knew the panic attack would win. You knew he would win.

And just as you were about to give up, you felt a hand on yours.

"Hey, you okay?" you heard a voice from your left side. Turning to your left, you saw a tall body towering over you. Theodore Nott.

You knew him. Everyone knew him. Everyone wanted him. He didn't seem like the type of person to give anyone attention. Especially not you.

Yet here he was, your knight in shining armour. Talking to you. Looking at you. Caring for you.

It had been a long time since you had felt like someone cared for you. You had friends, sure, but you were never really close with them. You knew they'd leave you dead if it set them apart. You never felt as close to them as you felt with Theo at this moment. You'd never talked to him, but he was attractive and even you couldn't deny that..

You weren't even sure if he knew your name.

"Are you having a panic attack?" He repeated.

"Yeah, yeah- i- sorry- h-how do you know?" You said in between short breaths. You didn't want to be so vulnerable around him. You figured he'd make fun of you with his friends.

"Well you not being able to breathe is definitely a sign." Theo chuckled.

"Oh yeah, i guess" you smiled slightly.

"Okay, who's your least favourite professor?" Theo asked.

What? You were having a panic attack and he was concerned who your least favourite professor was? priorities

"Oh erm it's got to be umbridge." You replied.

"Oh my, that woman is a nightmare. Why do you hate her so much?" Theo continued.

"She's annoying. She likes to believe she's in power. That she's the best. But in reality, she's a stuck-up, irritating try-hard who is only a teacher so she can shout at children." You replied.

"Oh, I couldn't agree with you more," Theo replied. "Feeling better?"

You seemed to have been so occupied in insulting your defence against the dark arts teacher you seemed to have forgotten about your panic attack. Your breathing was now much more steady and your body didn't seem to shake as much.

He extended his hand to grasp yours, but before he could, you pressed yourself against his frame, embracing him tightly. Your body was racked with sobs. He was shocked at your response but quickly regained his composure and pulled you in even tighter.

"Shh" he whispered in your ear. "You'll be okay"

It was mostly quiet except for when he whispered comforting affirmations in your ear.

After a couple of minutes of you staying like this, your body completely stopped shaking and you felt stronger like it wasn't just you against the world anymore. It felt like you had someone who cared about you. Someone who was there for you. Someone who listened to you.

"Thank you. Really. I'm sure i would've passed out if it weren't for you." You smiled at him.

"It's alright." He replied.

"How did you know all this?" you asked

"What do you mean?" he questioned looking at you quizzically.

"You knew what to do when i had the panic attack. How?" you repeated.

"I have them. My mum taught me how to deal with them before she erm." Theo explained stopping abruptly at the end.

"Oh wow erm sorry"

"No you're good." He replied.

"Well thanks again, I owe you one." You said.

"No problem y/n." He replied.

He knew your name.

Theodore Fucking Nott knew your name.

[mystra-midnight]

Language of Lust

summary: a botched hunt means that you need a refresher in latin thankfully sam is there to help.

warnings: mentions of a panic attack. forced orgasm. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. anal sex. unprotected sex. squirting. creampie.

words: 3.2k

notes: so a while ago i saw a post about being dommed in another language. and honestly it unlocked a kink i never knew i had. that post spawned this idea. please ignore the latin translations if they aren’t correct as i used google to translate. :)

In the days following the botched demon hunt, the atmosphere within the base had become tense, and that meant the three of you had been at each other's throats. It hadn’t mattered how many times you’d apologized or promised to do better next time, how much pie you’d bought for Dean, or that you’d cooked Sam's favorite meal twice; nothing had fixed it.

In truth, you all needed some space.

You most of all.

That panic attack came out of nowhere and left you completely shaken. Even a week later, you were hyperfocused on the details of it—the way the walls of the room had shuddered and groaned as you spoke the ritual words, making dust and old cobwebs fall around you. When you thought about it, your heart would race so fast and slam against your breastbone so hard that you could have sworn it started to crack.

The ringing in your ears had been a deafening crescendo, and your eyes had been a waterfall of tears even when Sam had knelt in front of you and pulled you into his chest. You remembered the sound of his voice and the beating of his heart as he whispered to you soothingly until the tears finally stopped.

You still didn't remember much about what had actually happened, but you knew that the demon had gotten away, and you knew that Dean was pissed and Sam was disappointed. Neither of them needed to say it out loud.

So for the past few days, you've busied yourself with whatever task you could find to take your mind off the entire situation. Dean had very much done the same; you hadn’t seen him since this morning, when he’d come back to grab a few things and then left again.

You knew that Sam was somewhere in the base; you’d seen him in passing a few times, but the two of you hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other.

Normally, that would have upset you. You hated fighting with the boys, but you were feeling better and in a relatively good mood today.

You sigh as you step into the kitchen after showering to wash the sweat and anxiety from your skin. Your hair is still damp, and you're dressed in one of Dean's old shirts and a tight pair of bicycle shorts. Sam entered soon after, dressed just as casually. He looked entirely undisturbed by the events of the past few days.

"Hey," you say in passing, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey yourself," he answers with a smile. For a moment, there was silence between you, but even that was short-lived. "You got the words wrong, you know," Sam says, leaning a hip against the door frame while he stares at you with arms crossed. He didn't sound angry, but it wasn't like he needed to say it; you knew you'd gotten them wrong.

Your head snaps around to stare at him, eyes narrowing at the fucking audacity he spoke with. Was that really what he wanted to say? "Yeah," you answer, your expression souring and your mouth in a tight-lipped scowl. "I figured that out from the silent treatment." You shrug your shoulders, trying not to let the hurt bleed into your voice as you turn away and busy yourself straightening a piece of paper on the table.

"Silent treatment?" He asks, pushing off the wall to come towards you. "No one is giving you the silent treatment."

"Sure you’re not," you scoff in response.

"We’re not."

"Then where is Dean? He’s running off doing his own thing because he’s pissed off at me for ruining the hunt, and it’s been two days since you said this much to me, Sam." You huff, clearly annoyed, as you cross your arms and glare at him. "No one learns from the silent treatment, Sam. Sure, I messed up. I know I did, and I’ll learn from that. The two of you don’t need to be assholes about it. But whatever, live and let live."

He walks briskly towards you, and you step back, not in fear but because the raw emotions in his eyes stun you—lust and dominance mingling beautifully in the depths of his iridescent orbs. Sam doesn't stop when you back away; instead, he walks until the small of your back is pressed against the edge of the table, and then he cages you between his arms, palms pressed flat against the table top.

"S - Sam?" You stutter when his lips pull into a smooth smirk. One of his hands grabs you by the hip, his fingertips biting into your skin just a little bit too much, and he pulls you against him, painting his body firmly against yours.

And then he’s kissing you, and you kiss him, and whatever anger was on your tongue dies.

Sam does not waste time and pushes his hand into your bicycle shorts, the material so tight that it fits you like a second skin. He wants desperately to rip it down your legs and feast on your pussy, but he shows remarkable restraint.

"If you wanted more lessons," he says between heated kisses that muffle your little gasps when he starts to rub his fingers against your clit. "You just needed to ask, sweetheart." His other hand grasps your jaw hard with his thumb and forefinger, pushing into your cheeks so that you were pouting when he kissed you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You have the notion to argue with him but are silenced when he pushes a finger through your folds, which are slick with desire and anticipation. You grab at his arm when he prods your entrance, making your knees weak. "Sam, I—" you start but are silenced by the stare in his eyes.

"In Latin." 

"Sam?"

"In Latin." He says it again, this time with more force, his words accompanied by a second finger being pushed into your tight hole, drawing a wanton moan from your lips. You’re not sure where this behaviour is coming from. Sam had never so much as hinted at liking you, but in truth, you weren’t one to complain—not when he was knuckles deep in your cunt.

Your fingers curl tightly around the edge of the table, nails scratching at the underside, knuckles white under the pressure. You tilt your head back beneath his wandering mouth, enjoying the warmth of his body hovering over yours and how he pulls your shirt up to expose your tits.

Sam trails hot, wet kisses down your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse. He sucks a hickey on your collarbone until a purple-blue bruise forms beneath his lips. The entire time he’s pumping his fingers into your cunt. Lewd, wet squelching fills the room because you’re that fucking wet.

He forces your legs further apart with his knee so that you're perched on the edge of the table, feet dangling in the air. His mouth moves to your chest, his lips closing around your nipple and sucking hard so that it pops from his mouth with an obscene sound and stands hard atop your tit. And then he takes the other one into his mouth, flicking and twirling his tongue so that you had to fist a hand in his hair.

He whispers something that you can’t make out. His mouth is like fire on your skin, leaving little flames of arousal licking through your veins. And then his fingers hit that spongy part of your pussy that has you hurtling towards a climax instead of slowly building to it.

You can’t help the way your nails dig into his shoulders when you cling to him when your thighs tremble. You cling to him when the storm comes out of nowhere, sweeping you away on a cloud of bliss that has you throwing your head back. He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, fresh waves of arousal against the tips, and then he’s kissing you again, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit to keep the aftershocks of climax trembling through you.

His mouth is hot, stealing the air from your lungs until they are burning, but you don’t mind because you're still coming down from your high.

The next thing you know, it’s been an hour, and Sam has managed to make you cum three more times, twice with his fingers buried knuckle deep in your pussy, scissoring them to send you teetering over the edge of oblivion. And then once more, with his mouth on your pussy, lips encircling around your clit and sucking so hard that all you could do was repeat his name like a heaven’s prayer.

You’re done, but he wasn’t, not by a long shot.

Sam spread you out on your back, laying you out like a feast, your skin flushed and tits heaving with heavy breaths. You feel the rough pad of his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, which is slightly swollen and much too sensitive, and you claw at his wrist to push him away. Sam just smiles at you and pins both your wrists to the mattress with one of his large hands.

"It’s too much," you whine, trying to pull away and wiggle your hips away from his fingers, but you’re trapped. And you love it as much as you hate it. Sam growls softly between his teeth, his thumb prodding through your slick folds and getting nice and wet before drifting lower to push against your asshole. Your breath hitches at the sensation, and your mind spins as he pushes his thumb inside, giving a few shallow thrusts to tease you.

"Hic tam arctus es, infans," he says, his voice heavy with lust and muffled against your heaving tits. His breath is hot against your skin, his teeth scrape over your racing heartbeat, and his tongue leaves your skin inflamed and glistening. There is a knot twisting through your belly, slowly pulling tighter as his thumb pushes in and out of your tight hole.

"Ubi vis me?" His words are lost in the haze of euphoria he’s trapped you in, as meaningless as the world around you has become. You were a slave to the sensations he embodied, desperately moving your hips to take him deeper. "Hic?"

"Sam," you whine, your voice straining as you struggle in his grasp. You need him; you need to feel your pussy stretching around his big, hard cock. You need to feel him buried inside you, fucking you into oblivion.

"Hic?" He says it again, twisting his thumb in a way that has you throwing your head back and bucking your hips desperately. You can feel him smiling against your tit as he mouths it, his teeth tugging at your nipple until your back arches.

Your breath comes quicker, little pants, when he pulls his thumb from your clenching asshole, the feeling exquisite and leaving you desperate for more despite the live wires of overstimulation snaking through your veins. Sam lets go of your wrists long enough to pull one of your legs up, laying the back of your thigh up his torso so that your knee is bent over his shoulder, and then he shackles them again, trapping you beneath him.

You move restlessly when you feel his thumb against your asshole again, except this time it's not his thumb, and your eyes go wide, a whimper falling from your parted lips. You weren’t a virgin, not at all, but this would be the first time you’d ever taken something so big in your ass.

There was no mistaking that Sam Winchester was a behemoth of a man. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and strong—Hercules reborn. Everything about him is big. His hands, his feet, his thighs, and his cock. Everything about him is solid, cut from marble; he is beautiful. His cock makes your asshole sting beautifully as he pushes the mushroom head in.

Inch by glorious inch, he pushed forward, the prominent vein on the underside of his cock dragging along your stretched hole. "Jesus, tam stricta es," he breathes against your neck, but you still don’t understand. He’s slow, letting you get used to the feeling of his cock splitting you open with short, shallow thrusts, making you moan wantonly.

He loves the little things that you do, the simple things; the pleasure that sears through him as he stretches your tightest hole; the way you’re moaning like a whore, rocking your hips desperately against his, grinding against him. He starts moving with more urgency, drawing back so that only the head of his cock is fitted snugly inside, and then he’s thrusting back in with one stroke, hitting deep, leaving you throwing your head from side to side.

Your thighs quiver, and your toes curl. Sam fucks into you at a merciless pace, stretching you out and filling you completely, and the feeling of it is beyond words. It is beautiful and exquisite—pure euphoric bliss. It makes your pussy creamy with desire, so much so that your slick drips down your crack to mingle with his thrusts. That knot in your belly pulls tighter while your clit throbs and the muscles in your thighs ache. Your lungs burn because of how you’re panting, unable to catch your breath.

His fingers tighten around your wrists when you almost buck out of his grasp, the tips of them biting into your skin so that you can feel bruises starting to form, but you don’t care. You’re so close, so fucking close. His mouth is on your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse, his lips leaving hickeys behind, and his tongue leaving your skin hot and wet.

You can feel the pressure building. Your pussy is clenching desperately around nothing, and you can feel your pulse beating in your toes, your clit, even in your fingertips—you’re that close to breaking. It feels so fucking good, but you’re fighting it because the pleasure is starting to border on pain and overstimulation.

And you’re lost in it, trapped as you are beneath him.

You crave that sweet release, the way fire will race through your blood, and the way your world will be scored with lightning. You need it as much as you need to breathe, but every part of you is alive. You can hear the blood rushing behind your ears; hear the beating of your heart as it slams into your breastbone; your eyes rolling back every time his hips snap forward, pushing every inch of him deep inside you.

"Venire," he growls against your neck, his breath literally burning against your sweat-slicked skin. You don’t know what he says, but the lust in his voice and the feral look in his eyes pull that coil painfully tight. You’re breaking—he’s breaking you. He’s got you on the verge of being fucked stupid, sobbing because of him and how good it feels, but he wants more from you.

"Sam! Sam, please, please," you plead, throwing your head from side to side, desperately trying to tug your hands free. You arch your back when he hits a spot that has dots decorating your vision, your tits thrusting into the air. You can’t figure out what you’re asking for. For him to stop or for him to keep going, it’s a blur.

Every movement of his hips has that knot pulling tighter—so tight that you might die. Your pussy is twitching, clenching around nothing, and you’re so wet that it’s shining on his skin every time he bottoms out.

"Venire," he says again, this time against your ear. Your pleasure-addled brain, so drugged with pleasurable pain and desperate for the release he’s forcing from you, only comprehends what he's saying when two of his fingers are shoved through your slick folds and into your clenching hole, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles.

You struggle to close your thighs, tears streaming down your face, tits bouncing as he fucks you harder. His cock is stretching your ass beyond belief while his fingers ram into that spongy spot that has your vision decorated with stars. "I - I - I - can’t!" You manage to stutter out, hips bucking against his, your pussy clenching so tight around his fingers.

Except you can because that dam breaks with so much pressure that you scream. It feels like lightning has hit your body, sizzling through your veins until you’re thrashing beneath him, your thighs quivering violently, and your toes curled so much that it hurts.  Sam doesn’t stop, not even when your ass tightens around his cock to the point of pain. He just presses his thumb against your clit, circling, rubbing, and making you scream for him.

You feel a gush between your thighs, your pussy convulsing around his fingers as you cum in a fountain spray. Sam curls his fingers into your g-spot, scissors them, and pulls them from you to draw out as much cum as possible. If you had any brains left, you might have been embarrassed by the way you came, squirting so hard that it hits his abdomen and drips from the nest of curls at the base of his shaft, how it drenches your thighs and pools on the mattress beneath you.

But you’re gone, lost, and fucked dumb, only able to grunt as he keeps fucking you.

"Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit." His own voice is trembling, and his balls draw closer to his body as the muscles in his abdomen tighten. He buries himself deep so that your ass is full and your pussy tingles. And you feel it as he grunts against your neck—feel the white-hot ribbons of cum filling your ass.

Sam keeps thrusting until you've milked him dry, and then he pulls out, drawing a pathetic, desperate moan from your lips because of the sensation. Having let go of your wrists, he sits back on his haunches. You lay there, your thighs still trembling, your mind lost. Sam watches the way your pretty pussy twitches and the way your ass puckers, and his sticky cum drips from it in fat globs.

"What do pretty girls say after being filled with cum?" He asks, his voice soft, his fingers pushing his cum back into your stretched-out ass so that you were whimpering and shaking again. You manage to peel your eyes open to stare at him, tears in them, your chest heaving as he shoves two long fingers into your asshole.

He speaks English this time so that you understand, but you are still slow to react, straining to close your thighs. He kisses you without warning, his tongue in your mouth, licking yours until you're clawing at his shoulders to keep him there, desperate for his kiss.

"Gratias tibi." You managed with a weary smile, and that was enough for him for the moment.

the translations ::

Hic tam arctus es, infans. - You’re so tight here, baby.

Ubi vis me? - Where do you want me?

Hic? - Here?

Hic? - Here?

Jesus, tam stricta es. - Jesus, you’re so tight.

Venire - Come/cum.

Venire - Come/cum.

Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit. - So pretty, baby, so beautiful, coming so hard for me.

Gratias tibi - Thank you.

[webslingingslasher]

thinking..... nerd!peter shyly asking you out for the first time, completely prepared for a rejection and almost having a heart attack when you say yes - ⭐️

when peter's friends hype him up, it's to be expected. they float him with fake self-confidence and tell him how great he is and how lucky someone would be to have him.

this is expected, they are his friends. they know how great he is, because they know him.

you do not know him. you will not think he's great.

when may hypes him up, it's because he went to her in confidence and determination. he had sat next to her on the couch one evening, before letting it out.

'how do i ask a girl out on a date?'

may gasped, pausing the crime show, she couldn't wait for this moment. the moment her nephew would experience the thrill of having a lover in his life. he has no idea how alive he's about to feel.

'who are we asking out?'

'someone i like.' peter appreciates may, but she can also get ahead of herself.

may picks up on the apprehension, 'okay, what, you guys share a class or a friend group?'

'class. she doesn't really know me.'

his aunt shifts in her seat, 'have you tried talking to her? even just a little?' peter shrugs. 'i mean, i smile at her sometimes?'

'are you asking how to talk to her or how to ask her out?'

even if he feels shy admitting it, he cares more about getting to spend time with you. 'i could talk to her on a date, couldn't i?'

may grins, 'next time you see her, just ask her if she's doing anything this weekend and go from there.' peter freezes, 'go from where?'

'have you even thought about come comes next after she says yes?' panic fills him, 'no, i never thought i'd get that far.'

'peter!' may sighs, 'if you want a real answer, it's confidence. come up with a date and ask her.'

'what if she says no?' peter's aunt frowns, 'it happens. rejection sucks, but you brush it off and try again. you put yourself out there and tried, you got a no and that's fine, next time you ask, it won't be as scary.'

peter feels like he has no shot, but the one percent chance of maybe pushes him along.

-------

peter swallowed every bit of anxiety and slowly walked up to your locker. you were in another world, humming and singing under your breath. swapping books and folders you started to zip your bag, peter hasn't said a word and fears he's staggered a bit too long.

he did, because when you turned you jumped with a small scream. holding a hand over your heart you breathed out, 'you scared the fuck out of me, peter. are you always that quiet?'

peter wanted to ask you out, but he scared you instead. he doesn't have high hopes. he ignores you and spills before he has the chance to bolt, if you say no, he has the weekend to recover.

'can i ask you something?'

you smile, 'i think i did first, but sure.'

peter looks behind you at a group of your friends, they're standing back and looking very interested. he needs to get out of there, he thinks he's about to die.

your hand on his shoulder makes him look back at you, it's unfair to have eyes that can ease his anxiety and make it go tenfold.

'are you doing anything this weekend?' you take a second to think, 'um, i think my dad wanted to do something. why, what are you doing?'

when you see his face fall you understand his question, he wanted to spend his weekend with you. suddenly, you feel very stupid about your answer.

peter smiles softly, 'nothing, just wondering. you, um, have a good weekend, okay?' he's able to take two steps before you grab his wrist, peter spins back around and waits patiently, he's expecting the 'you too!'

'unless you want to hang out this weekend, in that case i have no qualms about blowing off my dad for you.'

an explosion of joy, your heart picks up, no way he's asking you out.

peter can feel his heartbeat in his throat, he has no idea how he got so lucky. may said girls liked confidence, he didn't show much, but he could now.

'would you like to go out with me this weekend? on a date?'

you can't stop smiling, your cheeks hurt. it feels better when he matches your smile. 'yes. i'd love to go on a date with you.' 

[satellitespinner]

✼ mommy issues .. (two)

a/n: PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS ! holy gyat i just ate good chilli and it made me wanna get pregnant ANYWAYS.. i was gonna add spice but i found out the girl i like had a crush on a dude so you get more angst:) enjoy

content warnings: ANGST readers child is described to have curly hair, reader is of spanish speaking descent. (or atleast speaks it.) we on some white people shit lowk… ellie is good with kids😍😍😍😍😍 reader works in a hospital! you kids lowk an ass.. ellie has another panic attack. ellie still sad. CANADA MENTIONED RAAAHHHHHHHH cat brought up!!!! we almost get a kith…. this bitch is not proofread

wc: 4.4k

taglist @flowersforvi @ellslvr @saturnsdrafts @3lli3l0v3r @williamssgirl @liasxeatt @adelaide013 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliessweetheart @pedropascalsbbg @ellies2missingfingers @nelzooo @r3starttt @jaeminpookie @onlinelesbo @tphmnv @p4ison1vy @pascals-doll @snowy-vee @diddiqueen @littlegingerperson5 @ellieslob @elliessluutt @macaroni676

a few days later ellie finds herself sitting in a booth at her work with her two colleagues. tonight was the first time she was going to babysit your son, and she was terrified

she found that in this moment was the first time her thoughts weren’t plagued of joel since he died.

“i swear! not even light years could dim such a woman.” ellie describes you as if you were a goddess. well, to her you were.

“can you shut the fuck up with that weird space shit and talk like a normal person?”

jesse scolds jokingly. he winces in pain as dina’s foot meets his shin under the table.

“whatever, dude. it’s true.” the girl sulks.

“hey! speaking of space nerd shit. how’s school going, el?” dina asks with a smile on her face.

little did she know the mere mention of school caused gut plummeting anxiety for ellie.

“uhh, it’s good. it’s- school, you know?.” ellie mutters, there isn’t much to say. besides the fact that she’s gonna fail if she doesn’t scrape together a thousand dollars for fucking textbooks.

sometimes ellie wondered if dina struggled with money. she works this shitty waitressing job for twenty bucks an hour, and she has a son. but then again, she didn’t have the burden of school on top of all her other responsibilities.

the table goes quiet after ellie’s response. she’s not one to open up about her personal life. she only told dina about joel dying a few weeks ago.

joel. joel.

ellies mind clouds over. like a switch that clicked, making her go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. she was always like that.

“ellie?” she hears a feminine voice break her out of her trance. a sympathetic expression on dina’s face when ellie looks up at her.

“sorry. what did you say?” she throws in a fake smile to distract from the fact that she was on the brink of another panic attack.

the last time she had a panic attack at work she was so embarrassed she didn’t come in for a week.

“i asked if you needed a ride tonight. y’know cause of the baby sitting.” dina offers, again.

ellie thinks about arguing with the girl, but she decides against it. knowing she’ll just end up in dina’s passenger seat anyway.

“yeah that would be awesome. thanks.” ellie couldn’t help but feel even more guilty every time dina offered. she felt like she was taking advantage of her. even though she knew she wasn’t.

ellie huffs out of her cheeks before standing up from the booth. “time to get back to work.” she jokingly frowns. causing jesse to laugh.

“it was time to get back to work 10 minutes ago.” he corrects in a ‘told you so’ tone as they start walking back to their designated areas.

“fuck off.” she peers, stopping so dina can catch up to them. she sticks her tongue out at jesse when dina places a hand on her shoulder.

“what a gentlewoman, she’s gonna love you.” she whispers and shoots ellie a wink. leaving ellie flustered yet rolling her eyes.

6:45

you had to be at work in an hour and your son was not cooperating.

“felix!” you shriek, the child was running around with a cheeto you gave him 3 hours ago. you fight the urge to laugh at his un styled curls and grimey face, but your stern mom facade over rode.

“¡vuelve aquí niño sucio!”

(“come back here dirty boy”)

he continued to run wild like a chicken with no head. you start to get sick of his behavior and put your foot down.

“felix. now.”

he stops in his tracks at your stern tone. he sulks as he makes his way to you. you smile at his obedience.

you take his gross cheeto and toss it into the trash. he pouts at your action which causes you to scoff. “put that lip away, chiquito.” you tease him.

he lightens up fast. his sad attitude being replaced with a toothy smile. it was infectious. whenever he was happy, you were happy.

“there we go!” you laugh as you zip up his sweater. he scrambles away before you could wipe the dirt off of his face. you sigh.

you picked your battles with him.

you decided to shoot ellie a quick text, hoping to prepare her for your crazy kid.

ellie’s running around the house in hopes to baby-proof the place when she gets a text from you.

sexy neighbor: hey ellie! he’s almost ready, and please excuse the dirt on his face. i promise i’m not a bad mom lol.

she smiles and begins to type back.

ellie: all good haha, is there any specific allergies or things you need done tonight?

she shuts off her phone and continues to clean up, moving the whiskey on the counter into the high parts of her cupboard.

she runs to her room and changes into a pair of gray sweats and a clean hoodie.

sexy neighbor: nope no allergies! could you make him dinner? if it’s to big of an ask i can totally send something! just say the word.

ellie: oh absolutely. i already planned to make him dinner anyway.

sexy neighbor: oh wow thank you so much, you’re going to be a great babysitter i’m sure 😉

ellie’s cheeks heat up at the text. you were such a mom. she thought to herself. she was just going to like the message when another comes through.

sexy neighbor: he is insisting to bring his coloring supplies. i hope that’s okay..?

ellie: oh wow were going to get along well. that’s totally fine :)

sexy neighbor: thanks sweetheart

a few minutes ellie’s front door is being knocked on by a small hand. when she opens the door she’s met with a backpack clad felix and you. in scrubs.

“hi!” she exclaimed as soon as she opened the door, her words mostly directed at the young boy.

“hello!” your son replies quickly. “i brought toys for us to play with!” she tells her, like he’s known her forever.

“oh thank god.” she puts a hand over her heart as she crouches down to his level.

“toys r’ scarce around here..” she warns. felix looks at her confused, but you laugh.

ellie stands up and puts out her hand for the boy to take, which he does. you smile at the interaction before crouching down to him.

“te amo, cariño” you gently whispered into his ear as you give him a small peck.

you stand up quickly and pull ellie in for a quick hug as well.

“thank you, again.” you sighed into the hug as you expressed your gratitude. ellie smiled at you. she really wanted to kiss you right now.

“don’t sweat it, now get going mom. you’re gonna be late!” she jokes as she looks down at your son.

“you’re right. i should go.” you make your way to the car and get in. you roll down your window and blew kisses at your son, who was now in ellie’s arms. you shoot ellie a wink before taking off.

ellie puts your son down, keeping his hand interlocked with hers as she takes him inside.

“hey kid, does your mom speak spanish?”

—————————————————————-

you found yourself immediately trusting ellie when you first met her. her green eyes reminded you of your own sons.

you saw yourself in her quite a bit, you could tell she was hurting. when she opened up to you that night in your kitchen about her father you could tell.

she told you she had grown up without a mother and all you could think about was nurturing and comforting her like she deserved.

you also saw the way she looked at you.

ellie found great comfort in your sons presence. he distracted her from her usual routine, which wasn’t the healthiest..

currently, felix had ellie drawing each one of his toy cars.

“like this?” she asks, flipping the paper to show him her drawing of a red car.

“no!” he denies before showing his own. a paper full of scribbles with his name poorly printed at the top.

“ohhh.. i see.” she says before flipping the paper back to herself and scribbling atop her original drawing.

“like this?” she asks once again.

“yes!” he confirms. ellie laughs at his childish antics.

the boy had requested a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner around 8:30.

“yeah i could go for a grilled cheese right now.” ellie agrees as she pats his head.

ellie had mastered the art of cooking before she was 14. when joel started fostering her the first thing she asked him was if she could use the kitchen.

although she would do anything to do that for her career, in this economy there was no chance. so she settled on astrophysics. and boy was it expensive.

she just hoped that everything would work out and she could make joel proud.

your shift was fucking exhausting. first, some random psych patient spit in your face. then, you spilt coffee all over yourself not even halfway through the night.

you were ready to go home and see your baby.

you had texted ellie a few times throughout the night for updates and she replied with something positive every time.

ellie next door: yeah he’s fine don’t worry! hes coloring right now.

you: awh that’s my boy. i hope he’s not being to much.

ellie next door: nope not too much at all

ellie next door: *one attachment*

he says hi mama !

you: oh my god aweeeeeee you two are so cute.

you smiled and saved the image to your camera roll without hesitation. it was a picture of your son at ellie’s kitchen table, markers and paper littered her table.

the reflection of her on the black television caught her smiling widely as he waved at the camera.

you: did he eat anything yet?

ellie next door: yep! he requested a grilled cheese. he also had some snacks earlier.

you: perfectttt you’re a life saver!

ellie contemplates how she should respond to your message. she could start flirting or she could img fucking chill and be normal.

she chose the latter.

ellie next door: haha! it’s really no problem :)

ellie had put your son to bed in her bedroom rather than the couch. the kid had toddled in there before ellie could reach him.

she tried to chase him down but his curiosity made him fast and sneaky.

“get back here lil’ man!” she giggles as his tiny feet smack against the hardwood floors.

he giggles as he ran away from her, running into the first open door he sees, that being ellie’s room.

he was awestruck by the many comic book posters and the guitar in the corner of the room was where he was headed.

before ellie grabbed him, that is.

“i don’t think so.” she laughs as she picks him up with ease. gently tossing him onto the bed.

“you have a boys room. but you’re a girl.” the boy points out, not in a bad way. ellie could tell he was just stating what he saw.

“yeah thanks for telling me i didn’t know.”

by the time you arrived home the sun was about to come up, and you were fucking exhausted. you contemplated asking ellie to keep him the rest of the night, but you didn’t.

your kid, your responsibility. you reminded yourself. as you knocked on ellie’s door.

pajama clad ellie opens the door with a smile, welcoming you in immediately.

“hey ellie, how was it?” you ask with a yawn. she guides you over to her kitchen island. her house layout almost identical to yours.

ellie smiles and describes her night with your son in great detail. your heart melts at the way her face lights up during certain points of her story. she recalls how she chased him around after dinner and he insisted on sleeping in her room.

your reach into your purse and searched your wallet, you spoke as your hands fumbled in your bag.

“i really cannot thank you enough,” you begin, finally pulling out your wallet and pulling out a few twenties for ellie. she looks confused as you try to pass them to her, putting her hands out to decline.

“you already paid me, remember?” you nod - urging her to take the extra cash.

“i just wanted to give you a little extra.” you smile and ellie almost cries. she held it together though, she probably told you thank you about forty times before you laughed and told her it wasnt a problem.

ellie lead you to her bedroom to retrieve your son, who was dead asleep underneath her planet print bedsheets. ellies cheeks turned pink when you giggled and said; “nice sheets, el.”

you tried to gently wake your son but he wasn't having it. you grabbed his arm to pull him out of the bed. he groans and slides himself underneath the covers. you are fully on your knees at this point. “i swear, if you embarrass me.” you threaten in a whisper so ellie didn't hear, she still did.

ellie chuckled lowly. “he can sleep here, its pretty late anyways.” she smiled.

you slightly bit your lip. “are you sure?” it wasn't ellie that you didn't trust, it was your kid. ellie wasn't hearing it.

“positive.”

sleepovers at ellies became a recurring thing after that. your son was so excited everytime she babysat and it made your heart so full.

this time in particular your son was extra excited. ellie had promised him ice cream for not putting up a fight to leave the previous time.

usually she greeted you at the door with a smile and a hug. but this time she didn’t answer at all..

“mama where’s ellie?” your son asked. “i don’t know baby.” you reply with a raise of your eyebrow.

you saw her arrive home, you two even spoke briefly before she went in to unwind. she seemed dull today.

you knew something wasn’t right so you decided to go in. your son followed you close behind. you sat him on the couch and advised him not to move.

the house was dark. you slowly stepped down the hallway.

“ellie? honey?” you called out, to your surprise there was no reply. a shiver crept up your spine.

you walked until you were faced with her bedroom door. it was slightly open. so you knocked before you stepped inside.

“ellie?”

the door cracked open as you entered. you didn’t know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t that.

ellie was laying in her bed, fetal position. sobbing her brains out. you were surprised you didn’t hear her when you were walking down the hall.

she gasped for air as you rushed to her. you sit down and sit her up so her back is against the headboard.

“shh, you’re okay. i’m here.” those words, although comforting triggered even more tears to fall. she didn’t know what she was doing.

the girl screamed in your arms for what felt like forever and you just sat there and held her. you whispered sweet words into her ears and rubbed circles on her back.

eventually your son had run through the door. a little gasp leaving his lips at the sight of ellie.

“ellie are you okay!?” he practically screamed in her face. you took your free hand and tried to shove him out the door.

ellie’s loud cries turned into soft sniffles as he wouldn’t leave. your son practically jumped onto her to try and make her feel better. your heart drops but ellie just laughs and pulls him into a deep hug.

ellie looks to you as your son babbles absolute nonsense into her shoulder.

“i’m really sorr-“ she starts, but you instantly cut her off.

“absolutely none of that.” you say, in your mom voice. her eyes widen at your tone.

“can you stay with els while i make a quick phone call?” you ask your son. he stands up tall. “yes!” he nods as if he were superman. you and ellie both laugh.

ellie knew exactly what put her in that position. her entire day was fucked from the beginning.

she should've called out of work when she woke up from a dream nightmare about joel.

she couldn’t stop thinking about the dream while doing her morning routine, or skating to work. which ended with her on the ground and her board in half.

if that wasn’t enough, while she was on her shift her ex walks in.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” she whisper-yells as she watches the black haired, tattoo ridden girl takes a seat. with a new girl.

there was no way in hell she was going to serve them. she couldn’t ask dina, her table kept sending back the food. ellie was ready to go over there and rip them a new one. she refrained.

jesse couldn’t, obviously. she wasn’t going to ask sam. she looked like she was also on the verge of tears. i guess everyone’s having a shitty day. she thought to herself as she walked over to cats table. except you.

“ellie! hey!” cat smiled, she wasn’t happy to see ellie, it was an evil smile. she was happy to terrorize ellie.

“i forgot you worked here!” she continues, earning an eye roll from ellie. sure you did, bitch.

ellie keeps it short and sweet. oh how badly she wanted to ask if this was her new girlfriend. but she didn’t.

“what can i get for you?” she asks, she didn’t even bother plastering a fake smile on her face.

cat and her whatever she is tell ellie there orders and she’s out of there. she doesn’t even give out her scripted response of.

“great choices! that’ll be right out for you!”

she just leaves.

when ellie returns with the two plates the pair look to be in deep conversation.

perfect ellie thought. she could just put down the food and get the fuck out of there-

“so how’s joel?!” cat asks, her lips pursed and her hands intertwined underneath her chin. ellie takes a deep breath. she should’ve docked cat in the face. she didn’t.

the fucking nerve that this bitch has.

ellie doesn’t reply. she turns around and speed walks back to the kitchen where she breaks down for the first time that day. dina ended up finding her and bringing her home early.

to top off her picture perfect fucking day. ellie gets home and finds a new email from her prof. she quickly skims through. as soon as she read the words “cost” and a four digit number, she was done.

her wobbly legs about to give out underneath her as she lays down on her bed. she takes a few deep breaths but it doesn’t help.

she didn’t even hear you come in. but soon enough you were rubbing her back and telling her that it was going to be okay.

she couldn’t help but cry more because the last person to comfort her like that was him.

eventually you calmed her down. you left for a few minutes and came back with a glass of water and a few pain killers.

“take these, your head must be killing you.” you sit down next to her and rub her back as she throws the pills back.

god. ellie felt like such a child.

“good girl.” you whisper as she takes a few more deep breaths. eventually calming completely. the comment didn’t pass hee though. her cheeks (among other things.) were suddenly hot and sticky from tears.

she turned to make eye contact with you, her eyes blood shot. you wondered how long she had been crying for.

the first words that left ellie’s mouth were simple. “did you still want that ice cream, lil man?” your son jumped up and down before grabbing her hand and pulling her off into the kitchen.

ellie had sat him down with a kind portion of chocolate ice cream before she walked up to you.

“hes more than welcome to sleep here tonight. if you don’t feel like picking him up.” she clarifies. her hands on her hips.

“oh ellie, i called out of work. we’re both staying.” ellie’s jaw drops. she instantly starts shaking her head in denial.

“no no you didn’t need to do that trust me, i’m really fine-” you pull her in for a hug to shut her up. you hold her tightly as she sighs into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry.” she whispers. you could only imagine how embarrassed she must’ve been.

“don’t be. you’re human.” you reassure her. you wanted to cry now too. you knew she was going through a bit of money trouble but how broken was this girl?

that night after your son went to bed you listened to ellie rant about her life for hours.

for the most part she held back tears but when she brought up joel you could tell it was hard.

you didn’t pry, or ask questions. you just listened. you listened to the good and the bad.

you two laughed when she told you about when she kissed her best friend riley, and then cried when she told you that riley had moved to canada and that they haven’t talked since.

you had told ellie about how you discovered you were a lesbian during your marriage.

you were bruh shocked to find your now ex-husband very cool with it.

she found out that you guys shared custody and he owned a house in a different part of the city. ellie was a bit envious of your seemingly normal life. you didn’t have to worry about money. atleast, not as much as she did.

you were nodding along as ellie told you about joel. joel had fostered ellie since she was twelve, he adopted her officially when she was sixteen.

she told you how he taught her the guitar, and let her get a tattoo before she turned eighteen.

ellie and joel’s relationship was rocky before he passed. ellie was going through that age where she needed a mother when she started acting out.

“i was always angry.” she confessed. “i would say the cruelest things to him and he would just,” she paused, looking for the right word. “he just took it.”

you frowned at this.

if you had known about any of this you would have never thrown your kid at her for half the week.

among the bad, you also learned a few interesting things about ellie.

she really liked to cook, and she was fucking good at it. you discovered that when she pulled out leftover pasta and served it to you like you were a member of the royal family.

eventually it was your turn to talk her ear off. however, there wasn’t much to tell, you thought.

“uhm- my favorite movie is tangled.” you laughed. ellie blew a raspberry.

“oh c’mon mama, you didn’t have like - a crazy childhood?” she asked. mama, huh?

you shrugged and spoke “not much to tell.” ellie rolls her eyes.

“alrighty then.” she ponders for a moment before speaking “you wanna watch a movie?” she asked, smiling like a fox. you felt your core tighten.

you accepted her offer and she reached out and helped you off her bar stool.

“what a gentle woman.”

“so i’ve been told.”

you and ellie didn’t settle on a movie. she sat you down and told you that you were watching tangled.

you put your hands up in defense. “if you insist.”

“i do insist.” she lays a soft pink blanket over the two of you as the movie begins.

“didn't picture you as much of a pink girl.” you state, covering your arms up with the blanket.

“m’ not, it’s just for you.” she says, her eyes only leaving the television to meet your own.

“just for me?” you ask, putting a hand over your chest in flattery.

“mhm” she replies with a wink and turns her focus back to the tv. it was your turn to feel flustered at her actions. she was quite the flirt apparently.

rapunzel was currently interrogating eugene when you turned to ellie.

“this is also his favorite movie.” ellie smiled at the fact. “is it really?” she laughed. not a condescending laugh, but more of a ‘that’s the cutest thing i’ve ever heard’ laugh.

“it is! he loves it so much, it’s adorable.” you tell her.

“you’re adorable” ellie accidentally admits. her face flushing when she’s noticed what she said.

she’s about to profusely apologize and possibly crawl in a hole and die when you giggle.

“i could say the same about you.” you whisper, shifting your body a little closer to her own. you were already close, but now your thighs were touching.

you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, her eyes still on the screen. you burn holes in the side of her face. she doesn’t budge.

“ellie?” you whisper, you see her swallow before turning to look at you.

“y-yeah?” her pupils had dilated just a bit and you swore her freckles were more prominent. maybe you were a bit too close-

“you’re very pretty.” you tell her, your eyes darting from her eyes to her lips. then back to her eyes again.

ellie didn’t respond, instead she smirked and licked her lips. “yeah, you think so?” she asks, mostly rhetorically but you answer anyway. “i know so.”

ellie’s lips are dangerously close to your own when she slips her hand under your chin.

“i think you’re the prettiest.” she whispers. you almost didn’t hear her.

you're closing the gap between you two when you hear your sons sleepy voice come out of nowhere. you and ellie both quickly pull away from each other and she clears her throat.

“‘punzel!” he cheers, one of his pant legs riding up his leg, his hair all frizzled. you both light-heartedly laugh at the boys appearance.

“c’mere, baby.” you bring your arms out from underneath the blanket. open for him to crawl into. he obliged and crakes into your lap. you couldn’t even be mad at him for being up so late at this point.

ellie reached up and strokes his hair gently.

fucking cockblock