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miss-bushido · 3 months ago

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make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

#soft steddie september #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie x steve #steddie

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delirious-donna · 7 months ago

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There’s No Better Love [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: entirely inspired by this absolutely amazing art of Hiromi with a soft little tum (link to twitter here). I ADORE soft bellies, and I am here to spread the agenda to normalise this in both men, women and they/them. They are beautiful and I will nuzzle those pooches just like they deserve.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: none really, soft fluff, domestic vibes, body positivity throughout, suggestive at best, reader loves her husband unconditionally (as she should)

Masterlist

Higuruma enjoys a nice long soak, a fact that you’ve come to appreciate even more than when you found him all those years ago submerged whilst fully suited on that dimly lit stage. That was the day that your life changed forever, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Since then, he tends to stick to more traditional bathing practices, though he has been known to drag you kicking and screaming into the shower when you are both still fully dressed. You had to admit, there was something weirdly satisfying about the experience, almost cathartic, but you continued to bristle when he chuckled and gave you that knowing look. The one where he is certain he’s won and you’re not sure whether you want to smack him or kiss him. No prizes for guessing which option usually wins out…

In lieu of fully clothed bathing, Hiromi takes to visiting a bathhouse on his way home from work once every few weeks. Usually on a Friday, and especially during those weeks where he feels like his workload will never end.

You can always tell when he’s done exactly that, acutely aware of the zen-like hum that radiates from him as soon as he steps through the door. His smile is lax—dopey and carefree. His normally dark, calculating eyes have grown warm and shiny, still just as tired but less sore. A blush decorates his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and of course, his hair is still damp because he never takes the time to dry it fully before tripping his way home to you on a cloud of relaxation.

Many things have changed since that first fateful encounter, so many that it would take an age to list them all out, but right now, your focus falls to that of his stomach. Half undressed, Hiromi stands by the sliding wardrobes with his shirt hanging open. His trousers spill messily from the laundry hamper, leaving him in his underwear and black socks. His stomach forms a soft pooch, a beautiful curve that has you capturing your lip between sharp teeth.

Decorated with black downy hair from navel to the band of his shorts, you reminisce of the days when that subtle tum was simply flat. No real meat to his abdomen to speak of, although he was still strong and was even more so today. A fact he revels in proving by hoisting you onto the nearest surface to have his wicked way with you. Back then though, taking care of himself had always fallen low on his list of priorities, and if that meant he skipped a meal or two to catch up on his emails, then so be it and his physique bore the evidence of his focus.

The evidence of his shifting priorities warmed your heart, a sentimental smile tugging at your lips and it brought you to the edge of the bed. His eyes caught yours in the reflection of the mirror, eyebrows crinkling in question whilst you simply held out a hand for him, which he took without thought.

“Something wrong?” He asked. His other hand found your cheek, palm cupping gently whilst his thumb stroked lovingly across your soft skin.

You hummed. “Far from it. Have I told you lately how much I love this little tummy?” Leaning forward, your nose nuzzled against the small pooch, the coarse hairs tickling at your cheek, until he tensed and tried to suck it in.

“Hey! Don’t do that,” you chastised, glancing up from beneath your lashes with a snort of annoyance exhaled through your nose. Hiromi rubbed at his neck, embarrassed perhaps, but you weren’t having any of that. Not when he so openly worshipped your body. It was his turn to be on the receiving end for once.

“You’ve been over feeding me,” he grumbled with his bottom lip jutting out in a mock pout.

Hiromi let out a yelp as your teeth nipped at his stomach, head snapping down to meet your fiery eyes and he had the decency to look away sheepishly. “I think you’ll find, that I have simply been feeding you. And anyways…” You murmured, drawing a little loveheart next to the pink mark from your bite. “It’s cute. Makes me feel like you’re truly comfortable with me, with us and our life.”

“An understatement, darling.” His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair. “Now, why don’t you come up here and kiss me where I can return the favour, hm?”

Moving to your knees, you wound an arm around his neck and claimed his lips just as he asked. There was no urgency, no fumbling or groping hands divesting you of clothes, only that sweet connection of two people so in love that they couldn’t bear to be parted. And yet, part you must. The need for oxygen an irksome necessity when you would much rather breathe in your husband until your lungs seized up entirely.

“Mm, I can smell the oils from the bathhouse on you,” you murmured, moving your lips to his jaw, down his neck and across his clavicle, leaving wet little kisses along the way. “Did you have a nice soak?”

Hiromi sighed in contentment, letting his body relax and return to its normal stature. He felt his small but obvious belly sag, brushing against your own and he tipped his head in wonder.

“Mhm. Feels nice to lie back and let the stresses of the week slough off. Do you… do you really like it?” He asked, hands settled at your waist and tracing his thumbs in slow circles over the cushion of belly. It was ridiculous to be self-conscious about something like this, but the feeling existed nonetheless. Hiromi knew that had the situations been reversed, with you being the one asking such a silly question, he would waste not a second in proving just how much he loved every inch of you—both with verbose enthusiasm and physical reinforcement of his words.

“Hiro.”

Your fingers skimmed his shoulders, pulling free the shirt that resided on his back. You explored the structure of him; the ridges of bones, the strength of lithe muscles, skin dappled in dark hairs and marked by a small number of scars. Every freckle deserved attention and you followed the path your fingers traversed with your mouth, listening to his breathing grow irratic and stuttered.

“I love the very bones of you. The sinew and tendons. The blood pumping through your heart and moving…” you paused, glancing down deliberately. “To every organ and limb. This stomach proves to me that you’re happy, and whether it stays like this or grows bigger, I will continue to love it, and you.”

He let out a sigh when your lips trailed lower and your tongue peeked out to lick at his happy trail. Hiromi cupped your jaw, waiting until your gaze lifted to gift you a smile that reached his eyes and twinkled with the mischief you were accustomed to. With soft fingers you kneaded his hips and around to his backside to give a squeeze.

“I think you’ve made your point, you little minx,” he hissed, though he couldn’t prevent the breathless giggle that accompanied the words.

“Y’know… I don’t think I have, but let me remedy that,” you purred, reaching for the waistband of his underwear and forcing him one step closer. “We’ve got the rest of our lives, after all…”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma fluff #hiromi fluff #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader

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im-just-daria · 23 days ago

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In The Dark

The Jackal x Reader

Fandom: The Day of the Jackal

Word Count: 2.107

Summary: Who knew your degree would make you a perfect acquaintance for an assassin?

Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and suicide, threatening, breaking into a house, the usual stuff you would expect from a series about an assassin.

A/N: Hi guys <3, my first fanfiction ever. The lack of writings on this man is very concerning. English is not my first language and there was no beta. Let me know if there are any mistakes or if something isn't tagged properly! Same with warnings missing- please let me know :)

''For fuck's sake'' you mumbled under your breath as you walked down the street. The rain was pouring down as you tried to get to your flat as soon as possible. Working in a local pub in London wasn't the worst until you had to get home on Friday at 1 am after the shift. You finally reached the bus stop and sat down on a little bench, very grateful for the little roof covering the seats. Today was just not your day; for starters, you got an email from your landlord about the rent getting increased soon. Secondly, you got rejected from another job you applied to and on top of all that, one of your coworkers took your umbrella from the staff room. You sighed and shivered as you tried your best not to cry. Your mascara was already ruined due to rain, and your hair was a complete mess, making you look as miserable as you felt.

You stood up as you saw your bus approach, giving a little wave to the driver, waiting for him to stop the vehicle. You smiled at the man behind the wheel, tapped your card against the reader and took your place at the end of the bus. With your headphones in, you looked around the bus and found the exact type of people you would expect to see on a night bus at 1 am on Friday in London. Two heavily intoxicated girls eating McDonald's, making a mess everywhere, some drug addict talking to himself in a corner, a woman crying and recording a voice message and a couple making out on the seats adjacent to yours. 15 minutes later, you left the bus and made your way towards the flat. You lived on the 3rd floor; it was a simple one-bedroom apartment. You unlocked the door and almost ran inside. Leaning your back against the door, you let a few tears run down your cheeks. You quickly removed your jacket and hung it on a wardrobe door to let it dry, taking off your shoes as well. You followed down the hallway to the living room, and as soon as you reached the room, about to switch on the light, you heard a deep and calm voice coming from your armchair.

"Don't turn on the light," you gasped, and your head snapped towards the man. You could barely see his outline; his legs were crossed, and both arms rested against the chair. You could see him staring at you, yet he was not moving at all. Your eyes fell to his right hand, and you inhaled sharply as you saw a gun.

''It is loaded, and the safety is off'' he paused, and you could see him barely tilting his head to the left. ''You won't have time to run, and if you scream, I will put a bullet through your head before you even open your mouth. Your next shift is on Sunday, so my guess is that no one would see your body until Monday morning.'' Your body just froze. You had no idea who this man was or how he knew your work schedule, but most importantly, you had no idea what he could want from you. You felt dizzy and lightheaded, so you managed to stutter out ''O-okay.'' You leaned on the wall behind you, staring at the man before you, waiting for him to do or say something. It felt like ages before he finally spoke up again.

''You graduated from the 'hair, make-up and prosthetics' course at the London University of Arts with a first-class degree; now, at 23, two years after graduating, you still work in a pub after being rejected from theatres and studios. On top of that, you won't be able to pay rent from May, and your best friend is ghosting you again for her boyfriend'' He paused again. ''Oh, and you are starting to get black mould in the bathroom, which your landlord completely ignores.''

You looked away and inhaled deeply. 'This is just fantastic,' you thought to yourself. You have a psychopath in your flat who clearly hacked your whole phone, and God knows what else, listing down all the failures and problems. You knew it was a hard industry to get into when you started university, but you always thought skills would get you to a starting point, at least. You never suspected it to be nearly impossible- every position on film sets and theatres was just filled with people hired because of their friendships or parents. Now, you worked full-time in a pub, and with inflation, you started to struggle with rent even though you were doing almost 40 hours a week. Your best friend stopped reading your messages a few days ago because she got back with her ex, who absolutely hated your guts (all you did was point out to her every time he cheated on her, forgot their dates, and ignored her anytime he was drinking with his mates). So you probably don't have a best friend anymore. You could call your mom, but she would probably turn this situation into blaming you, and your dad left you when you were younger.

All the stress from your life and no one to talk to is starting to rush down. Your job doesn't care about you, nor does your landlord or friends, apparently. And you have probably a murderer in your living room right now. Your vision starts to get blurry with tears again as your breath quickens. You look at the man across the room as he observes you. You just feel so tired and hopeless. A whisper comes out of you, and you hope he didn't hear it- you regret saying it as soon as the words leave your mouth.

"Just shoot me and take what you want." You always thought the phrase 'the silence was so loud' was exaggerated. It wasn't; all you could hear and feel was the silence. The man kept looking at you, observing; you felt almost judged but immediately scolded yourself, ''Why the fuck would I care that a psychopath with a gun who broke into my flat thinks I am pathetic?'' Too many dark romance books- you tried to explain to yourself. Reading about kidnapping and murder is your bedtime read, so of course, you normalised feeling bad about yourself in the presence of someone who can literally end your life. You patiently waited for his reply.

''Excuse me?'' He asked stoically, without any movement. You started to get impatient; it was almost 2 am now, and all you wanted was to get to bed; if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it a long time ago. If he wanted to sexually assault you, he would attack you already, and if he wanted to rob you, he would do it if you weren't home. You sighed and looked at the man ''Just tell me what you want; you clearly made a lot of effort to hack my phone and read through my messages, emails and work rotas. You broke in here with a gun, yet all you did so far is summarise my life and threaten me.'' You said all that in one breath; you crossed your arms as you continued. ''Tell me what you want, oka-''

''I need you to make a prosthetic for me.'' He raised his voice as he interrupted me. You stared at him in disbelief. ''THAT'S IT?!'' You could somehow see the surprise on his face despite the dark room as you nearly shouted. You hid your face in your hands and let out a laugh, all the stress involuntarily leaving your body as you kept laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Your first contract after your degree will be to a criminal, that is, if he pays at all or doesn't shoot you after the job. ''I will pay you twenty thousand pounds.'' You went silent within a second. ''It should be enough downpayment for you to buy a property in England, especially since you already have 6,247 pounds saved,'' the man said calmly as he uncrossed his legs and straightened in the armchair. "You also hacked into my banking app?" you asked in disbelief as you started questioning the security systems of my phone and the bank itself. "Believe it or not, but using a variation of the same password everywhere possible isn't the smartest idea,(Y/N)." He said lightly as if he was making a joke. You chuckled, "Fair point, okay, I am in. What kind of prosthetic do you need?" The man took out a folder from the inside of his jacket. He slid across the floor towards your figure. You picked it up, and before fully standing up, he added, ''Go see the pictures in a bathroom, and don't even think about taking the nail scissors from the top drawer of your cabinet; I already took them.'' ''Creep,'' you muttered as you walked down the hall towards the bathroom. ''I heard that,'' the man replied from the living room. You could have sworn you heard him saying that through a smile.

You turned on the light and entered the room. It was a simple black folder with no labels or markings. You slowly opened it and saw 4 pictures inside. It looked like security pictures people would take when starting to work for bigger companies. The man in the pictures looked like he was in his middle sixties; the first picture looked like an identity card, just a simple portrait. The second one was from a side clearly taken by the same company, and finally, the last two were taken from a top and a back. However, they were taken from a street, almost as if the man was being followed by the photographer. ''No doubt who'' you thought. It is a rather complicated prosthetic with all the wrinkles and freckles, but it was doable, expensive but doable.

You closed the folder, left the bathroom and turned off the light behind you. As you expected, the man in the living room hasn't moved. ''I can do it; it will take about 10 days and maybe 5 grand for all the materials.'' ''I need it by Sunday next week; I will pay for all the materials and resources,'' he replied.'' I also need to know what materials to use to apply it.'' You looked at him sceptically as you leaned against the wall on your left side and crossed your arms. ''Have you ever put on a prosthetic? Especially a full-face prosthetic? Because there is absolutely no way you can manage to put it all on by yourself. Especially if you will have people around who know that man in the picture.'' You tried to explain to him, but it was hard to assume what he was thinking without seeing his face. You could only imagine his face remained emotionless. 'Oh, to have the confidence of white men, ' you thought. ''What do you propose then? How long do you think it would take me to learn?'' ''It took me 2 months to learn simple prosthetics and about 9 to do full faces with wigs. So there is no way you can learn it in a week.'' He sighed and leaned his head on his hand, clearly thinking about the next steps. Suddenly you've just realised what you agreed to, for all you know you can help him murder someone! 'No, no, you are just making a prosthetic, just make-up, you are just selling make-up' you tried to explain to yourself. You did very well with gaslighting yourself until he spoke up.

''Fine, you will put the prosthetic on me then. I will leave the folder and five thousand pounds here for the materials and flight tickets. I will let you know later which flights to buy.'' He stood up from the chair; you could see through his clothes that he was tall and lean. All the lights in the apartment were turned off, and he approached you. He stood directly before you, and it was almost possible to make out his features from a close distance. You unknowingly stopped breathing as he spoke up.

''If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you and your mother.'' He took a small folded piece of paper and handed it to you, as his eyes never left yours. ''Let me know if you need anything,'' he said, walking down the hallway. As he opened the front door, you asked quickly ''Wait, where are we flying?''

''Munich.'' He left without looking back.

#the day of the jackal #the jackal x reader #the day of the jackal fanfiction #the day of the jackal x reader #eddie redmayne #eddie redmayne fanfiction

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year ago

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How do you think Chris (pre getting together) would have comforted her on a bad mental health day or on a day where she’s sad?

I’m in my feels rn and am in need of some wolfie comfort immediately 😤😤😤

P.S - Love you, Rhythm! Hope you’re doing well always! 🩷

- N. 💄

sorry i held onto this one for so long! i just really wanted to write something for it. here's how i think that would go...

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~2k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · roomies idiots to ??? · fluff · hurt/comfort · pre-relationship scenario

minors do not interact.

Fridays were supposed to be the days to unwind. They were supposed to be the day in which you could let loose and forget about work for the next forty-eight hours. At least, you figured they were supposed to be like that for most people.

This Friday particularly, though, had been absolute hell. The whole week had felt like you’d been impersonating Sisyphus and work had been your boulder. You supposed some weeks just… were like that.

Tonight, all you wanted to do was sit in your room, in the dark–preferably in complete silence and just be nothing. If anyone else came to you and so much as muttered a word you were sure you’d break down and start weeping right then and there.

Which was why, as soon as you found yourself in your flat, you went straight to your room. There was no energy left for showers or baths. All you did was take off your clothes and bury yourself under the covers.

You had a total of ten minutes of complete silence before the front door practically burst open and boisterous voices filled your home. It kick-started a twitch in your left eye, it had frustration tears pooling on your waterline, but you couldn’t just… ruin their fun.

You supposed this was the downside of having a roommate. And not only was he a roommate, but he also happened to be the alpha of a pack of wolves, which meant that more often than not your friends and neighbours made themselves at home.

It was fine. That was fine. You loved your friends, you loved to hang out with them and joke and have little parties in your flat. You loved them all, you knew it very well. But, tonight, every little noise they made made you absolutely furious, which made you feel worse because, logically, you shouldn’t be feeling furious at something like this.

Dealing with these conflicting feelings was hard, so you tried your best to just… tune everything out. With your pillow over your head to muffle any sound as best as you could, you laid on your bed, fully naked, probably leaving mascara stains on your pillowcase, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to care.

You managed to mute all background noise… the downside was that you’d done so by replaying events of the week over and over again in your head. How you dropped your coffee mug in the middle of the lunch room on Tuesday, that very passive aggressive email one of your colleagues sent you, how you’d stumbled over your words in a meeting today…

It felt like your heart was preparing itself for a marathon with how fast it was beating, but for the most part, you were trying to ignore it. You were trying to ignore everything.

At least, until you heard a knock on your door.

“You up, pretty girl?”

Your roommate’s voice was slightly muffled, but you heard him well. Any other day, you would’ve probably felt your mood immediately lift at the sound of his gentle voice and the pet name he often used to refer to you. But, today, you couldn’t even find it in you to answer.

Eventually, you heard him walking away, and it was honestly like a weight had been lifted off of your chest.

Which, again, made you feel horrible.

You loved your friends, and your roommate was no exception. Although, you weren’t sure if it was fair to compare the feelings you had for your friends to the ones you had for him…

Regardless, the fact that you felt relieved that you didn’t have to talk to him made you feel terrible. The rational part of your brain knew that this was all due to your exhaustion, but even that couldn’t push away the feeling that you were a horrible friend because you were annoyed by his presence.

Your phone vibrated next to your head, and you immediately sighed in response.

You were tired and cranky… but you were also chronically nosy. So you picked up your phone and read the notification on the screen.

> Xtopher 🐺: hey pretty > were gonna watch an episode of that series Felix likes > feel free to join us if you want :]

You figured it was easy for your roommate, Chris, to know you were home. You’d left your shoes at the entrance, and, considering his supernatural senses, you were pretty sure he could always hear and smell whenever you were here.

You genuinely appreciated that Chris took the time to send you a text, it somehow reminded you that he wouldn’t just hate you all of the sudden because you didn’t respond to him when he knocked on your door–it probably wasn’t even the first time you’d done that, anyway.

Sleep wasn’t going to claim you anytime soon, and you were out of spoons for the day, but you’d be damned if you slept without removing your make-up. So you spent the next hour rummaging the metaphorical drawer that was your brain, just so you could hopefully find that last emergency spoon you knew would be buried under the events of the week.

By the time you’d found it, a while had passed since you’d heard your neighbours saying their goodbyes, and your roommate going in and out of the shower.

You had to do this now. If you didn’t stand up from this bed right now, you’d break your one and only self-care rule. You couldn’t let the mean part of your brain win, you just couldn’t… Your week had already been bad enough, you had to have at least one win.

So you stood up from your bed, threw on the first sleeping gown you found, and left your room.

Cleaning your face was honestly a blur. You tried to do it as fast and efficiently as possible. While you did, you debated on whether or not you had enough energy to even eat tonight, but, ultimately, you really didn’t. You weren’t even hungry, just zero appetite.

So you made it back into your room as soon as your face was clean so you could put moisturiser on your face–there was no energy left for any fancy skin care routines, so moisturiser it was. If you had to put on any extra products you’d start crying for real…

“Hey”.

“Jesus!” You whipped your head towards the door, with your hands still on your cheeks where they’d been rubbing in your moisturiser.

Chris stood at your door looking at you, wide-eyed, dressed in nothing but his lounging shorts. Any other day, the sight of his bare chest would’ve agitated the critters that had been living rent-free in your belly lately.

As it was right now, you were starting to feel genuine distress in his presence. Which, once again, made you feel like a horrible friend. Distress wasn’t an emotion that you would’ve associated with Chris in normal circumstances, but you figured this week had gone backwards enough for it to be today.

You swallowed, and turned back to look at yourself in the mirror, focusing on finishing tonight’s pathetic excuse of a skin care routine.

“You alright?” Chris’ tone was… tentative. Almost like he knew you were, in fact, not alright.

You lied anyway.

“M’fine…”

When you finished with your face, you walked right past Chris and into the bathroom to wash your hands. ‘Spread what’s left on your hands to moisturise them, too…’ you could hear your mother’s voice ringing in the back of your mind, but, honestly? If you had to deal with the feeling of cream on your hands for a second longer you’d commit crimes.

As you washed your hands, you felt Chris’ presence behind you, right outside the bathroom.

“You sure?”

“Positive”, you were, clearly, not fine. But you didn’t want to continue this conversation further, if you did, you feared what might come out of your mouth.

“Y’know you can talk to me, ri–”

“Yes! Yes, I know. I know, Chris. I really do, but I don’t want to do that, you know? I don’t wanna talk, don’t wanna hear, don’t wanna really exist for what’s left of the day, okay?! Maybe it’s better if you mind your own business instead!”

God, you were the worst person on the planet… Here he was, worrying about you like he always did, offering comfort and support, and you weren’t even capable of keeping the annoyance out of your voice, you couldn’t even stop yourself from saying things you didn’t really mean. Why did you let it escalate so quickly? Another one for the tally of Stupid Things I Did This Week that you can sulk over later…

Chris stared at you for a moment, with his eyebrows high on his forehead, opening and closing his mouth for a bit.

A knot started to form in your throat, and no matter how hard you tried to swallow it and ignore its presence, you just… couldn’t.

“My God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you…” You sighed deeply, pressing your fingertips on your eye sockets. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m just so, so exhausted, and I just… I need some silence, okay? I appreciate you asking, but I really need to just… be quiet. I need you to know it’s not you, this is completely on me, but please would you just… not talk to me?”

You really felt like you wanted to cry, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole… Especially because Chris wasn’t saying anything. Which was a very stupid reaction to have when you had just asked him to not talk to you.

When you removed your fingers from your face, you jolted on the spot at the sight in front of you.

You knew Chris was a werewolf. Hell, you’d seen him in his wolf form numerous times already, but sometimes it was hard not to be startled by it.

Chris sat on the floor of the hall, right outside the bathroom, looking you right in the eyes while his tail swished from side to side on the tiles.

You wondered if he’d even fit through the doorway. He was so… big. So big, and so… so cute.

The logical reaction would’ve been to be at least a bit intimidated. He was pretty much at eye-level with you, he was stronger than you, he could very well hurt you with a snap of his jaw, but his eyes were just the same. Gentle, comforting… You were sure that if there’d been twenty more wolves next to him, you would’ve been able to tell him apart from the rest just by his eyes.

Chris whined, and he stomped on the floor with his paw to get your attention. You blinked at him for a bit, and only then did you notice you had actually started to tear up.

Chris whined again, and then huffed. That seemed to be enough to snap you out of it. You could feel your lower lip wobble, but you still walked closer to him, leaving the bathroom to stand in the hall with him.

As soon as you were out of the bathroom he stood on his four legs, and walked further into your space to nudge your hand with his nose. It was odd, really, but looking at him like this seemed to ease some of that squeezing sensation in your chest.

The realisation that he wouldn’t be able to talk to you while in his wolf form was steadily helping you calm down, or, maybe… It was more so the fact that he was trying to respect your wishes, while also not leaving you completely on your own.

“M’sorry…” You apologised again, because you truly were sorry.

There was a small part of you that always worried that days like these would make him suddenly realise you were the worst roommate on the planet, that maybe you were a horrible friend. But, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you. That was just the type of man Chris was.

With a minute shake of your head, you placed a hand under his jaw to support his head, and the other on top so you could scratch him behind the ears. Just because you could.

Even if Chris wouldn’t outright admit it to you, you knew he liked it. His wagging tail was more than proof of that.

“Are you my emotional support animal now?” You mumbled, tears were still running down your cheeks, but only sporadically now.

Chris just huffed, and if you looked hard enough, you could’ve sworn there was amusement in his eyes.

He removed himself from your space and turned in circles a couple of times before he was gently taking your wrist in his mouth. You could feel his teeth barely poke your skin, but you could tell he was being very careful.

He pulled a bit. You figured it was his way of telling you to follow him, so you started to walk. Only then did Chris let go of your wrist to start making his way down the hall.

Wiping the tears on your face–ignoring both the discarded lounge shorts by the bathroom door and the fact that you most definitely ruined tonight’s minimal skin care with your tears–you followed Chris to the living room.

As soon as he was in front of the sofa, he nudged the coffee table away with his head, and grabbed one of the blankets you left in a basket nearby to throw it on the floor. He spun on the spot a couple of times, before he plopped down and started pawing at the floor, looking right at you.

You wanted to cry again, but this time, it wasn’t because you were overwhelmed or frustrated. It was just the fact that Chris was… offering comfort cuddles. In his wolf form… in a form that’d make it so he not only wouldn’t talk, but would just be essentially a heated pile of fluff.

And you really, really appreciated it. Mostly because it made you feel like less of a failure, like you weren’t such a horrible friend after all.

Ignoring the fluttering in your heart, you made your way to where he was, took another blanket from the basket, and laid down.

With your head leaning on him, feeling him breathing steadily under you, you simply stared at the ceiling. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that you were laying on the floor, or just his warmth, but after a while, you started to calm down.

Your eyelids felt heavy, you could barely hear anything that wasn’t Chris’ quiet huffs. Eventually, he moved. You lowered your head to the floor for a moment while he took a cushion from the sofa and dropped it next to you, which you took as a sign to use it as a pillow.

Once you were comfortably laying down again with your cushion and your blanket, he simply curled around your body, keeping you warm.

You felt your heart swell, maybe even beat a bit faster against your ribcage, and as you cuddled closer to the big lump of fluff that was your roommate, you couldn’t help but mumble a quiet ‘Thank you…’ right before you fell asleep.

tagging everyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

@comet-falls · @princelingperfect · @notastraykid · @iadorethemskz · @kileidoscope · @maknae00 · @dundullresident · @vitrealisbunny · @yeetfellx · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @oiminho · @binchangf · @leedunno · @luxsonny · @mamieishere · @straylightdream · @bintificreads · @seo--changbin · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @ppiri-bahng · @letsbangchanblog · @fun-fanfics · @armystay89 · @iightsung · @cutiespaghetti · @noellllslut · @100layersofdaddyissues · @toplinehyunjin · @tartshearts · @biribarabiribbaem · @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad · @stayconnecteed · @floatingcoffecup · @5starlee · @ven-fic-recs · @poutypoutybin · @iloveksmohsomuch · @straydhampir · @svintsandghosts · @kim-hao-han

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan fluff #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏#brownriceocean #N.💄 anon #ask

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 8 days ago

Note

Hi RTA!

I saw a couple of asks stating (I'm generalizing here) that the bullying case might not be as bad as THE VICTIMS of said bullying said, and that everyone working for KP is useless.

Now, the hurt bullyig causes is not to me measured but what the bully did, not entirely. The most important reference you have is the one being bullied: the consequences of said bullying on them is what tell syou how bad was it. My bulies thought it was fun. I took 20 years to be able to love myself. You would not tell a victim of sexual assault that it is not rape just because nothing was done to serve them justice, or the perpetrator got away. That victim is still thinking about it. truste me. Bullying is very much the same.

Sure, sending you an email at 5 am is not bullying. It is considered bullying when you get mad because they did not answer the email outside of their work hours, tell them off in front of others and insult them. I am sure none of this was done in private or with measured, grown up words.

On a (uthopian, almost) healthy work enviroment, you are allowed to send an email at 5am if that is the time you do so. But it is the recipients right to ignore until they start their work day. I am using the email thing as an example. Mind you, that recipient read the email as soon as they got up and grabbed their phone, assessed the request, and determined if it was urgent or not. Most likely, it could wait. Probably most of what Meghan sent on those emails were things that could wait, or that required some sort of approval or whatever, but it did not mean they were not qualified for their job. Is reads mostly as that Meghan was not qualified for her job.

One more thing: when the bullying claims made it to Clarence, they were not ignored just becasue they were not as bad as the media (AND THE VICTIMS) said it was. It was boxed because of optics. Yes, optics. Charles was as always covering for Harry. Also, Charles and his team were on thin ice, knowing what we now know was happenning behind close doors with Meghan, Harry and their antics and treatment of the family, and I assure you, the possibility of the word "racism" being uttered at any time you were to rein Meghan or harry's attitude, was the biggest worry that family, that COMPANY, had. Becasue they had the conversations as a team, as an institution, the moment a biracial women joined their ranks. Optics. It was all about optics and the public's agility to get offended.

The insides of such a big machinery like the BRF are a mistery for most people. Sure, we guess and use our professional/personal knowledge to theorize. But some know more than others about some things, some know more about the players and some can read between the lines of a very well crafted media piece.

Sorry for the rant. Two clients got mad at me today because someone else did not do their job and I can't wait for it to be Friday.

Thanks for sharing!

The issue re Meghan's bullying of staff is that unless you've been through it yourself, you don't get it. I think that's the divide. For people who haven't had to deal with their own workplace bullies, they scoff and say "toughen up, this is what you signed up for" but for everyone who has been in those shoes, we say "what the hell's wrong with you all, no one deserves to be treated like this."

What Meghan did was far worse than 5am emails and screaming "you're incompetent" when someone didn't answer her phone call at 9pm. She undermined her staff's confidence. She made people cry at work. She threw them under the bus when she was caught redhanded breaking protocol. She played favorites. And that's just the stuff we know about. There's a whole other list of things she did that we don't know about - like the actual specific things she said to or accused of her staff.

I had a bad bully boss once. I was my department's star performer. I had customers who'd specifically request me for their projects and when told I wasn't available, they'd say "that's okay, we'll wait." I was the youngest person to receive my agency's highest award by at least 20 years and I won 'Employee of the Month' once a year. I was put on projects that had Congressional oversight and Pentagon clients. I worked with grumpy IT guys who would fight to be on my team and I worked with internal clients who said they slept easy when I was on their projects because they never had to worry about anything. I'm not telling you this to toot my own horn. I'm telling you this so that you understand I know my shit and I had a proven track record of success.

This woman, this bad bully boss, accused me of being incompetent. She told lies about me to other people in the agency. She would throw me under the bus for things she didn't do and got caught for it. She'd scrutinize my work products for 'gotcha' mistakes and complain to other managers that I didn't do my job. When it came time to performance reviews, she'd rate me at 2-Minimally Acceptable and every time I complained to HR, they investigated and forced her to rate me at 4 or 5 (exceeds expectations or outstanding). I once left work a few minutes early for a medical appointment after putting in months' of overtime on my project and arriving half an hour early to work that day to compensate for a slightly-earlier departure and she wrote me up for a formal disciplinary action accusing me of time fraud that her boss just laughed and shredded when he pulled up my time card because I was actually underreporting my overtime. She would scream at me for issues I had nothing to do with and withhold my PTO.

To say this woman "undermined my confidence" is grossly understating what she did to me. She undermined my confidence so badly that I lost my self-esteem and didn't think I was good at my job despite all these awards - she had me convinced I was getting them because it looked good for their diversity and inclusivity metrics if the deaf girl got a prize. If I went a week without crying in my car on the drive home, it was a good week and at one point, it was so bad that the IT guys who worked in the windowless basement and didn't have any feelings other than irascibile grumpiness were the ones trying to boost up my self-esteem.

That boss was so awful to me that when she finally left, it took my new boss about five months to deprogram my nerves to be called into his office without having a nervous breakdown and another year for me to actually believe him (and everyone else) when he praised me for my work that he actually meant it and he wasn't playing 'gotcha games.'

But you know what my team members would say, my fellow project managers? They'd say "I don't know what she's on about. [Name Redacted] is always nice to me and rates me Outstanding." or they'd say "I love [Name Redacted] - she always brings us bagels when she comes in late!" Do you know what everyone outside of my department, who didn't witness how she treated me personally or didn't see me falling apart would say? "[Name Redacted] is just doing her job. It's not that bad."

Reader, when the grumpy IT guys who don't like people are the ones cheering you up, it is really bad.

But my point is, until you've dreaded footsteps coming down the hall, you've spent Sunday night with your stomach in twists, you can't relax on vacation, or you break out in a cold sweat when you see their name on caller ID or email preview, you're not going to get what it was like for the Sussex Survivors Club. Until you've had employees or friends falling apart in your offices, your hands are tied because of red tape, and no one's listening to your concerns and all you have is your anger and process, you won't understand what it was like for Jason or William and you won't understand why William and Kate sometimes treat their staff gently or, to paraphrase other anons, tuck them in and sing them to sleep.

It doesn't matter what industry you're in. You can even be in the same office - heck, even the same team or the same friend group - and not be under attack the way someone else is by your boss or another colleague or your friend or your parent. Until it happens to you, you just won't understand how disappointingly this has been handled by the Clarence House and you won't understand how maddening and victim-shaming the "it's not that bad" commentary is.

I'm okay now. I've come a long way from that boss. Strangely, the COVID lockdowns and having to work from home 40/5 really helped me heal the most from her damage. I still have a bit of imposter syndrome but I'm working through it with an even kinder boss and an amazing therapist.

#brf #sussexes #bullying

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sofs16 · 1 year ago

Text

perceval shark

charles! fake photographer x singer!reader

HEY! i know that may sound alarming as he is a fake but its quite silly… i think… im about to write it so enjoy <3

— just finished writing; not proofread at all

yn.yln

liked by charles_jpg, and 10,484,393 others

yn.yln hi friends! im currently looking for a photographer to join me on tour for the next month since my cousin (usual photographer) got injured and can’t travel:( send me a message or email in my bio and ill send more deets:) thanks a lot!!! 💌

view all 2,484,393 comments

ynsphoto will she acc reply to like millions of people tho 😭

⤷ yn.yln i really am trying but my instagram dms are glitching now 🫠 my team and i have replied to most of the emails tho:))

july 31, 2023

— mail app, you’ve got 16,483 inbox!

INBOX

From: Charles Perceval >

To: Yn Yln >

July 31, 2023 at 4:18

Hello, Yn!

If you are still in need of a photographer, I would love to help out!

Though I have no real experience aside from taking pictures of my friends, I have a large passion for music as you do.

I hope to hear from you:)

P.S Here is a link to some of my work. Have a good day:)

All the best,

Charles Perceval

NEW EMAIL

To: Charles Perceval >

From: Yn Yln >

Subject: reply asap pls :))

July 31, 2023 at 11:01

Hey, Charles!

I’ve really spent quite a while being mesmerized at your photos and I would loveeee if you could come with us on tour this month!!

The notice is quite short but the schedule would be August 4 to August 28 with us circling Europe. Let me know if there’s any issues and we could work around it:)

Hope to hear from you as well.

All the love,

Yn Yln 🤍

To: Yn Yln

From: Charles Perceval

July 31 at 16:22

Hello, Yn!

I am so glad! There may be a minor issue but could maybe we could talk about it on Instagram.

Would that be alright?:)

All the best,

Charles

Charles Perceval

charles_jpg • Instagram

12 Followers • 83 Posts

Following you since 2017

yn 💌

i must say, the 12 followers and private account is very sketchy, perceval 🤷🏻‍♀️

Charles Perceval

Hello Yn! Why are you judging me on my followers 😂

yn💌

NO IM NOT

im just saying i hope you dont rob me when we meet in real life 😔

Charles Perceval

Thank you for the trust in me. But I would not do that to you😁

yn 💌

sigh.. i guess it’s my fault if i end up dead in a ditch… ANYWAYS!

are you free to meet tomorrow 😁

Charles Perceval

Where exactly?

yn💌

Where are you now?

Charles Perceval

Spa

yn💌

you’re.. in a spa?

Charles Perceval

No! Spa, Belgium

yn💌

that one was NOT on me! But perfect the first stop there is actually Belgium! I can go there if it’s not a problem for you?

Charles Perceval

It is no problem for me:)

yn💌

Charles, don’t take this personally or rudely, but how old are you?

Charles Perceval

26 This October

yn💌

alright! just making sure youre not an old man😁

Charles Perceval

Aw, thank you.

yn💌

my manager will send more details, thanks charles and see you tomorrow:)

charles.jpg

Follow Requests

f1babes + 5,383,292 others

yn.yln has requested to follow you. 1m

confirm | delete

yn.yln

belgium

liked by charles_jpg, and 8,018,382 others

yn.yln i may look fine but i have been hiccuping for the last 2 hours i fret i am getting a six pack

view all 1,198,292 comments

ynsbabe i bet if u turned it to a sing, it’d be a bop

⤷ yn.yln too emotional to turn it into a song

august 2, 2023

yn.updated

liked by 2,483 others

yn.updated yn.yln just landed in Belgium where she will be performing for the first time this Friday!

view all 318 comments

liviesyn streets say she went to dinner with a guy 💔😭😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ ynsday chill. she can have guy friends

⤷ author not this one 😅

august 2, 2023

ynshit

liked by oliviarodrighoe, and 16 others

ynshit NOT WHAT I EXPECTED EMAILING THIS MAN.

view all 10 comments

oliviarodrighoe cant believ u didnt know charles leclerc THATS SO SO SUTPID IM LAUGJGING

⤷ ynshit HE SAID PERCEVAL DUMBASSSSS

⤷lauflaufey if he said leclerc would you have known anyway😭

⤷ ynshit 🙂

⤷ oliviarodrighoe how did you even find out

⤷ ynshit HE TOLD ME BCUZ HE’S LIKE A SHIT LIAR (thank you very much)

reneewrap did you hire him anyways

⤷ ynshit yes… MAN IS RICHER THAN ME THO

⤷ oliviarodrighoe HAHAHAHAHAHA

⤷ ynshit fuck you

⤷oliviarodrighoe or…

⤷ ynshit STOP

august 3, 2023

charles_jpg

yn.yln has requested to follow you. 4d

confirmed | decline

— instagram notification!

• yn.yln has followed charles_jpg and charles_leclerc!

charles.jpg

liked by yn, lando.jpg, and 7 others

charles.jpg Thank you, Lewis for the camera 😘

view all 10 comments

lewis.jpg Anytime mate! yn yes, thank you lewis hamilton

[liked by charles.jpg]

august 3, 2023

ynswife

liked by 10,483 others

ynswife what do you MEAN yn followed charles leclerc on his main AND jpg acc which NO ONE ELSE BUT THE GRID AND HIS FAMILY FOLLOWS. view all 3,485 comments

ynsferrari bro has been liking all of yns posts since 2015 with that acc 😭😭😭😭

august 3, 2023

yn.yln

tagged: charles_leclerc liked by charles_leclerc, and 14,393,292 others

yn.yln belgium 🤍 got a special guy with us too

view all 3,696,607 comments

charles_leclerc Sooo excited for this month! ⤷ yn.yln bring it on, perceval;)

maxverstappen1 🎉

taylorswift Gorgeous! ⤷ yn.yln i told u guys that song was abt me

august 3, 2023

charles_leclerc

tagged: yn.yln liked by yn.yln, and 2,293,596 others

charles_leclerc London 😎📷

view all 583,797 comments

yn.yln youre so talented, perceval:,) you make me like my smile

⤷charles_leclerc Haha thank you, ynn. You have an pretty smile to begin with! ⤷ lestappen1661 I can hear the church bells

charles1166 no because the way charles always captures her best moments like the happiness in the first slide and how she’s literally a star on the 2nd 😭

august 6, 2023

FERR4RI.YLN

liked by 3,282 others

FERR4RI.YLN “you make my like my smile” “you have a pretty smile to begin with” OH ITS OVER FOR US

view all 27 comments

ylnleclerc MOM AND DAD

august 6, 2023

yn.yln

tagged: charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 7,383,494 others

yn.yln my turn to jpg 🤭

view all 3,585,922 comments

charles_leclerc Loving the first slide ❤️

⤷ yn.yln thanks!

oliviarodrgio ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹❣️❤️💗💟😘

⤷ yn.yln fuck off. f1rraris yn sitting with charles on the plane😭 his whipped smile😭 them eating together😭 the heart emoji😭

august 8, 2023

yn.updated

liked by 18,493 others

yn.updated yn sings unreleased song “slut” at monaco soundcheck today?!?! some lyrics :

• “got love struck, went straight to my head”

• “and if they call me a slut you know if might be worth it for once”

• “everyone wants him that was my crime”

• “i break down then he’s pulling me in. in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”

view all 4,586 comments

chleclercs bye. august 10, 2023

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 9,193,492 others

yn.yln monacoooo!!! thanks for being so kind to me and charles:,)

august 10, 2023

yn.yln

monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, and 11,737,292 others

yn.yln a day in shark lerklerk’s life

view all 4,697,922 comments

lewishamilton shark lerklerk

⤷ maxverstappen1 shark lerklerk

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial shark lerklerk

⤷ pierregasly shark lerklerk

⤷ landonorris shark lerklerk

charles_leclerc 🤦‍♂️

⤷ yn.yln💆🏼‍♀️

cru3lsumma entering gf yn time.

august 11, 2023

ynshit

liked by oliviarodrighoe, and 8 others

ynshit this isnt funny im ac down bad. ITS BEEN LIKE 10 DAYS

view all 6 comments

oliviarodrighoe MATCHMAKER ERA 🙋‍♀️

august 11, 2023

sharkie !!❤️

ynn💗

sharkie! wana dinner 2nite 🎉

sharkie !!❤️

Of course! Where should I pick you up? :)

ynn💗

my my what a gentleman

at the hotel we’re staying in🤷🏻‍♀️

sharkie !!❤️

see you:)

ynshit

liked by 11 others

ynshit HE LET ME EAT IN HIS CAR. …… 🙂

view all 32 comments

laufey oh she’s whipped! oliviarodrighoe LALALALALALAL HELLO?

august 11, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by 7,282,595 others

view all 1,201,833 comments

charlec11 the random an posting no caption is so bf

yn.yln wait. why do i look snatched here.

⤷ charles_leclerc You most certainly are ;)

⤷ f1111zoom HOLD TH E PHONEZ

august 15, 2023

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 15,393,393 others

yn.yln little ep out now:)

[ COMMENTS DISABLED ]

august 22, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by 21,383,696 others

charles_leclerc Might as well be worth it for once❤️

view all 5,707,707 comments

yn.yln thanks for the last pic, love 🧘‍♀️

yn.yln STOPP IM GOING TO MISS YOU FOR TOUR

⤷ charles_leclerc you could always come to the pasdock😘

⤷ yn.yln WAGGING HERE I COME

august 25, 2023

#f1 imagines #formula 1 #charles leclerc #social media au #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc imagine

321 notes · View notes

heaven4lostgirls · 1 year ago

Text

reconciliation (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader, billy russo x reader implied

warnings: angst, jealousy, kind of toxic?

summary: your conversation with steve has left him reeling to try and get you back, and you've just dropped the biggest blow to his chances of trying to win you back.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i'm really sorry this took so long to get out, uni has swamped me with work but here i am ig! maybe another update will get out during the weekend? dont hold me to that tho lmao

tags: @blackhawkfanatic , @buckys-wintersoldier , @witchychanel , @nicoline1998enilocin

part 1, part 2, part 3

You weren’t sure what you were expecting after your conversation with Steve if you could even call it that. It had been a couple of weeks and surely but surely you had started warming up to him again, it started with small nods in his direction as a greeting but that soon moved into small conversations. It had been a slow and torturous process for Steve, but he knew just as well as you did that, he was nowhere near even being able to exercise the ability to complain about his situation after what he had put you through.

The real heartbreak hit him when he realised, you’d been looking for apartments and job hunting, for some reason he had assumed that although you no longer joined the avengers for meeting briefings and were off the last few missions, you were just taking a break. Evidently, he was quite wrong, you had been spending your time responding to ‘work-related’ emails regarding a company called Anvil run by Billy Russo.

Now, Steve hardly kept up with any news that was not regarding his position as Captain America and very loosely he kept up with the NFL, so he knew next to nothing about Billy Russo until he was listening to your conversation with Tony in the kitchen.

You had walked in to make your breakfast and just as Steve and you had good morning to one another, Tony strolled through the open door on the phone with Pepper, adamantly in an argument with something to do with Tony’s public appearance at some gala.

“Pep-honey-, yes I understand but-“ Tony rolls his eyes and what Pepper says next and as you make your way to give him some privacy, he holds up his hands to make you wait and as your quirk an eyebrow, you lean against the kitchen counter waiting for the conversation to end. “Fine! Whatever you want! Just please don’t seat me next to that mayor” he pauses “yes! That one! He always smells like cheese” Tony shivers and you and Steve share a quick smile of amusement before you look away with flaming cheeks.

Tony hangs up the call and looks at you with a sly smile.

“Anvil huh?” he asks as he makes his way around you and Steve to the coffee machine, with a quick good morning to Steve, he looks at you expectantly.

“Oh, come off it Stark, I put in my two week notice ages ago, knowing Friday, he probably already told you when I applied” you reply with a joking eyeroll.

An automated voice floods through the system and you nearly jump out of your skin” I would never Miss Y/L/N” you’ve still got to get used to that.

“Anvil?” Steve questions tersely with pursed lips, you can’t tell if it’s out of anger or worry.

“Yeah! It’s a private military firm and since I used to be in the Navy, Billy reached out to me and offered me a position as his personal assistant!” you reply enthusiastically and through your excitement, you fail to notice how Steve’s face falls and Tony’s eyes light up with humour.

“Billy huh?” Steve’s strained smile makes you pause for a second before Tony snorts into his coffee and as you turn to glare at him, he shrugs innocently.

“Yes. Billy. He asked me to call him that because we’ll be working together” you reply curtly and fight the urge to lash out at Steve and let him know he has no right to be jealous because he no longer has anything remotely more than friendship connecting the both of you.

“Doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking either” Tony remarks and yelps as you swiftly throw one of the knives near you towards the cupboards right next to his head.

You shake your head and move to leave the kitchen before you turn around to the both of them and remark “I shall now be going to set up a meeting time with my boss if that’s okay with you two idiots?” you smile sarcastically, and Tony just waves you off.

Steve frowns as he watches you leave with an ugly feeling of jealousy bubbling underneath his skin, he glares at the counter in front of him before his anger is interrupted by Tony’s voice floating through the silent room.

“You know, you were her boss once” he remarks, after he had comforted you as you sobbed in his arms, he had been particularly harsh and unwelcoming to Steve even though you had spoken to him about Steve trying to work whatever your relationship with him was.

“I’m aware” Steve responds as he grits his teeth whilst fighting the urge to break the granite counter under his fingertips. He scoots his chair out as he makes his way to ask Bucky to train with him, he’s got some anger to work out and Bucky is realistically the only person that could handle his full super soldier strength pummeling at them.

You had successfully set a meeting time to go over your contract with Billy with his current personal assistant since she’d be taking her maternity leave in the next couple of weeks. Your mind had kept wondering to Steve’s reaction to you getting a new job, you understood his jealousy all too well since that wasn’t even the beginning of your deep-rooted jealousy and insecurities that affected you by Steve’s relationship with Sharon.

Still, you knew that it was no longer your responsibility to worry about his own emotions and how he coped with them. You no longer felt complied to comfort him whenever you saw his sorrowful longing gaze towards you whenever you walked into a room, or when hurt and pain flashes through his gaze whenever you referred to him as ‘Rogers’ in front of the others.

Meanwhile in the training room, instead of focusing on the hand-to-hand combat Steve had asked Bucky to help him with, he was basically interrogating his friend.

“What do you know about some guy called Billy Russo?” Steve panted as he tried to dodge Bucky’s jabs as he moves swiftly and quickly around the mat.

“Not much mate, just that he’s stinking rich for his age- hey! stop fucking jumping around like a goddamn bunny punk” Bucky huffs out at Steves insistent buoyancy.

“I’m just light on my feet!” Steve defends.

“Yeah, if you were on a fucking bouncy castle” Bucky rolls his eyes and winces as he doesn’t dodge Steve’s punch in time.

“Is he good looking?” Steve asks and Bucky has to pause to look at his friend with a weird expression. Steve just stands there with a serious expression and widens his eyes as if to say go on.

“Sure pal, the dude’s good looking, he was in that fuckin Forbes magazine for Millionaires under 30” Bucky says and watches as Steve loses focus, Bucky aims for his weak spot on his right shoulder and watches as his best friend collapses onto the mat, out of breath.

“What’s with all the questions punk?” Bucky frowns as he holds his hand out for Steve to take and as he pulls him up, he watches as his friend’s winces at the question.

“Y/N is going to work for him” Steve says and Bucky nods with a pitying smile on his face that Steve hates. He doesn’t want pity, he wants to fix this, except he doesn’t know how.

You’ve never looked better the past couple of weeks after yours and Steve’s separation, it’s almost as Steve was constantly sucking the life out of you and now you looked just as good as the first day, he met you.

He hates the idea of you going out into public and working under someone else just for someone to see what he once saw in you, now that he knew that you were unattainable for him at the current time but attainable for people like Billy fuckin Russo made him feel closer to possessive and feral than he’s ever felt.

“Then we’ve got work to do mate” Bucky slaps a hand on his shoulder as he maneuvers him out of, the room, chatting away about a plan to win y/n back. Steve is hardly listening and is planning to kill Billy Russo in 300 different ways before he’s even able to think about having a chance with you.

#juliwrites #mcu #marvel #billy russo #billy russo x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers hurt #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers hurt/comfort #steve rogers #tony stark #billy russo fanfic #biilly russo imagine

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heelluring · 8 months ago

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1:37 am — lee heeseung

when you forgot to sit on your boyfriend's lap

It was friday night, and not just a friday night. It was one of the rare nights where the two of you are completely free from all the responsibilities you had for the past weekdays. It was the night where the two of you will excitedly have your movie night, with non healthy food like chips and popcorn, or just a ramen gourmet your boyfriend, heeseung made.

He was in the living room, setting up your humble 'theater' spot, just waiting for you to finish sending one last email for work. Heeseung was excited, he was waiting so patiently with a small on his face. The lighthearted kids' movie was ready to be played anytime once you're ready. Heeseung look back to the room where you are for the nth time. His right leg bouncing from being excited, can't wait to just be with you. It didn't took long when you finally emerged from the room.

Oblivious at how your boyfriend's eyes lightened than ever once he took your sight in. How his smile widens than before. Shame on you for not seeing that because you keep your eyes on your phone to send one last reminder for your work next week.

"Okay, hee... done!" You took your own comfort beside him on the couch, tapping his legs without looking back, excited for the movie night. It's been five seconds and your boyfriend hasn't moved, thought he'll grab the remote and finally start the movie— he didn't.

That's why you can't stop yourself from finally looking at him, confused winning on your face. And, that confusion made more evident when you saw how offended heeseung look staring at you. His wide eyes looking straight, his mouth agape. He looks like a confused and offended fish, staring as if you grown two heads at once.

"What?" When the question came out, his eyes widens a fraction tilting his head as if asking, 'are you serious?!' in his own silly ways. "What?!" You dramatically raised your voice, giggling at his antics.

"Really? On the couch, Y/n? Wow, I'm hurt." When he sees that your confusion didn't seize, he playfully clicked his tongue, hitting his thigh timelessly. "You should've sit here..." Hit, "Here..." Hit, "Here!" And again, another hit.

"You had the privileges to use my lap as your personal chair, and you didn't take it. I am so offended, wow. My girlfriend betrayed me, and I am so speechless" The last sentence came out as a 'whisper', as if he's saying it to himself rather but the way his voice was loud enough to hear it convinced that it was a snide for you too. "I was ready, y'know? I— my... my legs were ready. It was spreading just for you, and you choose the couch?"

You unbelievable exhaled, eyes still onto him. He is so dramatic and silly, you can even see that he's serious about all of this. Finally feeling the weight of this 'issue', you giggled dragging your sorry's to make it cuter before smoothly sliding on his lap. "I'm sorry... hee" You whispered hiding your face on his neck as you hug him sideways, planting a smack on the side of his neck after. "I promise I'll always sit on your lap for our movie night. I promise!" Childlessly raising your hands, you successfully hear heeseung's laugh. Giving you a kiss directly on the lips as he hugs you back.

"Yeah, you should. I would not tolerate any mistakes in the future. You might forfeit your girlfriend privileged on my lap" Your forehead in contact with his as he whispered those 'threats' with his eyes close but a wide smile on his lips.

— Note !

a spontaneous idea when i saw a video about heeseung being the type of boyfriend who'll spread his legs for you. ODBSI I HAD TO TYPE IT SO HERE IT IS. still busy with school but i'll def edit this and write more once I'm free (might be on summer vacation). hope yall are doing great ❣️

©heelluring | 2024

#enhypen au #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #enhypen #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #park jongseong #park sunghoon #sim jaeyun #yang jungwon #soft au #soft hours #kpop soft hours #enhypen fluff

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darkkitty1208 · 3 months ago

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on fic writing and fandom: where am i going forward?

So. It's a bloody dull Friday and I'm writing this post--have been meaning to, for a while--because I can't stop thinking about it. It's just a few (a lot, actually) thoughts I've had in my mind the past few days that I've decided to spill into a single post, which turned out far longer than it needed to be, but nothing too important. Under the cut.

I've been a fanfic writer for a while now. Not a long time by any means, but a while nonetheless. My first fic--which is now orphaned like a few of its brothers for undisclosed reasons, though if you're an og you might be able to guess why--was dated back to the 18th of November 2021. 3 years later and I've got a humble 89 works and counting (the orphaned works and unposted wips unincluded). I can safely say I've improved quite a lot since then.

Where are you going with this, then, Kitty? Surely you aren't here just to brag about your writing progress?

Well. Not exactly. But I'll start with this: I guess what I'm trying to say is I've lost the spark.

You know. The old feeling. That boost of serotonin you get after you finish a piece you're proud of, or when you get lovely reviews on ao3, or when you get a kudos email, or a new mutual, or some wild tags under your silly post. The spark. I haven't felt it in a long time, now. The last time it's been so palpable was... I'm not sure. Probably last year's October. That was a lot of fun. I was most prolific in fic writing, that year. It shouldn't feel like a long time ago. Because it wasn't.

Don't get me wrong. I love all this. All that's going on right now. The comments I'm getting--even if fewer than I had before--and all the other interactions, I appreciate and enjoy and love them so, so much. And writing my newer fic projects are well exciting. But it just isn't the same anymore. I'm afraid it never will be.

(Maybe it has something to do with the lack of interactions lately. Maybe? I don't really know, either. I'm sure we're all well aware the fandom is past its peak, and with the current developments in the MCU I am frankly unsurprised, but I dunno.)

I guess that's part of the reason I've been less active lately. I've been inactive as a whole this year, admittedly, and disappearing far too often for far too long (and I notice some of my friends are, too). I just didn't get the same joy from being in a fandom like I had when I first started this blog, or my ao3 account.

In hindsight, I've probably been a little too dependent on fandom to provide me serotonin. The past few years have been hard, the years before that, too. Life just keeps kicking me in the arse time and time again. I guess I've been using fandom and fic writing as a coping mechanism, and once I've had my fill, the joy dies off to something a little more dull. Like a gum I've been chewing for too long that the sweetness has since worn off.

Honestly? I don't want it to be this way. I want to live without being so dependent on my presence online. I want to live without only knowing joy through internet interactions. I've got to learn to. It sounds silly, but it's true. (I think I may be slightly chronically online, oh no. x'D)

So naturally my first instinct is to distance myself a little. I contemplated quitting, but I can't do that. I don't see myself ever doing that, no matter how many times my brain convinces me that I might.

When this year started, I had set some goals for writing. One of them was to write for more whumptober prompts than I did last year or complete them all. I did like 21 prompts or something last year. Of 31. Within a little more than a month. While still balancing all the life stuff I had going on. This is, if not obvious, an extremely ambitious goal. I am not insane. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't possibly do that now, can I? Not with all the stuff that's been happening.

...

Can I?

...

Yeah, no. Definitely not.

See, that's another thing: writing. Probably the thing I'm trying to get at in this post but otherwise derailed completely from. Fuck my brain.

I'm sure many of you have noticed that I've been writing significantly less. I still post, obviously, but not as much as like, last year when the number of works I had went from a few to far too much. That had helped me improve quite a lot, actually, but those days I barely slept because I just insisted to replace my sleep time with Writing Shit For The Gays. It was pretty unhealthy now that I look back at it. My sleep schedule is still shit now but, yk. Some things just never change.

I was really, really caught up on wanting to be good at writing. Like, really good. I wanted to make awesome things. I wanted to write like a real fucking pro. Like all the more popular fandom authors I look up to. I want to be like the big dogs in fandom. It sounds so silly. I did everything; sprinting daily, setting a minimum of 500 words writing sessions every day, trying new writing styles, churning out works after works, writing for prompts and events and gifts and the like. I was enjoying it, yes, but was it really something I did for myself? Or was it because I wanted to please other people or impress other people for their validation, which is something I'm entirely too dependent of? Was it for the numbers?

Well. It was more for that than for me, I realised a little too late.

So yeah. Fuck wanting to be good. I want to write for the hell of it. I want to write something that's for me. Not what the majority of the fandom or other people want to read, but for me. Which is why I absolutely loved writing works like just a matter of time, how to kill a god, or how to become a god, because they're not meant for other people but myself. (Ironically that last work is a gift but, yk. I still liked it.) I know I joke about self-projecting a lot, but it's been seriously helping me rediscover the joy of writing that doesn't come from the incessant need to be good or perfect or focus on producing more and more and more. It makes me feel like a kid again. Also, I'm only realising this now but I'd rather get like 5 people who enjoy reading my works so much and express them to me rather than 100 people who silently thumbs up at me and then go away to consume another fic or demand more. (All this to say I still love interactions, it just shouldn't be my no. 1 priority to get them when writing fanfics.)

But yeah. None of those works are perfect. They're not meant to be. But they're mine. They're me. They represent me. And it's so, so great to feel that in writing. I've been so stuck up on being some sort of content machine. I'm doing this for myself, how could I forget? I've been saying this since the beginning, I don't know why I'm still struggling to do it. God. It's ridiculous.

Anyway. That's that. This has become a very long ramble. Thank you for listening to my Ted Talk. And for letting me waste your time, if you make it to the end of this post.

#ramblings #personal #writing #i doubt anyone would bother reading this from start to finish but i needed somewhere to just Say Things and Let It Out

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golden-ariess · 1 year ago

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Worth It

Pairings: Stalker! I.T Steve

Warnings: Lurking/ Stalking (Please do not read if any of this content is triggering to you!)

A/n: Hello! It's been such a long time since I've shared anything. I'm at work. I sat down this morning and decided to write this instead of doing anything at my desk 👀.

Enjoy!

(Steve just wants to see you happy after all)

Waking up an hour early would be worth it.

Listening to finance bros drone on and on about their latest trade, and how much they expected in returns at 7 am loudly in the buildings coffee shop was worth it.

Nearly spilling his own drink trying to make it to your desk in time was worth it.

Seeing your smile would be his special treat for the day.

Steve slipped into your office under the covers of the early morning hours. Making brisk work of placing your favorite fall drink on your desk before anyone arrives in your department.

The week wasn't kind to you. Steve watched as you received email after email asking you to cover for your colleague, who picked up a bug that's been making its way around the office.

To say you were stressed was an understatement.

Steve was worried about you. You were the first to come in and the last to leave. You hadn't even logged into your Netflix account to watch your usual shows. Steve was missing spending that time with you. Simultaneously putting on whatever show you decided to watch. He didn't feel as close to you this week.

He was hoping this hot cup of your favorite fall drink would help brighten your gloomy week.

He quickly grabbed a sticky note and scribbled a note for you. He had to get out of your office, but not before cutting your webcam on. He couldn't wait to see you this morning.

Friday.. you felt like you could see the light at the end of the tunnel. This week was hellish, but Friday, your sweet savior had arrived.

You made your way through the office flicking on lights, opening the blinds. Today would be a good day, you could feel it.

Moving briskly to your office door. Your mind raced, a long list already forming of a million things in mind to get wrapped up today.

Sitting down with your purse and keys. You noticed a large Starbucks cup sitting at the end of your desk. You reached for the note it sat on top of.

You grinned at the note. This was so sweet. You needed to hear that after this long week.

Taking a sip from the cup, the cool foam and warm drink met you like an open hug. This was your favorite drink to get when the season changed.

Angie must have dropped this off for you. She'd been your rock this week as you IM back and forth about the work that didn't stop pulling up.

The sweet drink set the tone for the workday at hand.

Today would be a great day. You made quick work to put on your favorite playlist. Sipping your drink, glancing at the sweet note and smiling.

You were ready to power through Friday.

Steve couldn't help the wide grin spread across his face. He watched as you sipped and typed away at your desk.

You were happy.

All he needed was to see your smile, that had been few and far in-between this week.

He pressed play on the same playlist you'd just made and got to work with his own task for the day.

He knew getting up early this morning would be worth it.

Hope you enjoyed this little drabble!

My writing is a little rusty but hopefully I can post more soon 💛.

#I.T Stalker! Steve #dark!fic #dark steve rogers #Dark!Steve #soft dark fic

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readerlovr · 1 year ago

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For Richer or for Poorer

Pt. 2

Pt.1

This past week has been the hardest I have ever worked. Growing up seeing my dad and brothers work, I always knew was difficult, but doing it yourself is on another level. So I can only imagine what the boss feels. It’s Friday so luckily it’s the last day of the week for us.

Although Mr. Beresford has two meetings today which I have to attend. As I am organizing my planner for next week, I get an email. It’s from one of the companies we have a meeting with saying they can no longer meet at 3, and can only meet after 5. I would normally look skeptical because the normal work day ends at 5, but Mr. Beresford stays in his office long after I leave for the day. Before I send the company a confirmation, I check Mr. Beresford’s agenda and I see that he has a free period between 5:30 and 7. So I gather my notepad and walk my way to Mr. Beresford’s office. Once I’m there, I knock, then crack the door.

“Mr. Beresford, your 3 o’clock rescheduled for a later appointment, so I put you down for 6.”

“Thank you, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I close the door as I go back to my office, and send the company the confirmation for 6. They respond swiftly saying that they will be here at 6. I mentally prepare myself for a long day after the normal work hours.

I wonder if Rachel has any tips on my note taking, so I decide to speed dial 5.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel I was wondering if you have any tips on how to take notes for the meeting. I have been taking notes this past week but Mr. Beresford didn’t seem to need them. But because there is two meetings today, he might need them to recollect the specifics the different meetings.”

“Yeah of course.” She gives me the spill of how she used to take notes, but she says Mr. Beresford did not like the way she took notes, because she wrote it in her own understanding instead of his.

“Okay, because we have another meeting after the one that starts in 15 minutes. And it’s after 5 o’clock, so I definitely need to take notes to the best of my ability. Or his I guess.”

“Get used to that.” She says with a sigh.

“What taking notes? Or staying after 5?”

“Well, both actually.”

“I have to stay after 5, everyday with him?”

“Well, yes. Haven’t you been doing that so far?”

“No, I have been leaving around 5:30.”

“Y/n, no. The assistant stays with the boss until he tells you to leave.”

My father has had assistants but he never kept one long enough for me to see how they were supposed to behave.

“Oh no. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know, he probably thought you’d just know given your father has a business.”

“My father did everything on his own.” I say curtly. I hate discussing my family and their success, the reason why I left is to start my own. So when someone brings them up, I try to be tight lipped about them.

“Also, it wasn’t in the job description.”

“It’s not, but it’s commonly preferred.”

I think for a bit. I feel bad that I possibly left Mr. Beresford to do everything alone. I never suspected I was doing anything wrong. Every morning when I entered after giving Mr. Beresford his coffee and breakfast, notes he took from the previous night was sat on my desk.

I look over at the time and see it’s 5 till the meeting.

“Hey Rachel I have to go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.” She says before promptly hanging up.

I grab my notepad and get up to walk down to the conference room. When I get there I notice Mr. Beresford and a couple of our staff is already seated. I quickly take the seat on Mr. Beresford’s left. Once I sit, he looks up from his laptop and smile.

“Mr. Beresford.” I say greeting him.

“Ms. Y/l/n.”

I look around at everyone else engaging in their own conversations. I scoot a bit forward closer to Mr. Beresford.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was supposed to stay after with you everyday?”

“I supposed you knew. And if not you’d figure it out eventually. Plus I’ve been used to-“ he pauses and looks back down at his computer, “working alone.”

Just as I about to ask what he meant the company we are meeting with walked in. Mr. Beresford stood up, which caused me to follow suit. We all greeted each other by shaking hands.

Once everyone was aquatinted and seated, Mr. Beresford walks to the other end of the table with no chair.

“Shall we get started?”

_________________________

I tried to take notes most accurate to Mr. Beresford’s. Mimicking his note taking style from the one he leaves on my desk every night. Based on the meeting details, I could give him the notes at the end of the day so I have enough time to tweak it if I see something unfitting.

It’s now 30 minutes until the 6:00 meeting. We had lunch at 3 since the meeting was pushed back. Although, I like to work better with a snack so I decide to go downstairs to the donut shop to get a donut and a coffee. After I gathered my purse, I knocked on Mr. Beresford’s door.

“Mr. Beresford, I’m going downstairs to get a donut, do you want anything?”

He doesn’t respond. After a minute of waiting, I knock on his door again, then open the door and peek in.

“Mr. Beresford?”

He looks up at me from his computer with a stoic look.

“No thank you. I am not supposed to be eating that stuff.”

I notice he seems a bit down so I don’t push him on it.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I am back within 10 minutes. I finish my coffee before I make it back to my office. As I’m walking back I contemplate either going to my office or Mr. Beresford’s. I decide on Mr. Beresford’s office of course. I knock on the door once again. He doesn’t respond like normally but I decide to turn the knob anyway. As I come in the room uninvited, he looks at me confused.

With my donut in hand I decide to sit in a seat in front of him.

“Hi.” I say before taking a bite of my donut.

“Hi?” He says confused. He continues to look at me confused as of to say, why are you here.

“What?” I question his confused look.

He shakes his head. “Normally people don’t just come in my office and sit down. Just to say hi.”

“Well I’m not normal people. I’m your assistant so I can do that.” I say with a smile.

He smirks a bit before changing his face to serious.

“Look. I know I met you before the job interview. And I gave you a well deserved compliment based on your looks, but our relationship needs to be strictly professional.”

What he said caught me off guard. I wasn’t trying to come onto him. Even though he is insanely good looking. I just wanted to start a conversation given he was so busy this whole week.

“Oh.” I say as I nod and start to get up to leave.

“But-“ he says as he sees me get up. “You can stay. At least until the meeting starts. We can walk down together.”

“Okay.” I say with a small smile. I don’t want to say the wrong thing because I don’t want him to think I am trying to build a relationship that’s not professional.

“So, why don’t you eat donuts? Is it your diet?”

He once again looks down at his computer. I know he was down earlier but I thought he was okay now. Before I was able to apologize for prying he answers.

“Yeah, it’s my diet. I actually haven’t had a donut in 5 years.”

“Really?”

He nods and looks up at me from his computer. I give him a cunning smile and hold up my donut.

“You want a bite?”

“No, I’m okay.” He says chuckling.

“Come on. It’s a bite. What is a bite gonna do?”

He looks at me for a couple seconds before he lightly nods. He motions his fingers for me to bring the donut closer. I stand up to bring it close enough for him to take but instead he bites it straight off the donut. My heart skips a beat with his held eye contact on me. As he pulls away I have to mentally tell myself to act normal. I sit back down trying to shake that hot memory out of my head. I look up to him and he’s still chewing. I wait a couple seconds after he swallows it and I’m met with silence.

“Well?”

He starts smiling. Like a real smile, not a smirk.

“That was really good.”

“See I told you. You just have to trust your smart assistant sometimes.”

He smirks and huffs out a laugh. I check my watch and realize it’s seven till 6.

“Oh, we have to go.”

I stand up and he follows after me down the hall. It’s just us when we enter the conference room.

“Where is everybody?”

“Well the staff isn’t required to stay after 5, so we’re just waiting on the company that we’re meeting with.”

We continue to wait for exactly 7 minutes before Mr. Beresford stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“They’re late. I’m leaving.”

“Wha- leaving? Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that.”

As he moves to walk out the conference room door, the company walks in the door.

“Shall we get this over with?” The man who comes in first says, throwing his coat at the woman who came in after him.

Mr. Beresford looks back at me before turning to the man who spoke.

“Mr. Johnson, we are not going further with this merger.”

“Why not? I put in a lot of money for this deal.” The man named Mr. Johnson says.

“You can keep your deal, and you can keep your money. I’m all about creating jobs for people. I need my partners to be punctual as well as considerate. Because if not, I know you will treat your employees the same way. And so far from what I’ve seen,” he gestures to the woman behind him, “you are not very considerate to your employees.”

I don’t know why, but that whole scene made me have a heartbeat in my core. My mouth is agape. I have never seen anyone respectfully decline a disrespectful person regardless of their money.

“Come on, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I immediately jump up to stand beside him. He puts his hand on my back as he guides me out of the room.

“You can see yourself out.” He says as we past them out the door. Just before we leave, I give a sympathetic look to the woman.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, people like that really get under my skin.”

“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing.”

He looks down at his feet as we continue walking together.

“Could you… come back to my office with me. I like the company.” He asks seemingly nervously. I smile up at him before nodding.

“Sure let me just get the rest of my things.” We reach my office door and he goes inside of his. I gather my purse and previous notes. I stay in my office a bit longer than suspected, checking and responded to thank you emails on Mr. Beresford’s behalf. I’m finished about 10 minutes later and I start to walk to Mr. Beresford’s office. I knock on the door, and there wasn’t an answer like usual.

“Mr. Beresford, it’s me.” Still no answer.

I open the door expecting him to look up at me from his computer, but he wasn’t there. I know he didn’t walk out of his office because I would’ve saw given that my office is right next to his corner office.

“Mr. Beresford?” I ask looking around the office. I notice that his chair is a bit pushed back than normal. I walk over to his chair to see why and immediately my heart drops. He is passed out on the floor behind his desk.

“Oh, shit! Mr. Beresford!” I kneel down to feel his forehead I don’t feel it being warm. I fumble for my purse to grab my cell to call 911.

I tell dispatch what happened and what building and floor were on. They had an ambulance out here in minutes once they found out it was Clay Beresford. When the officers get here, I have Mr. Beresford’s head in my lap so it wouldn’t be on the hard ground. They remove him off of me and put him on a stretcher.

“Be careful with him. I don’t know what happened.” I say with a shaky voice.

One of the officers that is not carrying him turns to me.

“Ma’am, calm down. We know how to deal with a heart transplant patient.”

Once he says that I am stunned.

“A what?”

“4 years ago Clayton Beresford, had a heart transplant from his mother after the whole doctor team tried to murder him. It was on the news for weeks.” He looks at me like the information he gave me was so obvious and everyone else knew about it.

“Wha-“ I can’t even process what he just said. As his assistant why wasn’t I notified of his condition. 10 million questions run in my head but I realize as his assistant I should be with him also. I find the stamina to get up on my shaky legs and follow them to the elevator. Once we get outside I climb in the ambulance after they put Mr. Beresford in it. I stare at Mr. Beresford seemingly lifeless body, and it scares the shit out of me. I grab his hand and hope everything is okay.

Once we get to the hospital, he gets put on an IV. And i have to wait in the waiting room while they check to see what’s wrong with him. I rock in my chair nervously wondering what I’m going to do if he doesn’t make it out of this. He was just starting to become my friend even with him saying he wanted a strictly professional relationship. As I am thinking to myself as Beresford was called. I stood up and walked to the doctor.

“How is he?”

“Mr. Beresford is doing just fine.”

I let out a long relieved sigh.

“He had a small relapse due to his heart transplant.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“We can’t be sure. With heart transplants, this could be caused by anything. Did he recently have any changes of diet, or exercise?”

I shake my head no, trying to think. Then suddenly it clicks.

“I gave him a bite of my donut. Do you think that what caused this?” I say devastated. I can’t bear a man’s life almost ending because of me.

“I’m sorry, but that’s a very real possibility. It’s the most probable possibility given that everything was fine until tonight.”

I look around and cover my mouth, knowing that I almost killed Mr. Beresford.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course but he’s resting right now. It might be a little while before he wakes up.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She puts her hand on my should in sympathy and walks me to his room. Once I go in I see him sleeping on the bed with 3 different tubes attached to him. I put my hand over my mouth as I sob looking at him. I did that. I walk over beside his bed and sit in the seat that was there. I grab his hand and wait for him to wake. As I wait, I dosed off to sleep still grabbing his hand.

__________________________

He starts stirring which wakes me up. I squeeze his hand tighter with purpose letting him know that I was here for him. He squeezed it back but his eyes are still closed.

“Mr. Beresford.” I whisper as I stand up to get closer to his face. He hums and opens his eyes. He looks around confused before his eyes land on me, shocked.

“What happened.” He says groggily.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shakes his head in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your heart?” I say before I full on sob right in front of my boss. “It was my fault, I’m so sorry.”

He looks at me confused still.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, take a breath.” He says and he grabs my other hand with his other hand. “What happened?”

“They say you had a relapse because of the donut I gave you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to eat it.”

“Hey. Y/n, I am an adult. You didn’t push me to do anything. I ate it because I wanted to.”

I am too hysterical to realize that was his first time calling me by my first name.

“Do you want me to call anyone?”

He looks into my red, puffy eyes then looks forward.

“I don’t have anyone.” He says softly.

I don’t know what he means by that but he’s gone through enough so I don’t push him on it. It seems like I’m the only one going to be here from him tonight. I start to sit on the bed next to him slowly waiting for any signs of his uncomfortably. He nodded for me to continue to sit, still having both of our hands holding. I look him in the eyes and my eyes start to water again.

He wipes my tears with his fingers.

“Stop it. It wasn’t your fault.” He says as he tugs my hands so I can go closer to him. He pulls me into a hug, which causes me to have to lay on his chest. I carefully avoid the tubes attached to him, not trying to mess him up further.

“I’m going to be okay.”

We stay like this in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I thought you wanted to keep a professional relationship.” I joke through a sad voice.

“Screw that.”

______________________________

That sure took a turn. 😬

#clay beresford x reader #clay beresford #x black fem reader #x black reader #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen

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sae-something · 2 months ago

Text

my extra strong PRN is working and I had 2 glasses of wine so I started rambling and spiralling.

(i'm not fine but i'm safe and just gonna go sleep now. sorry about this.)

I feel so broken. It's just fighting SH urges all day. Last week on monday, we hit something really deep in therapy. I don't really grasp the full weight of it yet, but it felt really, really big. I was overwhelmed, I told A what a young (traumatized) part was saying inside, and A helped me by holding her (imagination). She made a little bowl out of her hands and told me she held this little girl in her safe and still and calm and warm hands, and that we could wrap her in my scarf, and that all 'little girls like that' need is to be held.

And then on thursday we had the evaluation (with HT) and it felt impossibly and unbearably painful to not have any space for all that pain, for all the little girls. I emailed A on wednesday to let her know that I felt the intense turmoil inside about 'seeing her (and HT) without having space for all the pain'.

A didn't read the email until friday. So on thursday I was sitting there with HT and A and it felt like pure and absolute abandonment. To have to sit there with the two people knowing me (and all my parts) closest, and to not have any space for how I felt like a walking wound, like a vulnerable bleeding open wound. Some angry/defensive parts got really, really triggered afterwards.

Eventually A replied to the email on friday and it was a good reply. It made me cry. And I have been counting down the actual hours until therapy again. And then this morning she emailed to cancel.

And also last night I had a dream. My sister finally came to me and in my dream I felt a wave of sadness and relief - until I noticed that my sister could not even look at me. She was just emptily staring at a spot next to me as she told me: dad is dying, you have to come to say goodbye. I went there, and my mother and sister just ignored me. It was like being invisible. They were making me wait until I could see my dad. By the time they finally came to get me, he had already died.

I woke up and went to pee. Didn't have many feelings (some confusion about whether it was real; a few tears - then back to sleep), but it's been haunting me all day. Both my parents had so many health scares over the last year. What if something happens? Will someone notify me? How will I feel? What will I do?

And then I couldn't see A today. When all I needed was her. I've been calming myself down by imagining seeing her again. And now she's gone. And this week, precisely this week, I am going to visit friends in Belgium thursday til saturday. And only two weeks ago A told me she could see me on thursday (online) this week. But that's not possible because I have to catch the train sometime in the morning.

And now all of it just feels like it's my fault. I wanted A too much, so she got sick. I had too many emotions, so she got sick. I decided to not see her twice this week, and she got sick. I wanted her too much, I wanted her too little, I felt too much, I shared too little. I should have flipped out on thursday, would that have mattered? All I want is to hurt myself. Pain pain pain pain pain. Please. I wish someone would just hurt me already.

Sorry I'm getting more and more triggered so I'll stop writing now and just go lay in bed. Only 2 days of work this week - tuesday and wednesday. And then days with friends. On sunday I'll watch both frozen movies with a close friend. And then hopefully A will be back??? Obviously britney, mara and whoever else is angry and distrustful is growling "we're NOT going back" but like. I will. I always go back. I've always been the one to crawl back, begging for another crumb of kindness, another drop of warmth.

I am drowning in longing. I just want A. I want to be a child and to have A as a mother. Even if I'd get born again with a whole new life and I'd get another mother who would hurt me, I'd want it to be A. (I know how fucked up that is to write.) (It's just how everything is messed up. Love comfort longing safety --- pain sexthings terror - what's the difference? What's the difference? Nothing, nothing, nothing. It's all the same. The only thing that's changed is that I am now close enough to other parts to prevent them from emailing A, begging her "will you please hurt me".

Which is good but also means it's not even getting out anymore. Everything is just stuck inside. I'm so alone. No one has ever loved me and no one ever will. Please hurt me. Please hold me.

#sorry about this #i dont know what to do #i dont know where to go #i did so well today #saw two movies #treated myself to lunch #went to the library #but then i got home and collapsed #turned out the whole day was just postponing the collapse #i'll be FINE #like i'll go into the office tomorrow and be cheerful functional me #IM FINE FINE FINE FINE FINE FIIIINEEEE #personal #therapy schmerapy

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sjsmith56 · 3 months ago

Text

To Reach For You - A Private Man, Chapter 5

Summary: With Tracey’s return, Bucky amuses his sister with all of his efforts to make the house ready for her. The couple find the spark between them is burning even brighter.

Length: 5.5 K

Characters: Bucky, Rebecca, Tracey

Warnings: Minors DNI- contains sexual content, including oral (f/receiving, p in v) which may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18. I don’t write much smut.

Author notes: In this story Bucky is a romantic man at heart. Tracey’s calm energy makes him feel safe. He trusts her completely.

<<Chapter 4

🎶 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

5 weeks later

The physiotherapist watched as Rebecca lifted one leg then the other while she sat in the armchair. Then she placed her hands in Rebecca's and looked right at her.

"Okay, you're all warmed up," said Melinda. "I'll hold your hands and I want you to try to raise yourself off of the chair. It doesn't matter if you make it all the way or if you hold it for any length of time. This is just to gauge whether we've restored enough muscle in your core, backside and legs for you to raise yourself. It's all good."

Bucky watched anxiously as Rebecca gritted her teeth and pulled on the woman's hands then began to stand up. She made it about half way then began to wobble a little and sat back down with a look of disappointment on her face.

"I don't think I can do it," she said.

"You did just fine, Mrs. Proctor," smiled Melinda. "When we started a month ago you couldn't even move your legs and now you're lifting them from a seated position. You got up half way and that's more than good enough. You should be proud of what you've accomplished, shouldn't she, Mr. Barnes?"

"I think so," he said encouragingly. "I'm just sorry we didn't start this sooner. If we had she might have been walking by now."

"Well, thanks to Miss Harris you were alerted to the funding that paid for this and the aides," she replied. "Is it true several of your volunteers were able to get the aide positions?"

Rebecca nodded. "They were so good and did their own research on being a personal aide. All of them got their green cards to work legally and I'm so glad they were able to stay with me. Once Bucky starts on day shift they'll switch to day time as well."

"When does that happen?" she asked, glancing up at Bucky.

"Next week," he replied. "I got a promotion to supervisor and a pay raise. It will be nice to get a full night's sleep, except for when Rebecca needs me."

"Well, you've done an amazing job taking care of your sister," she said. "Not many men would give up what you have to do it. Were all 1940s men like you?"

"No," Bucky smiled. "They were pretty traditional. I am in some areas but I missed out on so much with Rebecca that the least I could do was be here for her."

Rebecca put her hand out to her brother and squeezed it, getting a smile from the physiotherapist. "Tracey gets back late Friday," she said, leaning towards Melinda. "It's been two months since she went to Belize. A mutual friend already emailed her to say she's expected for dinner on Saturday night."

"She's a lucky woman," said Melinda, then looked at the clock. "Well, we're just about done here. Have the aides continue with the exercises to build up your core muscles. I'll be back next Thursday and we'll see if you can stand a little higher. As always, it's been a pleasure working with you, Mrs. Proctor."

"Oh, please, you really can call me Rebecca," said the older woman.

"That's not how I was raised," explained Melinda, "but I appreciate the sentiment."

The younger woman entered the results of Rebecca's latest try at standing in her notes then packed up her equipment. Bucky opened the door and walked her out to the car, waiting while she put everything in the trunk.

"Thank you. It's good to see Rebecca looking stronger," he said. "Her appetite has improved as well and she's sleeping better."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Melinda. "You do take very good care of her. Good luck with Miss Harris."

He blushed and nodded. As she drove away he returned to the house. Rebecca turned the TV on to watch Price Is Right, while Bucky went to take some bedding out of the dryer to remake his bed. Even though he wasn't counting on anything to happen between him and Tracey he thought it prudent to clean his room and wash all the bedding. When he came out of the laundry room Rebecca smiled.

"I could always go sleep over at a friend's house on Saturday night," she teased. "You know, if you want privacy."

"Don't you start," he replied. "I get enough grief from Sam with all of his texting. I can give you ear plugs so you don't hear a thing. Besides you're included for dinner."

Kalyna came over just before 9:30 to take her turn, her last shift before the following week when she would do two day shifts. She was sharing the care of Rebecca and another elderly client with Samira and Amina. All three women were thrilled at the opportunity to be paid for something they had previously done as volunteers. Rebecca's nurse, Marie, had also looked into getting a ramp funded so the aides could take Rebecca out for excursions in her wheelchair. They were still waiting for approval on that. As soon as Kalyna arrived Bucky kissed Rebecca goodnight and headed for the docks.

On Friday, Marie came for her usual assessment of Rebecca, running through her blood pressure, lungs and heart check, and questions about her mental health. She gave Bucky a message from Tracey that she would be at the house by 7 pm Saturday. When Bucky walked her out to her car she put her medical case in the back seat then faced him.

"We're all fond of Tracey," she said looking sternly up at him. "Her divorce hurt her deeply and she hasn't had much luck in the boyfriend department. You be nice to her or you'll have an office full of nurses to deal with and we know a lot of people."

"Marie, I won't do anything that makes her uncomfortable," he said seriously. "I want a relationship, a real one. I'll be a gentleman."

That seemed to satisfy the older nurse and she took her leave. After she left, Bucky bustled about the house, vacuuming, dusting, straightening things up; all while Rebecca watched him with a small smile on her face. When Bucky was young she never saw him this excited over a woman. He did spend time getting himself ready for his dates, shaving, applying just the right amount of hair cream to style his thick dark hair without making it look greasy. His suit was always clean, with the pants and shirts pressed. He even did that part himself which amused their parents. Rebecca could always count on making some pocket money by offering to polish his shoes, knowing that he liked them shiny. At one point he noticed his sister watching him and he sat near her on the couch.

"I'm doing too much, aren't I?" he asked. "I've never felt this much anxiety over a woman. What if she met someone in Belize? What if she changed her mind?"

He opened his mouth to say something else and Rebecca intervened. "Bucky, I have it on good authority that Tracey has been just as anxious as you are. She likes you, a lot. You two are much the same. Both of you went through bad times and now you're ready for something good. Just be the gentleman you are and everything will fit into place."

For a moment he said nothing then he went to the bookcase and brought a picture over of Rebecca on her wedding day, looking at it intently.

"I forgot to wish you a happy anniversary," he said. "I remembered earlier in the week then all the preparations for Tracey just drove it out of my mind."

"Thank you," she replied, putting her hand out for the picture of her and her husband Harvey. "He wasn't flashy but he was devoted. Even when we found out we couldn't have children he never held that against me. We had 49 years together, good years. I hope you get some good years with Tracey. I'm sorry but I'm going to cry."

She began to cry and Bucky kneeled in front of her pulling her onto his shoulder. He hadn't meant to bring her to tears. Once again he thought of the things out of his control that kept him away from his family, wishing he could have been there for his sister sooner. Pulling his handkerchief out of his jeans he dabbed at Rebecca's eyes and cheeks, then kissed her on her forehead.

"It's okay sweetheart," he said softly. "I feel like crying, too, sometimes. I'm glad you had a good marriage. Something for me to aspire to. Tell me how did you and Harvey do it?"

Smiling sadly Rebecca sat back while Bucky stayed where he was, holding her hands. "We were always truthful, without being hurtful. We told each other "I love you" every day, many times. We had sex as often as we could. That's how we did it."

Bucky kissed her hands and smiled thankfully at his sister, his eyes glistening. "I'll remember that," he said. "That's a good recipe for a successful marriage. Why don't we go outside and enjoy that pergola?"

She nodded and he picked her up easily in his arms, carrying her to the back door and out into the yard. They sat in the shade of the pergola with some soft 1940s music playing on the patio speaker. Bucky made sandwiches for lunch and they ate outside, talking about their childhood, Steve Rogers as a boy, and their parents.

Saturday evening

Everything was ready. The stuffed chicken breasts were keeping warm in the oven, while the risotto was still several minutes away from being finished. Asparagus was ready to be cooked for just a few minutes so they were tender but still crisp, while the Caesar salad just needed to be tossed with the dressing that Bucky made from scratch. The plate of Afghan sweets that Samira brought that afternoon, including baklava, cream rolls, coconut burfi, and cardamom cookies had been hard for Bucky to resist nibbling on but he had stayed his cravings for the sweet morsels.

He wore dark grey dress pants, an open necked white dress shirt and a full apron over both to protect his clothes from the final meal preparations. He shaved as well, hoping the smooth face would last more than a couple of hours. Rebecca was in a dress, a blue one that matched her eyes. She even put lipstick on, with Bucky holding a small mirror up in front of her face so she could see her lips. At 6:50 the doorbell rang and Bucky went to the door, feeling his heart pound, taking a few deep breaths to settle himself. Through the small cutout window he could see Tracey and he opened the door. Right away her eyes lit up and he knew by the way she looked at him that everything would be okay.

"Hi," he said softly, backing up to let her in. "You look great."

She did look great, wearing a green dress with lace at the shoulders. Her hair was shiny, her eyes bright, and her smile filled him with that warmth that he felt on the day she told him she liked him.

"Thanks, you look good as well," she replied, stepping inside. She kissed him on the cheek then went past him to the living room, going straight to Rebecca and hugging her. "Hello, Rebecca. You look very nice tonight."

"So do you, dear," replied his sister. "That's such a pretty dress. It's good to see you back here, safe and sound."

Bucky offered her a glass of white wine and brought one out for Rebecca as well. Then he went back to the kitchen to pour himself one, returning to sit next to Tracey on the couch. For a moment no one said anything then they all spoke at the same time. With a gesture Bucky indicated that Tracey could speak first.

"I missed you both so much," she said in a rush. "I don't really know when it happened but you both became like family for me. I'm glad I'm back with people who care about me."

Rebecca offered her a hand while Bucky sat silently sipping his wine. When Tracey turned to him he gazed at her then leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek, a gesture that she leaned into.

"I better finish getting dinner ready," he said, blushing after the kiss.

"Can I help?" asked Tracey.

He nodded and they went to the kitchen, watched by a smiling Rebecca. Handing Tracey another apron to protect her dress he brought the Caesar salad and dressing out for her to combine. The asparagus was dropped into boiling water to cook while Bucky checked the risotto, satisfied with it. He took the asparagus out, dressing it in a mixture of olive oil, Parmesan cheese and lemon zest. Pulling the chicken out of the oven he plated their meals then carried Rebecca outside as Tracey followed him with two plates. Her eyes lit up at the backyard transformation.

"It's beautiful back here! You did this while I was gone?"

"Bucky and his friend Sam started it, with help from Amina's kids," said Rebecca proudly. "Then the pergola was put up with help from a fellow at the garden store. He and Bucky have become friendly. They've even gone to a ball game together. The announcer introduced Bucky to the crowd and they showed it on the TV."

"You made a friend," said Tracey, beaming.

"Jack's a good guy," replied Bucky, blushing. "We had the volunteers over as well for a pot luck gathering. Let's get the rest of the food and the wine."

They went back to the kitchen while Rebecca sat alone outside. As soon as they were in the door Bucky turned around, grasping Tracey's hands.

"Are we still emotionally involved?" He paused, unable to say anything more.

Tracey smiled and nodded, gazing at his lips. "Most definitely."

Their lips crashed together in an ardent kiss and they held each other closely, one of his hands in the small of her back while the other was wrapped in the softness of her hair. She ran her hands over his muscled back, then brought them to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body before she stepped back.

"You're hot," she said then checked herself. "I mean, your body gives off heat."

"High metabolism," he explained. "It's a side effect of the super soldier process. That's why I can eat so much."

A call from Rebecca interrupted them and they both took their aprons off. Bucky had a dress jacket draped over a chair and he put it on, drawing an approving nod from Tracey. Then he took the final plate and his wine, while Tracey took her wine and Rebecca's. As Bucky sat he reached into his jacket pocket, took out his cell phone, brought up a playlist, and began playing soft jazz on the patio speaker.

"This is better than any over priced restaurant," said Tracey, smiling pleasantly. "Thank you for this wonderful welcome home."

Rebecca lifted up her glass and looked at the other two. "Here's to a beautiful relationship," she said. "My brother, my friend, and me, hoping for the best."

For the next couple of hours they ate, drank wine, listened to Tracey tell them about her experiences in Belize, and generally enjoyed each other's company. As it got closer to Rebecca's bed time she began to yawn and finally told the couple she was ready for bed. Bucky picked her up while Tracey followed with some of the dishes.

"Why don't you let me take care of her while you put everything away?" she suggested to Bucky.

Twenty minutes later he returned to the bedroom to hear Tracey reading to Rebecca from a paperback. She read the first chapter then showed Bucky the book, Bedtime Stories For Adults by Peggy Hill.

"My first week in Belize I found it difficult to get to sleep and one of the other staff lent her copy to me," she said. "I enjoyed it and it helped settle my mind enough to relax and sleep. I bought this copy for you and Rebecca to read as I thought you would like it."

She placed the book on the night stand then hugged Rebecca good night. Bucky suggested Tracey wait in the back yard for him so she left and he sat on the edge of the bed. Taking Rebecca's hands in his he gently stroked the wrinkled skin.

"It'll be alright," said Rebecca, reading accurately that he was nervous. "She really is a lovely woman and she feels good about beginning a relationship with you. Even her ex-husband never made her feel like you do. Share your joys and your fears, support each other. You can do this."

"I love you, Rebecca," he said then he kissed her forehead.

"I love you, too, Bucky," she replied, squeezing his hand with hers. "Have a wonderful evening and I'll see you both at breakfast."

With an audible breath Bucky tucked her in, went to the door, and turned off the light, leaving his sister to fall asleep. He stepped out into the back yard and saw Tracey standing under the big tree, the soft glow of the white fairy lights making the scene feel romantic. Taking his phone out he changed the playlist to the one Sam helped him compile. It was only six songs, less than an half hour total of dancing. As the first song came up Tracey smiled when he approached her.

"I've always liked this song," she said, her eyes seeming to reflect the lights above. "Are we dancing?"

Bucky nodded and took her in his arms. Neither said anything when the song played; they just moved to the music, her with her head against his chest and him with his head lowered close to hers. Then a verse came on and Tracey sang softly along with it.

Will you stay with me?

Will you be my love?

Upon the fields of barley

We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky

As we lie in fields of gold.

"My answer is yes," she whispered and Bucky kissed the side of her head.

"So is mine," he whispered back.

As the playlist went through Harbor Lights, I Only Have Eyes For You, The Man I Love, and The Nearness of You they danced slowly to all of them. With each one she realized that Bucky truly had a romantic soul. It almost made her cry that these old songs revealed how sensitive he truly was. When the final song, Right Before Your Eyes began playing she looked up at Bucky, slightly puzzled as it was quite different in tone, although still a love song.

"That afternoon, while I had my nap, after you told me you were emotionally involved I dreamed this," said Bucky, gazing at her. "This very scenario, with this song playing, us dancing, the lights in the trees and the yard. I never felt like this before, not even before the war. I want you, Tracey." He looked away for a moment then back at her, his eyes bright. "I think I'm in love with you and I want to spend the next 50 years getting to know everything about you. Please tell me you feel the same."

Tracey smiled and chuckled lightly. "I have my own playlist to share. After you kissed me goodbye and I drove away, I noticed that you watched me until I was out of sight. I pulled over and realized that I couldn't be Rebecca's nurse anymore because I was falling for you. At that moment a song called Hungry Eyes came on the radio and I knew that I had to tell my supervisor. I am in love with you, Bucky. It was unexpected, and I'm scared that I'm going to mess it up but I want the same life that you do."

At that moment the timer on the power source ended and the back yard was plunged into darkness, lit only by the light coming from the kitchen window. Bucky placed both hands on Tracey's face then kissed her softly and languidly, wanting it to last forever. His forehead touched hers.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered. "Don't go home."

"Alright," she replied immediately. "I brought a change of clothes, hoping you would ask."

Bucky smiled, a full and glad smile that made Tracey's stomach full of butterflies at the prospect of being with him. He embraced her again and the heat from his body felt like putting a heated blanket around her. While Bucky turned on the light in his room she went out to her car and got her bag. He was waiting at the door when she came up the steps, then locked up behind her. Silently he led her to his room and closed the door, standing in front of it. Lowering his eyes to his hands Bucky spoke softly.

"Before we do anything I have to tell you something. When HYDRA put me through the super soldier process it changed me, physically. My muscles became bigger, my endurance greater, hearing and vision improved. Without trying to be crude it changed me in one other place, down there."

Tracey came over to him and placed her hands on his. "Whatever they did that changed it we'll figure it out."

Bucky's face coloured. "It's more than changed. It's enhanced, they made it bigger, thicker, and with quick restorative ability and endurance. I can literally go all night. I didn't want to spring it on you ...."

He groaned at his wording. Tracey smiled softly then touched his face. "It will be alright. Is the process also what makes your beard grow in so fast?"

He nodded, still embarrassed at what he just told her. She pulled his face down to kiss him then went to her purse and picked out her phone.

"Here's my playlist of songs that reminded me of you," she said, setting it to play. "I'm into older and classic rock and pop so this might be new stuff for you but it's mostly old stuff for me."

Hungry Eyes began playing and Tracey pulled her shoes off. Bucky slipped his off as well, then took his jacket off. She unbuttoned his shirt then watched him as he took it off. Gently she ran her hands over his chest while looking up at him gathering his dog tags in her hand for a moment, then turned her back to him so he could unzip her dress. Pulling her long hair to the side Bucky unzipped it, kissing her neck and shoulders as she lowered her dress over her shoulders onto the floor. Enclosing her in his arms from behind Bucky pressed his hips into her backside, while caressing her breasts and abdomen.

Her breath caught, making Bucky hard. Pulling herself away Tracey climbed on top of his bed, her eyes dark. She leaned back against the headboard, with her legs curled under her, watching Bucky, waiting for him to remove his pants. Undoing the top button he lowered the zipper and pulled them off, letting them fall onto the floor as he removed his socks. For a moment he hesitated then he pulled his boxer briefs off and Tracey gave an audible breath at the sight of Bucky, nude.

"You weren't kidding," she said softly, then she swallowed and removed her bra and panties, tossing them aside.

He climbed onto the bed and reached for her ankle, pulling her gently towards him so she was flat on her back. His weight and bulk captured her as he laid on top of her. The power of his physique was evident but instead of being frightened Tracey found herself aroused, her senses heightened as she became aware of his cologne that smelled like a fine brandy with leather and woody accents. His pupils were dark pools of desire, and she found herself mesmerized by his lips, especially when his tongue darted out nervously to lick them.

"So here we are," said Bucky, his face directly above hers, his voice at least an octave lower. "I haven't been with a woman since before the Snap so I'm a little out of practice. If it gets too much I'll stop if you tell me to stop. If you want to pause to get used to me just say wait."

"I trust you," she said firmly, trying to sound more confident than she felt at the moment, despite her anticipation.

"Are you on birth control? I ask because I did get condoms."

"I have an IUD," she told him. "Got it before I went to Belize, not because I was expecting to sleep with anyone there but I knew I wouldn't have time when I got back. I knew then I wanted to be with you."

His lips met hers with a burning intensity that made her whimper in her throat. Spreading her hands across his back she could feel the immense power of his muscles as they rippled under her finger tips. At the same time Bucky ground his hips into Tracey, almost bruising her with his thick hard cock that had visibly grown when she removed her underwear. His hands and mouth sought out her breasts while she breathed deeply trying to deal with everything she was feeling. Slowly his mouth moved down her abdomen until he was just above her pubic mound. Gently he pressed his open mouth into her and she whimpered, feeling a heat form deep inside her.

"Touch yourself while I'm down here," he murmured. "I like it."

She was vaguely aware that the next song Fire by The Pointer Sisters was just starting and she mouthed the words as she caressed herself. Bucky was gently mouthing her thighs then his mouth found her clitoris just as the word "Fire" came on. A moan escaped her throat and she writhed. Bucky looked up and smiled at her then returned to the business at hand and gently inserted a finger into Tracey, curling it against her g-spot.

"Wait," she gasped. "It's been so long. I have to get used to the intensity."

Bucky withdrew and laid beside her, caressing her body. "We only just got started," he whispered, "but I'll wait for you to be ready. You're so beautiful and you taste amazing."

"You have a silver tongue," she murmured. "Is that your old Bucky coming out?"

"Maybe, but I mean it," he said, shifting so he was looking in her eyes. "I thought you were beautiful from the moment I saw you the first time through the window in the door. Now, you're lying naked in my arms and you're even more beautiful." The next song started and Bucky smiled as he listened to it for a few seconds.

"I like this song," he said. "Who sings it?"

"Bob Dylan, it's called Lay Lady Lay," replied Tracey. "It's one of my favourites."

"Mine too, now, because I'll always see you lying on my bed just like this whenever I hear it."

He kissed her passionately, which she returned then she told him to finish what he started. When he brought her to climax she cried out loudly, then breathed emotionally as Bucky massaged her pubic mound to intensify the ripples of pleasure from her orgasm. Holding her close, he caressed and kissed her while she dealt with what she was feeling.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "My ex-husband wasn't much of a giver in bed. He said I was frigid and that's why he found someone else. I was just ... inexperienced, I guess. He was the only man I was ever with that I remember."

"Don't be sorry," said Bucky. "This first time together, we're just beginning to know each other. Are you ready to go on?"

She nodded and Bucky kissed her again. We've Got Tonight was playing. When it got to the line of "both of us lonely" Bucky kissed her tenderly and whispered they would never be lonely again. They both touched and tasted each other's skin, learning where the other was most sensitive. Soon Tracey was ready for Bucky to take the next step. She did take a deep breath then smiled at him when he took some lube out of his drawer and smoothed it on. Slowly he entered her and pressed himself deeper, stopping when she whispered for him to wait. When Bucky was fully in he kissed her gently.

"You're doing so good," he whispered. "I'm in completely and you feel incredible. You okay?"

She nodded. "I think so. It just takes some getting used to." He moved out slightly and thrust in again causing her to take a quick breath. "Still getting used to it."

Taking his time he set up a rhythm that soon had her making soft breathy noises that aroused him even more. When Tracey began raising her hips into him he knew she would be okay and he allowed himself to go in harder and slightly faster. The pressure was building inside of him with each thrust bringing him closer and closer to his release. It had been some time since he last came, other than in the shower which was never completely satisfying but this, being inside Tracey, was nirvana as he felt every one of her responses to his efforts. By the sounds coming from this beautiful woman in his arms she was getting closer and he pressed himself into her clitoris with each thrust, trusting that after all this time he was doing it right. The next song, Weight of Love, was harsher in tone to his ear, but Bucky found it seemed to help Tracey let any remaining inhibitions go as she returned his thrusts wrapping herself around him while they fiercely kissed. He was ready to come and whispered in Tracey's ear, hoping to spur her to bliss, wanting that for her.

"You feel so good to me. I can't believe I'm making love to a beautiful sexy woman like you. Let yourself go, Tracey. Let me take care of you."

He buried his face in her neck, mouthing all the soft parts of it then placing his lips on her ears so his warm moist breath filled her senses. With a cry, her back arched, and her whole body went rigid as the orgasm flowed through it. Bucky followed immediately with his own, emptying himself into her several times then laying on top of Tracey, kissing her gently, taking in her scent and the softness of her skin. When he softened he pulled out and shifted to lie beside her, sliding his metal arm under her so she could curl into him. The final song on her playlist, Wicked Game, was playing and although the lyrics were not quite about falling in love Bucky could see why she chose it as it was haunting music, seductively sexy, leading to more meaningful touches between them.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, but I'll probably be sore in the morning," she replied. "Thank you. I've never come like that."

"Get used to it," he said. "I'll take care of you, always."

They shifted so they could get under the covers and Bucky turned off the bedside light. He could have gone all night but he was respectful of Tracey getting used to him and his body, trusting him to treat her right. As her breathing sounds changed into something deeper and more regular he looked up at the ceiling, breathing deeply as he felt so many emotions running through him. When Tracey shifted to her other side Bucky put his arm around her waist, spooned behind her and breathed in her scent, committing it to memory. Before he fell asleep a thought occurred to him. This is what love feels like.

****************

Bucky's playlist for dancing in the backyard: Fields of Gold by Sting, Harbor Lights by The Platters, I Only Have Eyes for You by The Flamingos, The Man I Love by Ella Fitzgerald, The Nearness of You by Ella Fitzgerald, Right Before Your Eyes by America.

Tracey's playlist for the bedroom (she loves classic rock): Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen, Fire by Pointer Sisters, Lay Lady Lay by Bob Dylan, We've Got Tonight by Bob Seeger, Weight of Love by Black Keyes, Wicked Game by Chris Isaak.

Chapter 6>>

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