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#this woman made me physically angry
whoa-myninja · 7 months
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I never thought I could hate a character more than Erin Strauss, and then Linda Barnes came along
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agayconcept · 4 months
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just-rogi · 6 months
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#like I’m sorry#I love my best friend so so so much and she’s perfect and kind and has gone above and beyond to be rational and to be there for me#and I get it she’s an autistic woman and has faced adversity and has had to go on medical leave and that’s hard#and I’m not being dismissive of her struggles#but it makes me so angry because her parents unconditionally love her and her siblings and have always made her feel that way#and has never worried about money as a kid#and yeah her relationship with her parents isn’t perfect of course#but she literally cannot understand domestic violence beyond just reading about it in a book#like she did everything she can to understand and relate#but sometimes I want to scream because I feel so alone#because no one in my life fucking understands why I’m the way I am#and I’ve been struggling the past two months really badly with coping#I’ve had to go to the doctor to ask about PTSD and not like the tik tok OWO kind#but the I was in a car crash as a kid with my dad as a drunk driver and I keep getting flashbacks in my daily life to being a small child#that are impacting by daily life and interactions#and like I feel so fucking alone#and to hear from my friends ‘your right this is horrible and toxic but lots of people go through this’ ISNT FUCKING HELPING#I don’t want to hear that it’s normal I want to feel fucking safe in my bedroom without my mother blowing up my phone or calling the cops#I am unwell and I’m so stressed and I’m so sick and I can’t cope with this and none of the therapists I’ve tried to find handle ptsd#especially not therapists of color#I’m angry and I’ve been getting worse over the past two months#and not that it matters but due to ^^^ reasons my birthday has always been insanely fucking bad for me#like depression watch bad. when I turned twenty I was vividly hallucinating while walking around campus for a week straight having#flashbacks in class and I had to be taken out of the auditorium because I was physically unwell and couldn’t stop crying and shaking#and I told my friend I didn’t want to celebrate I just wanted to sit on her couch and not be alone and she fucking ditched me#because an emergency with a different friend came up the night before#like I have a history of suicidal ideation traumatic flashbacks eating disorders and self harm and I’m asking you to be with me on a very#upsetting day and you call me the night before telling me we have to cancel because another friend is having a bigger crisis#and like you don’t even feel a little bad about it??#I’m just upset and scared and I’ve got a doctors appointment tomorrow and I’m not in reality right now and that’s scary
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sidras-tak · 4 months
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Accessibility takes too goddamn fucking long.
My brother was paralyzed in October 2023. We got him home from the hospital (in Texas, when we live in Iowa) in a clunky old hospital chair. He hated it. He was scared and angry and in pain and his life had just changed forever and he couldn’t do anything for himself in that wheelchair. His first goal (aside from learning how to transfer) was to get a wheelchair. My family was lucky enough to afford one so we thought it would be easy enough. Nope.
We couldn’t buy him a wheelchair. He needed a prescription. For a wheelchair. A doctor had to examine him and declare him in need of a wheelchair. It wasn’t good enough that he had scans and tests showing tumors cutting off his spinal cord. He needed his primary care doctor to examine him during a physical and write a prescription. He was making 2-4 transfers a day, tops. He had no energy to get to a doctor. Home health was in and out every day. He had no time to get to a doctor. He didn’t get a prescription for almost a month. Then it had to go through insurance.
We asked if we could skip insurance and just buy a wheelchair for him. Nope. They wouldn’t sell us one, not even at full sticker price. It needed to be approved by Medicare. We ordered a wheelchair, a nice one, a good shade of green, sporty, small. It would let him move around the house. He would be able to cook, to reach drawers and get stuff from the fridge and brush his teeth and put his contacts in at a sink. We were told it would take awhile, maybe two months. Silently we all hoped he would be around to see two more months.
He went on hospice care on a Saturday in March. On Monday, I was calling his friends to come see him before he died. I got a call on his phone. It was the wheelchair company. They were about to order his wheelchair, she said, but there was an issue with insurance— had he stopped being covered by Medicare? Well, yes. When he started hospice care, he got kicked off Medicare. The very nice woman I talked to told me to call her if he resumed Medicare coverage so she could order his wheelchair. He died less than 12 hours later.
We ordered that chair for him in early December. Medicare didn’t approve the order until March. He was dead before they got around to it. He wanted that fucking wheelchair so badly. The only reason he had any semblance of independence and any quality of life for the last five months of his life was because the wheelchair company lent him an old beater chair, a very used model of the chair he ordered. If I could go back and change one thing about his end-of-life, I would get him his dream wheelchair. He told me again and again he couldn’t wait to get it, so that he could feel like a person again. He made the best of what he had with that old beater chair, but it still makes me mad to this day. He was paralyzed. He needed a chair that afforded him dignity. We had the money for it. And yet, we were left waiting for five months, for a chair that wouldn’t even get ordered until the day he died.
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queer-ghosts · 4 months
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some of y'all really don't care about transphobia until it affects cis people
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gravityofsouls · 1 year
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I don't know if it is my transness, so having been on "the other side", or simply my social awareness but I get so aggressively angry and upset when I hear men being randomly gross to women on the street, or on their place of work, or in general. Like I wish a car hit you violently. I wish it broke all your bones. I wish you never find anything but contempt and rejection from society. I hope you have the vaguest awareness of the fact you are a maggot.
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loveireandblog · 1 year
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When I'm tired + when I'm sick + when I'm drunk , every feeling that I am in some way disfigured melts away cos the other stresses get strong PLUS right this has been a thing , therapy realm fr but I'll keep it concise, since I was a kid before it got insane like from "wow if I get a cut...it bleeds. And heals. Like others?" (Throw in self harm )And now oh my god the delight in seeing myself get old I'm like woahhh me toooo???? Its SO weird lol. Disassociation but also just . Fracture
#So yes I have this odd energy that's cos right hear me out#...not normal lmao#I have HATED This pain but its involved Me just being like right . That's it.#Anyway yea weird how if ur treated subhuman u will do it to yourself sooo weird#My childhood ...there was a year I didn't have proper toilet access living in a freezing conservatory that made extremities purple#hatto is like I can tell mum and dad I'm gay they're liberal and I'm like Excuse Me#Their evil is within them...think abt how they treated me#Mum was so physically violent w me#They could remember and wld casually bring it up and then she'd get angry at me for telling them when I hadn't#And they ask her abt it now for their cohesion ...dani said a few days ago#And she denies it all...it was a) real b) happening LMAO#What is this denial and gaslightinh its fucking insane#It's like the rapes! i literally the rapes atleast and her precious bro ..atleast it had a bit more played out solid story n made me leave#All this residue I'm forced to look at I'm so tired#The woman threw knives at me and I have a mark on my eyeball from when she threw me n the door handle hit my eye#And ur saying she never hit- lol#And I CANT AFFORD THERAPY#THIS WORLD MAn#Why me#Gonna go listen to blaketheman1000#The way I don't care that harm is behind me but the feelings n reminders alongside my siblings I can't build up I feel so bad#Tbt last April then I went on those holidays 😫 lord#No ofc I can build up but I can't talkkk abt it#But it's their reality. Actively
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oceandolores · 1 month
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!
Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader
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"God loves you but not enough to save you,"
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summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.
warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.
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𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡
❝ to my love, Joel.
,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.
while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.
don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.
and don't worry about me and these green eyes,
baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.
i love you forever, Joel... ❞
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THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️
the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller
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MASTERLIST!🐇
Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"
Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"
Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"
Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"
Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"
Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"
Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"
Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"
Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"
Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"
Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"
Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."
Chapter 13: SOON
Chapter 14: SOON
Chapter 15: SOON
Chapter 16: SOON
Chapter 17: SOON
Chapter 18: SOON
Chapter 19: SOON
Chapter 20: ENDING
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read it on wattpad!
the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms
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ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵
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ohmyitsfaith · 1 month
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Little survivors
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader
Summary: Eight years later, you are visited by a very strange and violent lady, who makes a deal with Five to get you out of the post-apocalyptic world. With this comes the bonus of a comfortable life and a few calm years.
Warnings: The Handler. Think I said enough. Domestic life, but starts off with the Handler threatening people. Quite physically. Also in the middle it gets a bit steamy. Talks of pregnancy and birth.
Word count: 10.6k (shit this is long)
A/n: This was also a requested fic, as a part two to Little survivor. I tried to twist the storyline a little bit, hopefully you guys will like it. I like the idea that the Commission is a part of a society where everything is disturbingly perfect. Maybe I overthought this whole thing, but honestly, it birthed a kind of great story, so... Also, I was debating splitting this into two, but then the title wouldn't have made sense. Anyway, enjoy!
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As the days passed, life became harder and harder. But that didn’t stop you from enjoying time with your husband and son. Max was the cutest little kid and you really lucked out with his temperament being so good. He was the calmest little toddler, who then grew up to be a quite docile child. Sure there were a few tantrums, but in the end, he was a kind and calm little kid.
“Max!” you yelled for him as he played in front of the camp in the sand. He was now 10 years old and smarter than you thought was possible in the post-apocalyptic world. All thanks to Five, who provided the teaching material needed for him. With him working on the equations almost non-stop, it was up to you to try to get the best out of the material Five gave you.
You suddenly became aware of the deafening silence outside.
“Max?” you dropped the stick that you were using to light the fire for dinner and hurried out with your heart beating heavily in your chest.
As you rounded the corner, you saw a well-dressed woman, holding your son by his waist.
“What are you doing?!” you yelled at her, and, ready to save your son, you advanced toward her.
“Ah-ah-ah!” she held up her free hand toward you. “I wouldn’t come closer if you want this sweet little boy to live.”
“Mommy” Max whimpered in the woman’s hold.
You eyed him with worry in your eyes, then looked up, glaring at the woman.
“What do you want?” you asked.
“Just an answer,” she started, “where is Number Five?”
Your heart beat even more anxiously at that question. Five went out to gather more resources for the week and he was supposed to arrive by dinnertime. You were only expecting him around the time when the sun lowered beneath the horizon and that wasn’t til later.
“I don’t- I-” you stuttered.
“Don’t lie to me. I know you know where he went” the lady said calmly and you watched in horror as a small pistol was raised toward Max. “Now, where is Number Five?”
“Please don’t! I’m begging you, I don’t know where he is!” you pleaded, now on your knees. “Don’t hurt him, he’s just an innocent boy! Please.”
In that moment, the man in question turned up. When he saw the scene in front of him, a wild fire lit inside his heart. Not only was he scared, but angry as well. Who dares to threaten his whole world?! He dropped his gatherings and grabbing his gun, he ran up behind the unfamiliar woman.
“Let. My son. Go!” he gritted his teeth, holding the gun up toward the woman’s head.
“Ah, Number Five!” the woman turned around, smiling widely. “Just the man I wanted to see!” she thankfully put the pistol away.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked, still not putting his gun down, focusing fully on the woman, on every little move just in case she would hurt Max.
“Daddy” Max whimpered this time and Five’s eyes flickered over to him for just a fraction of a second.
“I’m here to help” the woman answered, still holding Max tightly.
“By holding my son hostage?” he asked, angrier than ever. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet right between your eyes!” he gritted.
“‘Cause…” the woman started, walking forward. Through your tears you could see Max struggling in her arms, trying to twist out of her hold. “If you did that, you wouldn’t hear the offer I’m about to give you” she said simply. “Which would be rather tragic, given your…” she looked back at you, “current circumstances.”
“What do you want? And be careful with what you say! My hands are quicker than you would expect” Five warned, his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at any given moment. He just had to wait for when Max was safe out of her hands so he could shoot the woman dead.
“I work for an organization called the Commission” she started her explanation. “We are tasked with the preservation of the time-continuum through manipulation and removals.”
“I don’t understand…” Five’s eyebrows pulled together.
“Sometimes people make choices that… alter time” she shrugged. “Free will. Don’t get me started on that… When that happens, we dispatch one of our agents to… “she searched for the right words, “eliminate the threat.”
This caused Five to harden his shoulders, keeping the gun pointed at the woman, ready to shoot.
“No, no, no” she put her free hand up, chuckling. “You misunderstand me. You are not a target.”
“Then why don’t you let the boy go?” he hissed.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet. I need your answer to my proposal” she smiled. “I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Five” she said. “We’ve had our eyes on you for quite some time. And we think you have potential!”
“What the hell are you on about?” he asked.
“Your survival skills made you quite a celebrity in the Headquarters” she explained. “The way you strive hard to protect what little you have and provide for them” she glanced back at you and then down at the boy in her hands. She reached out and caressed his head, which in turn made Five suck in a sharp breath. “That, and your ability to jump through time.”
“Don’t touch him” he hissed. “Tell me what’s in it for me? Why would I go with you?”
“You could get out of this place for one” the woman sighed. “And also go back to your family if you complete five years with us.”
“You… you’re saying we could be free?” he asked, glancing behind the woman, right at your still sobbing form.
“Once you served five years, your contract will be done, giving you a chance to retire to the time and place of your choosing” she smiled tightly.
Five thought hard about all that this woman was talking about. This could be his chance to save you, to finally give you and your family the life you deserved. He could live comfortably with you, have the domestic life you wished for and grow old.
“What about my wife and son?” he asked, which seemed to annoy the woman.
“You can bring them with you” she said and he could hear the distaste in her tone. “So, do we have an agreement?” she offered her free hand.
Five looked at you, lowering his gun slightly. You looked so scared, for him and for your son. He never wanted to see you like that. He didn’t want you to suffer. He wanted to give the both of you a chance at a normal life.
He looked at his son, who was sniffling in the woman’s arm, clearly scared out of his mind. The poor boy didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be so traumatized by this post-apocalyptic world, by this woman, who threatened his life. He should be better off, in school, with food to fill his belly, clothes that fit him well and a roof over his head.
He will do this. For you. For Max. For his family.
“Fine” he put the gun down and approached the woman to shake her hand. “I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful!” the woman lightened up, letting Max out of her hold and shaking Five’s hand.
The moment your son was out of the woman’s hold, he collapsed, his legs giving out underneath him. But in the next moment, Five reached out for him, pulling him up and lifting him into his arms.
“We shall leave momentarily. We have a lot to do” the woman turned away and walked into the little camp to sit down.
The second she was out of sight, you rushed to Five and Max and collapsed with the two of them on the floor.
“Five” you sobbed, your heart pounding in your chest. “Max, oh my poor boy.”
“Mommy, daddy” he cried, grabbing onto both of you.
“You’re safe now, you’re safe” Five tried to calm the young boy, who didn’t deserve all this. He pulled you in, close, so he could take in your features, making sure you were still there. “You’re both safe.”
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The first day at the Commission consisted of Five being dragged away for orientation and basic training while you and Max were herded to a room to wait for someone who would show you to your new house. 
You didn’t have to wait long: a woman with black hair and wearing a skirt suit opened the door. She had a kind smile on her face, and though she looked different and kinder than the other woman was, you still grabbed onto Max tightly.
“Oh, don’t be afraid!” she said quickly, her voice light and sweet. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Dot, I work a desk job here. And I got the honor to show you to your new home!”
Still weary, but slightly comforted, you loosen your hold on your son, who looks at Dot in curiosity.
“I’m Y/n” you decide to introduce yourself. “And this is my son, Max.”
“Oh, what a cutie. How old is he?” her smile widens, a soft glow flashing in her eyes.
“He’s ten” you look down at him, still clutching your arm tightly.
“Aw, he looks a lot like Five. And his eyes! They look just like yours” she gushes.
“Thank you” you let yourself smile a little bit.
“Now, I’m sure you’re tired and in need of a good shower. Let us get going then.”
You nod, taking Max’s hand in yours and follow Dot out the door.
“We’re actually not far from the housing, you guys got a pretty adorable family home” she looked back at you as you walked through the entrance hall and then the doors.
It was a sunny day, colder than it was in the apocalypse, but the air was much fresher here. You didn’t know what year you were in or where you were for a fact. But you were just happy to be away from that hellhole.
“Do you know if…” you started and Dot looked back at you, curiously. “If that woman… will she bother us?”
“The Handler?” she asked and you shrugged. If that was her name… “Oh I don’t think she will. She only cares about agents, so you and Max should be fine.”
“And… and Five?” your heart raced. Was he in danger?
“That, I don’t know. I would assume no. She is a big fan of his, so if anything, she’ll make sure he’s fine” Dot hummed.
“Alright” you sigh.
Dot lead you through a small garden that was the Commission’s and you found yourself in view of a village-like assortment of houses. There were some smaller family homes and then there were a couple of huge buildings, which consisted of apartments.
“Do other agents have families?” you asked as you neared the main street.
“Field agents? No, most of them are either alone or only have a partner, no kids. But many of our people in filing or some of our security actually have families. Some smaller, some bigger” she explained.
You hummed and looked down at Max. Maybe he could make friends with other children. He wouldn’t have to be alone. And you could also meet some other moms…
You rounded a corner and found yourselves in a long street, filled with family homes and a playground.
“This is the street you will be living on” Dot smiled. “If you go down the road where we came, we actually have a clothing store and grocery store, so you can buy your own stuff. A bit further from the housing area, you can find an elementary school and a high school as well. Max will be enrolled by the end of the week. You’ll receive a mail from one of our staff.”
“He can go to school?” you asked, your heart picking up pace.
“Of course!” she smiled. “Only the best teachers there.”
“Oh” you nodded.
“Well, we arrived” she stopped in front of a beautiful blue house with white picket fence and a small garden. “Hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us. Five will be here any time he is free or has his day off. But don’t worry, Mary, the woman who lives in the house beside yours, and her daughters Betty and Lily are excited to get to know you guys.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was great to meet you” she stepped back and waved.
“You too” you smiled and waited for Dot to disappear down the street before squatting down in front of Max. “Are you okay?”
“Yes Mama” he nodded and though you could see a little bit of worry in his gaze, he seemed to say the truth.
“Alright darling. Shall we see what’s inside?” you caressed his cheek and he nodded, gripping onto your hand.
You stepped up the few stairs to the front door. There was a key in the door, presumably the one you were meant to use later on. You took the keys out and opened the door.
It really was a small and cute home. Everything aesthetically arranged, the walls and floors in beautiful contrast. It was a wild change from the apocalypse, where everything was very yellow most days.
Across from the front door was a kitchen and dining room with a door to the family bathroom. On your right was the master bedroom, which was painted in a similar light blue as the outside was. To the left, there were two rooms, one the living room and the other a smaller bedroom.
“Look, I think that will be your bedroom” you pointed to the open door. “Do you want to see it?”
“My… my room?” Max looked up at you, confused. “I will sleep alone?”
“Yeah” you nodded.
“But… I don’t want to” the boy’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Oh darling” you pulled him in your arms. “You won’t be alone. We’ll be right across from your room. We won’t be far.”
“But at night…” he sniffled. “The monsters will come.”
“Your dad will keep you safe from them” you tried to calm him. “We’ll never let them hurt you.”
But Max was crying, inconsolably. You tried to think about what you could do. How could you help him? His sobs were twisting your heart and you felt as helpless as when the Handler arrived in the afternoon. Where you were unable to move, unable to help your little boy, who didn’t deserve all that. You could only imagine what was going through his head in that moment and now, hours after it.
“Tell you what. You can sleep with us for the first few weeks, okay?” you pulled away a little, looking into his eyes. “You can get used to your room during the day. Would that be alright, darling?”
“Y-yeah” he sniffled.
“Alright, now let’s get you cleaned up and some food in your tummy, okay?”
Max nodded, still rubbing at his eyes. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked into the dining room, where the door to the bathroom could be found. There was a shower and bath combination in the opposite corner, with some soap and shampoo. It was all neatly arranged and you once again felt that jarring feeling of everything being just… off. But you just took a breath and looked at Max.
“Do you need help or can you wash your body and hair alone?” you asked gently.
“I can do it” Max squared his shoulders, trying to appear strong and you smiled. “But…” he looked up at you. “Can you stay with me?”
“Yeah, of course. How about you take your clothes off and pee while mama goes and sees if there are some clothes in your room?” you suggested.
Max’s hold on your hand tightened for a second and you could see the conflict on his little face. But then he slowly nodded and let you go.
“Alright, I’ll be right back, okay? If you’re done, then stand in the shower.”
Max nodded, looking toward the bathtub. You quickly walked to the smaller room, leaving both doors open, so you could hear your son if he needed help. In the room there was a dresser and a single bed. It was clearly meant to be a kid’s bedroom, what with the wallpaper having dinosaurs and birds on it.
You looked in the dresser to see different sized clothes, both for boys and girls. You sighed in relief and grabbed two different sizes from underwear, pants and a t-shirt, not knowing which one will be good for Max. It’s been a long while since you saw new clothes and not to mention that you never had the luxury for Max to wear the right sized clothing.
“You’re in luck” you stepped back into the bathroom. “We got some clothes here. I brought you two sizes, we’ll see which one will be good” you smiled and watched as Max nodded, stepping into the shower. “I’ll help you adjust the water” you put the clothes down on the sink and reached out to the taps. “See, this has a red dot. It means it’ll give you hot water. And on the other side is a blue dot. It means cold water” you explained to him. “Hold your hand out, underneath the tap” you instruct him, kneeling next to the tub. “I’ll start the water, okay?”
Max nodded and squatted down, holding his hand under the water.
“Tell me if it’s too warm or too cold, okay? We’ll adjust it.”
With your help, Max got the right temperature and he - albeit a bit clumsily - washed as much of the dirt away as he could. You helped with his hair a bit, but otherwise just kneeled next to the tub, so he could do most of it himself.
“Alright. That feel okay?” you asked as you helped him out of the tub and gave him a towel.
“Weird” he said simply.
“I know darling. But now you’ll get used to it. It’s going to be all okay” you promised, drying his hair. “Should we see which clothes will fit you?”
Max nodded and so you picked up the smaller underwear first. To your surprise it slid on easily, even loose around his waist a bit. You knew that Max was a smaller kid then others his age might have been and that’s all thanks to the apocalypse. But you didn’t think he was this small.
“Should I see a smaller size still?” you asked him. “Or is that comfortable.”
“It’s okay mama” he shrugged.
“As you wish,” you sigh. “Are you feeling hungry?” you helped him into his pants and shirt as well.
“A bit” he nodded.
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do” you smiled at him. “Why don’t you grab a book that looks interesting to you and we’ll practice your reading while I cook?”
Max nodded and walked toward the smaller bedroom, looking back at you, to make sure you were still there. When he was reassured, he quickly went in and took a book from the bookshelf. In an instant, he was back in the corridor and taking your hand.
“Well, come on, then” you smiled gently and went up to the counter.
Max sat down at the small circular table, opening the book he grabbed. You watched him flip to the first page and looked at the words. He knew how to read, you and Five taught him. But it took him a little time.
“The story of… Doctor… Do- Dolittle?” he pronounced it slowly, then looked up for confirmation. You smiled at him encouragingly. “The first… chapter. Pudd-puddle-puddleby. O-once upon a time, many… years ago…” Max started reading slowly.
As he read, you started to look through the pantry to see what could be used to make a meal. You didn’t really know how to cook, but thankfully there were some cookbooks that you could use.
You always wanted to get out of the apocalypse, but never imagined what you’d do once you’re out. You never wondered about some of the simple facts of a normal life. Like how to cook. But you were ready to learn. Anything really.
You and Max spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. He read slowly, page after page and you trying to put a meal together for your little family.
“Y/n, Max?” you heard the door opening and Five calling out to you.
“In the kitchen!” you called back just as Max sprang from his seat, running toward Five, yelling: “Daddy!”
You smiled as you walked toward them, seeing Five embrace the boy.
“Hey, little crumb. How was your afternoon?” he asked. “What did you do? Oh and what is that smell? Is that your hair?”
“Yeah! We showered! And daddy, you know, the soap smells so good!” Max rushed out.
“Does it now?” he smiled. “Well, I’ll have to see it for myself.”
“And I read a book about a magic doctor! He can talk to animals!”
“He can?” he laughed gently. “You’ll have to read it for me too, son.”
“C’mon!” Max stood up and pulled him toward the kitchen.
“Hey” Five smiled as he reached you.
“Hi, how was the orientation and training?” you asked, reaching out to him.
“Boring” he sighed and leaned over to peck your lips. “But I got my first assignment. I’ll be going there tomorrow.”
“For how long?” you asked, worried.
“Shouldn’t be long. It’s supposed to be part of the training, with a more experienced agent by my side, so maybe that day? Or two?” he guessed.
“Alright” you sighed.
“You’ll be alright?” he asked gently.
“I will” you nodded. “Just be careful.”
“I will” he promised.
You sighed and pulled away, turning to the stove, where the food was finishing cooking. As you prepared the plates, Max explained the plot of Dolittle to Five, excited about the story.
“Alright boys, it’s time to eat” you put their plates in front of them, full of warm food. “I hope it’s good.”
“I’m sure it is” Five smiled at you.
Truly, it was not so bad. It was definitely better than what you ate in the apocalypse, which was a relief. And even though you cooked the normal amount, there was so much left after you finished eating, you felt worried. You knew it would take time to get used to eating like normal humans, but you couldn’t help but worry about your son.
After dinner, you heard the clock chime loudly from the living room.
“What was that?” you furrowed your eyebrows.
“Oh, they didn’t explain it to you?” Five looked at you. “In the evening and morning the clocks chime to signal the end and the beginning of the day. We’re supposed to go to bed.”
“Oh” you frowned. “Okay.”
“We’ll get used to it” he comforted and turned to Max. “Well, little crumb, could you show me which soap was so good smelling?”
“Yes!” he perked up and jumped off his chair. “Come on daddy!”
You smiled at the two of them before picking up the plates and washing them. You once again marveled about the way water felt on your skin. You couldn’t wrap your head around the day you had. It was so far-fetched and such an outlandish idea, that your brain couldn’t accept it.
“Mama, could you read a bed-time story for me?” Max came to the kitchen, forcing you out of your thoughts.
“Sure thing, baby. Would you like me to read Dr. Dolittle?” you smiled gently.
“No” he shook his head. “I want to read it myself. Could you read something else?”
“Of course” you smiled. “Let’s go to the room and see what we have.”
You soon found a book called “The Wheel on the School”, which Max liked the sound of, so you gave it to him and turned around to look for some pajamas for him.
“What are you looking for, mama?” he asked curiously.
“Some pajamas” you looked back at him. “You know, when you go to sleep, you are supposed to wear some clean, comfortable clothes to bed” you explained to him.
“Oh.”
“Here you go, son” you gave him the pair you found.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
“Will you wear pajamas?” he asked as you went to the master bedroom.
“Yes, but first I need to shower as well.”
“Okay…” Max nodded. “Will daddy stay with me until then?”
“Of course” you nodded. “Now get into bed, I’ll read to you, until daddy finishes showering.
Max climbed on top of the king-sized bed and lay down beneath the sheets, in the middle.
“Comfortable?” you asked and Max nodded. So you started reading to him.
When Five came out of the bathroom, he found the beautiful scene in front of him. Max, in the bed, lying sleepily beneath the sheets, fighting to keep his eyes open, and you, sitting in the armchair close to the bed, reading to him in a soft voice. Five’s heart jumped, filled with warmth and love. His little family, who survived so much and who deserved the world. The reason he was doing all of this.
You finished reading and put the book down, looking at your fast-asleep son. You smiled gently and walked over to him, pressing a light kiss on his forehead. Then you looked up at the door, where Five was standing. He was clean and shaven. You smiled at him and walked up to him.
“You look good” you said to him sincerely.
“Thank you” he smiled and put his hand on your waist, pulling you in. “I didn’t dare to shave it clean, so I left a little stubble.”
“It looks good” you leaned into him, putting your hand on his jaw. “It feels good.”
Five let out an airy laugh and hugged you properly. The day was crazy and he couldn’t be more thankful for your strong presence.
“I love you so much” he murmured.
“I love you more” you teased, pulling a bit away, so you could put your hand on his cheek again.
“Not possible” he smiled.
“Everything’s possible” you countered and then leaned in to kiss him.
He held you close, gripping your waist tightly. In the unfamiliar setting, he finally found something familiar: you. The way you taste was still the same, your lips reacting to his. He was glad to be kissing you once again.
“I wish…” you sigh against his lips.
“You wish?” he murmurs, not wanting to let you go.
“I wish we were alone now. If just for a moment” you finish your sentence, kissing him again. “But I need to shower and our son is lying in our bed.”
“Hm, maybe later then” he surmised.
“In a few weeks. He will get used to his own bedroom and then…” you smirked at him cheekily.
“Can’t wait” he smiled, warmth and passion glinting in his eyes.
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A month later, Five finally got his first paycheck in his hands. And he couldn’t believe his eyes. When they said that the payout for a good performance was great, he thought that they would pay him good. But not this good! For weeks now he thought about what he could buy from the first paycheck. He could get more groceries, he could buy his son some clothes that would fit him and also could be his own choosing, he could buy you a beautiful dress, like the ones you fantasized about in the apocalypse and… Well… the most pressing one in his mind was a ring. So that you could wear the sign of your love.
And so, without much thinking, as his hours were done, he immediately blinked to the street of stores in the city. He found the jewelers and went in.
“Hi! I’m looking for wedding rings?” he smiled lightly.
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You were in the kitchen, making a fruit salad when the door slammed.
“Max, I told you, be careful of the door!” you yelled out.
“Sorry mama,” he rushed in.
“How was school, dear?”
“Good! Bennet played with me in recess!” he beamed.
“Oh really? And what did you play?” you smiled and Max took a deep breath before he started gushing about his day in school.
True to Dot’s words, at the end of your first week in Temps, a letter arrived in your mailbox. In it, they stated that Max would join class 4/B, which is right in his age-group and well within his skillset. They also sent over some paperwork, essential for securing his identity as a citizen.
The first week in school was… trying to say the least. But thanks to Max’s good temperament, it became easier and easier each day.
Now, in the third week of school, Max was starting to make friends. The left side neighbor’s twin daughters Betty and Lily were also in Max’s class, so them, and now apparently Bennet as well, became fast friends.
It turned out that Betty and Lily’s mother, Mary, was working in a café on the street where the school was located, so after a couple hang-outs with the three of them: a deal was made. She would take the kids to school on most days, and when she wasn’t working, you would walk them.
Mary was also very helpful with understanding the town’s rules. The chimes from the clock in the morning and evening were only the beginning. There were also some other things like: lunch was strictly at 12pm, at 3pm you had to have a coffee break (or tea break for the kids) and chat with either your neighbors or your co-workers and also, there was a curfew of 8pm being the latest you could leave the house. You also couldn’t work into the night (the only exception being the night guards at the Commission building) and couldn’t leave your house before 7am. There were some others as well, but they were not essential to your days.
Now, after a month, you were finally starting to get used to Temps’ weird rules and even weirder people. Still, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief whenever 8pm rolled around and you could be alone in the privacy of your home with your husband and son.
“…And can you imagine? Bennet said it was such a cool game!” Max was still gushing about recess and you couldn’t help but smile.
Since he started eating more and healthier, he started growing. Not much in a month, but his clothes now fit perfectly on him and you didn’t have to fold the bottom of his pants up anymore. There was also a healthy glow to him, his hair becoming fuller and shining brighter. You were so glad to see the change.
“Honey, I’m home!” you heard Five call out to you and you smiled as Max’s rambling stopped and his eyes lit up.
“Daddy!” he ran to Five as he reached the kitchen door.
“Hi little crumb” Five smiled and squatted down to embrace him. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yes, the best!” Max beamed. “Bennet played with me in recess!”
“Oh really? Wow!” Five laughed, happy for his son. “That’s amazing, baby!”
“It was! And he invited me over for a sleepover!” he mentioned, which caused you to stop smiling and looked at Five, who also looked at you.
“Really? You haven’t said that yet” you put the spoon down into the bowl and walked to your boys. “Did he ask his mom?”
“He said he would once he got home” Max looked at you. “Mama, can I go?”
“I don’t know son, we haven’t talked to Bennet’s mom yet. We don’t know if she agreed to host the sleepover” you sighed and you could see Max’s face fall.
“Tell you what. If they show up, we’ll talk about it” Five tried to reassure the boy, but it didn't help much. He pulled away from both of you and turned to walk down the hall and into his bedroom.
You sighed again, sad to see your son so sad. Five stood up and you could see that he shared that compliment. But there truly was nothing you could do.
So you went back to mixing the fruit bowl together and Five went back to the door so he could take his shoes off before joining you in the kitchen.
“So, how was work today?” you asked.
“It was… fine” he shrugged. “I got my first pay-check.”
“Oh, yeah?” you looked up at him.
“Yeah and, I was surprised to say the least” Five sighed and got the paper out of his suit pocket. “Look at this” he walked up to you and showed you the paper. You almost dropped the bowl from your hands.
“What?!” you asked. “Is that real?”
“Apparently so” he nodded.
“Oh my God…” you blinked, looking up at him. “What do we even do with all that…”
“I don’t know” he sighed. “Well… this months’ I know, because I-”
But at that moment there was a knock from the door. You and Five looked at each other before walking up to the door. Through the glass, you could see a woman standing there. You looked at Five again before opening the door.
“Good afternoon” she greeted.
“Good afternoon” you greeted back with Five. “What can we help you with?”
“Oh my son, Bennet came home from school saying he wanted to invite Max around for a sleepover” she smiled.
“Oh, you must be Sharon!” you smiled at her. “I’m Y/n, and this is Five, my husband.”
Bennet peeked out from behind her and looked up at you.
“Good afternoon” he said shyly.
“Hi, Bennet” you smiled at him as well, then looked up at Sharon. “Would you like some fruit salad? I just finished making it.”
“Thank you so much” she nodded and followed you inside.
“Five, would you be so kind and tell Max that his friend is here?” you looked at him and he nodded. You reached up to take five small bowls out and turned back to Bennet and Sharon. “Bennet, a fruit salad?”
“Yes, thank you” he said just in time when Max came bounding out of the room.
“Bennet!” he shouted happily. “Good afternoon Mrs Meyer.”
“Hi Max” she smiled and let the boys sit together.
“Sharon, a fruit salad?” you looked at her.
“Thank you, I’ll take one” she agreed and you put some of the fruit salad in her bowl as well before placing it in front of the two guests.
“Max, Five?” you asked.
“Yes, thank you mama!” Max agreed loudly, while Five just nodded.
“Here you go, boys” you gave one to each of them. “So, Sharon. You were saying?”
“Bennet wanted Max over for a sleepover” she started. “I have no objections to Max spending the night if you are okay with it as well.”
“Yes, we…” Five started before rethinking his choice of words. “What I mean is, as you know Max had a difficult time adjusting to being away from us at night. We don’t wish to give you any trouble, should he get scared and decide that being houses away from us is too much.”
“I promise daddy, I won’t!” Max immediately said. “I’ll be good!”
“I have no doubt about that, sweetheart. We just don’t want you to feel scared.”
“But mama…” he looked at you sadly.
“How about we put down some ground rules?” Sharon suggested.
“What do you suggest?” Five asked.
So in over an hour, you talked it all out. You agreed that she could take the boys and there wouldn’t be a word about disobeying the Meyer parents’ words. If that would happen, they couldn’t go over to the other’s house for a week. The boys thought that over and then agreed.
“Max, come with me, we’ll put your clothes together” you told your son.
He eagerly followed you to his room, jumping around as he watched you grab a bag from the top of the dresser. You told him what to grab and he rushed to find it and give it to you. You neatly folded them into his overnight bag and once everything was in, you zipped it in and grabbed his hands.
“Listen son, this is the first time you’ll be away from us at night” you started. “But I want you to enjoy this. If you find yourself afraid, remember: mommy and daddy will always protect you. There’s nothing that can harm you” you told him and he nodded slowly. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, mama” he smiled and let you pull him in for a hug. You pressed a kiss to his head and smiled at him.
“Alright,” you stood up and walked out with him to the kitchen. “We’re ready.”
“Well, thank you so much for the fruit salad, it was really good” Sharon stood up, Bennet coming up beside her.
“Yes, thank you Mrs. Hargreeves!” he beamed.
“You’re very welcome. And Sharon, thank you so much for letting the boys have this sleepover. If this goes well, the next one is on us.”
Sharon nodded and herded the boys outside. You stopped in the doorway and Five came up to hug you from behind. You watched as Bennet and Max excitedly chattered, happy to spend time together. Five pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder as you sighed, filled with worry.
Though Max looked engrossed in his conversation with Bennet, he thankfully looked back at you two and waved goodbye. You forced a smile and waved back. You stayed out until the Meyers’ car disappeared from view and then Five gently led you back inside.
“It’s going to be okay, my love” he said gently, hand around your waist and his other hand leading you. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know” you sighed, sitting on the couch with him. “I’m just worried.”
“I know, darling” he pulled you in his arms, holding you close. “But look at the bright side.”
“Which is?”
“He felt up to going. Remember the first week? He couldn’t even let you go to the bathroom alone. Now he’s finally healing” he explained.
“You’re right” you nodded. “Still, it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”
“And it doesn’t have to. You’re his mom, of course you worry about him” he reassured you. “How about I take your mind off of it?”
“What do you have in mind?” you looked at him.
“Remember our wedding?” he pulled a bit away from you and turned you to face him.
“How could I forget?” you smiled.
“Well, we’ve been married for… about fifteen years.”
“Yeah?” you blinked. “It’s been that long?”
“Yeah” he chuckled. “And I finally bought the one missing thing from that day.”
“You did?” your heart picked up speed.
“I did” he pulled the box out of his pocket. “It’s not exactly what I imagined… and I wish we could’ve chosen it together, but… I just wanted to surprise you” he opened the box and the sight of the two golden rings in it made tears spring in your eyes.
“Oh Five” you sobbed, reaching a shaky hand out to cover his own.
“Do you like it?” he asked, slight worry in his eyes.
“They’re perfect” you sniffled, smiling through your tears. “God, they’re so perfect.
“I’m glad you think so” he smiled sweetly and reached into the box, picking up the smaller ring. “May I?” he asked, holding his free hand out.
You nodded and offered him your right hand. He pulled it on your finger, then raised it up to kiss it. You sniffled as he reached his hands out to wipe your fingers.
“My beautiful bride, the gorgeous mother of my child” he murmured. “Thank you so much for staying with me.”
You sniffled, trying to keep your sobs and tears in. You reached shakily for the other ring and took Five’s right hand in yours.
“You’re the love of my life” you whispered, not trusting your voice. “I love you so much” you pushed the ring up on his ring finger gently, putting your own right hand next to it. “I can’t believe we finally have these…”
“I couldn’t be happier” Five turned his right hand and took your hand, caressing your knuckles.
“I’m so happy” you agreed, wiping your tears and looking up at him. “Thank you. For everything you do for us.”
“I love you” he replied.
“I love you too” and finally Five leaned in and kissed you.
It was so soft, so full of love, you couldn’t comprehend how there could be so much love. But you just pulled him closer, your hand going up to his soft hair, grabbing a fistful of it. His hands went to your waist and pulled you in his lap oh so gently.
“Five…” you breathed into his mouth, trying to convey the message you couldn’t form with words.
“Y/n…” he sighed, pulling your lips back on his, while guiding his hand holding your waist down to your ass, so in the next moment he could stand up with you in his arms.
You yelped, but then you were back to kissing him, letting his tongue in your mouth as he walked with you toward your bedroom. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing your bodies together. You were in the bedroom quicker than you could’ve imagined, the door slamming shut behind you.
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The sixth month of your stay at Temps became a huge deal. Not only was it a really long time that you could stay in one place and be perfectly comfortable, but also it became a big milestone in your lives.
Around the fourth month of staying in Temps, you found out something really big. Like huge. It wasn’t something you were expecting or hoping for, but you were still really happy. You still remember talking about this with Five.
“So… uh, Five?” you started the conversation one night after you put Max down to sleep.
“Yeah?” he looked at you, climbing into bed and pulling you in close.
“You know when we were talking about Max, way back when…” you tried to find the right words.
“Back when…” he tried to urge you on with your explanation. “In the apocalypse?”
“Yeah…” you nodded into his shoulder, trying to contain your anxiety mixed with excitement. “Specifically when he was just a little toddler.”
“Hm, still not sure which conversation you refer to” he hummed.
“Well it wasn’t just that one time we talked about this. But that was the first time. Actually we talked a lot about this, all things considered” you explained vaguely.
“Is it about his normal life?” he asked.
“No- well partly” you agreed.
“So… what is it, Y/n?” he caressed your shoulder.
“Okay, okay” you got up suddenly, kneeling beside him. “So… things have been going better for us, right?”
“Yeah” he nodded, turning to his side to look at you properly.
“And we’re no longer in the apocalypse…”
“Thankfully.”
“And, well… I know it’s a bit late and Max is so old now, but…” you stopped for a second, not sure if Five will be happy.
“But…?” he was holding his breath now, you could tell.
“I’m- I’m pregnant” you finally blurted it out.
For a moment there was silence. You could see the wheels turning in Five’s head. Then he was up on his knees as well.
“Are you serious?” he asked, shocked.
“Y-yeah” you nodded, afraid of his reaction.
“You’re really, really serious?” he grabbed onto your hands.
“Yes. Are you-” but you couldn’t even finish your question because Five grabbed you by your sides, pulling you close and squeezing you.
“You’re really pregnant” he whispered, though you couldn’t decide whether it was a question or a statement.
“Yeah” you whispered back, still a little confused about his reaction being happy or not so much.
“Oh my God…” he breathed out and that’s when you became aware of his shaking body and the sudden wetness at your neck, where Five buried his head.
You finally smiled and let yourself get lost in Five’s warm embrace and pure love.
And since then you tried to figure out Max’s stance on siblings. You haven’t popped yet, so you could hide it from him, even if that made you feel bad. You never really had secrets in front of Max, especially not big ones that concerned his future as well.
But you heard enough horror stories about kids reacting badly about a new addition to the family before, so you wanted to be prepared. You didn’t want Max to feel like he’s loved less just because there will be a baby in the house. And though you didn’t ask him right out about siblings, there were a number of ways you deduced whether or not Max was ready for a baby sibling.
Today, you noticed in the morning, while you were getting dressed, that your stomach seemed a lot… bigger. It took only a second to realize what happened: you popped. So it was time.
By some twist of fate, it was Five’s day off. And so, immediately as you noticed, you stalked out into the kitchen, where he prepared morning coffee and breakfast.
“Five” you whispered. It was still early in the morning and you didn’t want to wake Max up.
“Yes, my love?” he asked, looking up from his book.
“I popped!” you smile at him, turning to the side, so he could see the big change in your figure.
“Oh my God!” he put his book down, eyes filled with wonder. “You really did!”
He stood up from his seat and walked to you, so he could caress over the bulge of your stomach. You were looking up at his face, seeing him so focused on your belly, eyes full of wonder and love.
“You’re so amazing” he whispered, his free hand going around your waist and pulling you close.
“No, you are” you smiled, lifting his chin with a hand. “Without your hard work, we wouldn’t be here, safe. But thanks to you, Max could heal, we could build a life and also,” you put your hand on his, that was still caressing your baby bump, “expand our little family.”
Five smiled at you gratefully, then leaned in to kiss your lips sweetly. He pulled your robes in again, when he suddenly heard shifting from Max’s room and smiled at you encouragingly.
“Today’s the day.”
“Yeah” you sighed and sat down at the table, grabbing one toast from the pile.
The next moment, Max’s door opened and your son stumbled out, completely out of it from sleep. You smiled at his sleepy face and the way he sluggishly walked toward you and Five.
“Hey there, little crumb” Five smiled, embracing his son when he reached him. “How did you sleep?”
The only answer was a little grunt, which made both Five and you giggle lightly. Contrary to you and Five, Max was not a morning bird. While both you and Five got out of bed easily in the mornings, on most days you had to practically drag your son out.
“Darling, come, there is breakfast here for you” you said gently and pulled a chair out for your son to sit down on. “How about some milk, would you like some?”
Max nodded slowly and sat down next to you. You got up to grab the milk, pouring some for the young boy.
“Here you go” you smiled at him.
Breakfast went by in silence, Max waking up more and more as he ate. Soon, he was starting to chit-chat about the weekend and how you could go to the playground.
“We can, right?” he looked at the two of you and you shared a look with your husband.
“Not right now, son” Five put a hand on his smaller one. “Actually, mama and I want to talk to you.”
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, immediately scared about being told off.
“No, no” you said quickly, placing a hand on his other hand. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. There’s just something that’s… Well…”
“There will be some changes in our lives…” Five helped you out. “Soon.”
“What changes?” Max looked between you.
“Well… you know how mama has been feeling unwell for the past few weeks?”
“Is… is mama sick?” Max turned to you, his eyes filling with tears.
“No darling, I’m very healthy” you smiled gently at him. “The sickness has been caused by something else” you thought for a moment on how to approach the subject. “You know Betty and Lily, how they’re sisters?” Max nodded. “They were born on the same day. But you can have siblings a few years in-between.”
“Like Dean and Paul?” he asked, referring to his classmate, who had a younger brother.
“Yes, like Dean and Paul” you nodded.
“What we’re trying to tell you is that mama is now…” Five started. “Well, mama is carrying a baby. In her stomach.”
“What?” Max looked at you, his brain working overtime.
“Yeah, darling” you moved a bit around the table, so he could see your midsection and you opened your robes. “I’m pregnant.”
Max blinked a couple times, reaching out to touch your stomach as if not trusting his eyes. “There’s a baby in there?”
“Yeah” Five nodded.
“And… he is going to be my little brother?” he asked, looking up at you.
“Or sister, we don’t know their gender yet” you smiled. “Are you happy?”
At that question Max’s eyes filled with tears and moved in to hug you. He was gentle, steering clear from your belly. There, he nestled his face into you and nodded a little.
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Around your one year mark of staying at Temps, you were about ready to pop. You ached everywhere, your feet were swollen and you were constantly tired. It was no longer fun being pregnant.
But in hindsight, it was a better pregnancy than it was with Max. There were obvious differences and not just because you were in an apocalypse then. Your stomach was bigger and rounder than it was with him and also, your feet had swollen more.
You were ready for the baby, more so than you were when you learned that Five was going on a longer mission in a few days.
“Come on, baby. I don’t want your father missing your arrival” you groaned as you tried to get off of the couch in the afternoon. “He deserves to be there to greet you. Please.”
But the only thing you can do is wait. Wait for the baby to feel ready. Your doctor said that from the 38th week, it can happen any day. And you couldn’t be more happy about that fact. You were ready for them to arrive.
But they didn’t arrive that day. Nor the next one. And Five’s departure for his mission just kept crawling closer.
“Don’t worry” Five tried to placate you every night. “They’ll be here soon. And I’ll be right by your side.”
You talked to Mary about this as well. She was nice enough to offer Max a place to stay, should your labor start during the day. Which was also a big question mark in your head.
“What if my water breaks during the night? After the curfew starts? What then?”
“Well…” Five looked up from where he was massaging your feet. “I helped deliver Max, so I don’t think we’re in any danger.”
“Yeah, but what if you’re gone by the time this little one decides to come to the world?” you huffed.
“That won’t happen” Five got up and leaned over the armchair to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay.”
“I hate this” you pouted.
“I know” he smiled gently and then went back to massaging your swollen feet.
On the last day, you start feeling worse. In the morning, you found some weird substance in your underwear, which at first weirded you out, then realized that it was probably related to your pregnancy. Your doctor was on a day off, so you couldn’t go in, but you could go to the payphone at the end of the street and call them.
They told you, after explaining what happened, that that was a good sign. Your labor was finally approaching. It still could be days but it could be only hours. They also told you to call them if any more advancements are made.
The whole day, you barely got anything done. You tried to do something as simple as sweeping the floor, but your back started aching almost instantly. You did manage to make some warm food for dinner, when your two boys showed up.
“Hi mama” Max came home first, but only a couple minutes before Five showed up.
“Hi darling” his smooth voice called from the hallway. “What did the doctor say?”
“To call them when my water breaks” you sighed, rubbing at your lower stomach.
Five hummed and came up to press a kiss to your cheek, then to Max’s, who was sitting beside you, caressing your stomach.
“The baby doesn’t move as much” Max voiced his sorrow.
“They’re sleeping more” you explained. “They’re getting ready to see you.”
“Really?” he looked up at you.
“Really” you smiled gently.
Time ticked by, slowly, even as you wished it would rush. You were in so much discomfort, you really wished that time would pass, so you could just FINALLY-
In that moment, a weird sensation ran through you and you felt a warm sensation run down your legs. Looking down, you saw that your previously dry pants were no longer dry.
Breathing hard and slightly panicked, you yelled out: “Five!”
In just a fraction of a second, Five blinked next to you and grabbed your hand, looking frantic.
“What happened?” he asked, clearly just as panicked as you.
“My… my water just broke!” you told him, still in shock. “What- what do we do?”
“Uh…” Five looked up at the clock. It was 7pm. He could try calling your doctor, but it was unlikely that they would be able to come and it was an hour til curfew. “Shit… I’ll go call the doctor, you… just try to breathe and lie down.”
He quickly made your bed, heaping the pillows, so you would be in a half-sitting, half-lying down position. He helped you lie down and then blinked into Max’s room, where he was reading his favorite book. Soon, Max was knocking on your bedroom door and then peeking his head in.
“Mama?” he asked, looking slightly scared.
“Hey darling” you breathed out, wincing at a sudden pain in your lower stomach.
“Is the baby coming?” he walked up to the bed.
“Yeah, I think they want to” you sighed.
“Does it hurt?”
“Yeah” you nodded, not wanting to lie. “It hurts really badly. But don’t worry, they’ll be here soon and it won’t hurt anymore.”
“Can I help?” he asked, ever the caring little boy.
“You could bring me a glass of water while daddy gets back” you smiled at him as gently as you could.
Max nodded and rushed out to fill a glass with fresh water. He was soon back, giving it to you.
“Thank you darling” you sighed as you took a couple sips.
Five was back within a couple minutes, but not with good news.
“I reached the doctor, but they can’t come” he sighed, frustrated. “He said your delivery could be an hour from now or even 24.”
“Oh God…” you sighed, dropping your head back down. “So I’ll just suffer here?”
“I’m here with you. We’ll get through this” Five took your hand gently in his, then looked back at your son, who was waiting by the bedside table, tears in his eyes. “Max, darling, I think you should go to bed. Mama will be alright” he said gently.
“But I don’t want to leave her. She’s hurt” he sniffled.
“Darling…” Five walked to him, but you interrupted him.
“Let him be here” you told him. “But Max, you have to do what daddy tells you, while you’re here, okay? Once the baby starts coming, mama will be in a lot of pain and you can’t stand in daddy’s way.”
“I promise to be a good boy” he nodded eagerly. “Please, daddy.”
“Fine” Five sighed. “I’ll get some towels.”
Your labor advances quite slowly and every half an hour you get up to walk around with Five’s help. You couldn’t be happier that he was there with you. And Max, he seemed to grow up quite a lot in the hours since your labor started. You of course wished you could spare the young boy from seeing you in pain, but you also didn’t want him to have to be scared in his room as he heard you scream through your delivery.
Which he instead got to experience right by your side. Though Five told him that he didn’t have to take your hand as you couldn’t control how tightly you hold onto it, he did anyway. His eyes were filled with tears, but he didn’t let go of your hand as you delivered the baby, his sibling.
It was quite a shorter process than it was with Max, but somehow more painful. But that all washed away, when Five finally handed them to you.
“It’s a little girl” Five said, tears in his eyes, looking at the crying baby. “I’m so proud of you, darling” he leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead.
You sobbed as you held your little girl close, so small and fragile. Five disappeared into the bathroom to wash all the blood and other fluids away from his hands and arrived back to seeing Max on the side of the bed, looking down at his sister.
“She’s so tiny” he said quietly.
“Yeah. But you were smaller” you smiled at him.
“Really?” he blinked, his eyes big.
“Yes” Five agreed, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning up the area. “Max, how is your hand?”
The little boy seemed to only just notice his hand, too preoccupied by his sister. He lifted it and showed the red marks on it, that resembled your fingers.
“Oh darling, I’m so sorry” you teared up again. “Mama didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s okay mama” he smiled. “It hurts, but you were hurt more.”
“You’re such a strong kid” Five praised him, kissing his head. “But come on, I’ll get some ice on that for you.”
“But mama…” he started, but then just nodded.
Once things calmed down, Max was sitting on one side of you and Five the other. You looked at your husband.
“What do you think her name should be?”
“I was kind of thinking about flowers…” he hummed.
“What about Penny though?” Max chimed in, looking at his baby sister in your arms.
“Penny? Why Penny?” you asked him gently.
“I don’t know” he shrugged.
“Well, I like Penny” Five agreed with his son. “Not my first idea, but I like the name.”
“I do too” you nodded, smiling down at your sleeping daughter. “Welcome to the world, Penny.”
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Days, months, years passed in Temps as your little family grew. Max was now 13 and baby Penny 2. They were the bestest friends, even when Max’s temper got the best of him. He was going into puberty, his hormones working more and more. But the one thing he never did was hurt his baby sister, no matter what. He was gentle with her at all times.
Five was working hard. Not just with the Commission jobs, but with the equations to get you back to 2019, back to his family. He was getting closer and closer to the answer every day, but didn’t know how close.
One day though, when he was waiting to finish his work for that day, he looked through his book again. There it was. The answer. His heart beat fast as he stared at the book. He could finally… they could finally go…
But before he could think more about it, he had to finish the job and get back home as soon as he could. He needed to see Y/n, the kids. So for the next few minutes, with his heart beating fast, he waited with bated breath, keeping his gun trained on where the target would be. It was only minutes, but he felt like hours passed. He never thought time could pass by so slow.
And when the job was finally done, he wasted no time in jumping back to the Commission, passing his briefcase down and blinking into your home.
“Y/n, get the kids, we’re going” he yelled immediately, pulling his book out.
“Going? Where?” you asked from the kitchen, where you were feeding baby Penny.
“Back to my family” he said lowly when he reached the kitchen. “Come on, before they realize what I’m planning.”
“Okay” you breathed out, anxiety coursing through your veins. You put the bowl from your hands and picked her up from the highchair. “Max!” you yelled from your son as you followed Five to the living room.
“Yeah?” he called from his room.
“Come on, put your shoes on. We’re going home.”
“Home? We are…” Max stopped as he realized you didn’t mean this home. You meant the home in another time. Without another word, he put his shoes on, also picking up baby Penny’s shoes and your own as well. “Here you go, mom.”
“Thank you” you smiled thankfully at him, taking Penny’s shoes first.
“Stand by the door. This portal will be big” Five instructed, stepping back as well, his hands curling into fists.
Max took Penny from your hands so you could pull your own shoes up. The living room was suddenly lit in a blue light and you could hear Penny coo at it.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Max asked and gave her back, when you finished tying your shoes.
Suddenly there was a… fire extinguisher? flying through the portal and you only just pulled Max out of the way from it.
“Woah…” Max looked at the objects now rolling on the floor.
“Take my hand” Five suddenly yelled, reaching back for Max. “And take your mother’s.”
Max immediately took yours in his right then Five’s in his left hand. “Dad…” he didn’t, couldn’t say more, but Five looked at him.
“It’s gonna be alright” he said as gently as he could.
With that, you all took a step forward, holding each other’s hands. Going through the portal felt like wading through thick mud, the energy around you almost forcing you back. But your strong hold on each other didn’t let it.
Soon you were falling, your hand letting go of Max’s as you curled your arms around Penny, to protect her from the fall. Five did the same thing with Max and you all landed in a heap.
Groaning, you got off of Five, Penny safe in your arms. Five stood up as well, looking at Max who was…
“Mama?” the word made you turn to… little Max.
“What…” you blinked, looking at your husband, who was…
“Does anyone see little Number Five and other kids, or is that just me?” a guy asked from your right, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Five.
“Five…” you whispered, confused and shocked, bouncing a crying baby Penny in your arms.
“Y/n…” he looked you up and down, then himself as well. “Shit…”
[Part 1] [Masterlist] [Part 3]
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Taglist: @snixx2088, @piopoi87, @izzyj12119, @groovydazephantom
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buckybabesonly · 4 months
Text
as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)
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Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC
Genre: Angst
Length: 7.8k
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Two years ago
“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”
Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.
Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.
He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.
“You’ll find your Peggy.”
Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?
Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.
He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.
"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.
Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?
Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.
“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”
"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"
He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.
“Will you just look at me?”
He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.
Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.
"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"
"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."
"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.
"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"
"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"
A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.
He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.
"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."
You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.
Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.
"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.
You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.
"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."
I’m not in love with you anymore.
You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.
The door slammed shut.
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Present day
You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson
Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.
Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.
"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.
"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"
Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.
"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."
"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.
"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.
As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.
Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”
At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.
They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.
He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.
Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.
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“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.
“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”
"You told Bucky?"
"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."
“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.
Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.
"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”
“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"
"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."
“Do you think he has?”
Sam paused, considering the question carefully.
“He has to.”
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Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.
"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.
More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.
"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.
Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.
An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.
Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.
Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.
However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -
"Sorry to interrupt.”
Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"
"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.
"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.
"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.
Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"
"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.
Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”
"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.
He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.
“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”
Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?
"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."
"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"
"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.
Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”
“I'm sorry, Buck..."
Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.
"Listen -"
"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”
He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.
He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.
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For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.
He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.
She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.
Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?
You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.
That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.
You crushed him.
Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.
Just like Bucky was nothing to you.
When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.
"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.
"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"
Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.
And there you were.
It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.
You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.
You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.
"Barnes? You okay?"
Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.
"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.
"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.
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"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.
"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.
"Look at you, you're -"
“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”
Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.
"Hey."
You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.
You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.
"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...
He was holding another woman’s hand.
"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.
"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.
"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.
You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.
"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.
Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.
“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"
You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.
“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.
"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.
"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.
"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.
"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?
"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.
He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.
"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.
You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."
You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.
"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.
He hated how you were making him feel.
"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”
“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”
“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”
You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.
“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”
"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.
"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."
You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.
It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.
"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.
"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.
“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”
Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.
“And how's the man you left me for?"
"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.
"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.
Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.
"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.
“I -”
“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.
That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.
But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.
You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.
Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.
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The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.
"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”
"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.
“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.
Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.
"Why is this any of your business?"
"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.
“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”
“I want you to feel sorry to her.”
"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.
“You’re so fucking frustrating.”
“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”
Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.
“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.
The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.
“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.
Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."
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Two years ago
"It's cancer, Sam."
You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.
Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?
"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”
Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”
"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."
“But-”
“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.
It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"
"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"
"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”
Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.
"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.
“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."
Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.
You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.
You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.
There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.
In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.
It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.
Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.
It just couldn’t be with you.
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Present day
"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"
Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.
Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.
"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.
"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”
He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.
He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.
"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”
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The tears wouldn't stop falling.
You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.
They were once so happy. They were so perfect.
You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.
You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.
You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.
“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.
As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.
Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.
Cancer really was a bitch.
You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.
You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.
You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.
Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.
You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.
When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.
You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"
Bucky.
You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.
You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.
You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.
"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.
He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.
"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.
"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.
You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.
He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.
"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."
He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.
“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”
"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."
Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.
Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.
"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.
“Don’t.”
“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”
You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.
"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."
"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."
“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”
“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”
“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”
“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.
He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.
His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.
You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.
Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.
"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.
"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."
You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.
“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.
You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.
"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”
"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"
You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.
"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."
You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"
"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.
"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."
"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.
You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.
Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.
"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.
914 notes · View notes
Anti's, Twitter Freaks, and Tumblr crazies seem to have this weird itch where they believe any women under 5'6" is "a literal child". And this shit has annoyed me for forever now. What's more this conversation always comes up in regards to Loli in anime and tall men with short women IRL. So here's a poll. And then more context.
Long story short, or rather as short as I can get it. I'm getting sick and tired of the idea that age somehow doesn't matter but, physical appearance of age does somehow matter instead. Especially when it comes with the context of anime. And even then more so I get frustrated at the fact that I have to talk with anyone about what is appropriate and not appropriate IRL.
The fact of the matter is and will remain that just because a girl looks like an adult does not in any way imply that it is okay to sleep with her unless you are also underage. (And I only make that caveat, because I know I can't stop young people from screwing around with one another.) But, when I see people whining about anime specifically I often end up with people who are fans of Ryoko from Kill La Kill or Kitagawa from My Dress Up Darling. Both of whom are minors. And if you like that, then you do you. Because I understand that with anime as an aesthetic they do have a tendency to look older or younger depending on how the people writing the story wanted them to come out.
However, a lot of people have a frustrating little quirk where if it looks like a character is too short, to flat chested, or has no back-end or thighs to speak of, they assess that that character is supposed to either be or look like a child (Ignoring they treat REAL women like this). Which also ignores this fun issue:
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Because let's talk age of consent shall we. Sure, it's not universal across every country but it's pretty close among first world ones. But people make a big deal of characters that short with no bust, seek out people that like that character, and will literally treat that person as if they've harmed kids IRL. Yet are seemingly NEVER angry over the abuse of real kids. What's more they will claim something is pedophilia online, THEN SHARE IT saying something like "OMFG LOOK AT THIS EPSTEIN TIER ABUSER!", and I'm sitting here like, "I don't care how old you are if you're an adult you need to be punched in the throat and if your a minor, you and your parents need to be punches in the throat". (My reasoning here is simple. If you think something is CP why would you then share it to more people rather than just report it)
Epstein abused and trafficked MANY young girls and possibly young boys to a lesser extent. A person that likes this goblin?
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Isn't even close to Epstein. Because:
This is a drawing
This drawing is humanoid but doesn't look like an actual human
This character is probably older than you are
This character is a dragon
This character is FICTIONAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My point for asking ladies heights is because I'm really sick of people more or less going, "as long as you look old enough it's fine" while not realizing they literally just made the argument that age is just a number and so long as you look of age you should be allowed to be sexually abused.
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jadeslayter · 3 months
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︶ ◜ᴗ◝ ࣪ 𓈒・ 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍' 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𓇼
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꒰ : 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 ˚ 。 ⋆
★ The jjk men have a marathon session . ★ Pairings ⦂ Sukuna , Geto , Toji x Fem!Reader ⭒ (separate)
꒰ ୭ৎ 𓂃 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 ׂ ׅ
♡⃕⠀ - short drabble : scratching, choking, somnophilia, (dom & feral jjk men cus yesss), degradation, praise, overstim, piv, creampies, spanking, dub-con, dumbification, edging, domestic Geto, power dynamic, true-form kuna, masochism
୫; - pet names : doll , (pretty) girl, baby, princess, mama, ma ୫; - wc : 3k
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─── ⋮𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
THE ROOM WAS HOT. Sweltering, even— thick air swallowing your shaking body as you convulsed underneath that bastardly curse; his nails digging angry crescent moons into the plush of your supple thighs– reddened from his previous assault. “Takin’ that c-ock so good,” Sukuna would praise, his warm breath bellowing directly into your face as his hips snapped forwards with ungodly haste, stretching your overstimulated cunt until your velvet walls sheathed the entirety of his size. He wanted you full of shaft– full of him. “I should make it..fuckbaby,” He paused, reeling his head back in pleasure. “Should make things h-arder for..you.. yeah?”
This was not a question, but a statement— Sukuna would ask these things to make you feel as though you had some sense of power over the situation. You hadn’t, but it never hurt to imagine you did. Sukuna preferred things this way, and you’d accede, too. He was certain of it. 
The man’s calloused hands— two of them, the other pair gripped firmly behind your knees, locking your thighs against your chest in a tight mating press— travel along the lines of your body, grazing over your sweat slicked skin. Lower and lower— tantalizingly lower. 
Until they were nestled within the cute folds of your cunt, his big fingers working the bud from hiding as he pinched her between two rough fingers. Not gently, either. He wanted to hurt you; and so he would. He’d squeeze on your little clit with malice, massaging the bud aggressively between an index and a thumb. His other hand spread your lips, sheen coating his shaft in sinful pleasure. 
You’d be cockhungry and desperate by the time he was finished with you— a sloppy puddle of a woman drenched in her own arousal. “‘Kuna—Fuck,’Kuna!” You would scream into the recesses of your lovers neck, inundate scent enveloping you; sukuna laying his full claim to every inch of your being. It was impossible to escape him. 
Your toes curled, his precious cock head jutting against an all too familiar patch of textured velvet. Sukuna was an expert at anatomy— your anatomy, only. He knew your body like the back of his hand, and he’d studied hard to understand it. He’d shoved every inch of himself inside of you to accustom himself with your pleasure points, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. 
“Shut up n’ take that fuckin’ dick,” He would be so mean with you, degrading you— invalidating you crudely as he split you on his cock. He just couldn’t help but lose his sense of stability, you knew that, Doll. 
He was very lenient with you; very loving, in all the ways he knew how to be. Not many. But, the effort was still there. 
His body would press down against yours— his weight heavy above you as his waist slammed down into you; his inches slipping inside of you with ease, slicked with your pitiful fucking orgasms. Over and over (and over). 
He made you cum so much. Until you were physically unable to move beneath him— it just felt so good. But seeing you immobile wasn’t enough; he needed you brain dead. He needed you to rely on him, you could do that, couldn’t you? You would. He’d make sure you fucking did. 
“Kuna, fuck—right there, baby— hohgod, g’na cum!” The words ripped from your throat, your moans bellowing within the echoes of your bedroom. “yesyesyes, Kuna— fuck m’ cummin’” 
“Yeah, baby, give me what I want— gimme ‘notha one, make it g-ood. Don’t you dare disappoint me.” He meant what he said. His words were sharp in your ears; his breath hitting against the shell of your ear. 
And God, would you fucking cum. All over his cock— for the nth time. Your release flowed out of you with haste, coating his shaft in another layer of your euphoria. Your body would convulse, shivering desperately beneath the man once more as you struggled to overcome your high. 
His thighs wouldn’t stop their smacking; his heavy balls slapping against your cunt with hellish velocity— Godspeed. He was so careless. 
“Thas’ it, Pretty girl,” He huffed, his chest heavy with the weight of his own impending orgasm. “Giveitall— give it t’ me. Not stoppin’ til’ you’re fallin’ asleep on my cock.” 
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─── ⋮𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
“DONTSTOPDONTSTOPDONTSTOP,” You’d pant, latching your flailing hands around the bare abdomen of your lover– his skin dewy with sweat as he forced another inch of himself into your sopping walls; cunt swallowing his shaft expectantly. 
He was right where you wanted him— ramming against that spot with genuine rapture; his hips rocking into you gingerly. “Don’t stop, baby? Yeah?” He’d mimicked, his hands traversing the frill of your nightgown; thin silk hiked over your thighs, pooling above your bellybutton. 
Cute little lolita top he bought you on the night of your honeymoon— the night you were finally taken by a real man— it had always looked so good on you; the blue of the fabric slightly faded over the years of your marriage. He loved seeing you in his clothes; albeit his personal wardrobe, or the clothing you’ve accumulated with his money. The feeling never faltered. 
Geto would be obsessed with the way your perky nipples peak from below the fabric, sensitive buds hardened underneath the restrictions of your nightgown. 
A strained chuckle would pass Geto’s pre-parted lips, heavy breaths and groans resounding within the man's throat. “Thas’it, Baby,” Suguru would moan, the intensity of his thrusts sending recoils through your body. You’d grip the headboard for stability– fuzzy brain swarmed with indescribable pleasure. 
Geto was an elephant when it came to retaining information; all information. Names, dates, locations, everything. So, naturally, Geto’s interests peaked when you had mentioned being woken up to the rock of his hips between your thighs; how foreign his cock would feel inside of your sleepy lil’ cunt while you dreamt of him, and how familiar it’d feel when you awoke to the sensation of spilling on his length. 
So here he lay, a soft hand wrapped firmly around the width of your neck, the other clasped firm within the bend of your knee, your ankle resting upon his broad shoulders. That cute little nightgown of yours clinging to the curvature of your body with sweat. 
You were so pretty when you were like this— cum drunk, lust clouding your comprehension. You only knew how to ask for more and more. You only spoke Geto’s language, and he had no problem following suit. You were his— through and through. 
“This pussy’s s’ fuckin’ good, Baby,” A husky groan reverberating in his throat— adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “‘specially when i work her up in the mornin’.” You felt so good around him. Looked good, too; cute little cunt puffy with overstimulation; your holes clenching so desperately around his thick cock. 
And those eyes, Jesus, those eyes, Baby. He could stare into them for hours; big curious orbs blown with pleasure. Hearts practically morphed your irises; delectation overwhelming. This— in all of its glory— is why he wanted you in missionary; wanted to see that pretty, drool-crusted face as he edged you into oblivion.
He almost felt bad for you— princess pussy so sensitive, yet so eager for a release. So needy, only for his package. “So—hnh— full’f me, yeah? Wanna cum, Princess?” His pelvis pistoned between your shaking thighs as the heat of a prolonged orgasm washed over the both of you, coiling the knot within your stomach with yearning.
Geto would roll his hips into you, slowing his pace as he ground himself deep within your velvet walls, pressing your abdomen into the mattress— his raven locs veiling against your forehead; hair disheveled atop his head. He was so focused. Determined. 
He looked the most attractive this way, his skin ripe with droplets of sweat; blotchy patches dotting his arms— soon-to-be-bruises forming just beneath his flesh. He looked so strained above you, thrusting everything he had into your cunt as he distributed his weight into his forearms, his nose directly against yours. 
He’d exhale against your lips, beridding his lungs of their oxygen before pulling you into a sensual, slow, kiss— his lips entrapping yours as they began to swell with pressure; his teeth boring indentions into the plush. 
Geto would tilt his head slightly to the right , angling his nose before yours as he deepened the kiss; his desperation palpable. His tongue would slick over your lips; a gesture of request— and he’d slip himself within your mouth when you oblige, his tongue exploring your cavern hungrily. 
You’d dance in tango, tongues swirling vehemently as the kiss grew increasingly sloppier with every reposition of your lips against his; saliva glistening along the corners of your lips, some dripping upon your chin.
His cock continues its cruel assault, bucking away at your g-spot with malice; his hips shifting slightly to elicit more lude noises from your throat— to which he would swallow up in that kiss, drinking down your essence as he fucked himself into you. 
He was fucking you so good. The pleasure had your eyes rolling into your skull, your toes pointed with tension. 
So fucking close. Just a few more thrusts—
Geto’s lips unlatch themselves from yours, a bubble of intimacy stringing between you before snapping, the droplets warm against your flesh as they land.  
A deep sigh; and then it’s gone. Everything. The movement of his hips ceases between your bruised thighs— begrudgingly, ‘course. You’d feel so empty; so indifferent, so.. frustrated. He’d taunted you with the idea of an orgasm yet again; eighth time in counting.
“Not yet,” He’d huff as he’d collapse above you, his flesh adhering to yours with sweat— lots n’ lots of it. “Just a little bit longer, You can hold it f’ me, huh?” 
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─── ⋮𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
SOMETIMES WHEN TOJI fucked you, you were physically incapable of making any noise. 
It just felt that good— your little cock hungry brain unable to process any sounds other than pitiful whimpers, occasional gasps when he’d force the arch of your back deeper into the mattress. 
Especially after he’d ram the entirety of his dick into you; his balls slapping against your thighs, girthy 7 inches bottoming out within you, not the slightest shiver of repentance. This was your punishment, after all. What did he have to be apologetic for? 
Certainly not your actions. You were responsible for atoning those. And you would, he’d make sure of it. Your careless transgressions were what got you in this position to begin with— slutty little holes on display for him while you drooled helplessly upon the cotton of his pillowcase, your saliva soaking the fabric through and through. 
“D’aww, Mama,” He’d chuckled ingenuienly through his teeth, callous fingers adamant with their search between your legs, his broad fingertips circling your clit prudently with the resolve of his amatory impurity. He wanted you so bad; wanted to split you open with his seed, fill your breeding chamber until you were swollen with every last drop. “T’s too much? hmm? c’mon, use that mouth, t’s all ya’ good for, idntit?” 
Toji was so mean. 
So condescending as he forced his vigilantic tournament upon your cunt. She could take it. 
But God, it’d feel so good. He’d feel so good inside of you, stretching your velvet over the length of his cock, burrowing himself into your cute lil’ g-spot. He loved being inside of you, even if it were for the benefit of punishing you with the sadistic means of fucking you until you nearly safeworded. 
He hadn’t wanted to hurt you, Doll. Only a lil’ bit. Out of spite, ‘course. 
You’d manage to force a lamentable little whine once more, nodding your head frantically as your sweat adhered your forehead to the pillowcase. “Please,t’stoomuch, Jiji— god, rightthere!” Muffled moans swallowed up by the material your husband were fucking you into. 
“Yeah, right there?” His tone was teasing, his voice pitching as he mocked your desperate pleas of pleasure; how very piteous you sounded begging him to continue with his assault on your insides. Had you no shame, baby? But t’s okay, Toji preferred you absolutely fucking stupid on his dick. Easier for him to thrust his seed into your cunt, because you were simply unable to object. Not like you would, anyway. 
Your arch deepened, the fat of your ass recoiling against Toji’s brutality— skin slapping whilst your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. So fucking good. Toji knew just what you needed— knew your body better than you had. 
Knew how to push you beyond your limits; have you a crying, screaming mess on his bedsheets. He loved seeing you so voracious; all created by him. 
“You don’t get to say that,” He breathed, his thrusts erratic from behind you— peak of his orgasm approaching rapidly, desirous cockhead famished for its release. “‘T’s too much’, this ‘s—..fuck, Baby— This is your f-ault.”
A coy chuckle, and then he’d shove your face deeper within the recesses of the mattress— his right hand heavy above your head as he crushed your frame into the foam. His fingers entangle your roughly tousled hair— the singe of his grip searing through your scalp. “If you’d learn patience, I wouldn’t have ‘t fuck you this way—“ His large knuckles strategically angle your head, his fist pressing your left cheek into the pillow. “Now you’re stuck, Mama,” 
Toji was so ashamed of you, he had trained you so much better than this. You couldn’t even resist your primal urges long enough— couldn’t respect yourself or your husband long enough to wait for his return. Had to call and call his phone; sending him nude photos of those perfectly unbruised breasts, squeezed between a pair of elbows Toji so desperately wanted tied behind your back. 
Your soft eyes would gaze up at the camera as you angled your tits into the frame, snapping the photo and shooting it off to your preoccupied, very busy, husband. Caption being a string of pouting emojis, your desperation almost sickening. Toji’s eyes glossed the minute he opened the inappropriate image, his cheeks warm with the creeping effects of your careless neglect. 
He had you stripped bare and teary eyed in no less than 10 minutes after walking in the door; no hooking his keys, hanging his coat; slipping off his shoes— straight to the bedroom, straight to burying his cock inside of your disgustingly greedy cunt. “Yeah, this’s what ya’ wanted, wadntit’, fuckin’ whore.” He had panted against your skin after his second soul snatching nut, gleaming as he watched the cum spill from your hole. You were able to speak then, strings of curse words and affection spilling from your raspy throat. 
But now he’s pushing out his fifth, and all you can do is lay breathless, pinned to the mattress as your body jolts from the force behind— your ass bruised in bright red handprints, purple and dark green splotches adorning either side of your waist's curvature. Your cunt tight and unwinding against your lovers intrusion as the heat of your orgasm buzzed overhead.
“Oohbaby, t’s’ close, huh? Can feel that pussy clenchin’, Ma.” He rasped deeply, beads of sweat dribbling down onto your back as he rammed himself into you. “Go ‘head, Baby, cum on this dick— fuck, yeaahh baby, M’ cummin’, too,” 
He shot another thick load within you, your pussy clenching down— spazzing helplessly against shaft as he bucked, the accuracy and rhythm of his thrusts receding. He gripped onto your waist for support, balancing himself before lifting his right leg and sitting the flat of his foot against the bedsheet, angling himself inside of you to better overstimulate that poor lil’ g-spot. 
Your screams would prove futile; the fatigue of your cries evident, though no sound emits, your vocal chords just too strained. The sting hurt so good, overstimulation paralyzing you. You really were stuck at the mercy of this man, cumming repetitively on his cock like it’d be your last. 
His thighs resounded off of yours as he fucked the both of you through your paralytic highs, his dick splitting you deftly. It wasn’t long before the peak of yet another release overcame, the sensation sending a rush of euphoric bliss over you as you gasped, your body language giving way to your liberation; shivers and jolts of electricity firing through you— a tired arch faltering underneath him. 
Exactly the way Toji wanted you. Punishing you was so much easier when you obeyed. When you sat and took your punishment like a big girl— Toji’s big, strong girl. Like you’d take this one, over and over, until he decided he was done with you. 
And he was far from that. You hadn’t begged enough, and that just wouldn’t do. No matter, you’d pay with every drop of cum you pushed out of that swollen, sweat-slicked cunt. 
“Gimmie anotha’ one, c’mon, cream until you’ve learned your fucking lesson— til you learn the privilege of restraint.”
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© JadeSlayter 2024 Tumblr
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igotanidea · 4 months
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Boyfriend thing: Dick Grayson x reader
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AKA: the wealth gap XD
***
When she started dating Dick, he quickly learned that spoiling her by taking to the best restaurants and fancy places was a no go.
It was heartbreaking, seeing her get self-conscious as the fake belief of not being good enough and not belonging in such premises haunted her mind.
Y/N would simply crouch in her chair, doing her best to shrink or better yet - to disappear so that no one would give her any look, believing she was Dick's dependent, or maybe even --.
Well the rest of that thought was getting blocked all the time. Nonetheless it was clear as day that she was uncomfortable just from staring at the prices on the menu or summary of the purchase of tickets for a concert or other event.
So having her best interest in mind, and driven solely by feelings for her, Dick slowly started picking four stars places instead of five, taking her to vacation to the places off the top5 destination list and purchasing second raw festival entries instead of first.
In his own opinion this was a bit downgrading and almost lower class, but he could suffer a little less luxury for her.
In her opinion it was all too much. Why was he spending all that on her? She was not worth it and it was all redundant and unnecessary and not what she was used to, being raised with four older siblings in a little house, learnt to watch every little expense. Definitely not having enough to order lobster for dinner or fly to Paris just to watch the sunset from the Eiffel Tower.
So one day, sitting in the little cafe where the cheapest beverage (water) was 20 $ she decided to speak up.
"Dick..." the resolve to clear the situation died on her tongue.
"Yeah? What's up Y/N?" Dick grinned, raising head from his creme brulee to meet her eyes. "Hey... hey, what's wrong?" the look on her face alarmed him immediately. "Aren’t you enjoying your dessert?"
"I am. I am, it's delicious! I just think that maybe...." whatever she thought was spoken up incoherently and with a heavy blush on her cheeks.
"Hm? Care to repeat that last part? I didn;t quite get it."
"I-think-I-should-pay-for-half-the-price-for-our-food." she said again on one exhale and with even more red face.
Dick almost choked on his food, starting to cough like he was dying on the spot, his mind spiralling.
"P-pay in half?" he stuttered as if those words were bringing him physical pain. "What do you mean pay in half?! Y/N?"
"It's a normal thing to do--"
"No?" he looked at her with terror and incredulity.
"Look, you cannot just--"
"I can and I will." he quickly snatched her bag from within her reach so she wouldn;t even get a glimpse of the idea to reach for her purse.
"Come on, please. This is not right. I got my own mon--"
Now he was sure he was getting into a cardiac attack. Was she suggesting that she used her money to use on the attraction he was obligated to provide as her boyfriend?
"Y/N... honey, look at me..." he grabbed her hand above the table, interlacing their fingers, waiting patiently for her to meet his gaze. "Who hurt you....?" His tone was soft and sweet upon realising that if she's acting like this, there must have been something in her past. "Who made you believe that--?"
"I feel like I owe you and--"
"O-owe me....?" holy shit, now he was for sure dead, cause her words were like a ton of bricks thrown on him. "For what? For loving you? For wanting to give you all the best? For making sure that all the things we do make you smile?"
"I'm not used to--" her gaze travelled lower, glued to the ground "I always thought-- I mean, other guys--"
"If they made you believe you owe them for things, they weren;t even worthy of that name." Dick scoffed, getting angry at whoever mistreated her. Making a silent promise to himself to track all those assholes down, one way or another. "Look. Normal thing is that a man provides for the woman he loves. And -" he added quickly, sensing she was about to chime in, "And before you start talking about equality I assure you, I am all up for it. But I need to pamper you ok? It;s a must, cause I might die if I don;t." he teased a little.
"You're such a drama queen" she chuckled
"Made you laugh though." he leaned over the table and kissed her cheek "but seriously, Y/N, you give me something that money can never buy - love, happiness... And I suppose that this-" he gestured over the table "-is a poor attempt to show you how much I love you too."
"But I know it."
"I know you do, but what’s worth the money if you have no one to share it with? So, please, on all that's holy, do not ever feel guilty for helping me spend this fortune in the best possible way."
"Which is?"
"Making memories with you." he smiled genuinely, his heart melting upon seeing the real happiness reflected in her eyes at the words. "So? What’s it gonna be? You'll let me do the boyfriend thing or should we call for an ambulance already?"
"You know how much I hate hospitals." Y/N chuckled rolling her eyes playfully "And that is my only reason for letting you do your boyfriend thing. "Because I'd hate to be the lovesick girl waiting in the corridor while her man is fighting for life."
"Works for me." Dick grinned "Now shall we order those world famous gelatos they have here...?"
masterlist
June 2024 masterlist
Requests are open ! :)
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astrophileous · 11 months
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What about bau!reader who gets shot on a case and Morgan gets angry? like really angry. i leave the rest up to you but i’m kicking my feet and giggling to the thought of morgan getting all angry and mad🤭
if any of you saw this post I made abt agent anderson, it was about this blurb lmao. ty for the request sweetie! I hope this is to your liking 💞
Warning(s): gn!reader, injured reader, talks of gunshot, derek is angry 😠, profanities
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
Heavy footsteps thundered along the white stark hallway. People scampered like hunted rabbits when they saw him, but Derek didn't care. Nothing else mattered to him right at that moment except for reaching the destination in his mind.
Emily Prentiss was the first person Derek saw in the pristine waiting room. The black-haired woman stood to her feet the second her eyes landed on him. Emily had never seen such fury in the man's eyes. She didn't think she would even recognize him in this state if it weren't for the familiar face drilling holes straight through her skull.
"Anything?" Derek bellowed, his voice echoing against every available surface in the room.
Emily shook her head.
"How bad is it? Tell me."
"I don't know," the brunette lamented. "They already ushered (Y/N) inside when I arrived. I don't know anything."
"Well, somebody has to fucking know something." Derek started to pace, his posture domineering in the middle of the room. "Where is—"
Before he could formulate the name in his mind, the person in question appeared from the hallway with Spencer hot on his heels. Agent Anderson faltered in his tracks when he spotted Derek in the waiting room, his countenance getting paler as the latter stalked towards him.
"You," Derek seethed. "You tell me what the fuck happened out there, right now."
Anderson couldn't even look at Derek's face without trembling. Spencer stepped in between the two, trying to push Derek away by his shoulder but the older man wouldn't even budge.
"Morgan, this is not the time nor the place," Spencer warned.
"I'm not doing anything. I'm just asking a question," Derek sneered. "Am I right, Anderson? We're just having a conversation, right?"
"R-Right."
"Good. Now tell me what fucking happened."
The atmosphere thickened in the room. Anderson's eyes darted everywhere as if looking for a reprieve. It was a futile attempt, really. There was nowhere that the man could run where Derek couldn't follow.
"It was supposed to be routine questioning. We didn't—we didn't know that the guy had a warrant against him. I only heard the gunshot before I found (Y/L/N) in the backyard."
"Where were you? Why weren't you two together?"
"We... we, uh, we split up."
"You what?"
"(Y/L/N) said—" Anderson stopped himself when Derek proceeded to glower, forcing the younger agent to backtrack and choose his words more carefully, "—like I said, we didn't think the guy was any threat when we arrived. He shot (Y/L/N) and ran while I was calling for help."
The muscles on Derek's face twitched. "So, not only did you put (Y/N)'s life on the line, but you also let the shooter go free?"
"What? I didn't—we weren't—the injury isn't even that fatal!"
Anderson regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Spencer physically winced after hearing the sentence, and from across the room, Emily was frowning, shaking her head in disapproval as if she was reprimanding her young child.
"I see. It's not even that fatal, is it?"
"T-That's not what I—" gulping down, Anderson tried to scour for his voice, "—I just meant that the, um, the bullet? It didn't even go through. It only grazed (Y/L/N)'s side."
Spencer let out a tired sigh from between them.
"Yeah? You're lucky it didn't go through, Anderson." Derek stepped forward, his index finger blunt but piercing as it fell on Anderson's chest. "Because if the bullet did go through, I would've made sure that you'd fucking pay—"
"Excuse me? Anyone here for (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?"
Derek's threats were cut short by the doctor's appearance in the room. Anderson breathed out his relief as Derek approached the physician.
"I'm the fiancé, Doctor," Derek informed. "Can you tell us anything?"
"Well, I've cleaned and patched up the wound. The bullet only grazed the side so there aren't any shrapnels in it. Just needed a few stitches, really. It could've been worse," the doctor disclosed.
Derek nodded along during her entire explanation. "Can, uh, can I...?"
"Oh! Yes, of course. Just head down this hall. It's the second room to the right."
Derek barely managed to rush out a quick thank you before sprinting down the hallway shown by the doctor. He knocked on the second room to the right, hearing you yell a come in! before he went to open the door.
"Hey, you," Derek said once he was inside the threshold.
You were sitting on a stretcher, your shirt buttoned only at the top as your fingers deftly did the rest. Derek caught a glimpse of the bandage on your side and his heart was in a peril of jumping straight out of his chest. The harrowing feeling was eventually chased away by the sight of your blinding smile.
"Hi, handsome," you greeted.
Your voice was still the same exultant lull that he knew and loved all too well. In fact, if he didn't know any better, there was no visible indication to reveal the horrific encounter that you just went through a couple of hours prior. You looked the same. Normal. Derek allowed the relief to flood as this knowledge dawned on him.
"Why do you look like you just suffered through a massive heart attack?" you asked, bemused as you reached out a palm to his direction.
"Because it feels like I did just have a massive heart attack." Derek accepted your palm and kissed the knuckles before securing your joint hands inside the pocket of his jacket. "You scared the living shit out of me, sweetheart."
"I'm sorry, love. We were blindsided. Didn't mean to worry you."
"You're okay, though?"
"Uh-huh. Just a little sore. And it kinda hurts when I do this." You extended your arm, flinching when a surge of pain instantly ran down your side.
"Stop it. Don't do that. Why would you do that if it hurts?"
"To demonstrate," you replied nonchalantly. "By the way, you shouldn't have been so harsh on Anderson."
"What? How did you know?"
"I didn't. But I know how you are, and your answer just confirmed everything to me." Derek didn't know whether to feel deceived or impressed by what you just said. "You should ease up on him. It's not his fault, you know?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. When two people are paired together and one of them ends up in the hospital with a gunshot wound, I think it's fair to blame the other half of the pair for it, don't you think?"
"But it's the shooter's fault, Derek, not Anderson."
"The shooter may have pulled the trigger, but Anderson didn't have your back." Derek used his free hand to brush a knuckle against your cheekbone. "You wouldn't be here right now if he did."
You huffed an aggravated breath, detangling your fingers from his own in a rebellious act of frustration. "If the situation were flipped, and it was Anderson who lay here instead of me, you would've gone well out of your way to convince me that what happened to him wasn't my fault."
"If the situation were flipped, Anderson wouldn't even be lying on this hospital bed in the first place."
"You don't know that!"
"Maybe. But you don't know what could've happened, either." Derek's hand slipped along your elbow, tugging it gently as he shuffled closer to you. "C'mon, baby. We need to get you home."
"No." You shook his hand away from your arm, getting off the bed as Derek blanched in surprise. "I can do it myself."
Derek watched dumbfoundedly as you staggered towards the table where your jacket, gun, and credentials were stowed. He kept an eagle eye on you as you tried putting on the jacket by yourself, cringing internally when he heard the wretched hiss escaping your lips.
"Okay, baby, stop. That's enough. (Y/N)." Derek snatched the jacket off your back, rearranging its position before helping you slide each arm into the sleeves. "Just let me help you, dammit. Why are you so stubborn?"
"I don't need help from someone who berates other people for fun," you grumbled.
"That's what you think? That I'm doing it because it's fun?"
You paid Derek no regard as you teetered towards the lone chair in the room, sitting yourself down slowly before bending to fix your shoes that had become untied. It turned out to be an arduous feat to do with your injury, and for the next minute, you found yourself shifting into various positions to find one that wouldn't feel like a dozen knives being plunged straight through your flesh.
Across the room, Derek stared at every one of your movements in agony.
"C'mon, baby. Let me do that for you."
"No."
"You're literally in pain as we speak."
"I can take it."
"Why the hell are you doing this?"
"You know why."
Derek sighed.
"Fine," he relented. "I'll apologize to Anderson. Happy now?"
You stopped fiddling with the end of your shoelaces. Your entire face lit up like a kid in a candy store when you found his eyes from the distance. "Really?"
"Yes, really." Derek strode forward, kneeling in front of you so he could help you tie your shoelaces. "Just let me help you when you need me to, okay?"
"Okay!" you exclaimed, leaning down to leave a kiss on Derek's forehead.
Your fiancé had to contain his smile from your adorable but unexpected gesture. "You're lucky I love you, sweetheart."
Even as he said it, Derek knew that deep down, he was actually the lucky one.
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spencerreiddddd · 4 months
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No second chances • 2
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Content: Angst, NO HAPPY ENDING.
Gist: Part 2 of “No second Chances”
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You held your head in your hands, it had been 3 hours here at the BAU base and you were genuinely loosing your mind.
Your past had been something you had successfully buried, you moved on. Yes,of course it took time… 2 years to be exact to even be able to trust a man into your life again. To show vulnerability emotionally and physically in your relationship, but James waited he was patient, he took care of you, he never made you feel unworthy, if your being honest that’s what made you fall for him.
It took you 2 years to build your trust with James, he proposed and you accepted. He offered you stability, he offered you everything Spencer didn’t.
A loud knock comes from the door snapping you out of your thoughts. It was Spencer….
“Can I come in?” He said quietly like a mouse being caught when the lights turn on. “Yeah, sure.” You say moving over on the couch in the break room. Spencer walks over and sits down, leaving a gap between you and him.
“Owen is your spitting image.” Spencer says breathily. “He really is, everyone always tells me, However he has his dad’s brains.” You laugh quietly smiling at the image of Owen in your head.
“Are you happy?” Spencer blurts out, looking at your face searching for something to tell him you weren’t.
You look at him, annoyance flashing over your face making Spencer cringe. “I am, I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.” I say directly looking at him in the eyes.
“How long did you wait?” He asks cupping his hands together and looking down at his feet. You grew angry, Spencer had no right to interrogate you on how you moved on from him.
You got up and moved to face him. “Stop it Reid. You have no right to ask me how long it took ME to move on. You have no right whatsoever when YOU were the one that took everything we had and threw it away for another woman.” You say anger brewing in you eyes, you might even say a bit of disgust for this whole situation your in right now.
“But I’m here, I’m standing here in-front of you now. I regret what I did every single day believe me Y/N.” He says now standing up and towering over you grasping for your hands. “Let me fix this, let me fix us.” He continues desperately looking into your eyes. However those big puppy dog eyes did nothing to you now as they once did before.
“You’re here now?!” You scoff almost laughing. “You’re here now that I’m married to a man who treats me the way I should be treated and more?! You’re here now that I have a child who needs me?! Who needs their dad?! You’re here now?!” You stare at him in disbelief.
He looks at you pleadingly. “I love James, I do. It would be unfair to him for me to ruin a healthy marriage, and destroy my son’s life, it not worth it because you are not worth it.” You say almost spitting at him.
Spencer flinches at your words, he was looking at you but he didn’t recognize you….You were no longer that lovestruck girl who bought him mismatch socks for his birthday, you were no longer that girl who read the books he talked about so he could be able to discuss them with you. You weren’t showering him with love after a long case.
Reality set in, he didn’t know you anymore and worst of all you didn’t want him anymore. He searched in your eyes and he couldn’t find any love you held for him. All he saw was anger, his consequences had caught up to him.
“Is everything alright in here?” James said making you and Spencer flinch. “Yeah, just catching up with Spencer.” You say putting a smile on your face as you turn to look at James.
James had a confused and concerned expression on his face, he could clearly tell by your body language that you were uncomfortable. That told him enough and he walked into the room and handed you a coffee while placing his hand on your waist and walking you out the room.
Unbeknownst to you James stared at Spencer the whole way out of the room with a look that let Spencer know James had caught on, and that he wasn’t welcomed.
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Thank you so so sooooo much for the love and support on the first part, I genuinely had no idea this would blow up the way it did and I am entirely grateful. Hopefully the second part wasn’t a let down but I think Y/N was in the right for not falling into Spencer’s pleads and not ruining what she has now.
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I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.
I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!
But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.
But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?
Whiny. He’s called whiny.
Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.
And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.
You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?
Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!
(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)
Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.
That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”
It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.
Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’
Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism
Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?
I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.
Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.
I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.
Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.
The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.
Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.
That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.
I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.
Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.
Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.
Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep
Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.
Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.
And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!
Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.
I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.
And real people have feelings, you know.
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