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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago

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locked out

a/n: we finally getting some dick :) i'm impatient and wanna get to the other super nasty ideas for this au, okay? i'm a whore, we already know this

summary: “you know,” Steve took a step, closing the gap between you just a tad further, “I think maybe you’re ready.”

warnings: frat!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x stepbro!steve rogers, smut, dark content, college au, polyamory, being locked out of your dorm room, only one bed, kissing, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, corruption kink, dirty talk, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, pussy inspection, pussyjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, fingering, impact play, pain kink, spit kink, oral, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4186

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take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

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Hey, I’m locked out of my room. Can I come sleep at yours just for tonight?

Your eyes repeatedly drifted over the text you’d sent to your stepbrother twenty minutes ago, as well as darting down to the cruelly short answer he’d replied with, only bothering to send a swift ok, a word so simple that it caused you to spiral into unnecessary doubt with every step that brought you closer to the fraternity.

You’d come back to your dorm after a long night at the library, having your nose too buried in textbooks to keep track of the time, only to discover that you’d forgotten your key when you left that morning. Your roommate, Kate, also couldn’t be of help as she was spending the night over at her girlfriend’s, and you’d swiftly come to learn, in the short time you’d been living together, how hard it was to reach her when those two were spending quality time together, so that option wasn’t one you even bothered to explore, leaving you with only one lifeline left, one you begrudgingly tugged on.

“My, my, my,” a voice found your ears once you’d quietly clicked the front door to the frat house shut behind you, “well, would you look who’s back!”

Twisting your neck, you caught sight of the few still down in the living room that sprouted off to the side of the entryway, “Ransom, hi,” you stepped up to lean against the archway and greeted the first of the guys inside who had perked up at your arrival, before your glance then flickered to the rest of them, “Miguel, Frank, Billy, you’re up late.”

Slumping further back into the couch, Miguel chuckled, “what are you, our mama?”

“What are you doing here?” Billy asked, gazing at you like a cat who’d just spotted a toy to bat around.

“I got locked out of my room,” you sighed shortly, “so, Steve’s throwing me a bone, letting me crash here,” your fingers drifted up to tug on the straps of your backpack, “you wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?”

“He and Curtis just got back from the gym,” Frank informed, “so he’s probably still up in the shower.”

“Oh,” your brows floated up slightly, “does Curtis box too?” you asked, as you’d only met the gruff individual a handful of times.

“Yeah, he does,” Miguel nodded, “he’s the one that worsened your stepbrother’s little addiction to it back when they first met. Got him going on a level that he hadn’t tried before.”

“You’re saying that like he’s about to drop out of school to pursue it full time,” you half laughed, “I thought it was just a hobby for him to blow off steam.”

Squinting his eyes, Ransom glanced to the other guys, “does it still count as a hobby if you’re doing underground fights and stuff?”

“He’s doing what?” you swiftly exclaimed.

Meeting your wide eyes, Billy rushed to try and calm your nerves, “oh, it’s not–, he’s fine. He’s good.”

“Good as in, he gets beaten to a pulp on a regular basis?” you pushed.

“No, good as in, his right hook is mean enough that he’s still undefeated,” Frank bowed his head.

Letting out a low sigh, you let your gaze drift down to the floor.

“So, anyhow,” Ransom exhaled in an effort to clear the air, “as fun as it is for you to stay here for a little sleepover,” his stare on you dipped a moment as he spoke, “please just promise that you won’t go wandering, okay?”

“Yeah, especially not down into the basement,” Miguel cut in as he leaned forward to grasp his drink on the coffee table.

“Why?” your eyebrows knit together, “what’s down there?”

“Oh,” Frank let out a long breath as his glance momentarily darted, “don’t you worry about that…”

“Yeah,” Billy couldn’t help but chuckle, “if someone like you were to stumble down there, then you’d probably think we’re all sadists or something.”

Letting out a scoff, Miguel took a swig of his beer and said, “speak for yourself.”

“Okay,” Billy tilted his head before correcting, “she will think that the majority of us are sadists.”

“Uh… what?” you failed to follow their words, instead attempting to joke, “are you guys like devil worshippers? Is this just a cult?” you gestured to the frat house around you.

“Oh, that’s cute,” Ransom let out a laugh just as genuine as the ones that promptly rippled through the rest, “no, that’s–…” he managed to hold his tongue before uttering through his chuckle, “we’ll explain later.”

Glancing over the lot of them as they struggled to contain their amusement, you breathed, “okay…” before footsteps began to approach from behind you and a palm swiftly found your shoulder.

“Y/n,” Steve’s deep timbre tickled your ear before you twisted around to blink up at him, “hey.”

His short sandy hair was a few shades darker from the shower he’d just stepped out of, water droplets still sparsely clinging to his skin above the towel his left grasp clutched around his hips.

“Oh, h-hi,” you struggled to force your gaze away from his burly and bare chest directly before you.

“Come,” he simply nodded as his arm slipped down to the small of your back to scoop you with him.

“Okay,” you half chuckled as he began to tug you along and you only narrowly managed to twist your head to yell, “goodnight guys!” before he dragged you up the stairs.

“Sleep tight!” you just managed to hear one of them echo in return, “if you need tucking in, my room’s just down the hall!”

Shuffling up the stairs, the late hour became hard to ignore as each step grew slower than the last.

And as you reached the top, a yawn rippled out of your lungs and caused your eyes to water slightly, “hey, where’s the bathroom?”

“It’s that door, right there,” Steve pointed before he caught your backpack and slipped it from your shoulders before he disappeared down the corridor towards his own room.

However, when you finished up, you nearly crashed into the figure that then stood waiting outside the door.

“Jesus, fuck!” you instinctively reached out to stabilise yourself against his chest, “Bucky! Put a bell on or something!”

Though he only chuckled in return, “I figured you might be needing this,” before holding up a spare toothbrush in the sliver of space between your frames, plastic packaging still encompassing it.

Snatching it to you, a gasp of genuine surprise slipped from your lungs, “where did you find this?”

“Honey, you’re in a frat house,” he cocked his head, “I just went through our resident fuckboy’s stash. Billy has a whole fucking basket of shit like this, so he never notices when someone steals from it.”

And once your teeth were minty and clean, Bucky kept on shadowing you as you wandered down the hall and into your stepbrother’s room, closing the door behind you both before he flopped down on the bed as if it was his own.

“So,” you shifted slightly as you cast a glance to Steve, “where will you be sleeping tonight?”

“Same place as I always do,” he replied as if that was obvious.

“What?” your eyes grew wide, “I thought you’d take the couch or something.”

“Why would I do that?” his face screwed up, “you can’t seriously be blushing about innocently sleeping in the same bed as me, are you?”

“No!” you denied defensively, “I–…” before the misunderstanding was then dropped with a sigh. Eyes screwed shut in frustration, you uttered in a forced calm tone, “do you have a t-shirt or something I could borrow? I don’t wanna sleep this,” your gaze fluttered back open as you gestured to the jeans you were wearing.

Opening up a drawer in the dresser by the door, Steve then tossed you a grey t-shirt.

Fidgeting with it a moment, you waited expectingly for the duo on the other side of the room to at the very least turn around to grant you some privacy. But unfortunately to your mortification, their staring only intensified after you caught the shirt.

“Would you guys mind–”

But your attempt was swiftly squashed as Bucky then purred from the bed, “aw, like we haven’t already seen it all before.”

Sucking in a breath, you cursed just beneath your breath before spinning around yourself and casting your glare firmly up towards the ceiling as you began to change as quickly as your fingers could manage.

“So…” Steve uttered when you tugged the t-shirt further down, stretching the cotton to try and cover up your panties, “how’s your training going?”

“What, my studying?” you murmured over your shoulder as you folded your clothing neatly on the chair by his desk, “yeah, it’s good, I mean, classes are tough, but it’s really–”

“I wasn’t talking about fucking school,” he laughed before elaborating, “have you been using the little gift I gave you?” and your cheeks swiftly began to heat up, “other than the time two weeks ago when I talked you through it over the phone, that is.”

“Uhm… I–…” your brain short-circuited as he reminded you of the toys he’d bought you. Three dildos, all in various sizes, though none of them matched the memory of the few real-life examples you’d experienced so far.

“Because if you haven’t, then I think that might result in some punishment,” he went on, pursing his lips lightly, “I mean, not that the lack of you actually doing it wouldn’t be punishment enough in the end, you know I only did it to be kind to you so that it wouldn’t hurt as much when I give you the real deal. But I mean if you’d rather relish in whatever amount of pain my cock will cause when it finally gets to stretch that little pussy out, then so be it, that’s your choice,” he shrugged smugly at the thought.

“I–…” you averted your gaze before you heard yourself admit, “…whenever my roommate slept over at her girlfriend’s…”

“So how often is that?” Bucky crawled off the bed.

“I don’t know…” you timidly whispered, “maybe a few times a week… though I haven’t done anything since this weekend because I kinda tried to go up a size, which was probably a mistake because then I was really sore for a whole day after…”

“Oh no, that wasn’t a mistake,” Bucky chuckled, “that’s fucking adorable. That little thing could make your pretty little pussy sore?” he asked, clearly imagining what would happen when he finally managed to cram himself into you.

“You know,” Steve took a step, closing the gap between you just a tad further, “I think maybe you’re ready.”

“Ready? Like ready, ready?” you blinked back at him with wide eyes before you began to shake your head, “no, I don’t think so, I–”

“Well, we could take a little look,” Bucky walked closer as well, his gaze dipping down your frame, barely covered in the borrowed shirt, “do a little inspection of how well you’ve prepared yourself.”

“Trust us,” a dark smirk tugged at your stepbrother’s lips, “we’re far better judges of such things than you are.”

Your head slowly shifted as your eyes fluttered from one to the other, your chest rapidly rising and falling, just in your periphery, before the throbbing between your thighs convinced you to utter, “…alright.”

Taking the lead, Bucky then hooked an inked arm around your waist before yanking you with him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. A shrill yelp escaped you as you tumbled over his lap with your bottom sticking up and slightly angled towards where Steve then planted himself, directly next to the other frat guy.

Though you peeked over your shoulder, you still weren’t sure whose palm collided with your pantie-clad behind first, only that you’d lost count of the stinging taps by the time that your underwear was snatched down your legs. Each of them reached out with greedy hands to spread you open for them, though they did it in a manner so fevered that their grasp on your ass caused your glistening petals to part as well, prying you open so fiercely that your little hole winked faintly as it drooled up at them.

Sloping down closer, Steve then pressed a soft peck to your folds before he ran his ravenous tongue through them, making you dig your nails into Bucky’s thick thigh as he made out with your cunt. Though when he tilted his head to capture your clit with your lips, playfully sucking down on it like it was a hard candy, Bucky’s fingers then crept down to just above where his friend’s mouth stayed locked. At first, his touch skimmed over your puckered rosebud before it came down to circle around your entrance, drooling against his touch and daring him to slip inside for a feel.

He had to plant a forearm over the small of your back to keep you steady once he’d worked two of his fingers inside your pussy, pumping you till it sang in a sloshy song around his thick digits.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky smirked when he finally withdrew his fingers, purposefully brushing up against your g-spot on his way out, “she’s definitely ready.”

“You sure?” you peeked back at them, still not convinced by their expertise, as Steve let go of your puffy pearl with a pop.

As he straightened back up, your stepbrother briefly sank two fingers inside of you as well, making you gasp sharply as he hummed, “yeah, I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

The next thing you knew, you were flipped into a different position as Bucky whirled you back around and manhandled you with him as he sat further back on the bed, pressing your spine against his broad chest. However, just as you felt him press a kiss to your hot cheek, Steve rose up to his feet before he grabbed your legs and yanked you closer to where he stood tall and towering, till your ass was nearly hanging off the corner of the mattress.

The jostled journey had pushed the borrowed t-shirt up your torso, though the man, whose lap your head was now resting on, didn’t let the fabric stay long like that, crumbled and gathered around your ribs, but instead reached down to tug it the rest of the way up to expose your soft tits.

As Bucky’s frame bent down to capture your lips in a kiss, you felt Steve fold your legs up on either side of your frame.

Dropping the towel around his waist, Steve then let a dollop of saliva drop from his lips and land on your cunt before you tilted away from Bucky’s peck when you felt the weight of your stepbrother’s cock tap against your buzzing clit.

“O-oh,” you whimpered as you peeked down at the way he nudged the bulbous tip of him against your puffy pearl, smearing his spit into your nectar that already shined across your glossy petals.

The corners of his lips twisted up into a smirk as he peered down at your core and swept his girth through your folds, repeatedly parting them for him before he tilted down to brush against your weepy entrance. Though each time he cruelly flicked his tip against your innocent opening and you thought the moment had arrived, he instead strayed back up towards your clit and grinned down at the frustrated expression that seeped through your pleasure, as you weren’t sure if you were more relived or disappointed by the repeated delay, as the only true result his bullying had was to make you that much more nervous as his teasing wound you up even further till you felt as if you might explode.

When he finally stopped psyching you out, Bucky’s hand swiftly snaked down to rub your clit as a pinching stretch rocked your body. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as a strangled cry rippled out of your lungs and mingled with the breathy moan that slipped from Steve as he gradually pressed the very tip inside.

“Fuck,” he nearly hissed, “you’re so tight,” as the way your poor pussy struggled to make room for his fat cock rendered his pace to become a lot slowly than he’d intended, even when he put all of his might into it, your body just wouldn’t let him move freely yet.

And even though he was barely moving at all, as Bucky kept on rolling your puffy pearl beneath the rough pads of his fingers in an effort to get you to relax further, the staggering sensation became too much for you to bare as you swiftly came around the bulbous head of your stepbrother’s cock.

And as your orgasm caused your velvety walls to cling around Steve that much further and nearly force him back out, a groan vibrated in his throat at the feeling as he then threw all caution to the wind and instead let himself sink in and bury his cock deeper.

“Can you take it?” he grunted as he ignored your shrill whines in overstimulation, seizing the sensation for himself as he revelled in your high, sliding his cock in your pussy so slowly that you could feel every millimetre, every vein and every detail, split your sensitivity apart and make room for him.

“I-I don’t know,” you panted as Bucky slid his slick fingers up to capture your nipples in a pinch.

“You can take it,” he uttered with a nod before his palms then pressed down against the back of your bent legs, denting your thighs as he buried himself even deeper and squished you down further into the mattress, keeping your trembling legs apart and out of his way from his perfect view of how he gradually sank inside of you. As he continued to stare down at where your bodies fused, practically hypnotised, a hoarse and desperate growl then rippled from his lungs as a dark look glazed over his primal gaze, “fucking take it.”

Peeking down as his friend frantically worked on the home stretch, you heard Bucky click his tongue against his teeth, “damn… there goes my fifty bucks…”

Only offering the other man a brief glance, Steve murmured, “wait, you got in on the bet?”

“Well yeah,” Bucky shrugged in return, “and I bet on that she’d bleed, so that means I just lost fifty fucking dollars,” he let out a sigh before casting a dreamy gaze down towards your cunt, “would have been hot though…”

Only a chuckle reverberated in Steve as a reaction before his primal grip on the back of your thighs flexed as he then snapped his hips and shoved the rest of his length into your warmth, effectively shoving all of the air from your lungs as he filled you up completely.

“Fuck…” Steve moaned as he greedily rutted impossibly deep, the very tip of him kissing a part of you that you didn’t even know existed, “pick up her head, Buck. I want her to watch me fuck her,” he groaned before you felt your dizzy head get scooped up and tilted forward so that your hazy eyes could catch sight of the staggering feat as well, “look at that, baby,” you let out a strangled cry as you saw him withdraw till only the fat head remained, “watch that dick go into you,” he groaned as jammed his himself back inside and a desperate rhythm was swiftly sparked, “watch yourself take it,” you felt his heavy sack tap against your skin, slick from your cream that was leaking out of you as he continuously made you lose your breath from just how deep he repeatedly buried himself, “watch that little pussy finally get fucked…”

You weren’t sure if his efforts truly were that harsh or if it was just your body that registered it as such, as it would probably still think it not gentle enough if he simply froze up entirely, as his mere girth, motionless and stretching you out, would also be too much for your inexperience to handle.

“Oh, we should let the others come up and watch,” Bucky suggested as his hands then travelled down to grasp your hips, “just look at how well you’re doing,” his hold on you then began to push you back against Steve’s efforts, before your stepbrother’s body locked up and he let his friend fuck you back onto his cock, shoving your hips so harshly that you feared they might bruise, “being so fucking good for us.”

The dull outline of Steve’s length bulged in your belly each time Bucky rammed you down against him, fucking you on his friend’s dick in a manner that you would when you one day finally learned to do it yourself and meet his thrusts halfway, though for now, all you could manage to do was lay there and take it, though even that turned out to be a much more daunting task than you’d imagined.

And when Steve finally reached his peak and began to pump you full of his cum, so did your body unravel like a tightly stretched rubber band snapping back into place. Your pussy began to squirt as it strangled Steve’s cock so fiercely that the throbbing girth slipped out entirely, though one of Bucky’s hands swiftly soared down to messily rub against your cunt and make you keep gushing till all of your stepbrother’s load had leaked out as well.

Weakly, your frame shook violently when Bucky finally ceased his touch with one final tap against your aching clit, expelling one last trickle before you felt him slip out from behind you.

“No, wait,” you hazily managed to squeak as you watched him trade places with the other frat guy, swiftly freeing his own length before he caught one of your trembling legs to scoot you even closer, “I can’t–, I’m not ready for you yet, I could barely take Steve, it’s–, u-uh!” your plea swiftly crumbled and your face screwed up as Bucky then began to nudge his staggering size against your still achingly fluttering opening.

You might have had better luck fitting your own small fist inside of you than already taking the monstrous cock that Bucky was cursed with.

“Just relax–, fuck,” he grumbled as all of his attempts continuously failed, forcefully pressing the large tip against your entrance without as much as a centimetre sinking inside of your warmth, “goddamn it…”

“She’ll get there one day, Buck,” Steve clapped his palm against his friend’s broad shoulder, “I’ll make sure of it,” he promised before suggesting through his still ragged intakes of air, “how about for now you just teach her how to take it down her throat?”

Meeting the other man’s eye, he then tilted his head and exhaled, “well, I guess that’s not the worst constellation prize…” before they flipped your exhausted frame around till your head was hanging off the edge of the bed and only supported by Bucky’s fingers, tangled in your hair.

Hazily, you blinked up at the thick girth bobbing just above your face, and you felt the mattress briefly dip as Steve crawled over you till his strong thighs stood rooted on either side of your hips.

“Open up,” Bucky tapped the hefty weight of himself against your closed mouth.

“What–,” you tried to ask before your voice was muffled as he seized the opportunity as soon as you parted your lips to feed you the fat tip of his cock.

“There you go…” he exhaled as your lips stretched around the girth of him, the corners burning from just how thick he was, “watch those teeth, baby,” and your whimpers vibrated against his hardness as your silky tongue retroactively fluttered against him, “that’s it, just relax for me…”

You couldn’t think, scarcely even breathe, as he then began to fuck your face, gradually working himself deeper into your mouth till the tip of him was bruising your throat as you gurgled around him.

With spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth as you gagged around his big dick, you felt one of Steve’s hands migrate away from the softness of your tits to instead brush a thumb against the imprint of his friend’s colossal size in your throat.

And once Bucky had coaxed you into swallowing his load, gently caressing your cheek till you complied, he kneeled down and pressed his lips against your own, still messy and shiny from how he had made you drool. But when the kiss eventually ended and you lifted your spinning head slightly to blink over at Steve, still weighing your body down as he straddled your lap, a shaky whimper tumbled from your lips as your eyes swiftly fluttered down from his own and landed on his cock, once again throbbing and hard as a rock in his fist.

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little-qngels · 6 months ago

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Hi guys, @qumjudetamale has asked me to make a post, so I am.

Please, Support LGBTQ Refugees in Sudan

As they said to me,

we are in miserable situation.

we don't have what to eat , where to sleep we sleep on mats and the house were destroyed by strong rainfall, the place is full of homophobia people, we don't not get enough treatment, no medication, we run out of food three days ago.

we don't know what to do.

Please donate whatever you can, and if you cannot, please, please PLEASE, reblog this. They need our help, please 🙏

#help #sudan #lqbtq #lgbtq community #donate #gofundme #go fund them #signal boost #refugees #support #donation #assist

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mr2swap · 3 months ago

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The Incident: It's not her

-It's not her, It's not her, It's not her- I repeated over and over again from the laundry room where I was hiding, between one of my hands I held my small slippery cock and with the other I held the gym clothes of " Mama,” his tank top was completely soaked with his hot, sticky sweat and his boxers were so wet that he could squeeze the sweat out and drink it like the most delicious juice.

I felt like hell doing this with my mother's clothes... but she was no longer my mother or at least that's what I told myself to try to silence the guilt, "Mama" or rather Frank was living with me and we were increasingly In the same room all I could think about was kneeling before his long hairy legs and taking out his huge cock and worshiping his huge hairy shaft.

It had been a big surprise for the whole family that my own mother was one of those affected by one of those incidents that a group of terrorists were causing throughout the country. This time it happened in the supermarket. My mother was shopping at the supermarket when they released that gas everywhere.

When we saw the news about the terrorist attack we tried to call mom, but no one answered. And hours later the police knocked on our door to bring “mom” back to her home.

I and dad stayed silent for several minutes watching a huge hairy man, almost 2 meters tall, enter our house with a bag full of groceries. “Mom” looked quite embarrassed. His movements were totally feminine and contrasted with that body. A thick beard. It covered his face and the thin fabric of his tank top revealed his muscular, hairy chest.

“Mama” ran to hug us with his long, strong arms, while a couple of tears of sadness stained his handsome face. Mom still didn't control his strength so that strong hug only made things even more awkward between us.

All of this was too much for my dad, He… just stayed silent for days, the house had never felt so bad, but luckily I lived alone and was only visiting to help mom and all the changes she was going through.

A week after the Incident, Mama arrived at my apartment with a suitcase in her hand and with a sad expression on her face.

-Your father and I... we are taking some time-

I knew what that meant dad was always very homophobic, that's the reason I left home, when I came out of the closet dad had the same reaction, ignoring me completely, but this time it was his own wife who was now a “faggot”

At first Mom's posture, movements and way of speaking were very effeminate, when we went to buy some clothes I heard some boys call us “faggots” without knowing that I was only shopping with my mother, but now I barely recognize her .

In just one month Mom started to change, she seemed much happier with her much younger and fit body, she started going to the gym and made new friends, loud, smelly, and extremely masculine guys, little by little Mom got used to his new friends and his new body and he completely became “Frank” Not only with his friends but also with me.

He stopped behaving like a 50-year-old lady and became a muscular airheaded caveman. When he's not devouring everything in the refrigerator while watching a football game in front of the TV, he's fucking some girl in what used to be my room. .

-That loser? Oh yes it's my... friend, his ex just left him and I let him sleep on my couch... but don't worry about him, now let me see those huge tits... -

That's usually his excuse when he brings a girl to my apartment, to fuck her loudly all night. And I... well, I sneak into the laundry room so I can listen much better as he fucks a new girl while I masturbate with her clothes, just like now.

If you liked this story about the "incident" there is a whole series of stories about people who lost their real bodies thanks to one of those attacks that are happening all over the country in my Ko-Fi archives… if you're lucky you could be next.

#body swap #male body swap #bodyswap #body switch #male transformation

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littlespoonevan · 15 days ago

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Hi Ciara ☺️ I’ve been following you for years and years, pretty sure it was you that got me into skam back in the day and 911 more recently. So thanks for that 😄 Are you taking fic prompts by any chance? Because I saw a prompt in the wild that I would LOVE to see your take on (no pressure ofc!). The prompt is simple: either buck or Eddie brings up the topic of them getting together, like “have you ever thought of us being together?” And they have a frank, honest discussion about it. I love a good miscommunication and/or pining moment but I so rarely see this instead and I think it fits so well. I read another fic with this prompt and loved it, it’s called at the kitchen table by iphigenias. But that one was set during bucktaylor so I’d also love to see a similar premise but set post bucktommy! Anyway sorry for the very long ask luv u

ahh omg first of all, you sent this to me so long ago and i'm so sorry i'm only getting to it now!!! the good news is, 8b made this specific prompt very easy to imagine in a canon setting asdkjfh. also i looooove the idea of situations where the characters know how they feel and they're not quite ready to take the leap but just knowing is enough to make them feel all ✨✨✨ inside so that is what this is lol

this is set in some nebulous time post-8x15 when eddie is home and everything is fine and peaceful ❤️ i really hope it lives up to what you wanted :')

Buck passes Eddie another beer before climbing over his legs where they’re propped up on the coffee table to reach his own seat in the other corner of the couch.

“Thanks, man,” Eddie says and Buck hums in acknowledgment, slouching deeper into the couch cushion and picking up the remote to unpause the TV.

It’s a quiet Friday after an even quieter week and Buck is grateful for it. Especially after the turmoil of this past month. But Bobby’s safe and Eddie and Chris are home and Eddie hasn’t brought up kicking Buck out of his house yet so he intends to savour this night for all its worth.

“Hey, you never told me what happened with Tommy in the end.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at him when he says it, voice nonchalant and eyes trained on the movie they’re watching, but Buck still chokes on his beer.

“Um, what?”

Eddie casts him a sidelong glance. “Things seemed pretty awkward at that call yesterday.”

Ah. The call. The one that required air support. And of course, there was no one else at Harbour they could’ve possibly sent. Because the universe hates Buck.

Their greeting had been politely stilted until Eddie had appeared at Buck’s side and touched the spot between his shoulder blades to let him know they were ready to leave and then Tommy had made the same face he’d made in Eddie’s kitchen two months ago. Buck had almost swallowed his own tongue in an attempt not to snap back – not least of all because Eddie still doesn’t know what Tommy had said.

He knows they slept together. Knows Buck hasn’t called Tommy since. But that’s it.

“Oh it’s just-” Buck waves a hand, taking another pull of his beer to buy some time. “We had a…disagreement last time we spoke.”

Now, Eddie pauses the TV, feet dropping off the coffee table so he can turn more towards Buck. “When he stayed over.”

Buck cringes. Eddie has never really shared his opinion on Buck taking Tommy back here but it has to be weird, right? They were in Eddie’s room. At least it wasn’t his bed.

“Yeah. He just said something and it’s…” He shakes his head, not bothering to finish the sentence and hoping Eddie will let it drop.

He doesn’t, obviously.

“What’d he say?”

For a moment, Buck weighs his options. The odds of Eddie letting this go if he keeps being evasive are slim. But likewise, he can’t think of a good enough lie to satisfy Eddie’s curiosity. Dropping his head against the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling, he finally says, “He said something about you. And it pissed me off.”

“About me?”

He can hear the confusion in Eddie’s voice but he doesn’t dare raise his head to see what his face is doing.

“He um, implied that- that you were competition. For him. And that he was more willing to get back together now that you were gone.”

Eddie doesn’t answer right away and the silence stretches so long Buck has no choice but to look at him. He doesn’t look angry, at least. If anything, he looks like he’s working through a particularly difficult puzzle in his head.

Eventually, he asks, “When you say ‘implied’…?”

Buck clears his throat. “Uh, I believe his exact words were, ‘Now that the competition’s out of the way.’”

Eddie opens his mouth only to close it again a beat later and Buck finally lets the anxiety gnawing at his insides consume him.

“I told him it was stupid, obviously. And that it made no sense because you were straight. And-”

“Did he think I had feelings for you or that you had feelings for me?” Eddie interrupts.

Buck frowns. In the aftermath, he’d only ever really thought about what Tommy was insinuating about him, not Eddie. “Um, the second one? Or- b-both, I guess? But it doesn’t matter, I told him-”

“It’s okay, Buck. You don’t have to convince me of anything.” Eddie’s voice is gentle when he cuts in, too much of a soft place to land that Buck can’t help the way the frustration deflates out of him.

“I know, sorry. Just- he and I haven’t really spoken since then, so…”

The room quiets around them again but Eddie doesn’t press play on the movie. Buck plays with the label on his bottle and tries desperately to ignore the weird tension in the air until-

“Have you ever thought about it?”

Buck snaps his head up, finding Eddie watching him with an inscrutable expression. “Thought about what?”

“Us. Being together.”

For a second, Buck has the horrible, churning feeling that he’s somehow been caught out – that Eddie has unravelled the thread he’s kept so tightly wound in his head with just three simple words – but then he scrambles. “Wh- But- I mean, you’re straight and-”

“What if I wasn’t?”

The words pull Buck up short and his brain short-circuits long enough that all he can manage is a dumbfounded, “What.”

“What if I wasn’t?” Eddie repeats, voice still so, so soft. “If that’s your only argument against it-”

“Is this you coming out to me?” Buck cuts in and Eddie lets out a quiet laugh.

“No. Not really. Just- take that out of the equation. Have you thought about it before?”

“Have you?” Buck asks but it sure as hell sounds like Eddie has and-

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” he echoes, throat constricting. “Whe- when is sometimes?”

Eddie shrugs and Buck feels slightly hysterical at how calm he’s being about all of this. Why is he being so calm about all of this?

“A few years ago when I was having a hard time. Back when I was working at dispatch.”

Buck remembers it. Remembers Christopher on the phone telling him he could hear yelling from Eddie’s room. Remembers breaking Eddie’s door down and that one sickening, horrifying moment where he thought Eddie was dead.

“You were taking Chris to school and making us dinner and helping me clean the house and sitting with me after therapy and we weren’t together but sometimes it felt like we were.”

For the first time since the conversation started, Eddie looks away, glancing down at the beer still in his hand. And even though it feels like his vision is swimming, Buck still sees the ghost of a smile on Eddie’s face before he continues.

“I loved you so much for it, y’know, because I really don’t think I would’ve made it through those months without you. And- I don’t know. Sometimes it felt…comforting, I guess. To think that you were my partner outside of work too.”

The words, “I am,” rise up inside his throat so fast Buck nearly bites clean through the inside of his cheek to stop them from tripping out of him. And it’s just-

He doesn’t know what to say.

He doesn’t know how to process what Eddie’s admitting to. Is he even admitting to anything? He’s admitting he took comfort in Buck’s presence, sure, but that’s not him saying he’s in love with Buck and- and it’s different. Because Buck likes men. So for him to entertain it would…would really fucking hurt, actually. And Buck is so tired of being hurt-

“So, back to my earlier question. Have you ever thought about it?”

Eddie is looking at him with wide, patient eyes. And it’s a look so full of understanding and fondness Buck can feel his throat constricting again and…

“Tommy and Maddie kind of made me think about it.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Maddie’s involved now?”

“I told her what Tommy said.”

“And what did she think?”

Buck lets out a reluctant huff and looks anywhere but Eddie’s face. “That it wouldn’t be so crazy.”

Eddie hums but doesn’t say anymore.

“So I guess I thought about why they would think that,” Buck continues, squeezing the bottle in his hand so tightly he’s afraid it actually might shatter. “And I- I get it. I think.”

It’s the understatement of the century. Because maybe he’s never let himself delve too deep into the thought but it’s only because he knows what he’d find if he did. And he can’t allow that. Can’t do anything that would risk him losing Eddie permanently. He’s too important. Buck is happy with the pieces of him that he’s allowed to have. He doesn’t need all of him, he can survive on this alone.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, finally meeting Eddie’s gaze and swallowing the lump in his throat. “We’re important to each other.”

For the first time since the conversation started, Eddie’s calm composure falls away and his face splits into a devastating smile. “Yeah, we are.”

He imagines it, then. His fingers catching in Eddie’s collar, reeling him in for a kiss. He almost thinks Eddie would kiss him back. He doesn’t actually do it because everything feels a little bit too precarious right now but-

But.

“So we’ve both thought about it,” Eddie says, voice betraying nothing even if he’s still smiling.

“Guess so,” Buck croaks in reply.

Eddie’s flicker all over his face and Buck doesn’t know what he finds there but his expression softens and he says, “We don’t have to think about it right now.”

The words come out quietly, a tentative reprieve that has all the air rushing out of Buck’s lungs.

Because this feels like the precipice of something and Buck isn’t sure if he’s ready to take the leap yet but maybe he doesn’t have to. Because maybe Eddie will wait and maybe Buck won’t look for another place to rent and he can take Chris to school again and make them all dinner and it can feel like they’re…

Partners.

He wants it so much it scares the shit out of him. He’s never even let himself imagine Eddie might want it too.

For now, he lets himself sit with the idea of maybe.

Maybe he loves Eddie. Maybe Eddie loves him back.

Maybe there was never any competition to begin with.

“Okay,” he whispers, trying for a smile that matches Eddie’s own.

Eddie ducks his head in response, the faintest pink colouring his cheeks as he picks up the remote and presses play on the movie Buck has no intention of watching anymore.

Their eyes meet once more before skittering away and Buck breathes out a laugh.

Partners. Maybe.

#buddie #my fics #anon #asks #also somewhat unrelated i keep listening to on my own from les mis #and buck and eddie really are just like #i love him. i love him. i love him. but only on my own #y'know????????????#anyway anon i hope you liked this!!!!!!!!!!

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ijustwannabecool · 14 days ago

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The Day We Met Him

Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader Summary... Four girls are chosen for a once-in-a-lifetime experience: spending a day with Lewis Hamilton as part of a Drive to Survive fan segment. Trigger Warnings: Mild language. Emotional vulnerability. Themes of privacy, media attention, and public exposure.

A/N: This story is overwhelmingly soft, supportive, and heartwarming. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. All feedback is welcomed. Have a beautiful day! Let me know if you would like another part of this story. Happy reading.

The Day We Met Him

The Netflix logo fades to black.

Then:

"Drive to Survive – Season 7, Episode 3: More Than a Champion"

The screen lights up with a shot of Silverstone Circuit, the sound of engines rumbling like thunder in the distance. But this time, instead of team radios or dramatic crash footage, it opens in a cramped London flat—four girls piled on a sofa with wide eyes and disbelief on their faces.

“Pause it. Please pause it!” Tati yells.

Mimi’s thumb fumbles over the remote. They all freeze as the frame catches their four names printed on the screen beneath the words: “Four lucky fans. One unforgettable day.”

Jules is already crying. Bella just gasps and slaps a pillow against her chest.

The camera cuts back to older footage: the moment Netflix reps arrived at their door, the pure chaos of four best friends screaming, tripping over themselves, and sobbing while a producer announced they’d been selected to spend a full day with Lewis Hamilton.

It feels like a fever dream.

Until the next scene begins.

________

The Hamilton Residence – 7:03 AM

Soft morning light pours across the floors of a sleek, airy home. Everything is warm neutrals, scattered sunlight, and signs of life—framed photos, half-filled coffee mugs, toddler socks on the stairs.

The narration begins in the background.

“Lewis Hamilton has spent the last two decades becoming one of the most iconic figures in sports history. But today, he invites us into a chapter of his life no one’s ever seen before.”

It’s quiet. Too quiet. Then you hear the faint hum of a lullaby mobile and the low murmur of a baby’s coo.

And then, he appears.

Lewis walks through the kitchen barefoot, hoodie half-zipped, rocking a baby monitor in his hand. His hair is tied in a low bun. He’s yawning. The camera catches it all: a tray of bottles near the sink, a pacifier clipped to his hoodie string, a toy giraffe under his left arm.

“Good morning, mama,” he says to someone off-screen, voice hoarse.

You step into frame, in an oversized sweatshirt and satin shorts, brushing your teeth while holding a baby bottle.

“We overslept,” you mutter with a grin.

“No such thing anymore,” he laughs. “She’s been up since five.”

The reveal is so casual it’s jarring. The camera pans across the room, catching glimpses of your baby girl crawling across a padded mat with a sleepy giggle.

It’s the first time the world sees this side of Lewis Hamilton.

The athlete. The activist. The father.

________

The car is quiet. The baby’s asleep in her car seat. Y/N hums along to a soft Frank Ocean track while Lewis drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting between them, fingers laced with hers.

“You nervous?” you ask, turning to him.

“A little,” he admits. “Never done anything like this before.”

She squeezes his hand. “Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”

They pull up to his mother’s house. She’s waiting at the door with open arms and a smile that crinkles at the edges. The hand-off is full of hugs, baby kisses, promises to call every hour.

“I don’t like being away from her,” Lewis murmurs.

“You’re not,” you say, slipping your hand around his waist. “She’s just with your first home, while you go do what you were born to do.”

The camera cuts to Lewis holding his daughter one last time. The kiss he presses to her curls. The way he doesn’t say goodbye—he says, “See you soon, starlight.”

________

Silverstone Circuit – 12:10 PM

The girls are pacing.

They’ve been given Ferrari team gear, all personalized, and lanyards with sleek black passes that say GUEST OF DRIVER – L. HAMILTON.

There are nerves in the air. Not just because they’re about to meet him—but because, somehow, they all already feel like this is going to be bigger than they imagined.

And then… he walks in.

Lewis. Real, magnetic, smiling in a way that softens his whole face.

Y/N walks a step behind, notebook in hand, chatting with a member of his team. She’s laughing at something. She looks so at ease in this world, like she belongs in every paddock, in every press pen, in every part of his life.

“Hi,” Lewis says, stepping forward and offering a handshake to each girl. “Thank you for being here. I’m really excited.”

It’s overwhelming. Not just because he’s Lewis Hamilton, but because of the way he sees them. Like they matter. Like this day is as much for him as it is for them.

________

They take turns racing against him on the sim. He laughs when Bella crashes into the wall. He gasps dramatically when Tati beats his sector time. He whoops when Jules nails a corner like a pro.

“You’ve all got better instincts than half the grid,” he jokes, clearly loving every second.

Y/N watches from the sidelines, beaming.

During a break, Mimi asks her, “Do you come to all his races?”

She nods. “Most of them. When the baby was really little, I stayed home more. But she loves the sound of engines now, so… here we are.”

“Did you ever think you’d end up in the Formula 1world?”

Y/N laughs softly. “I didn’t think I’d end up in love with someone who lived on planes. But when it’s right, it’s just… easy.”

________

They sit around a long table with Lewis at the center. The camera catches the way his hand rests against your knee under the table, the way you lean into him to whisper things no one else can hear.

He shares stories—funny, vulnerable ones. About his first go-kart. About getting lost on the way to a race in 2005. About the exact moment he knew Y/N was the one.

It’s not polished. It’s not scripted. It’s just real.

________

Golden hour hits Silverstone like magic.

The four girls stand near the pit wall, headsets on, as Lewis does a few laps around the track. Y/N leans against the rail beside them.

“Does it ever scare you?” Jules asks her.

She looks out toward the turns. “Sometimes. But he’s never reckless. And… he always comes back to me.”

________

Lewis returns from the garage, hair damp with sweat, suit unzipped halfway. He collapses into a chair and smiles as you press a water bottle to his chest.

“You were incredible,” you say quietly.

He tilts his head toward the girls. “They made today feel easy.”

The four of them sit down for their final interviews. Every interview of them is emotional, raw, full of passion and gratitud for the amazing opportunity they got to experience.

“I thought today would be about racing,” Bella says. “But it was about connection.”

“I didn’t expect to feel seen by him,” Jules adds. “But I did. All day.”

“I thought Lewis Hamilton would be cool,” Tati grins. “But I didn’t expect him to feel like… someone you’d want to text goodnight.”

“He’s more than a driver,” Mimi whispers. “He’s someone’s home.”

________

The Hamilton Residence – 9:03 PM

Lewis and Y/N sit on the couch later that night, baby monitor between them, baby socks on the table, your legs draped over his lap.

He kisses your hand and looks straight into the camera.

“Winning feels good,” he says. “But this—my family, our life—this is what makes everything else worth it. Now get out! We have a new season of Love on The Spectrum to watch.”

________

The Aftermath

It starts before the sun even rises.

3:41 AM

Tati’s phone buzzes. Then again. Then again.

She groans, blindly reaching for it from under her duvet. Twenty notifications. All from Twitter. All tagged with her username.

Her eyes adjust to the screen just in time to read one tweet that sets her heart racing.

“WAIT. LEWIS HAMILTON HAS A BABY? A WHOLE BABY???”

She blinks.

“That fan episode on Drive to Survive is changing LIVES.” “So we all just collectively missed that Lewis Hamilton is married and a DAD?” “That baby had hair. That baby has been around.”

Tati bolts upright. “GUYS,” she shouts, already tripping over her blanket as she runs to the living room.

4:02 AM

Bella, Jules, and Mimi are already huddled around the TV, eyes wide, hair messy, phones buzzing every second with new mentions and tags. Their group chat has blown up. TikTok edits are already circulating. Screengrabs of Lewis holding a pacifier. GIFs of Y/N laughing while feeding the baby. Fan theories. Reaction threads. F1 accounts going feral.

And the kicker?

A video clip from the episode— Y/N saying, “She’s just with your first home, while you go do what you were born to do.”

Someone captioned it:

“Y/N Hamilton is literally so cute. Lewis really won at life with her as his life partner.”

________

Hamilton Residence – Morning

Y/N stirs awake to the sound of Lewis's voice somewhere down the hall, talking softly into the phone.

“Yeah, Mum. We’re okay… Just a little overwhelmed… No, she’s still asleep.”

You blink against the sunlight and sit up slowly, the baby monitor quiet beside you. For a second, it doesn’t register. The stillness. The weight of what they’d shared with the world. Then your phone lights up.

412 unread messages.

You don’t even open Instagram. You already know it’s chaos.

By the time you wander into the kitchen, Lewis is finishing a call and cradling a mug of tea, his phone face-down beside him.

“Morning, love,” he says gently. “How you feeling?”

You shrug. “Like we just let eight billion people into our house.”

He chuckles, coming over to press a kiss to your forehead. “They liked what they saw.”

You eye him, teasing. “I think they liked what they saw on you, Hamilton. I saw someone call you ‘Daddy squared.’”

He groans and hides his face in your neck. “Make it stop.”

“You started it,” you grin, wrapping your arms around him. “You wanted the world to see who you really are.”

“I didn’t think it would hit this hard.”

The moment softens. Lewis pulls back and searches your face, serious now.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “With the baby being public? With us being out there like that?”

You pause for a long moment, then nod.

“I’m okay. A little exposed, maybe. But… I think it was time. I want people to know the version of you I get to see every day.”

He looks at you for a long beat, like he’s memorizing the way you said that.

Then he whispers, “I love you, you know that?”

You press your palm to his chest. “I know. And I love you right back.”

________

Social Media – Throughout the Day

TikTok: “lewis hamilton being a girl dad for 3 minutes straight”

Instagram: A new fan account called @TeamHamiltonHome already has 20k followers by lunchtime

Twitter: “When Y/N Hamilton said ‘She’s just with your first home’ I actually ascended into another dimension.”

Even other drivers are chiming in.

Charles Leclerc posts a story: “Didn’t expect to cry at 7am over Lewis Hamilton rocking a baby.”

Max Verstappen tweets: “Welcome to the Dad Club, mate 👶🔥”

Sebastian Vettel, in rare Instagram form, posts an old photo of Lewis cradling a helmet and captions it:

“Always knew you’d be a softie off-track too.”

________

Girls’ Apartment – That Night

The four friends are still in pajamas, surrounded by takeout containers and ring lights they didn’t mean to set up but couldn’t resist. They’ve been answering Q&As on Instagram all day, doing interviews with local press, and trying to process the fact that they had front-row seats to a life-changing reveal.

“I think my favorite moment was when he said thank you for making the day easy,” Jules says, curled into a blanket. “Like we made a difference to him.”

“I still can’t believe Y/N hugged me twice,” Mimi laughs. “She smelled like coconut and cashmere and I think I blacked out.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t cry on camera,” Bella says.

“You did,” Tati corrects. “They just edited it out.”

They all laugh.

Then, silence.

Not the awkward kind. The full-heart kind.

“I don’t think anything’s ever going to top this,” Bella whispers.

“Nope,” Jules says, smiling at the ceiling. “This was the moment. Everything before it led us here.”

Mimi hums in agreement. “We met our hero. And he was everything we hoped he’d be.”

“And more,” Tati adds. “He let us into his world.”

“And now?” Bella asks.

They all look at each other.

Jules answers softly: “Now we protect it.”

________

Final shot:

A quiet moment back at Lewis and Y/N’s home. The baby asleep on his chest. Y/N asleep beside them, hand resting on his. The camera lingers.

“Some things are meant to be shared with the world,” Lewis says in a voiceover. “But the best things—the most sacred things—those are the ones you hold closest.”

Fade to black.

THE END.

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 19 days ago

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This is so self-inserted but don't mind me

Apparently when i crash out i write lmao

Frank castle is my new love at this point so please send in request! I'm also taking request for bucky barnes and Logan howlett still <3

Frank Castle dealing with you while you study

Frank hates when you overwork yourself, so he started to just observe you.

It started small he would come home at an actual reasonable time for once and you were at the kitchen table working away. The first thing that crosses his mind is Oh shit it must be serious. You warned him when you first started seeing each other that if you were at the kitchen table that meant you had a huge amount of work to do. He's never seen it in action before but now that he's face to face with it...he kind of wishes he was still out working.

NOT THAT HE DOESN'T WANT TO SUPPORT YOU! but at first, you scared the shit out of him with how intense you were working. You had such an angry look on your face, and music was blaring in your headphones, loud enough he could hear the song from where he was standing and loud enough he was concerned for your hearing.

Usually, you raced to him to give him some sort of affection when he got home, now you haven't even lifted your head to meet his eyes. He approached you in the same way he would approach an injured animal.

"Babydoll? Have you been working since you got home?" He cringed at the question as his eyes drift to the clock on the microwave to see that you got home six hours ago. Thankfully his eyes went back to your form in time to see you nod weakly. A harsh sigh tumble past his lips before he could stop himself.

You were fearful that he was going to just close your laptop but instead he walked behind you and opened the fridge. Silently he started to dance around the kitchen and began a quick dinner he knew you'd enjoy and that would help fuel his dolls body.

He does eventually close your laptop, but it is in exchange for a plate of food. Sitting next to you, he eats in near silence as he listens to you rant about your workload and how overwhelmed and unsupported you feel with your college. He nods and gives his short phrases of support that let you know he hasn't tuned you out as he starts to mentally plan a study set up for you.

The following day, you had the day off and had originally planned to just spend the day cooped up in the house working, but Frank had very different plans. He took the entire day off and woke you up with coffee. "I have a few errands to run, sweetheart, nothing crazy, but I was wondering if you could come with me?" He nods along with your protest and mumbles a few I knows before justifying his request. "I know you're drowning in work right now, but you know I don't know everything I need to pick up at the pharmacy and that lady always gives me those dirty looks that you hate...she doesn't do that with you there." He gives his best puppy eyes and squeezes your hips softly to help sway you into agreeing, and he even "agrees" for it to just be the one quick errand.

But...since you're already out might as well get some lunch right? Neither of you had breakfast, and now it's nearly 1. "We need to eat, sweetheart," he says as he pulls into the diners parking lot.

The two of you get home around 3, and you were pissed. He handled the attitude you gave him since he took you out pretty early in the morning, but he was pleased with himself. He knew you got fresh air, some exercise and an actual meal so he backs off for you to work until dinner...which will be at a responsible time he'd be damned if you didn't eat until midnight again.

But this man is a man of observation through and through. He will just wander into the kitchen every few hours to make sure you are still breathing and not having a breakdown. Usually, he is met with you in the same position he left you in the last time he checked in but sometimes there is clear frustration on your face, and those times are when he softly closes the laptop and asks for some attention. "Baby, all I'm asking is 15 minutes. C'mon, how is a 15-minute cuddle break going to kill you?"

He's sneaky. He knows your soft spot for him, and he uses that to his advantage.

And when you are done with all the work and have passed the class, he rewards you in the only way he can, and all of the sudden all the work is worth it when you can hear his soft whispers of praise throughout the night.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #the punisher imagine #the punisher x reader #the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle headcanons #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #ddba #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal #frank castle oneshot #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fluff #the punisher fluff #daredevil born again #daredevil

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month ago

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Crashed the car, people pulling over, thinking we were dead

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @dizzybee03 @nowandajenn

Prequel to:

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Frank’s biggest regret isn’t that he almost got you fired, it’s the fact he almost got you killed the month before.

The two of you were heading out to New Hope for a couple of days to get away from the city when he crashed his car through a guard rail and into a ditch.

I swerved to avoid a deer, he had told the cop at the scene. You’d been unable to confirm nor deny the story because you’d been asleep in the passenger seat at the time.

The reality is right before the drive he’d popped a couple of benzos. He’d been planning to propose that night at the River House and needed a little something to take the edge off his anxiety.

Instead of the romantic evening he’d envisioned, you’d spent the night in a different emergency room having a 4 inch forearm laceration stitched up from the windshield glass. He’d sworn to himself he was done after that, that he’d flush the rest of his stash and get clean but two days later he can’t sleep and his hands are shaking so badly he can barely get the pills in his mouth to swallow them.

It's a year later that he finds the ring, tucked away in the back of his underwear drawer where he used to hide his pills. His chest aches as he holds it between his fingers because that night, it should have been the best of his life, instead it had almost been the worst.

Love Frank? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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#frank langdon #frank langdon x reader #doctor frank langdon #doctor frank langdon x reader #dr langdon #dr langdon x reader #the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt 2025 #the pitt fanfiction

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drdemonprince · 1 year ago

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potentially triggering but ultimately harm reductionist statement about how people treat those with suicide ideation below, just a warning!

it's pretty fuckin rich that people tell suicidal people that they're "being selfish" by wanting to die, because it could not be more selfish to expect someone to just continue suffering through a life they do not want simply because their death would make them sad.

the people who say that kind of thing never want to offer any genuine help to the suicidal person that will change their life circumstances in a lasting way. they never want to house them, get them medical care, pay off their debts, introduce them to new friends, nurse them through a years-long trauma recovery process, get them a pet, drive them to a support group every week, buy them their groceries, clean their house, listen to them talk about their tough feelings for the millionth time.

lasting healing within a dramatically different and better life is never what they want for the suicidal person. they just want the person to not do anything that would make them sad. and not look too sad when they are around them, either, because even if they do white-knuckle their way through a painful existence, they are expected to also make it look easy.

but it's funny, isn't it, that by pushing away all thoughts of sadness, all thoughts of suicide, the person who says such a dismissive thing to the suicidal person is revealing how much they are on the brink of despair themselves. if, when faced with a suicidal person, your number one goal is to prevent their suicide for the sake of your own emotions rather than to improve circumstances for the suicidal person themselves, well, your own emotional grip on reality must be quite tenuous indeed. if you think the most important emotionally reality about a suicide is how it impacts you and not the person that has done it, well, you really must think that it's normal to expect other people to just constantly silently suffer for one another.

there's almost a bit of sick envy that i sometimes hear when people claim that they suicidal are "selfish." the statement almost seems to betray that everybody thinks of suicide at one point or another, that everyone has been in enough pain before that they've wished for it to end, but that since they have endured, they expect everyone else to endure the same for them, so that they don't slip into despair again as well.

it's so offensive because it is such a deeply missed opportunity. instead of batting away the statements of a suicidal person as if they were the greatest, most evil taboo, a person could really sit with them in their despair and say hey, I have felt that way too.

If only we lived in a world where acknowledgement of suicide ideation was not so taboo. Even psychologists and psychiatrists treat it as this untouchable thing, they freak out and jump into action and rob you of your body autonomy if you are willing to voice that you have thought of it. but virtually everyone has thought of it at one point or another, and some live with thoughts of it all the time forever but still have basically decent lives that they experience as worthwhile.

the legal apparatus that exists to prevent suicides at all costs have made it too risky for any kind of healthcare professional to allow the frank acknowledgement of suicide ideation to happen. hell, even the protections that have evolved online to supposedly "protect" suicidal people by filtering out content about suicide and redirecting those browsing for information about it to suicide prevention resourcse has, counterproductively, served to make the state of suicidality even more unspeakable. it cannot be spoken about, cannot be posted about, cannot be acknowledged, is not permitted, is never allowed to just be.

and that harms suicidal people so much.

we are so deeply selfish and cowardly in how we approach suicide and suicidal people.

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mylittleredgirl · 1 year ago

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i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog with the rest of it is here!]

#margaret houlihan #mash #mashblogging #margaret is a holy hot mess and i love her sooooo much

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strawhbrrries · 2 years ago

Note

domestic frank seeing his girl after she’s just come back from a girls night out and she’s a little tipsy and giggly rambling about how much she loves him and how happy she is with him whilst he’s trying to help her get ready for bed :’)

screaming and crying and throwing up, im so glad someone else had these thoughts <3 lots of sweet frankie under the cut!!!!

You weren’t sure who called him or when he showed up, but god he smelled good. He big, strong arms supporting about ninety percent of your weight as he walked the two of you from the car and into the house.

“Frankie!! You smell so good.” Your words were soon followed by a hiccup and some other things neither of you could quite understand.

“C’mon baby, in the house.” Is all he responded, lifting you up the stairs of the porch and avoiding any falling that may have occurred if he let you climb them yourself.

He took your purse and any other accessory he could find and set it on the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass of water and a small snack to help counter, what he was sure was, an empty stomach.

“Missed you so much.” You slurred, clumsily taking off your shoes and smiling up at him proudly when you didn’t fall in the process.

“I missed you too, come drink this water for me, okay?” Frank motioned for you to come over, the space between you and the island counter wasn’t that far so he trusted you enough to make it over there.

“M’kay.”

He stood there and watched you drink the entire glass and eat the entire snack he set out, making sure you swallowed it all and didn’t choke, he felt like a father. He loved you too much to risk you choking on a fucking cracker because you forgot how to swallow, in your inebriated state.

When he had gotten the phone call from you about how much you loved him and how glad you were to have him, he knew it was time to pick you up. He knew how much you loved girls night but at some point, your old man, had enough and wanted you back.

“Let’s go get changed for bed, you need to take your meds too.” He grabbed your hand softly and led you to the bedroom, yet again supporting most of your weight but he didn’t mind.

“Can we have sex?” You blurted out, slapping your hand over your mouth and bursting into a fit of giggles. “That was supposed to stay in my head.”

He smiled softly at you and sat you down on the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead before changing you into your pajamas for the night. He disappears momentarily before coming back with a paper cup of water and your nightly meds, taking the cup away once you had taken the meds.

“C’mere funny girl, let’s rest.” He climbed into the bed and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your arm softly as a way to coax you into sleeping.

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burnthatbridge · 7 months ago

Text

we keep this love in a photograph

buddie | T | 2k Eddie comes out. Hen downloads him a dating app. Chim writes his bio. Buck supplies the photos.

When Eddie comes out, everyone is supportive.

Chris, the first person he tells after Frank, hugs him and says, “I’m proud of you, dad,” and Eddie can’t help it, he sobs.

He manages not to cry when he tells Buck, but the same cannot be said about Buck himself, who smiles so wide it dislodges the tears from his eyes, and they run down his cheeks.

When he tells the team, Chimney claps a hand on his shoulder, Bobby pulls him into a hug, Hen immediately invites him to come over and have drinks with her and Karen. And the rest of the 118 is as kind and understanding as you would expect of a house fostered under Bobby’s warmth.

Everyone is supportive, which is great, really. Its just– Everyone is a little too supportive.

Ravi starts trying to set Eddie up with his — entirely too young — friends.

Tommy starts trying to set Eddie up with his — entirely age-appropriate — friends.

Even Maddie gets involved, inviting Josh to a dinner at her and Chim’s, one Buck had invited Eddie to, and siting Josh beside him in a pointed attempt at something that would resemble an awful double date if Buck wasn’t on his other side, talking enthusiastically, with his mouth full of potato.

And then the team decides he needs to join a dating app, and they simply have to help him with his profile. “We’re pros at this,” Chim announces, as Buck relieves Eddie of his phone, unlocks it, and hands it over to Hen. “We did this for Bobby years ago.”