#you know? the things that stop people from sharing the painful secrets in their heart?

[htsparrowheart]

"Mia kind of sucked actually" yeah geez she only grew up in a resentful death cult, got parentified at age 12, fled the only home she's ever known to avoid being pitted against that same sibling she had to raise, graduated law school alone, overcame trauma and depression to start a successful law firm alone in her mid-20's, and spent whatever free time she had researching emotionally painful cold cases and planning to take down a corrupt CEO. even if therapists existed in the trilogy (real therapy, not Athena's bs), when would Mia have had the time? she covered an incredible amount of ground just breaking free of Kurain and adapting to the world outside the village - again, without anyone she could entirely trust to catch her if she fell. but still, she changed and grew as a person in just the 3-year span we knew her. she got much better at managing her anxious and aggressive tendencies. she was more openly supportive toward Phoenix than any adult was to her. and she was literally TRYING to open up more to Phoenix and Maya on the night she died, by introducing those two halves of her life to each other despite the risks! if Mia Fey "sucked", then how high a standard should women be held to, hmm?

[retrosabers]

𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a little bit of everything. some relationship fluff, a bit of angst (mentions of death and past trauma), very flirty and filthy logan, 18+ CONTENT AT THE BOTTOM. MINORS DNI (body worship, praise kink, pain kink, dirty talk to the nines.)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: not me posting something for the first time in a) over a month and b) in 2025 😍😍

it’s been ROUGH in the brain and writing department for me, and this is the best i could come up with right now. i hope i can get back in my real groove soon, i miss writing real bad.

in the mean time, please enjoy my wolvie brain dump. feel free to share any of your own personal hcs in the comments or reblogs!!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

he’s secret tea drinker. always drinks coffee (no cream no sugar; nasty ass) in the morning but also drinks tea at night. though nothing can fully calm him down in the evening, the tea does relax him in some capacity, and logan takes whatever reprieve he can get. plus it was one of the first things you started doing together, so it’s become a part of his routine he can’t be without.

typically the first person up, and the last person in bed. you’d think logan wouldn’t be a morning person, but he’s surprisingly at ease in the early hours. as relaxed as someone like him could get, anyways.

likes to read a lot. he was in complete awe of the mansion’s library the first time he saw it. will often sneak in when no one’s around and read for an hour or two by the window if he’s got the time. when you discover he’s a secret bookworm, you start to leave a book on his desk that you think he’ll enjoy every once in a while. it’s a small gesture logan holds very near and dear to his heart.

can’t remember people’s birthdays or important dates to save his life BUT can recall something minor in a fleeting conversation from a long time ago. also remembers very random useless facts that have actually come in handy on more than one occasion.

if and when logan sleeps, he snores. so. fucking. LOUD, to the point where it can wake people up depending on how close quarters are. he denies it constantly.

likes to make sure his deodorant and cologne have the same general scent (i just know he smells like a sexy ass manly man URGH).

a lot of people hc him as a history professor but i have a hot take: gym teacher logan. not in the typical “let’s run laps and play dodgeball” way, but in the sense that he teaches the kids how to control and utilize their mutations to their advantage (with help from the rest of the xmen of course), and maybe even some light sparring to practice self defense. i personally just don’t see the history teacher thing working out because i fear he would subconsciously be reliving a LOT of trauma.

gets really anxious whenever someone is sick or injured. he’s been gravely reminded before that not everyone is indestructible like he is, and it scares him to see others get hurt in any capacity, because he’s terrified of losing them. the first time you get seriously wounded on a mission? logan damn near wears his boots down to the sole from pacing back and forth outside the medbay so much. he can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he can’t focus on anything other than you. time stops for him; and won’t resume until he’s certain you’re going to be okay.

legitimately purrs like a cat if you scratch his head just the right way. he will once again deny this until the end of time, but with less resistance and a much more flushed complexion.

“whatever,” he mumbles into your stomach, while guiding your nails back to his scalp.

hates ANY music made after the year 2000, but anything before that he’s pretty keen on. he’s got his preferences for sure (a little country, some rock, and maybe a bit of bluegrass), but isn’t above admitting that a pop tune is a little catchy from time to time.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

you better not even THINK about ever opening a door for yourself ever again because if you do he’s taking personal offense to it.

he may be a slut in the sheets but he’s a near perfect gentlemen in the streets. i’m talking walking on the outside of the sidewalk at all times, always helping you out of the car even if you don’t need it, carrying your jacket or shoes after a night out, making sure you’re obscured from view if you need to adjust a revealing top; any chivalrous boyfriend thing you can think of, and he’s done it. with suaveness, might i add.

“here honey, gimme that, i got it.”

“hold on a second sweetheart, your strap’s all twisted.”

the definition of “you fell first but he fell harder.”

makes it a point to take you on a “real date” outside the mansion once or twice a month because he knows how much you enjoy getting dressed up for different occasions. whether that be dinner, dancing (yes, if you beg hard enough he’ll go dancing with you), and maybe even a trip to the museum or planetarium.

both the big and little spoon, it depends on the day, but he’s an insane cuddler either way. a human teddy bear for you and only you. this? he won’t deny, not for a second. and he’ll tell anyone who cares to tease him about it to fuck off.

always touching you in some capacity. a gentle caress on the back of your neck, or cold palms sliding underneath your sweater, logan has no qualms about being a bit handsy.

“if your girl looked like this, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her either.”

his favorite (and yours too secretly) is a hand in the back pocket of your jeans. there’s something equally sweet and sultry about it that makes your stomach flutter every time. a slightly possessive gesture, that when coupled with a cocky smirk and a shameless squeeze, never fails to drive you wild.

you thought he was a worry wart about your safety before you were dating? it amplifies by a million when you’re together, almost to the point of annoyance because he’s adamant on not letting you out of his sight. eventually after a few arguments and a scolding from charles, you remind him that you’re perfectly capable of handling things on your own, and yes, sometimes he does need to look out for you, just in case.

SMUT:

handsy logan = body worship logan. this man will make it his life mission to appreciate every single inch of your body. he doesn’t care if you’re tangled in between sheets for hours on end. you’re not leaving the bed until you know just how much he’s smitten with every part of you.

pain kink king who will cum significantly faster if you break skin with your nails raking down arms or back. gets an immediate hard on when you slap him in the middle of a dangerously intense argument, and implores you to do it again in a dark, lust driven tone.

to make up for the fact that you can’t mark your territory, with logan’s regenerative capabilities and all, he goes above and beyond to mark his. this man leaves hickies everywhere, and i mean everywhere. your hip bones, your navel, damn near the entirety of your sternum, your neck essentially a human canvas that he gladly paints in brilliant hues of lavender.

he may be a man of few words with most, but with you? logan can never shut the fuck up about how good you make him feel.

“look at you. doin’ so good for me honey.” “y’feel like fuckin’ heaven, you know that?” “my perfect girl. made just for me.”

cannot handle when you return the favor. immediately shoves his flushed face into whatever part of your body he can find and picks up the pace. praise is another surefire way to get logan to blow his load in record time. he thinks it’s a little embarrassing but you think it’s SO HOT.

loves a good tummy bulge OOP who said that

really enjoys sex in the shower or bath. there’s an additional layer of intimacy with it that makes logan particularly warm in the chest. will often suggest round two in the bathroom so he not only has the pleasure of ruining you again, but helping gently put you back together with a tenderness reserved only for you.

the ceo of teasing. loves to watch you get all flustered and squirmy so you best believe he’s teasing the fuck out of you any chance he gets. logan’s got wandering hands and a filthy mouth and that he uses to his advantage both in and out of the bedroom.

“what if i bent you over this desk, right here right now, hm? would you like that?”

“your skirt’s real pretty baby. think it would look a lot better on the floor of my room.”

“been thinkin’ about you all day. gonna let me fuck you real good later?”

aftercare is a learning curve. he’s not completely careless the first time you have sex, but he’s not as caring and attentive as he knows he probably should be. logan was used to quick one night stands, not getting intimate with someone he had romantic feelings for. once he realizes how in-deep he is with you, he takes the time to learn the ins and outs of true aftercare.

* for more smut headcanons, check out my logan nsfw alphabet here*

thanks for reading! <3

[buckybabesonly]

as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)

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

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.

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.

“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.”

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.

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.

"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.

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."

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.

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.”

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.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Thinking about: Best friends to lovers with K.SY

💭Who: Kwon Soonyoung (Seventeen) x reader 💭What: Angst. Fluff. Best friends to lovers. 💭Wordcount: 1.5k 💭Warnings: Soonyoung thinks his love is unreciprocated. But he’s still the best friend he can be💗. They’re kinda both oblivious idiots, even if that’s not explicitly shown, they are, trust me. 💭Summary: “He thought he could do it; he really did. It’s not like he hasn’t done this exact thing many times in the past either, so he thought it would just be like any other time.

But everyone has their breaking point and this, this is Soonyoung’s.”

Masterlist

No matter how many times you two have done this, Soonyoung can’t get used to it.

Can’t get used to the care you put into your outfit, your hair. Can’t get used to the way your eyes sparkle with nervous anticipation. Can’t get used to the way your lips spread wide in an excited smile. Can’t get used to the way his heart aches and yearns to be the one you’re doing this for.

No matter how many times Soonyoung watches you get ready to go on a date with someone else, he can’t stop wishing it’s him you’re so eager to see.

Still, he helps you pick clothes with fake enthusiasm, smiles at you with false shared joy, tells you you’re beautiful with nothing but truth in his tender heart.

And he yearns. And he aches. And he can’t do it anymore.

There’s no saying what sets him off today, why today of all days Soonyoung snaps. There’s nothing that stands out; the outfit isn’t anything special, the planned date isn’t anything special, the person taking you on said date isn’t anything special either.

You’ve been on dates with rich people, extremely talented people, people who have their life together, and Soonyoung has always managed to just bite his tongue and smile through it all despite feeling like utter shit knowing that he is nowhere near as impressive as those people.

But tonight, dressed just a little nicer than an average day, to go out on a casual third date dinner with just an average man, Soonyoung breaks.

It happens slowly; the light dims in his eye and his smile gradually slips away into a pained frown as he watches you obliviously twist and turn in front of the mirror for one final outfit check.

He’s watching you, has been watching you, from where he’s sprawled across your bed amongst discarded clothes as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. And it’s partially true, but not like this.

Soonyoung wants to lay across your bed watching you get ready to go on dates with him; he wants to watch you get ready only to pull you down and smother you in kisses and his endless love to the point that you’re late for your reservation so might as well just stay home. Just the two of you tucked up in each other’s arms where you belong, but he can’t.

And he breaks.

“I can’t do this,” he realises in a broken whisper as he slowly sits up, pushing off various pieces of clothing from where they’re draped over his body to give him the freedom to move without taking them with him. Abandons them behind him on the bed with the pieces of him he forfeits every time he has to watch you preen yourself for someone else.

“Do what, Soonie?” You wonder, talking in such a gentle, caring tone that it pushes him over even faster.

You always treat him so well, with so much love, and he will never ask for more, he truly appreciates how you treat him and loves every moment of your affection, yet it’s not the love he desires so much, the love he wants to give to you.

With a few heavy, frustrated breaths as all the secret yearning bursts out from his body, he gets to his feet and throws his hands up to motion between you vaguely. “This! You and me! I can’t fucking do it anymore! It’s driving me insane!”

Your tone is even quieter when you speak, weak with impending heartbreak. “You don’t want to be my friend anymore?”

“What?” He looks at you as if you’re crazy. “I didn’t say that. And I’m your best friend, not just any other average friend! Don’t demote me!”

“You are,” you confirm without hesitation, seeming more yourself again now that he’s soothed your fear that he’s ending your friendship without warning. “And I hope you always will be.”

“Me too,” he replies with nothing but sincerity. Soonyoung wants to always be by your side; lover or not, he wants to be your best friend through it all. The person you always turn to for support or fun, he wants to be that for you.

But it’s not all he wants to be to you, for you.

“Then what do you mean, Soonyoung; what can’t you do anymore?”

He stares at you for a moment, features heavy with the weight of his aching heart, before he looks away, unable to look you in the eye as he gets ready to open his chest and show you how his insides are painted with you.

“I can’t come over and help you get ready for dates anymore, not…not unless they…” He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms over his torso to grip his elbows in an attempt to keep himself together; to remain in one piece long enough to tell you the truth, with the hope that he won’t be too broken by your rejection in the end. “I thought I could do this; put on a smile and pick out outfits to make you look pretty for someone ese. Not that you don’t look pretty without it because you do, you’re always pretty, fucking beautiful and it drives me crazy. I can’t look at you sometimes because I just don’t know how to handle how beautiful you are.”

Soonyoung squeezes his eyes tightly shut and turns his head down to the carpet to avoid seeing your reaction as he carries on talking about all the things he likes about you.

The way you stick your cold hands on his neck with a cackle.

The way you always have his favourite kimchi in the fridge despite not liking that brand yourself.

The way you send him photos of anything tiger related when you’re out because you know he’ll love it.

The way your hair always falls out of your messy updos, and you always give him a sweet, little smile when he brushes the strands out of your face.

The way you make him feel like everything will be okay so long as he has you by his side.

To Soonyoung, it feels as if he spends hours standing in the middle of your bedroom in the fading daylight as he bares his very soul to you. His mouth feels dry and throat thick by the time he trails off, knowing that although he can spend the rest of his life listing everything he adores about you, he hasn’t yet said the important part; the part you need to hear to truly understand.

After taking a deep, steadying breath, Soonyoung opens his eyes and looks up at you, not even registering that you’ve moved closer despite now being just out of arm’s reach. “The point is, I can’t sit here and help you get ready to go off with other people when I want it to be me who you get ready for. I want to be the only person who has your interest and attention, but I know that’s not going to happen and I’m not going to be an asshole and try to stop you from seeing other people so I’m going to stop coming around before your dates now. Okay?”

For a tense handful of seconds, you two just stare at one another.

Soonyoung truly looks torn open and deflated where he stands slouched with his head barely lifted enough to look at you with downturned features, whereas you look…well honestly Soonyoung can’t tell what you look like and it’s beyond puzzling. He thought he knows all your expressions by now.

Just when he opens his mouth and starts to questioningly say your name to prompt you into responding, you blink back to life.

“You like me?” You ask simply.

“I’m in love with you.”

Soonyoung watches bewilderedly as a smile slowly blooms on your face before you’re suddenly moving closer to grasp his face in your tender yet secure hold. “Fucking finally,” you breathe out before pulling him in to meet you in a searing kiss.

A surprised noise leaves Soonyoung’s throat as his hands hover in the air out at his sides and his wide eyes stare in pure shock at your closed eyes directly in front of him. And then he melts. Closes his eyes and holds onto your waist as he tilts into you and kisses back, pouring every drop of love into his actions.

His heart futters, fixes itself as it feeds and swells with the love he feels falling from your own lips against him.

Overcome with joy, Soonyoung breaks the kiss to wrap his arms around your waist and lift you off your feet, spinning you around and around with laughter falling from both of your lips until you tumble down onto your bed in a heap and hold each other with matching bright smiles and sparkling eyes.

Soonyoung thinks he can’t possibly be any happier, but then you open your mouth and prove him wrong.

“For the record, I’m in love with you too.”

He’s never been so happy to be wrong in his life.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[keehomania]

girl ur literally my fav nct writer 🫶🫶 i just wanted u to know that i appreciate u answering the asks wholeheartedly hehe. in a mark lee brainrot rn, dom!mark x reader 🫡🫡

MARK LEE (마크이) — SWEETHEART (18+)

✧ MDNI

it had been perfect—like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. your relationship with jaehyun was everything that love songs were written about, the kind of smooth sailing people envied from the sidelines. it was golden, wrapped in honeyed moments, soft whispers, and lazy smiles shared in the glow of a setting sun. the two of you painted a life together, each day a new canvas, filled with color, warmth, and comfort. nights were spent with heads tilted back, eyes tracing the stars, mapping constellations in the inky blackness, sharing secrets that were only meant for the sky to hear.

paris was your sanctuary. the rented hotel room had the scent of wine lingering in the walls, cigarettes lazily curling in the air like an afterthought. it was there that you learned how to make jam by hand, the two of you laughing at the mess you created, fingers sticky with sugar and fruit. you remember the way jaehyun kissed your wrist, tasting the sweetness as if it were the only thing that mattered. those moments were pure. untainted. until they weren’t.

it wasn’t the heart-wrenching kind of betrayal you had heard about—where tears flood your eyes and your chest aches so much you can barely breathe. no, it was quieter. like a slow unraveling, a ribbon pulling apart from the fabric of your life, thread by thread. he had been cheating, living a double life that you were blissfully unaware of. the weight of it didn’t crash into you all at once, but it sank, settling deep inside your chest, colder than anything you had ever felt. you weren’t shattered—you were numb. how could he have done it? how could you have been so blind, so foolish, to miss the signs that were right in front of you? it was enough to make your head spin, the world tilting on an axis you no longer recognized.

the days blurred together after that, a haze of distraction and feigned indifference. you got on quicker than you thought possible, faster than anyone expected. maybe it was because you hadn’t truly felt the pain, or maybe because you didn’t want to. either way, you moved forward. it was easier to pretend that nothing ever hurt at all.

mark, though—he had prayed for this. he would never say it aloud, not even in the deepest, darkest corners of his mind. but he had. every time he saw you with jaehyun, every time he watched the way you kissed him, the way you melted into him, something inside mark twisted. and he prayed. he prayed that your perfect relationship would crumble, that something, anything, would cause a fracture, a break that could pull you apart.

he never wanted to admit it to himself. what kind of friend did that make him? jaehyun was his best friend—one of the only people he had ever truly trusted. but how could he look away when all he could think about was you? the way your hips swayed in the jeans jaehyun bought for you, the way your lips wrapped around the popsicles mark had handed you on a hot summer day. it was wrong. he knew it was wrong, but it didn’t stop him. something had been unlocked inside him, something dark, something he hadn’t known was there. and now that it was free, he couldn’t lock it away. he didn’t want to. no one else had to know, not yet. but you would. soon enough. he was ready to introduce that side of himself to you.

“fucking slut,” mark’s voice was low, dripping with something dangerous as his hand tightened around your throat. his thumb pressed into that sweet spot just beneath your jaw, the one that made your vision blur and your breath hitch. you could barely think, barely process the rush of heat between your legs, the pressure of his knee grinding into you, sending shockwaves through your body. there was nothing between you but the thin fabric of your panties and his jeans, and you were soaking, drenching his knee with your desire.

“is that what you are? a slut?” his words were a hiss, dripping with venom and amusement. you were, and you had only just begun to realize it. not in the way you might have thought before—this was something deeper, darker, something that only Mark had drawn out of you. you weren’t some naïve virgin, far from it. you had done this countless times with jaehyun, but it had never felt like this. he had always been too soft, too careful with you, like you were made of glass, fragile and delicate. it was almost ironic, given the way he had shattered everything with his lies and betrayal.

but mark was different. loud, funny, hyperactive—that was what everyone saw. that was what you had seen. this, though? this was something else entirely. something darker, something you’d never have expected from him. but you had learned your lesson about judging people by appearances. “yeah,” you rasped, your voice barely more than a breath as his grip on your throat tightened, sending another pulse of heat straight between your legs. “just for you.”

he scoffed, his lips curling into a smirk as his hand trailed upward, his grip loosening just enough to let you breathe, but not enough to let you think. his thumb tapped roughly against your lips, a silent command, and without hesitation, you parted them. the moment your mouth opened, he shoved his thumb inside, groaning when he felt your tongue curl around it, wet and obedient.

“you should see yourself right now,” he murmured, his voice low and taunting. his eyes flickered over your face, watching the way your lips wrapped around his thumb, your eyes glazed with lust. “he should see you right now.”

the shame that pooled in your stomach twisted into something darker, something far more exhilarating. the thought of jaehyun walking in, seeing you like this, seeing his best friend ruin you—god, it turned you on more than you wanted to admit. a part of you wanted it to happen, wanted him to see how far gone you were, how much you had fallen.

“he should, actually,” mark repeated, the dark glint in his eyes growing more intense. he pulled his thumb from your mouth, the slick wetness of your saliva still glistening on his skin. you watched in a haze as he reached for his phone, sitting on the edge of the desk. he picked it up with a smirk, his eyes locking with yours, daring you to protest.

“what do you think, princess?” his voice was a murmur now, a purr, as his fingertips traced the bare skin of your thighs, sending shivers racing up your spine. you could feel your heart pounding, could feel the weight of the decision hanging in the air between you. and yet, despite everything, despite the shame, despite the humiliation, you wanted it. you needed it. so you nodded. mark chuckled, the sound dry and amused, like he had expected nothing less. “exactly what i thought,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours as he swiped the screen, fingers moving with ease as he pressed record.

mark’s grip on your throat tightened again, his thumb pressing down hard enough to make your pulse stutter, your vision blurring at the edges as the air thinned in your lungs. he reveled in your reactions, the way your lips parted, the small gasps and moans slipping out, desperate for more, needing more. there was a sick pleasure in the way he controlled you, the way he had you falling apart beneath his touch, completely at his mercy.

“look at you,” he sneered, his voice low and cruel as his eyes flickered from the phone screen to your face. the red light on the camera blinked steadily, capturing every moment, every sound, every filthy thing he did to you. “fucking pathetic. you think jaehyun could ever fuck you like this? like you deserve?” his words sent another wave of heat rushing through you, shame and arousal twisting together in a way that made your heart race, your core clenching with need. you couldn’t answer, not with the way his hand was wrapped around your throat, but the way you writhed beneath him said enough. you needed this. you needed him.

mark shifted his weight, his knee pressing harder between your legs, grinding against your dripping core. his free hand moved to your ass, squeezing roughly before landing a sharp, stinging slap that made you cry out. “answer me,” he demanded, his voice sharp as he delivered another slap, harder this time, the sound echoing in the room. “no,” you gasped, your voice hoarse as you struggled to breathe, your body trembling from the roughness of his touch. “he couldn’t.”

mark chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “that’s right. he couldn’t. he doesn’t know how to handle a slut like you.” he spat the word with venom, and yet it sent a thrill through you, the degradation hitting you harder than the slaps, making you shudder. he let go of your throat just long enough to shove two fingers into your mouth, forcing them deep, pressing against the back of your tongue until you gagged around them. his eyes gleamed with something dark and twisted as you choked, and he pulled his fingers free, wiping the spit across your cheek.

“open,” he growled, and you did, your mouth parting obediently, your tongue resting against your lower lip as you looked up at him with wide, needy eyes. his lips curled into a smirk as he leaned over, spitting directly into your mouth. “swallow.” you did, closing your mouth and swallowing hard, the taste of him lingering on your tongue. he grunted in approval, his hand sliding down your throat again, squeezing as he pushed you back against the bed. his knee was gone, replaced by the rough fabric of his jeans pressing against your bare, soaking core, grinding into you as he smirked down at you.

“i should send this to him,” mark murmured, his eyes flicking to the phone, his hand tightening around your neck again. “let him see what his little princess looks like getting fucked like a whore.” your body betrayed you, a shiver of excitement rushing through your veins at the thought of jaehyun watching this, of seeing you like this, ruined by his best friend. mark grinned, sensing the shift, his hips rolling against yours, teasing, taunting you as you whined beneath him.

“yeah,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “you like that, don’t you? you want him to see, you want him to know how much you need this. how much you need me.”

he didn’t wait for an answer, his hands moving to your hips, lifting you up just enough so he could pull your panties aside, exposing your slick, dripping folds to the cool air. he wasted no time, thrusting into you with a rough, punishing force that had you arching off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as he filled you completely. there was no gentleness, no hesitation, just the relentless pace of his hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room.

“look at you,” he growled, his hand wrapping around your throat again as he fucked into you, hard and fast, the bed creaking beneath the force of his thrusts. “so fucking desperate for it. bet you never looked like this for him.” his words were a sharp sting, but they only fueled the fire burning inside you, the heat building with every rough, pounding thrust. you could feel the phone’s camera still recording, capturing every moment, every filthy word that fell from mark’s lips.

“bet he didn’t know what to do with you,” he continued, his voice a low snarl as he slapped your ass again, harder this time, leaving a red handprint on your skin. “bet he didn’t know how to fuck you like this. didn’t know how to make you beg for it.”

you were already so close, your body trembling, every nerve on fire as he drove into you mercilessly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you clawed at the sheets, desperate for more. mark’s grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your air just enough to make your head spin, your vision blurring as the pleasure built and built, coiling tight in your belly. “come on,” he taunted, his voice rough as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want you to cum for him. cum for me while he watches.”

that was all it took. your body shattered, pleasure ripping through you in waves so intense you could barely breathe, your vision going white as you screamed his name. mark didn’t stop, fucking you through it, his thrusts rough and brutal as he chased his own release, his hand tightening around your throat as you convulsed beneath him. with a guttural groan, he came, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips jerking against yours as he filled you, the warmth spreading through your core. he stayed there for a moment, panting, his hand still wrapped around your throat as he rode out the last of his orgasm.

then, with a smirk, he reached for the phone, lifting it from the desk as he pulled out of you. he angled the camera down, making sure it captured everything—your wrecked, trembling body, the sticky mess between your legs with his hot cum seeping out of your cunt—the evidence of his release dripping out of you. “perfect,” he murmured, his fingers tracing your thighs one last time before he stopped the recording, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

✧

a/n: this was soo rushed i’m sorry lol but it’s 9 am and i have an mun meeting in an hour!! also ily u sound like such a sweetheart omg so cute

[tarotwithavi]

Messages from your ancestors

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Just keep in mind that this is a general reading, so it may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave the rest.

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Pile 1

Hello pile 1 ! Some of you may have lost a family member or a friend recently and you are in great pain because of that. your ancestors want you to know that they are sending you a new friend. This could be in the form of a pet but they are sending you a new soul into your life and they want you to tear down the walls around your heart and to give and receive security and warmth. I know it can be really hard loving a new pet after losing one. I am also getting that some of you will regain your child like Spark. The Spark that you lost because of society judgements and expectations. Your ancestors want you to know that you will forever be a child for them and they are always looking after you even when you're alone even when you are lonely, just know that your ancestors are always protecting you from the spirit realms. And also getting that some of you are really concerned about your career and the good news is that you will be given a new job opportunity. It's like this opportunity will be handed to you. For some of you I see that a surprise it's on its way to you and you will have no idea about it. I am also getting that you may not even expect something like that. It is going to be really unexpected however it will give you great happiness and contentment. One of your wishes is going to come true. Your answers also want you to know that you should follow the path of your soul and do not allow anyone or anything to stop you from achieving what you want in life. I also see a new beginning for you as well as an ending. Some of you may be ending a relationship or a friendship and your ancestors want you to be really careful about who you share your secrets with, especially in your friend circle because I see that one of your friends is talking bad about you behind your back. 7, 13, 18 could be really important dates for you.

Pile 2

Hello! Pile 2! Someone is thinking about you and this person could be your classmate or your coworker. I am also getting that this person could be an earth sign. This person will approach you soon and they will tell you exactly how they feel about you. For some of you it could be your crush. I am also getting that you are thinking too much about your past and your answers want you to let go of your past because it will not serve. you need to find a way to be in the moment and feel alive. Do not let your past hold you back from enjoying great things in life. Someone you are thinking about is also thinking about you and you guys seem to have a telepathic connection. I also see that you feel stuck right now and your ancestors want you to enjoy the moment and the peace you have right now because in the future I see a lot of things going on for you and you will not have time for yourself. If you have applied for a job or for a scholarship I see you getting it 100%. There is something that you want but that is not good for you and your ancestors want you to let go of that desire to clear your mind. I feel like some of you have really creative ideas and your ancestors want you to put your ideas into action. I feel like some of you have a female ancestor , great grandma and she is constantly watching over you and she is really proud of you. She wants you to know that you are doing your best and she is really happy to see you doing what you love.

Pile 3

Hello pile 3! Let go this is the first message I heard and your ancestors want you to let go of the things that do not serve you anymore. This could be people, this could be a relationship , this could be a job if you do not like it, don't do it. I see you winning. This could involve some legal documents. And I'm also getting that you need to travel your ancestors want you to travel. I am also getting that you need to leave your home because you cannot heal while living with people who have hurt you. Speak up, talk back, express how you feel, express your emotions, talk things out because your words are heard. Release your inner Rebel, be yourself and create your own universe and if people are stopping you from doing that then leave them. I see that some of you will be moving places in the near future and I also see you traveling internationally. If you are thinking about going abroad for higher education then your dream will come true. I am also getting that you are about to meet someone new and this person will have a huge impact on your future. This person could be I am asking with an air or fire sign and you may meet them while traveling. This is why your answers want you to travel. They want you to step out of your comfort zone. 5 ,23 ,30 and 21 could be really important dates for you. I'm getting that something unexpected is going to happen on these dates.

Please ignore typos.

[nownahc]

8 and 25 for the prompt challenge with bang Chan or Lee know? Or whoever you think best! I just live for angst.

four months | bcc.

bangchan x reader

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prompts list send in an ask to request

notes. decided on Bangchan (maybe i was biased haha) hope you liked it, but if you want another angst with Lee Know I'd love to do it too! And thanks a whole lot for your request :)

warnings. angst angst ANGST

prompts. “Were you ever going to tell me?” / “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!”

Four months.

Four months of what if, of possibilities and plans but most importantly, four months of him.

Late face times that turn in either him or you to fall asleep, a smile adorning the face of the one still awake. Small trinkets bought simply because ‘it reminded me of you’. Brushing hands and lingering glances holding the same shared feeling. Friends gathering that has you both separated, each in your own corner of the room yet, as you look across the room and catch his eyes, for a minute you think ‘this person could love me the way I love him.’

Four months spent thinking that finally, this intimate cocoon, this secret world shared between two being had finally been gifted to you, by him. Since the first words shared, the first eye contacts, he had been nothing but the greatest version of what you had always dreamed of. Both of you had decided to take things slow, to simply feel instead of explaining what was happening. Past experiences had proven you both that rushing into things, especially heart related things, could hurt you more than you could endure.

'Were you ever going to tell me?'

In this fleeting moment though, you don’t think your voice has ever been laced with this much despair, with this much… pleading. Stood before you, Bangchan's head hung low. Out of shame? Out of guilt? That you’ll never know. You rack your brain, your heart, to find out the critical point that led to his change of heart. When had your shared road turned into a split one? You feared for a moment that, the moments when you had gazed at him, eyes full of love, his own eyes were filled with… a much different feeling than yours. What if everything you had noticed, everything you had felt as true, was a simple mirage. Were your eyes deceiving you? Was your heart that foolish that, it didn’t realize? Maybe, it had only been you that thought of it as more than friendship. Maybe it had been you who fallen while he had realized that he could never fall too.

'Tell me you were going to tell me… At least, tell me you weren’t going to just, let me love you.'

Silence.

It’s in this stillness that you start to realize that maybe what hurts more is the fact that, wathever this was, could have escalated to something more. There’s a passing, fleeting thought that crosses your mind: gratefulness. Gratefulness that, at least, you had realized soon enough, as to not cause your heart further pain in the future, that he didn't love you, that he never loved you. How far would he have gone to preserve you, to preserve him? How can someone let a being love that deeply when you know, that deep down, they’ll never love you as much. It feels like you’re going full circle in the stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. And again, in an never ending loop.

Only a few seconds passes yet, it feels like you spent hours eyes fixed on the back of his head. He’s there, yet, it already feels like he's some different place, away from you. He can’t even look at you in the eyes. If only you had known that the last time you had met his gaze would have been your actual last time, you would have let your eyes linger a little bit longer. You don’t even know if you want to understand, to hear his point of view of this story. You dared not know if he had loved you too at some point or if he had never felt as deeply, neither of those two possibilities could ever heal your soul, not even a little bit. Both of you had been foolish, that’s a fact. You for, believing that those four months were just the beginning of something greater, prettier, and him for… whatever went through his mind.

Your entire body grieve his presence. Fingers clenching at the memory of his fingertips brushing against them. Skin tingling at the ghost of his warmth when he was just a little closer then friends should. Brain trying to put in a special folder all the words, promises, compliments, supports he had uttered to you. Oh, how your heart had begged for whatever force was in charge of all this, to not have to grieve him, of all people.

‘When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!’

Possibly, that's the thing, you can't just stop loving someone so, it only meant one thing. He never loved you. This fact scares you, it's the undeniable sign that, you'll have to forget, forget him, your feelings, and all the what ifs that used to put a smile on your face even in your darkest days. He’s still there, in front of you, yet he’s already a memory bound to fade. In a few days, you’ll struggle to remember the exact tone of his voice. In a few weeks, the feel of his hands on you will be foreign on your skin. In a few years, even his name might disappear from your brain for a few moments. That’s terrifying.

Legs finally working again, realizing that there was no use to do anything else any more, you internally pray that he’ll keep on staying quiet, gaze lowered on the ground. You fear to hear a small ‘I’m sorry’ or worse ‘I meant everything I said’, because you know that if he did, it’ll be over for you, in more ways than one. So you fasten your pace, carelessly gathering your belongings, not daring to linger around him more, not daring to take the time, that felt like a compensation already, that he had cruelly given you. You wish to never hear his name again, to never see his face again. Not out of despise and hate but, out of shame, out of melancholy. Too terrified to know that he’ll feel what you felt with him with someone else.

Soon enough, when your heart won't long for him anymore, not that it doesn't neet it but because it understood that it can't, you'll realize that he was the perfect prince for the fairytale you dreamed of yet, maybe, you had always dreamed of the wrong fairytale.

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[diejager]

I am really relived ;w;

I just really love your headcanon about König and wondered...

Would you maybe do Platonic Yandere! König, Simon Riley and Captain Price with Childhood friend! Y/n? (You can choose any of them)

I CHOOSE- all of 'em.

Pairing : König x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, John Price x reader

Cw: dark, platonic yandere, threats, canon violence, murder.

Wc: 1.2k

König

Not much was known about König outside of his moniker and the basic knowledge about his specialty and kill count. People who are powerful enough to find his file will only know how he failed to qualify for a recon sniper and joined KorTac after being a part of KSK (the Kommando Spezialkräfte - the Special Forces Command).

His personal life, however, was something he guarded with his life, a secret he would bring to the grave. His civilian life was almost nonexistent, his file didn't even have his name, and the military simply knew him as König; King, in german - a king among kings.

He cherished few things in life, his life, and (Name), the person he grew up knowing and shared his pain with. You were his little secret within the world, something - someone - he would protect fiercely, even at the cost of his blood. You stood up for him when you were younger, you fought back against his bullies even when they towered over you; you'd worry about him and ease his anxiety when he felt panicked.

When he'd heard you joined the KSK, wanting to follow in his footsteps a year after him, his heart almost gave out, he wanted you safe and far from the front lines of war and battles. You were stubborn, pleasing your case with such ardor that he let you with the promise of staying by his side. Unlike him, you made it into the 5th platoon, a marksman of value after months of patience and practice, and when he left the KSK, he took you with him.

A battering ram, he was, fierce and dangerous when provoked, wherever you went, he goes; looming over your form like a shadow, scaring off people and some members of KorTac with the cold gleam in his steel eyes. His hands would linger protectively on you, your shoulder, arm, or back, anywhere that would deter people from approaching you; from wanting to hurt you.

Since you joined KorTac as their sniper, you'd be far from him, being a breacher and bettering ram had him on the line of fire often, the first on sight and the first to storm in. He was far from you, and he *hated* that, and he still does. If he could, König would lock you up where no one would know your secret and your existence, he didn't want harm to befall you.

König won't stop at anything to keep you safe, you were weaker than him, shorter than his 6'10, and fragile; to him, you were his childhood friend, his everything. He would do the same as you did to him when you were young, he would protect you.

Ghost

He was Ghost, named for being a ghost to the world, he used to be Simon Riley, someone who was alive, someone who existed, someone who had people waiting for him at home. Then he lost his whole world, his brother, step-sister, and noise died, killed by the people who tried beat him, tortured him, raped him, and attempted to kill him by burying him with the traitorous Major Vernon.

After leaving his life as Simon Riley, the blonde and brown-eyed man people knew, he became Ghost, a dead man walking - a zombie. He had lost everything he cared for, but when he learned that you survived, deployed elsewhere when the massacre of the Riley family happened.

It made his previous protectiveness spiral into an obsession, wanting to know where you were, what you were doing, where you were deployed, which base you were stationed at; everything and anything about you. When Price came with Task force 141, luck seemed on his side, he met you at the tarmac, waiting for him.

"Ghost, (n/n), but when it's just us, Simon is fine."

He was cold and brooding around others, less when you were beside him, but he still held the facade of a cold-hearted and dead Lieutenant Ghost. However, in your shared barracks, he would drop the mask he wears and Simon would come back, the sad, heartbroken man that survived and cared for nothing but you, the last of his previous life: his everything.

Both being snipers and infiltration specialists, he often found himself working closely with you, standing in front or beside you with a protective awareness. Although you were both soldiers - a Lieutenant and a Sergeant - and faced death many times, he wanted to keep you from harm, hold you, and put you somewhere safe.

He dreads the thought of finding you dead or receiving a call about your untimely death: (Name) K.I.A. He's had nightmares about your death, the risks of letting you continue working with the Task Force and simply knowing him, he wakes to you holding him, shushing and whispering his night terrors away - like you always did.

You helped him through his younger years, a place of comfort to him in his abusive household, now he'd do his best to keep you alive and by his side. Even though he can't shake the thought of you going M.I.A. or K.I.A., not having you by his side was irksome, a thought he pushed away. He wanted you with him, so he'd have to work harder, a few slips of his trigger finger in a freak accident, and the trip of his enemies' foot, and he'll have you safe and sound.

Price

He grew up in a traditional, conservative family, so every neighbor knew their neighbors, your family included. Although you were a few years younger than him - being six when he was ten - you quickly became best friends, glued by the hips wherever you went. He had to protect you, you were his adorable childhood best friend whom he loved so much.

When he joined the army, he remembered soothing your cries and your dazed pleas and promises: "Wait for me, John." He did, waiting impatiently for you to join the British army between letters and calls.

He had made enemies while on duty, especially with the formation of 141, it put a bigger target on his head, and whoever knew him; it was yours, especially, that worried him the most, even after having Laswell find and invite you.

He was a captain, and you, a lieutenant - first lieutenant, one rank over Ghost - by 2019. Having you in his Task Force made the weight of his worry lighter; having you on his team during deployment - always - made things easier for him; just having you in his presence made him more relieved. He dreaded and feared losing you to missions, to stray bullets, to traitors, or to the enemies he'd gained over the years.

The constant fear had him command you by his side, always with him in missions (behind him when you infiltrated a base, or near him in shootouts), in his office (saying that he worked better with you helping or sitting on the couch in his office) or bunking with him (he wanted you to sleep in the same barracks as him, it would be easier to protect you come the time of a surprise attack).

He knew you were able to defend yourself, to survive on your own as he's seen many times - you were second in command too - but he still worries, hoarding you to himself as you did as kids, by the hips.

He's a captain that doesn't fear getting his hands dirty if it meant keeping the world clean, the same would be said about keeping you alive and unharmed. He wasn't shy to hurt people or threaten them, he has connections and power, and he - John Price - knows what he's doing.

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Not Leaving You

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Prompt - "You need to leave."

Requested - anon

The Doctor never said more about his past than he had to. Most of the people who travelled with him never asked too many questions, too caught up in the life that came with knowing the Doctor to ask about who he really was. When they did ask he gave them just enough to stop asking. 

He didn’t know what was different about you. When you asked he found he didn’t mind sharing a part of himself with you, a part of himself that nobody else knew. He couldn’t say for sure why because it ached his hearts terribly to talk about a life long gone but it was a little bit easier with you at his side.

You were a curious thing too, he’d lost count of how many times he’d lost you, you wandering off, too distracted by something or other and ready with a million and one questions by the time the Doctor finally did find you.

He knew sooner or later you’d be curious about him too, once you found out he had two hearts that had taken up about a week’s worth of conversation, you asking questions about Time Lords and what else was different about them, not knowing that there were no more Time Lords out there and missing the sad look that the Doctor forced off his face.

He had taken you to a planet he had found many, many years ago, one that made his chest feel warm and a smile pull on his face as you repeated the name after him, the word Zirafell sounding as beautiful as the planet itself coming from your lips. He had never shown it to anyone before but there was something so extraordinarily different about you that he wanted to share all his hiding spots and secrets with you.

The two of you were sitting in the field, the TARDIS parked not too far away. The grass was littered with little pink and blue flowers and a lilac lake glistened under the two suns in front of you.

“Where are you from anyway?” You asked softly, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between you causing the Doctor to look at you in surprise but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“Me? Oh nowhere really.” The Doctor answered after a few beats of silence, watching as a frown pulled at your face.

“Everyone’s from somewhere.” You told him, finally turning to face him and seeing the discomfort on his face. You wondered whether to push it but before you could decide the Doctor spoke again.

“Not me. Not anymore.” The Doctor sighed and you stayed silent for a moment, just looking at him.

His gaze was on something just passed your shoulder, refusing to look at you as his mind played memories from long before you could even imagine. You wanted to know what he was thinking about though, wanted to know what put that sort of look on a person's face. 

“You could always go back home.” You told him, keeping your voice soft.

The Doctor looked back at you, a sad smile spreading across his face. You hadn’t seen that smile in a while, of course you’d seen it plenty when you’d first met him. A sad man sitting alone looking like his whole world had fallen apart around him and there was nothing he could do about it.

It took some time but eventually he told you about the people he’d lost and how travelling with him was dangerous. He had told you he’d take you home, that he’d understand if you wanted to leave but you just wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug, smiling into his chest when he gripped you tight.

“Not even I can do that.” The Doctor laughed softly, no amusement in it as he turned to look out at the lake. He never wanted to talk about it, about all that pain and suffering, about what he had done and yet sat here with you, he wanted you to know that sad, angry, lonely part of him. 

“My home’s long gone, Y/N.” The Doctor said after a long silence where you had figured he wasn’t going to share anything with you. “It was a beautiful place, you’d have loved it. I’d love to have shown you. The Time Lords, my people, the universe was so much brighter with them in it. People would cheer when they saw one and now, now they’re gone, my planet’s gone.”

“What happened to it?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper as you looked at him, his eyes glazed over. 

“There was a war.” He told you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “It doesn’t matter, but nobody won that day. Nobody ever really wins I suppose. Everyone died. Everyone but me.”

When you first saw the Doctor, before you knew who he was, you just referred to him as the sad man. Watching him now you couldn’t think of a better way to describe him, the sad man, the sad man who was all alone in the universe, the sad man who had lived through the destruction of his whole planet, his whole race.

The sad man with a magical box who spent his life bringing hope everywhere he went.

“The last of the Time Lords.” You murmured, remembering what a woman from several months back had hissed to him, at the time the Doctor brushed it off when you asked questions, now you knew why. 

“The last of the Time Lords.” The Doctor agreed just as quietly and neither of you said anything else, there was nothing left to say so you rested your head on his shoulder, his coming to rest on top of yours as the two of you stared ahead at the lilac water.

From that day onwards you and the Doctor were closer than ever, he shared more of his life with you and you found yourself falling a little bit more for the man as each day passed. It was a dangerous thing to do, falling in love with the Doctor and yet you let yourself fall, not bothering to question if he would catch you but enjoying the fall while it lasted.

You felt closer with the Doctor than you had with anyone you had known back home, not a single day went by where you regretted leaving, regretted choosing the Doctor over your old life. You knew you’d make the same choice over and over again. You could never give the Doctor up.

Months passed since that day, months where you and the Doctor would spend your nights floating through the galaxy, legs hanging over the TARDIS door as the Doctor told you about the different stars and planets that surrounded you with such fondness, months were he took your hand in yours and you couldn’t help but smile, savouring the feeling of his thumb running softly across the back of your hand as he pulled you along, tugging you back to him when you went to wander off. Months were you and the Doctor traded secrets in the quiet of the night, things that you’d never have dreamed of sharing with anyone else and yet knowing the whispered words were safe with each other.

“You’ll love this one, Y/N/N!” The Doctor told you with an excited grin on his face, hurrying you to put your coat on causing you to laugh before he finally grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the TARDIS, pausing long enough to lock the box before the two of you were off.

“Welcome to Thucruiruta.” The Doctor beamed at you and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you finally looked around.

The planet was beautiful, the sky was golden and all sorts of creatures were moving around you, so many things demanded your attention and the thing that won it was the Doctor squeezing your hand.

“It’s beautiful, Doctor.” You breathed out, watching as the Doctor’s grin softened and you didn’t even try and stop yourself from smiling back, leaning into him before letting him lead the way.

The Doctor was eager to show you everything, used to your curiosity and the hundreds of questions you came up with, more than happy to show off and answer them, making his way through the stands and insisting you try all the different foods on display. 

It was hard to imagine such a perfect day taking a turn but you had also gotten used to trouble following the Doctor by now, so when an explosion sounded not too far in the distance you immediately turned to the Doctor, waiting for him to do something.

It didn’t take him more than a second to grab your hand, pulling you into the heart of the danger and you went along with him willingly. You knew you always would, you never gave it a second thought, you knew that you would always follow the Doctor no matter where he went.

You gasped as you took in the scene, people were scattered all over the floor, some crying out and others not moving at all. You gripped the Doctor’s hand in yours and he squeezed back before moving further into the chaos, looking around for some clue as to what had happened.

There was a child on the floor, a deep cut in their green skin as blue blood poured from it. You pulled your hand from the Doctor’s and made your way to the child’s side as the Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out to try and find what had caused the explosion. 

“You alright?” You asked softly, pulling your jacket off and using a sharp bit of rubble to rip the end of your shirt in lieu of a bandage. 

“Hurts.” The kid whimpered and you gave her an encouraging smile, warning her it might sting as you tied the torn material around her arm as tightly as you could.

“Good job, that’ll be good until we can get you to your family.” You told her standing up and holding a hand out for her, pulling her up by her uninjured arm and looking around. “Where was your family?”

You watched as she pointed the way you had come from, away from where the explosion was and you glanced over your shoulder to see the Doctor glaring down at the sonic, a furious expression you couldn’t ever remember seeing on his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come on then, let’s see if we can find them.” You said, pulling your gaze from the Doctor and forcing the uneasy feeling you suddenly felt in the pit of your stomach away, leading the young girl away from the scene.

Even in the sea of screams and shouts for friends and family you managed to find the young girl's family quite easily, her mum falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her daughter, mindful of her arm after she winced. 

You stayed long enough for the family to thank you tearfully and the girl to hug you before you pushed your way through the crowd and looked around for the Doctor, frowning when you couldn’t see him.

You made your way further into where the explosion had gone off, gasping when something sharp dug into your arm, looking to your left to see a tall figure beside you, sharp teeth visible as the thing grinned down at you and pushed you forward, dragging you alongside it and not even pausing as you fought back against it.

There was a slimy sort of wet texture to the creature and you couldn’t stop yourself from wincing as it’s nails drew blood from you, the thing snarling the whole time until it pushed you onto the floor and you were staring at sharper nails and blue feet, looking up to see more than a dozen of the things standing together.

“Let her go.” The Doctor’s voice sent a wave of relief through you and your head snapped around to look at him. “Now.”

The Doctor’s voice was cold, so devoid of any emotion that it scared you. The creatures, however, didn’t seem at all phased by him and instead laughed at the Doctor.

“The Doctor always was too fond of the humans.” One of the creatures laughed, sending a wave of spit flying from his mouth. “Too bad he can never save his precious little pets.”

That seemed to hit a nerve with the Doctor and you had heard the stories of his past companions, of how much danger they had been put in simply by being with him. You knew it was scarred on his two hearts, every loss, every defeat, every life lost, every life he blamed himself for.

“The Doctor’s not good at saving anybody.” Another one called, amusement clear in its voice, “Poor little Doctor, all alone, no Time Lords around anymore.”

The creatures all laughed together and you winced as you watched fury take over the Doctor. It seemed these creatures had history with the Doctor, at the very least they knew exactly what buttons to press to tear him apart.

The Doctor looked different, he didn’t look like the Doctor you had seen every day, he looked like a whole different person. Cold fury in his eyes, mouth set in a thin line and his knuckles bone white from the grip he had on the sonic.

“You will let her go and you will leave this planet.” The Doctor told them, voice low and commanding the attention of everyone.

You could only stare at him, fear in your eyes, not sure who you were more afraid of in that moment. Usually you could read the Doctor easily, always seeming to know what his next step was but right then, in that moment you didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Or what, Doctor?” One of them spat but you didn’t bother looking behind at them, keeping your gaze on the Doctor. “The last time we met you were a coward, what’s changed?”

“What’s changed?” He shot back, taking a step forward and you felt your breath catch in your throat at his tone. “What’s changed? The last time I showed you mercy. That was a mistake. I won’t make the same one twice. Now leave.”

“Or what?” It asked again, tone hard as the creatures refused to move.

“Or I’ll burn this entire planet with you on it.” The Doctor said without hesitation and your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“You wouldn’t, the Doctor wouldn’t harm innocents, not in the name of revenge.” One of them laughed but it sounded nervous, like it didn’t believe its own words and looking at the fury on the Doctor’s face you had to agree with it.

“Do you really want to test that theory?” The Doctor asked, the silence stretching as the creatures all looked at each other. “All I have to do is press this button and you’ll be dead before you realise it.”

The Doctor held the sonic up and you shook your head, not that he was looking at you but you couldn’t believe him. He wasn’t bluffing, he wasn’t improvising whilst he came up with a plan to deal with this without harming anybody. He was being deadly serious.

You were terrified of the man before you. He wasn’t the Doctor, not the Doctor you knew anyway.

“Liar!” A creature yelled and the Doctor gave it an unimpressed look before going to press the button but you stood up before he could.

“Don’t!” You shouted, reaching a hand out like one would around a scared animal, locking eyes with the Doctor for the first time since you’d been pushed onto the floor. “Don’t.”

“Y/N, you don’t know what these are.” The Doctor told you, his thumb hovering dangerously close to the button on the sonic. 

“I don’t care. This isn’t you, you’re the Doctor! People look to you for hope, you’re not a murderer, don’t do this! Don’t become them.” You pleaded with him but his face was still set with cold fury and you feared there was no changing his mind.

“Get to the TARDIS and don’t look back.” He instructed and you immediately shook your head.

“No.” You told him. “No, I’m not letting you do this. There are millions of innocent people on this planet and you will not destroy them for whatever grudge you’re holding.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you need to leave. Now get on the TARDIS, Y/N!” The Doctor snapped and you felt tears sting your eyes but held your ground.

“No. If you’re going to burn this planet you’ll do it with me on it.” You said, voice shaking as tears made their way over your eyes, hating that you didn’t know what the Doctor was going to do.

“Get on the TARDIS.” The Doctor commanded through gritted teeth but you shook your head again.

“I already told you I’m not leaving.” You told him, blinking away the tears as they carried on running down your face.

The Doctor held your gaze, the small part of him that wasn’t consumed with anger and hatred felt guilt and hurt as you looked at him like you were terrified, like he was the monster instead of the creatures behind you. 

“Leave.” He spat out, not taking his gaze of you as he addressed the creatures. “Get off this planet and if I ever see you again I won’t show a shred of mercy.”

The creatures wasted no time scurrying away, hurrying over to their ships and taking off just as quickly, leaving you and the Doctor staring at each other. Just as the Doctor opened his mouth, you cut him off.

“Take me home.” You told him, suddenly feeling drained.

“Y/N,” he sighed but you just shook your head at him, moving past him and making your way back towards where the TARDIS was parked, using your key to unlock the box and letting yourself in.

The Doctor sighed to himself, rubbing a hand across his face before pocketing the sonic and following after you, desperately trying to think how he could salvage this. He hadn’t wanted to let himself fall for you but over the year and the months you’d spent at each other’s side he couldn’t help it.

Now he was losing you because he had held onto a grudge from so many years back.

The anger had taken over him to the point he couldn’t control himself but you could, you stopped him even when he didn’t think he could be stopped.

When he walked into the TARDIS you were sitting in one of the chairs, looking away from him as he quietly worked on setting a course for Earth, hoping you would change your mind before you got there.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, watching you closely. He could tell you were listening but you didn’t say anything. 

“Those creatures, Y/N…” He trailed off and you finally looked over at him, seeing him take a deep breath before he spoke again. “Those creatures are called Eelvo’s. I met them a long time ago, long before I had this face. I lost somebody because of them and I let them go.”

“You don’t kill people.” You told him, your voice quiet but firm and the Doctor sighed as he came and sat next to you. 

“I have bad days, Y/N. Days where I am not a good man.” The Doctor told you, ashamed of himself, ashamed that you had seen him like that. He had never wanted that.

“Doctor, today I was more scared of you than any of those other things.” You said softly, glancing at the Doctor as he shut his eyes and swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat, fighting back tears.

The last thing he had ever wanted was for you to be scared of him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened, seeing them again after so long, seeing the destruction they were still causing, the pain and lives they were still taking…” The Doctor trailed off, a single tear making its way down his cheek.

You sighed softly, reaching over to take his hand in yours and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You were still unsure, still hadn’t liked seeing the Doctor so furious but he was still the Doctor, he was your Doctor again and seeing him in pain was the last thing you wanted.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N, I never wanted you to hate me.” He whispered, his voice breaking around the words and you felt your heart break with them.

“I don’t hate you, Doctor.” You told him honestly, “I’ve never seen you like that and I didn’t like it but I don’t hate you. I’m not sure I could ever hate you.”

The Doctor smiled over at you sadly and you returned it, squeezing his hand again.

“I’ll take you home.” He whispered and you frowned, you had asked him to take you home but the thought of actually leaving the Doctor behind sent an ache through you.

“How about Zirafell instead?” You asked him, a small smile pulling at your lips as he looked over at you in surprise. 

“You sure?” He asked, a hopeful note in his voice and you nodded, watching as his shoulders lost the tension in them and he let out a small breath, nodding himself before standing up and moving around the console to change the course, hoping that the two of you would be alright. 

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Thank you so much for reading!

[mythicalninjas]

Hello! So... I was wondering if you could make a bayverse with the turtles (separate of course) in which the reader (she) has powers like Eleven, but she never told them because she was ashamed of what her past was like. Something with a lot of angst, something like that! I'm also from Brazil, but I was embarrassed to send the message in Portuguese, haha...

Brasileiros dominam absolutamente TUDO hahahaha Seja bem-vinda! E sinta-se a vontade para falar em português ;)

💫*English ZOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM* ☀️

Hope you enjoy it 😊

Rate/Warnings: angst and a bit of fluff?

Leonardo

Leonardo had always prided himself on being able to read people. As the leader, it was his job to sense when something was wrong, when someone was hiding something. But with you, he had missed the signs, and now the revelation hung in the air like a storm about to break.

You stood before him, trembling, your eyes wide with fear—not of him, but of yourself. You had just stopped an entire car mid-air, saving him from being crushed under its weight. The sheer force of your power had left the ground cracked and the air vibrating with energy.

Leo’s swords hung loosely at his sides as he stared at you in shock, his mind racing to process what had just happened. He should have been grateful—you had saved him—but all he could think about was the secret you had kept.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the hurt was clear. You could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the way his usually calm demeanor seemed to crack under the weight of the revelation.

“I didn’t want you to know,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

"But why?" His brows furrowed, his tone edged with confusion and hurt. "You could’ve trusted me. You should’ve trusted me."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze. "It’s not that simple, Leo. You don’t understand. What I’ve done… what I’ve been through… it’s not something I wanted to share with anyone."

His gaze softened as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but you flinched away. The movement stung, and you saw the brief flicker of pain in his eyes.

"I’ve been ashamed of it my whole life," you continued, your voice breaking. "The things I had to do with these powers… they weren’t good. I didn’t want you to see that part of me. I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now."

Leo’s face fell, and his hand dropped to his side. "I’m not judging you. I just… I don’t understand why you felt like you had to go through it alone."

"Because I am alone!" you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "No one understands what it’s like to have this… this thing inside of you. To have people hurt you because of it. To hurt others because you had no choice. I didn’t want you to hate me."

Leonardo’s eyes softened with sadness, his heart breaking at the sight of you so raw, so vulnerable. "I could never hate you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "But I need you to trust me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him, the weight of your secret finally lifting but leaving behind the heavy scars of your past. Could he really understand? Could he still look at you the same way after everything?

"I don’t know if I can," you whispered, the pain in your voice echoing through the room.

Raphael

Raph had always prided himself on being the strong one—the protector. But seeing you like this, standing before him with your hands still trembling from the power you had unleashed, he didn’t know how to feel. His chest heaved as he tried to calm the storm of emotions that raged inside him: anger, confusion, fear.

"You wanna tell me what the hell just happened back there?" His voice was low, dangerously controlled, but you could hear the underlying hurt beneath it. He wasn’t just angry—he was scared.

You didn’t answer at first, your gaze fixed on the floor. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not after what you had done. The way you had thrown the enemy across the alley with nothing but a flick of your wrist, the way the air around you had crackled with energy. It wasn’t something you could explain easily. It wasn’t something you wanted to explain at all.

"Look at me," Raph growled, stepping closer, his hand gripping your arm, but not too hard. His touch was firm, but there was a softness there, an unspoken plea for you to say something, anything.

When you finally looked up, the pain in your eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. "I didn’t want you to know," you said, your voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

"Why not?" His tone softened, though frustration still laced his words. "You think I wouldn’t get it? You think I’d just… walk away?"

You shook your head, pulling away from him. "You don’t understand, Raph. I’ve hurt people with this… I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I didn’t want you to see that side of me."

Raph’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I’ve hurt people too, you know," he said, his voice rough. "You think I’m proud of every fight I’ve been in? You think I haven’t done things I regret?"

"But this is different," you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes. "I’ve killed people, Raph. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t have a choice. And now that you know… you’ll look at me differently. You’ll see me for what I am."

His heart ached at the sound of your words. Raph had never been good with emotions, especially not the kind that made him feel helpless. But seeing you like this, broken and ashamed, stirred something deep inside him.

"I ain’t gonna walk away from you," he said after a long pause, his voice raw with emotion. "But you gotta stop pushing me away. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not."

You stared at him, unsure if you could believe him. "How can you say that? After everything I’ve done… after everything I’ve kept from you?"

Raph stepped closer, his large hands cupping your face gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Because I don’t care about your past. I care about you. And if that means dealin’ with some crazy-ass powers, then so be it."

For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe… just maybe… you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

Donatello

Donnie always prided himself on understanding things—on finding solutions to every problem. But this? This was something he hadn’t seen coming.

He stared at the destruction you had caused, the debris still settling around you. His heart pounded in his chest, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. You had powers—powers that you had kept hidden from him. The thought stung more than he cared to admit.

You stood in the middle of the chaos, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if trying to shrink into nothing. The guilt weighed heavily on your shoulders, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Donnie’s voice cracked, a rare vulnerability slipping through. You’d never heard him sound like this—so lost, so betrayed.

"I was scared," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Scared of what? Of me?" His brow furrowed, hurt flashing in his eyes as he took a tentative step closer. "You know I would’ve helped you."

"It’s not that simple, Donnie," you replied, finally looking up at him. "You don’t know what it’s like. The things I’ve done… the things they made me do…"

Donnie’s heart clenched at your words, his mind racing to piece together what you weren’t saying. "What did they make you do?" he asked softly, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"I hurt people," you admitted, tears welling in your eyes. "I didn’t have a choice. They used me like some kind of weapon, and I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want you to know… because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now."

Donnie’s breath hitched. "I’m not… I’m not judging you," he said, though the pain in his voice was evident. "But why didn’t you trust me? Why didn’t you let me in?"

"Because I couldn’t," you said, your voice trembling. "Because I didn’t want to lose you."

Donnie stood there, frozen, torn between wanting to comfort you and not knowing how to process everything you had just revealed. He had always been the one with the answers, but this time, he felt completely lost.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He stepped forward, gently pulling you into his arms, holding you close as you finally let the tears fall. "We’ll figure it out," he murmured, though his own doubts lingered. "We’ll figure this out together."

Michelangelo

Mikey wasn’t one for serious moments—he preferred to keep things light, to laugh and joke his way through life. But now, standing in front of you, his usually cheerful expression was gone, replaced by confusion and sadness.

You had just revealed your secret, your powers flaring up in a moment of desperation during a fight. The enemies were long gone, but the aftermath of what had happened lingered, heavy between you and Mikey.

"You have powers?" he asked, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it. The usual playful spark in his eyes was gone, replaced by confusion and a hint of sadness. “How come you never told me?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words sink into your chest. You hadn’t expected it to come out like this—not in the middle of a fight, not with you accidentally throwing a man across the alley with nothing but a flick of your hand. You hadn’t wanted him to find out this way.

"I was scared," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want to lose you, Mikey."

He blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Lose me? Dude, how could you ever lose me? We’re like... we’re tight, right? You coulda told me."

You let out a shaky breath, unable to meet his gaze. "It’s not that simple, Mikey. You don’t know what it’s like... to have something inside of you that you can’t control. Something that makes people look at you differently. I didn’t want you to look at me like... like a freak."

The word hit hard. Michelangelo flinched at the sound of it, as if the very idea of you thinking of yourself that way was too much for him to bear.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up," he said, stepping closer, his hands reaching out but stopping short of touching you. “Freak? Are you kiddin’ me right now? I’m the one that’s green and has a shell, remember?” He flashed a weak smile, but you could see the hurt behind it. "If anyone’s got the right to feel like a freak, it’s me, but you? You’re amazing. You saved us back there."

You shook your head, your chest tightening with guilt. "No, Mikey, you don’t get it. I didn’t always use these powers to help people. I’ve hurt people with them. I’ve done things I can’t take back. And if you knew... if you knew everything..." Your voice broke, and you had to stop, afraid you’d fall apart if you continued.

Mikey’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he took the final step closer, pulling you into a gentle hug. His arms wrapped around you protectively, as if he could shield you from all the pain of your past. "Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you did, whatever happened, that’s not who you are now."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace, feeling the warmth and comfort he radiated. But the shame still lingered, heavy and suffocating. "You don’t understand, Mikey. I can’t control it. Sometimes... I feel like it controls me. What if I hurt you?"

Mikey pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. "You won’t. I trust you. And whatever happened before, it’s in the past. What matters is who you are now. And I know the real you wouldn’t hurt me or anyone you care about."

The sincerity in his voice, the unwavering belief in you, made your heart ache. You wanted to believe him, to believe that you weren’t the monster you feared you might be. But the memories of your past, of the things you had been forced to do, haunted you.

"I don’t know how to control it," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don’t know how to stop it."

Mikey smiled softly, brushing a tear away from your cheek with his thumb. "Then we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this, okay? You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us." His voice was steady, full of warmth and reassurance, like he truly believed in every word he said.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore. Maybe with Mikey by your side, you could learn to control the power inside you instead of letting it control you.

“Promise?” you asked, your voice small, but the hope growing in your chest.

Mikey grinned, his usual bright energy slowly returning. "Promise. We got this, dude. You and me? We’re unstoppable."

And for the first time, you believed him.

*****

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[star-anise]

reading supercut: disability, body image, and trauma

A glimpse into the clothes thrashing around in the washing machine of my mind, with apologies that it is still a wet lump and not an actual synthesis of ideas.

From Easy Beauty: A Memoir by Chloé Cooper Jones:

[This event] embedded a damaging idea in me, one I’d recognize deeply when I read Scarry years later: beauty was a matter of particulars aligning correctly. My body put me in a bracketed, undercredited sense of beauty. But if I could get the particulars lined up just right, I could be re-seen, discovered like the palm tree is discovered. To be deserving of the whole range of human desires, I had to be extraordinary in all other aspects. In this new light, I started to see my work, my intellect, my skills, my moments of humor or goodness, not as valuable in themselves, but as ways of easing the impact of my ugliness. If only I could pile up enough good qualities, they could obscure my unacceptable body. [...] accepting the argument that beauty was malleable came, for me, with a cost. The Platonian view rejected me cleanly, but Hume and Scarry left a door ajar and I’ve spent a lifetime trying to contort my form to see if I could pass through it.

From Til We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by CS Lewis:

I now determined that I would go always veiled. I have kept this rule, within doors and without, ever since. It is a sort of treaty made with my ugliness. There had been a time in childhood when I didn't yet know I was ugly. Then there was a time (for in this book I must hide none of my shames or follies) when I believed, as girls do — and as Batta was always telling me — that I could make it more tolerable by this or that done to my clothes or my hair. Now, I chose to be veiled.

From Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy of Borderline Personality Disorder by Marsha Linehan:

Inhibited grieving is understandable among borderline patients. People can only stay with a very painful process or experience if they are confident that it will end some day, some time—that they can "work through it," so to speak. It is not uncommon to hear borderline patients say they feel that if they ever do cry, they will never stop Indeed, that is their common experience—the experience of not being able to control or modulate their own emotional experiences. [...] In the face of such helplessness and lack of control, inhibition and avoidance of cues associated with grieving are not only understandable, bur perhaps wise at times. Inhibition, however, has its costs. [...] Volkan (1983) describes an interesting phenomenon, "established pathological mourning", which is similar to the pattern I am describing. In established pathological mourning, the individual wishes to complete mourning, but at the same time persistently attempts to undo the reality of the loss.

From How to Respond to Criticism by Danny Lavery:

Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.

From Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed:

[After learning that state child protective services had made a budgetary decision to only intervene with children under 12, to one of the teenagers that regularly shared stories of abuse at home] I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it [...] I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.

From Essays in Aesthetics by Jean-Paul Sartre:

Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

From "I Know What You Think of Me" by Tim Kreider:

if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

[winchesterwild78]

Hunters and Secrets pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (dating), Sam Winchester x Reader (friends), Eileen

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT

A/N: Had to get out of my head today, so I wrote the 2nd part. The 3rd part is coming soon too. Things are just so crazy right now in my head, I needed to write. I truly appreciate all of your love and support with my writing. 

This is a short series I’m working on. Does not follow the Supernatural storyline. Inner dialogue in italics. This is a work of fiction, not a reflection of real life. No disrespect to anyone. 

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

Weeks had passed since the vampire hunt with the boys. The three of you were taking a much needed break in the bunker. You and Dean had noticed Sam was leaving the bunker more and would come back at odd hours of the night. 

“I think he’s seeing someone, Dean. I bet it’s Eileen.” You snickered while laying in his arms. “Well, good for him. She’s nice and can keep Sam in line. He deserves what we have.” He pulled you close. “I agree, but please don’t play big brother and interrogate him.” “What?! Me, never.” Dean chuckled. 

It was about 2 am when you crawled out of bed and went to get some water. You heard the bunker door open as softly as it could and soft footsteps come down the staircase. You stepped into the war room and waited. 

“Samuel Winchester, you’re home after curfew.” You laughed as you turned on the light. Sam jumped, “Ha ha, very funny. You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.” You laughed, “Sorry Sammy, but what’s got you sneaking in here at 2 in the morning?” You inquired. “I’m not sneaking.” He responded defensively. 

You smiled at him “Sam, whoever she is, I’m happy for you, we’re happy for you. You of all people deserve to be happy.” You hugged him. “Yeah, thanks Y/N. I appreciate it. We’ve been seeing each other for over a year now. Honestly, I’m in love with her.”

“Wow, Sam, that’s great. How does she feel about you?” You felt a pang of sadness and jealousy in your heart. Sam could say “I love you”, why couldn’t Dean? “Well, she loves me too. We both said it tonight. It took us completely by surprise. We had just…um..well, you know.” You nodded in understanding. “She was laying in my arms and I said it, then she said it. It was perfect.” 

“Oh, Sam. I’m happy for you. Now, who is it?!” You asked enthusiastically. “Um, well it’s Eileen.” “Ha! I knew it. I told Dean it was.” “What!? How did you know?” “Sam, we’ve practically grown up together, I know when you’ve got feelings for someone. It’s okay, your secret is safe with me.” You smiled, hugged him and walked back to your shared room with Dean after saying good night.

When you walked back into the room and saw your boyfriend sleeping peacefully on the bed. A pang of sadness filled you when you thought about Sam and Eileen confessing their love for each other. You knew Dean loved you, you just wished once you could hear him say it. 

Crawling back in the bed, you laid on your side with your back to him. Silent tears fell from your eyes and started to soak your pillow. Dammit, get yourself together, Y/N! He loves you, deeply and truly. You don’t need him to say it. He shows you he does every day. Of course, hearing it would just mean so much to you. Even if he said it once. To hear him utter those three words. 

You continued crying softly while arguing with yourself about the need to hear him say “I love you”. Eventually you stopped and fell back asleep. 

Dean woke up earlier than you. He looked over at you sleeping beside him. Your face was etched with pain. A sliver of light danced across your face and he saw dried tears on your cheeks. His heart filled with sorrow. Why didn’t I hear her crying, and why was she crying? God I hate seeing her like this.

Dean slowly pulled himself out of bed, trying not to disturb you. You shifted in your sleep, gave a soft, sad, moan and rolled over. Dean stood there staring at you for a few minutes, then left the room. 

His bare feet padded down the hallway, towards the kitchen. Sam was sitting at the table drinking coffee. “Hey ya, Sammy. What time did you get in last night?” Sam looked up from his coffee and said “About 2, did Y/N not tell you?” “She’s still sleeping, did she get up when you got home?” “Yeah, she scared the shit out of me when I came in. I wasn’t expecting her to be standing there.” Dean chuckled, “Yeah, no, she must have been planning to tell me she saw you when she got up. Hey, Sam, did she say anything to you? Like anything that’s bothering her? I noticed this morning she’d been crying.” Dean asked with concern in his voice.

Sam stood there thinking about your conversation, reality hitting him like a ton of bricks. “No, we chatted for a second and then she went to bed. She didn’t say anything or give me any indication something was wrong.” Sam knew. Of course he knew what was wrong. He told you that he and Eileen said “I love you” and he knew his brother had never said it to you. You acted like it didn’t bother you, but he knew deep down it hurt you. Everyone knew Dean was in love with you, but everyone knew it was hard for him to say it. Even to Sam, he couldn’t say it. 

Dean ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Okay, thanks man. So, what brought you home so late?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. Sam looked at his brother and laughed. “Dean, you’re such a child. I was out with a friend.” “Does this friend have a name?” 

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yes, she does. It’s Eileen. Are you happy, Dean?” Dean slapped Sammy on the back in a congratulatory way. “I am Sammy. You deserve to be happy, we both do.” “Yes, Dean, we all deserve to be happy.” Dean looked at Sam a little confused when he emphasized “all”. 

“What do you mean by that, Sam?” “Dean, we both know you love Y/N. What I don’t understand is why can’t you tell her?” “What are you talking about, I tell her that all the time.” “No you don’t Dean, you’ve never said those words to her, hell to anyone.” “Why do I have to say it? Aren’t you the one who always says “actions speak louder than words”?” “Yes, but sometimes it means something to actually say the words too.”

Dean got more irritated standing there. “I don’t have to defend my relationship with her to you or anyone. She knows I love her!” Sam threw his hands up in defeat, “okay, Dean. I won’t say another word.” Dean growled and walked out of the kitchen towards your room.

You were just waking up as he walked in. “Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” He kissed your forehead. “Okay I guess. I woke up and saw Sam come in about 2. I didn’t want to wake you.” You stretched. Dean sat down beside you on the bed with concern in his eyes. “Hey, you okay, sweetheart? It looks like you’ve been crying.” He took your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just stupid hormones or some crap. I got in my own head last night. I’m sorry I worried you. I’m okay, I promise.” You leaned forward and kissed his lips. 

“Hey”, he tilted your face up to look at him. “You know how I feel about you, right?” “Yes, Dean. I know you love me. Why? Where is this coming from?” “Nothing, don’t worry about it. Just Sammy and I got into a little disagreement. It’s fine.” “Dean, you can talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, right?” He nodded and stood up. 

You stood up and hugged him tightly. You weren’t sure what they argued about, but part of you figured it had something to do with how he felt about you. “I’m going to jump in the shower, I’ll be in the kitchen soon.” You kissed his lips and grabbed some clothes. 

Dean got ready and walked back into the kitchen. He started cooking breakfast and Sam came back in. “Look Dean, I’m sorry. I was out of line. Your relationship with Y/N is none of my business. I know you two care deeply about each other. I’m happy you have each other.” Dean looked at Sam, “I appreciate it Sam. I get it, I have a hard time expressing myself, but I really do care deeply about her. Hell, I want to marry her one day and have some kids.” Sam turned and looked at his brother in surprise. “Damn Dean. That’s huge man. I’m happy for you, truly.” 

Dean nodded and thanked his brother. You came bounding into the kitchen and smiled at Dean and Sam. “Good morning, Sammy.” You winked. Dean chuckled, “I know about Eileen, Y/N. He spilled all his secrets this morning.” You laughed and looked at Sam “You told him everything?” Sam shot you a look and you kept quiet. 

“So what smells so good in here?” You walked over to the stove where Dean was cooking. “Bacon, of course.” You laughed. You grabbed some coffee and sat down at the table waiting for Dean to finish cooking. The three of you talked about looking to see if there were any jobs popping up, and you mentioned to Sam he should ask Eileen to come along. Dean laughed as Sam’s face turned red. 

When breakfast was done you started cleaning up the kitchen while the boys went to look for a job. You were just about finished washing dishes when Dean’s strong arms wrapped around your waist. He pulled you into him and started kissing your neck. “Dean, I need to finish cleaning.” You giggled. “It can wait. I want you.” He growled slowly in your ear. A chill went down your spine. 

Dean spun you around to face him and his lips captured yours in a heated kiss. You were pushed between him and the sink, with nowhere to go. Not that you’d want to leave his embrace. 

You moaned as he kissed down your neck and sucked on your pulse point. He took you by the hand and led you to your bedroom. As he pulled you in the room, he pushed you against the door closing it. Your hands went above your head and he held them there. Dean’s green eyes  turned dark with lust. You bit your lip. It turned you on seeing him want you so much. 

“Dean, I need you.” Dean let your hands down and pulled you to the bed. He laid you down carefully and hovered over you. His strong, calloused hands ran under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breath hitched as his hands cupped your breasts and he tugged at your bra. 

“Lean up baby, I want to take this off of you.” You leaned up and Dean took off your shirt and unhooked your bra. “Damn you’re so beautiful, and all mine.” He pulled his shirt off, exposing his perfectly toned chest. Your hands traced his body and his lips landed on your nipple while his hand cupped your other breast. 

You sucked in air and moaned loudly. You could feel your arousal pool between your thighs and his erection pushing on you. Dean kissed his way down your body and stopped at the waistband of your pants. “Please, Dean, I need you baby.” You lifted your hips helping him remove your pants and panties. 

You laid on the bed fully exposed. Dean stood and bit his lip. “Damn I can’t believe you’re mine.” You blushed, “all yours baby, now come on.” “Yes ma’am.” Dean smiled and removed his pants, his hardened length springing free. You laid back on the pillows and leaned up on your elbows watching as Dean stalked up the bed towards you. 

He climbed between your legs, using his to move them apart. He looked down and saw your core, soaking wet and ready for him. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.” “Mmhmm” you replied as his fingers brushed over your entrance. 

He slowly stuck his thick finger in and you moaned. Moving your hips into his hand as his thumb reached up and rubbed circles on your engorged clit. “Oh, Dean. Right there baby. Don’t stop.” You bucked into him as he added another finger. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart, and soaking wet.” Dean smirked as he felt your body responding to his touch.

He moved his fingers and thumb as you moved your body into his hand. He could feel you tightening around him, “mmmm, you’re close.” Your head fell back “Dean…I’m…gonna…cum.” Your breath hitched. He moved faster, helping you chase your release. “Yeah, cum for me princess.” With that you came undone. 

Dean moved his fingers and thumb as you writhed under him. Your body became sensitive to his touch and he kept going. “Oh, FUCK, DEAN!” You came again. Dean smirked. “Good girl, I knew you could cum again.” 

As Dean slowed and pulled his fingers out you moaned at the loss of fullness. Dean pumped his hard cock a few times before he lined himself up. He lined up at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him towards you. 

He thrusted in and bottomed out. You both let out a loud moan. “Oh damn, you’re so tight, Y/N.” Your hands went to his broad shoulders and he set a steady pace. He would pull out almost all the way and slam back into you. Each thrust had you gasping for air and grabbing his shoulders. 

“Oh, Dean. You feel incredible.” You moaned. Dean leaned down, kissing your lips, so do you baby. You were made for me.” Dean picked up the pace and you could tell he was chasing his release. He worked you faster and he felt his release coming. “I’m close, sweetheart.” “I want you to cum, Dean, please baby cum.” Dean thrusted a few more times and with a grunt he came, coating your walls with his seed. 

When Dean was done, he slowly pulled out and went to clean himself off. Once in the bathroom he realized he didn’t use protection. Oh, Fuck! Why didn’t I grab a condom? Shit! Dammit. He returned to the bedroom with a washcloth and started to clean you up. You were still overly sensitive and moaned at his touch. “Sorry sweetheart, just trying to clean you up. Um, I came inside you.” 

Your head shot up and your eyes were wide. “What?! Dean, we’ve always been so careful. Shit!” Dean hung his head, “I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” You took a deep breath and gently touched his face, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not just your responsibility. We will figure it out together.” You smiled and kissed his lips. 

Dean laid beside you and pulled you close to him. You grabbed the sheet and covered the two of you and laid your head on his chest. You were listening to his heartbeat and watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. His heartbeat started to get faster as the two of you laid holding each other. 

“Dean, are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m good.” He ran his fingers lightly over your arm and pulled you even closer. Your eyes were getting heavy. “Hey, sweetheart?” “Hmm, yeah, Dean?” “Will you marry me?” You sat up with a gasp. “What?!” Dean leaned up and smiled “Will you marry me?” “Really?” “Yes, really.” He leaned over and pulled a small velvet box from the side table. Opening it, you saw a small diamond ring. You looked at it and then at Dean. Tears filled your eyes. “Yes, yes, Dean. I’ll marry you!” You squealed with delight. Dean chuckled and placed the ring on your finger. “Oh my god, I love you so much, Dean!” “Me too, sweetheart.” 

At that moment you didn’t care he couldn’t say the three little words. He showed you he loved you in so many other ways. Tonight, you were on cloud nine. You were going to be Mrs. Dean Winchester. 

Tags: @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2

[elektrantchios]

Could you do a sejanus x reader fic where the reader hears of his death and immediately accuses snow of killing the love of her life

goodbye, goodbye, goodbye | s.p

pairing: sejanus x gn!reader

warnings: death, angst, alcohol use, a little fluff, fighting and swearing (this is gonna be a rough one)

word count: 880

a/n: Thank you so much for the request! this might be the saddest thing I’ve ever wrote, definitely cried writing this

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

“And this is Coryo, my best friend” Sejanus held one hand on your waist and clasped his friend's shoulder with the other. When he first brought up meeting his friend you were nervous. Falling in love with a peacekeeper was never the plan, becoming friends with another wasn’t either.

But Sejanus always spoke of Coriolanus with such fondness, that his friend was more like a brother and had saved him multiple times. And for that you figured you owned him a hello. Besides, he was involved with the local singers so you knew your secret was safe.

“So this is the person who has you so bewitched” Coriolanus smiled, it should have been charming, but the smile hadn’t touched his eyes. 

You returned the smile, pressing closer into Sejanus, “so this is the person who has saved you so many times”. Sejanus laughed and smiled at the two people he held close in 12. 

Your knees hit the floor, hidden deep into the crowd, you were saved from peacekeepers. In the tree the jabberjays carried his last words in the air.

“Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma!”

The plan, the life you had planned together was gone. Forever loyal he hadn’t mentioned your name or you’d be hanging there with him. 

Someone behind helped you stand, muttering a thank you, you look towards the peacekeepers searching for him, coryo, Coriolanus, best friend more like a brother. 

His blue eyes found you quickly, guilt. Guilt was etched into his eyes. The grief weighed you down, it felt like your heart had been replaced by lead.

Sejanus hands were on your hips, his lips were pressed into your throat. He should be on patrol but had stuck away to meet you. 

The past days his mood had increased, things were falling into place and you’d be leaving district 12 behind once and for all. 

“Will you be at the show tonight?” He asked in between kisses. 

“Can’t” you sighed, “my aunt caught me seeking out last week and has started locking the door”.

He looked worried, “how will you get out when it’s time”

You smiled kissing his frown away, “I’ve been saving up the white liquor, she’ll be out before the sun”

You had fallen fast for him, you loved his need to help, the fire that burned in him. You could feel it when you stood close to him, feel it in his kiss. 

“I have to go,” he said, not move.

“I’ll see you soon” you kissed him one more time and watched him go. 

With a stomach full of white liquor you tripped through the streets. Sejanus had shared Coriolanus patrol times once, a rush of pain hit you each time you remembered him. Even the liquor didn’t dull the pain. 

He wouldn’t get away with what he did, Coriolanus was the only person Sejanus was going to tell, he didn’t trust anyone else. The confess was played before he was taken from you, you saw it dawn on him.

Coriolanus handed the only person you had ever loved over to the capitol. You didn’t know how he did it but he did. Maybe doing this you’d join Sejanus soon, the rush for pain felt welcome, yes you would join him again. 

“Coriolanus” you yelled, the words slurring. He was alone and when he saw you he stopped. He tried saying your name and held his hand up. You cried out and threw up against the wall.

“I know what you did!” You spoke through gritted teeth. 

He said your name again so calm it only made you mad. “You've been drinking”, he pushed you away.

“His blood is on your hands” you told him, finding your footing. 

“Go home”

“No” you cried pushing him again. You saw annoyance in his eyes,  you saw yourself a sobbing drunk mess and you saw assurance. 

He was save.

In the eyes of everyone Sejanus was a traitor and a rebel, and no one spared any tears for traitors and rebels unless they wanted to join them. 

You swallowed, feeling oddly sober.

“You’ll pay for what you did, I don’t know how or when but you will and I will smile as you die”.

You walked away from him, let him tell his friends, let them come and take you away. You wouldn’t be found, the supplies were where you left them, enough to last a few days or more if you were carefully. 

You would keep to the plan and head north to find what Sejanus had dreamed of. You would do whatever it took to bring Coriolanus Snow down and then you would find peace with Sejanus and his fire would warm you for the rest of eternity.

The sun hadn’t risen yet but it was warm, usually the heat was unbearable. But with the grass wet with morningdew and the breeze on your skin it was perfect. 

Beside you Sejanus slept, you’d have to wake him soon so he’d be back in time for morning checks. You’d wish the moment would never end, that you could watch him sleep forever. 

“You’re watching me sleep” he laughed, eyes still closed. 

“I can’t help it” you laughed too, lying back beside him, curling into him. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together”.

You felt him kiss your forehead.  “And beyond that”

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Marilyn Monroe… a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 2: Calm..

Later that night, in her bedroom, the soft glow of Rhea’s phone screen illuminated her face. Liv was curled up beside her, sound asleep, her light snores a steady rhythm that blended into the quiet hum of the apartment. Rhea scrolled mindlessly, her finger brushing the screen as she flicked through videos and memes, not really focusing on anything.

A notification suddenly popped up.

“uceyjucey wants to send you a message.”

Rhea’s brow furrowed as she stared at the request, her curiosity piqued. She clicked on it, and there it was—a reel featuring Hana Kimura’s matches. Her heart clenched slightly as the video played, the reel showcasing Hana’s strength and charisma in the ring.

A small, genuine smile crept onto Rhea’s face. She tapped the screen, typing a response:

“Legend af. 🥹”

She sent it and waited, her thumb hovering above the screen, unsure of what—if anything—he would say back. A moment later, the familiar ping of a reply broke the silence.

“Hey, btw ur secret is safe w/ me.”

Rhea’s chest tightened at the message. She knew exactly what he meant—her attending the support group. It was both a relief and a reminder of the vulnerability they had shared in that room.

She typed back quickly, her fingers moving before she could overthink it:

“Thx, so is urs.”

The little “typing” bubble popped up almost immediately.

“Appreciate that.”

Rhea hesitated, unsure if she should let the conversation end there, but before she could stop herself, she sent another message:

“Didn’t expect to see you there tbh.”

“Same here,” Jey replied almost instantly. “Thought I was seeing things at first lol.”

Rhea shifted in bed, glancing briefly at Liv to make sure she was still asleep before typing again.

“Guess even people like us aren’t bulletproof, huh?”

A pause. The typing bubble appeared and disappeared a couple of times before his reply finally came through:

“Nah. We just hide the cracks better than most.”

Rhea stared at the message, the words hitting deeper than she expected.

“True. Didn’t think you’d be into Slipknot either,” she typed back, hoping to shift the tone just slightly.

“Surprised? Ucey’s got layers like an onion 🧅”

Rhea chuckled softly, shaking her head. She replied:

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Another pause, but this time it felt more intentional, like Jey was weighing his words.

“You’ll see,” he finally sent. “Slipknot’s good, but Red Hot Chili Peppers… different kind of therapy🫠.”

Rhea smiled at that, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. “Under the Bridge” was still playing in her mind from earlier, the lyrics weaving through her thoughts.

“Yeah,” she typed back. “I think I get it now.”

“You will,” he replied. “One day.”

For a moment, neither of them sent anything. Rhea leaned her head back against the pillow, her heart feeling heavier but… not in a bad way.

“Goodnight, Rhea,” his next message finally came.

“Goodnight, Jey,” she replied.

She locked her phone and set it down on her bedside table, staring up at the ceiling. The weight of the day lingered, but somehow, knowing Jey understood that weight made it feel just a little easier to carry.

—

Jey tucked his phone into his pocket and powered down the treadmill, his legs trembling from exertion. Sweat drenched his shirt, clinging uncomfortably to his skin, but the burn in his muscles was welcome. It was the only kind of pain he could control. He wiped his face with the towel draped around his neck, the fabric soaking up more than just sweat—it seemed to absorb the heaviness he carried, if only for a moment.

The air inside the house was warmer than outside, a sharp contrast to the biting chill that had numbed his skin during his run. Jey liked running in the cold; it kept him present, focused on the sting in his lungs and the ache in his legs rather than the relentless darkness in his head.

He stepped into the kitchen, where Jon was waiting for him. For the past five months, this house had been Jey's sanctuary. After his last suicide attempt-the one that nearly ended it all— Jon and Trinity insisted he move in with them. It wasn't just concern anymore; it was necessity.

Jon's voice broke through Jey's thoughts. "Jey, ready for your meds?"

Jey glanced up, his face unreadable. "Yeah, l'm coming," he replied, the words feeling like a routine, an obligation.

He approached the counter, where Jon had set out a small plastic organizer filled with pills. Jey grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap off as Jon handed him two pills: Venlafaxine, his lifeline against the crushing weight of depression, and Zolpidem, his only defense against the sleepless nights that seemed to stretch endlessly.

"How was the run?" Jon asked, watching Jey closely as he swallowed the pills.

"It was fine," Jey said gruffly, avoiding eye contact.

Jon nodded, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "You good?"

Jey shrugged, the familiar ache in his chest tightening. "I'm here, ain't I?"

Jon sighed, the lines on his face deepening.

"Yeah, you're here," he said softly.

Jey knew what his brother wasn't saying-that there were six times he almost wasn't here. The first attempt was almost impulsive: a bottle of whiskey and a handful of painkillers after a night of overwhelming guilt and self-loathing. He woke up in a haze, confused and angry that he had failed.

The second time was more calculated. He wrote a note, left it on the kitchen counter, and tried to hang himself in his garage. Jon had found him just in time, cutting him down with trembling hands and tears streaming down his face.

The third was a car crash. Jey drove his truck at full speed toward a tree, only to swerve at the last second. The shame of his cowardice-or maybe it was survival instinct-ate at him for weeks.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth attempts blurred together: a cocktail of pills, a knife held too long against his wrist, standing on the edge of a bridge for hours. Each time, he was pulled back by something-sometimes Jon, sometimes sheer chance.

But the seventh attempt was the closest. He'd raided Jon's medicine cabinet, swallowing nearly an entire bottle of alprazolam before collapsing in the bathroom. Jon found him again, his twin's panicked voice the last thing Jey remembered before everything went black. He woke up in a hospital bed, his stomach pumped and his body exhausted.

That was when Jon put his foot down, moving Jey into his home and refusing to let him out of his sight for weeks.

"Trin made food if you're hungry," Jon said now, breaking the heavy silence.

"I'm good," Jey muttered, tossing the empty water bottle into the recycling bin.

Jon hesitated, his gaze lingering on Jey. "You know we're proud of you, right?"

Jey's throat tightened, the words hitting harder than they should have. "Yeah," he said quietly, his voice almost cracking. "I know."

Jon didn't press further. He gave Jey a pat on the shoulder before heading into the living room, leaving Jey alone in the kitchen.

Jey leaned against the counter, his hands gripping the edge as he stared down at the empty organizer. The pills helped, but they didn't fix him.

Nothing really did. Most days, it felt like he was walking on a thin wire, one misstep away from falling into the void again.

He trudged upstairs to his room, shutting the door behind him and collapsing onto the bed. The room was dark, but the darkness didn't scare him anymore-it was familiar, a reflection of everything he felt inside.

—

February 6th 2025 8:41 AM

The next morning, sunlight seeped through the blinds, softly illuminating the room. Jey groaned as he stirred, the lingering weight of medication-induced sleep clinging to his body. His limbs felt heavy, as if gravity was stronger in his world. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to summon the will to face the day.

Finally, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet hitting the cool floor. With a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled to the bathroom.

The shower stall was sparse, its contents deliberately limited. A trial-sized bottle of shampoo and conditioner, a bar of soap, and a washcloth were all that sat on the small shelf. No razors, no sharp edges—Trinity had made sure of that. Jey stared at the items for a moment before turning the water on.

The warm stream hit his skin, and he stood under it for a while, letting the heat ease the tension in his shoulders. It was one of the few moments where his mind wasn’t racing, where the noise in his head quieted just enough for him to breathe. He scrubbed himself down methodically, the routine grounding him.

After rinsing off, he stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He wiped the fogged mirror with the side of his hand and stared at his reflection. His face looked older than it should have—dark circles under his eyes, lines etched from stress and sleepless nights. He brushed his teeth slowly, staring at the mirror as if searching for something in himself.

Once he was dressed, his mullet brushed back, Jey made his way downstairs. The smell of breakfast greeted him, a mix of eggs and bacon sizzling in the pan. Trinity stood at the stove, moving with practiced ease as she cooked.

“Morning,” she greeted without turning around, her tone light but watchful.

“Morning,” Jey replied quietly, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table.

She plated his breakfast—eggs, bacon, and two slices of toast—and set it in front of him before leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. “You’ve got some stuff to do today,” she said, her tone casual but firm.

Jey picked up his fork, poking at his eggs. “What do I need to do?”

Trinity sipped her coffee before listing off his schedule. “Haircut at eleven. Appointment with Dr. Barrera at twelve-thirty. Then you’ve got another appointment with Dr. Simon at two. And your social worker will be stopping by at four.”

Jey nodded, taking a bite of bacon. He didn’t complain or argue—there was no point. His days had been structured like this for months, every hour accounted for in an effort to keep him busy, keep him safe.

“Where’s Jon?” he asked between bites.

Trinity set her mug down. “He had to fly to Arizona for SmackDown. Left early this morning.”

Jey nodded again. It wasn’t unusual for Jon to leave for work—it was part of his life in the WWE. Jey had been used to being on the road with him, traveling to shows, living the grind. But now, he was stuck here, sidelined and waiting for the green light to return.

He was supposed to be working too, but WWE management had been clear: he needed to get mentally healthy before he could step back into the ring. It wasn’t just about being physically fit—it was about proving he could handle the pressures of their world again.

In the meantime, Jon and Trinity carried the weight of their household. Jon handled SmackDown, Trinity took care of RAW, and Jey… Jey just existed. The only time all three of them were under the same roof was on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, a brief overlap before the cycle began again.

Trinity studied him as he ate, her expression softening. “You doing okay?” she asked gently.

Jey shrugged, not looking up. “I’m here.”

“That’s a start,” she said, her voice kind but steady.

Jey finished his plate, rinsing it off in the sink. As he turned to Trinity, he said quietly, “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Always,” she replied, her gaze lingering on him as he walked out of the kitchen.

The day ahead felt heavy, but Jey knew he’d get through it. He had to.

—

Rhea’s alarm blared, jolting her awake. The harsh sound filled the room, but she didn’t immediately move, staring up at the ceiling as the remnants of sleep clung to her. After a moment, she took a deep breath, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and got up.

The smell of pancakes drifted through the apartment, along with the faint sound of clinking dishes. She stretched as she made her way to the in-room bathroom, turning on the light and squinting at herself in the mirror.

She grabbed her toothbrush and started brushing her teeth, her movements slow but deliberate. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she brushed through it next, wincing as the knots pulled at her scalp.

Rhea turned on the shower, the sound of water filling the small space. She stepped in, letting the warm spray wash over her. The stall was bare except for a built-in dispenser filled with shampoo, conditioner, and body wash—a gift from Liv. It was simple but functional, and most importantly, it eliminated anything that could be misused. A soft poof hung from a hook, another touch from Liv to ensure Rhea had what she needed but nothing more.

Rhea went through her routine, scrubbing herself down and rinsing off. The water was soothing, a small moment of peace before the day began.

After drying off and dressing in comfortable clothes, she made her way to the living room. Liv was already at the dining table, her plate half-empty. She looked up as Rhea entered and offered a small smile.

“Plate’s in the microwave,” Liv said simply, her tone casual but warm.

Rhea nodded and went to grab her breakfast. She pulled out the plate and sat across from Liv at the table. On her plate were egg whites, protein pancakes, and turkey bacon—Liv’s attempt at making sure Rhea ate something healthy and filling.

Rhea took a bite of the pancakes, the faint taste of vanilla and maple syrup comforting. Liv glanced at her but didn’t say anything at first, giving Rhea the space to eat in silence.

“How’d you sleep?” Liv finally asked, breaking the quiet.

Rhea shrugged as she chewed. “Okay, I guess. Could’ve been worse.”

Liv nodded, as if that was the answer she’d been expecting. “You have anything planned today?”

Rhea swallowed her bite, considering the question. “Not really. Might go for a walk later or something.”

Liv didn’t press further, knowing better than to push Rhea into anything. Instead, she said, “Well, Raquel’s off today too, so if you want some company, let us know.”

Rhea gave a small nod, appreciating the offer but unsure if she’d take them up on it. The weight of their support was always present, but it wasn’t suffocating. They tread lightly, giving her the space she needed while still making sure she wasn’t completely isolated.

The two of them finished their meals in comfortable silence, the sound of utensils against plates the only noise in the room. For Rhea, it was a quiet but steady start to the day—something she was learning to value more than she ever had before.

Rhea leaned back in her chair, watching Liv gather the plates and head to the sink. The sound of running water and the clinking of dishes filled the small apartment. She picked up her phone from the table and unlocked it, idly scrolling through her notifications and social media.

A story at the top of her feed caught her attention—Jey’s. The username @uceyjucey stood out, and she hesitated for a moment before clicking on it.

The picture was simple, he was dressed in an all white jogger and sweatpants set. The photo had a white heart emoji.

“Full day of activities when all I wanna do is sleep…”

Rhea frowned, her thumb hovering over the screen as she rewatched the short clip. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of understanding. She knew that feeling all too well—the weight of simply existing when everything inside you just wanted to shut down.

Liv’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “You good?”

Rhea glanced up to see Liv drying her hands with a dish towel, her eyes flickering toward the phone in Rhea’s hand.

“Yeah,” Rhea said quickly, locking her screen and setting the phone down. “Just scrolling.”

Liv nodded, not pressing further, and walked back toward the couch.

Rhea picked up her phone again, her thumb hesitating over the screen before she tapped out a quick message.

Rhea: “Feel that. Hope your day goes okay tho.”

She hesitated before hitting send, unsure if it was too much or too little. But something in her told her Jey might appreciate the gesture, even if he didn’t respond.

A few moments passed, and her phone vibrated with a reply.

Jey: “Appreciate it. U good?”

Rhea blinked, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t a lot, but the fact that he asked felt… unexpected.

Rhea: “Trying to be. U know how it is.”

Jey: “Yeah. One day at a time.”

She smiled faintly at the screen, a small sense of camaraderie settling over her. It wasn’t much, just a brief exchange, but it felt like an anchor—a reminder that she wasn’t completely alone in what she was feeling.

Liv glanced over from the couch. “You coming to sit with me, or is your phone more exciting than me?”

Rhea smirked and stood, slipping her phone into her pocket. “Relax, I’m coming.”

But as she sat down next to Liv, the faint sense of connection from her conversation with Jey lingered, like a small flicker of light in an otherwise gray day.

—

Jey slumped into the familiar couch, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the floor. Dr. Barrera sat across from him, her notebook resting on her lap, but she didn’t pick up her pen just yet. She always gave him time to settle in, knowing his walls were high and his resistance even higher.

“How’s the week been, Jey?” she asked after a moment, her tone calm and even.

Jey shrugged, his gaze fixed on a spot on the carpet. “Same. Nothing new.”

Dr. Barrera nodded. “Still feeling stuck?”

He let out a quiet sigh. “Yeah.”

The session continued with more of the same—Dr. Barrera asking open-ended questions and Jey giving clipped, vague answers. She tried different approaches, steering the conversation toward his coping strategies, his relationship with Jon and Trinity, even the recent group meeting where Rhea’s presence had clearly lingered in his mind. But Jey deflected, offering little more than surface-level responses.

Time ticked by, the clock on the wall softly marking each passing second. Dr. Barrera glanced at it and decided to push one more time.

“Jey, I want to remind you that this space is yours,” she said, her voice still gentle but firm. “You don’t have to hold back here. You’re not being judged.”

Jey shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. “I know.”

She waited, letting the silence stretch between them. Finally, as the session neared its end, Jey exhaled sharply and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Sometimes I feel like…what’s the point of all this?” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a murmur. “Talking about it doesn’t change anything. I still wake up feeling like shit. I still have to fight just to make it through the day.”

Dr. Barrera met his gaze, her expression empathetic but unwavering. “It’s true that change doesn’t happen overnight. But you have to let the process work, Jey. And that starts with you being honest—really honest—with yourself and with me. I’ve noticed you tend to hold back until the very end of our sessions. It’s a habit we need to address.”

Jey frowned, his defenses going up immediately. “I’m not holding back. I just…I don’t know what to say.”

Dr. Barrera gave him a small, understanding smile. “I think you do know. But it’s hard to say out loud, and that’s okay. What I want you to try is starting with those difficult thoughts earlier in our sessions. The sooner we get to the heart of what you’re feeling, the more we can work through it together.”

Jey leaned back, his arms crossed again. “Easier said than done.”

“I know it’s not easy,” Dr. Barrera said, her tone steady. “But you’re here for a reason, Jey. You’ve already taken the hardest step by showing up. Now it’s about letting yourself be vulnerable, even when it feels uncomfortable. Can you try that for me next week?”

Jey hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” she said, her smile warm. “One step at a time.”

As the session ended, Jey stood and adjusted his hoodie, his mind heavy with the conversation. He stepped back into the waiting room where Trinity was still seated, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and gave him a questioning glance.

“How’d it go?” she asked softly as they walked out together.

Jey shrugged. “Same as usual.”

Trinity didn’t press him, but she reached out and squeezed his shoulder as they headed for the car. It wasn’t much, but for Jey, even small steps felt like mountains. And today, he’d taken one.

After Jey’s second meeting with Dr. Simon, he sat in the passenger seat of Trinity’s car as they made their way back to the house. The weight of the session with Dr. Simon still lingered, the psychiatrist pushing Jey to talk more about his past, about the things that still haunted him. Jey had managed to keep his walls up for most of the session, but a few cracks had formed. He wasn’t ready to open up fully, but at least he hadn’t shut down completely. That was something.

As Trinity pulled into the driveway of their home, she noticed a car parked on the curb, an unfamiliar one. She slowed down and parked behind it, her curiosity piqued. She turned to Jey and gave him a half-smile.

“I don’t think we’re late,” she said, her voice low as she grabbed her bag.

Jey gave a small grunt, still not fully engaging in the moment. He was tired—tired of appointments, tired of talking, tired of the constant reminder of his struggles.

As they got out of the car, the assistant from Jey’s social worker, Ms. Martinez, rolled down her window, her expression professional but a bit strained. She gave them a polite nod as they approached.

“No worries,” the assistant said, her voice soft. “Ms. Martinez is out sick today, but she wanted to drop this off for Jey.”

She handed Trinity a thick manila envelope, sealed with the social worker’s name written on the front.

“She wants him to start working on this,” the assistant continued, gesturing to the envelope, “and be ready to take it for group on Wednesday.”

Trinity took the envelope and held it with a slight frown. She glanced down at Jey, who stood silently next to her, his gaze distant. The assistant’s tone was oddly detached, as if speaking to Trinity about Jey as if he weren’t standing right there.

Even though Jey was right there, it was clear from the assistant’s body language and the way she spoke that they were treating him like a child—like he wasn’t capable of making his own decisions or taking responsibility for his own recovery.

Trinity wasn’t surprised, but it still grated on her. Jey was an adult, and while his mental health struggles were serious, he wasn’t helpless. She exchanged a quick look with him before shifting her focus back to the assistant.

“Okay, I’ll make sure he works on it,” Trinity said, her voice more neutral than it probably should’ve been. “Anything else?”

The assistant nodded, looking at her phone before speaking again. “The next group session is rescheduled for next week. After that, we’ll schedule a follow-up appointment for Jey with Ms. Martinez.”

Trinity nodded, acknowledging the information, though she didn’t say anything else. She wanted to get inside, away from this uncomfortable exchange. Jey, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke up.

“Thanks,” he said flatly, his eyes still focused on the ground.”

The assistant smiled faintly. “You’re welcome, Mr. Fatu. Take care.”

With that, she rolled up her window and drove off, leaving Jey and Trinity standing in the driveway with the envelope.

Trinity turned to Jey, the weight of the situation settling on her shoulders. “You okay?”

Jey shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. Just tired.”

She didn’t push further, sensing that now wasn’t the time for more questions. Instead, she gently squeezed his shoulder as they made their way into the house. Inside, the house was quiet, the kind of silence that only came after a long day of appointments and uncertainty.

Trinity placed the envelope on the counter and looked at Jey. “Let’s get you settled, okay? We’ll work through it together.”

Jey gave her a small, appreciative nod, though his eyes remained distant. He wasn’t ready to face whatever was in that envelope, but for now, it could wait. As they sat down together, Trinity knew this was just another step in the long process, another hurdle to get over, and Jey knew it too.

—

The assistant drove to Ms. Martinez’s final appointment of the day, her car gliding through the quiet streets as the evening sun began to set. When she arrived at the apartment complex, she parked near the entrance, glancing at the address to confirm she was at the right building. After taking a moment to gather the paperwork, she exited her car and approached door 4B. She knocked on the door gently, not wanting to alarm anyone inside.

Liv opened the door, her familiar, friendly smile greeting Melanie. “Hello, Melanie. Where’s Marina?” Liv asked, standing aside to let her into the apartment.

“Marina is out sick today,” Melanie replied, her tone polite yet professional. “She has me covering her clients. I just need to drop something off for Ms. Bennett. If you could make sure Demi fills it out before her next group session on Wednesday, that would be perfect.”

Liv’s face softened at the mention of Rhea’s real name, Demi. She nodded, immediately taking the folder from Melanie’s hand. “Of course, I’ll make sure Rhea finishes it. Thanks for bringing this over.”

Melanie looked around the apartment for a moment before continuing, her eyes scanning the surroundings. “I also need to do a quick inspection to make sure Demi’s area is clear of any instruments,” she added, her voice slightly more serious. “We want to ensure everything’s safe, especially with the progress she’s been making.”

Liv felt a wave of discomfort pass through her, but she understood. It had been part of their routine ever since Rhea had started her recovery journey. She led Melanie inside, making sure to give her a warm but quiet greeting as she passed by.

As they stepped into the living room, Liv glanced toward the hallway leading to Rhea’s bedroom. She was well aware of the struggles Rhea had faced—too many times, Liv had found her on the edge, and they were all doing what they could to make sure she stayed safe. The inspections were just another part of the system that had been put in place to protect her.

“So,” Liv said as they walked toward Rhea’s room, trying to shift the conversation to something lighter. “How’s Marina doing? Is she going to be alright?”

Melanie sighed softly, clearly not wanting to share too much. “She’ll be fine, just a little under the weather. But I’ll be handling everything until she’s back. It’s just one of those days, you know?”

“Yeah,” Liv replied, the understanding evident in her tone. She didn’t push further, leading Melanie into the bedroom where Rhea kept most of her things. The room was tidy, as always, and nothing looked out of place. Melanie began her inspection, moving with the precision of someone who had done this many times before. Rhea was currently taking a nap, not wanting to be disturbed, she had Red Hot Chili Peppers playing on her Apple AirPod Max’s, a general signal to Liv and Raquel: don’t touch me.

As Liv watched, she tried to ignore the underlying tension that always accompanied these moments. She knew it was necessary—she wanted Rhea to be safe, but it still felt intrusive, especially knowing how much Rhea had already been through.

After a few minutes, Melanie nodded to herself and gave Liv a reassuring look, lowering her voice for Rhea’s state. “Everything looks good here,” she said, stepping back. “Just make sure Demi keeps up with the paperwork, and I’ll check in again soon.”

“Of course,” Liv replied, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She followed Melanie back to the living room, the whole process feeling like one more layer of the walls around Rhea’s world.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Liv said, her voice sincere. “We’ll take care of it.”

Melanie gave her a curt nod, before turning to head for the door. “I’ll be in touch if anything else comes up. Take care, Liv.”

“You too,” Liv answered, shutting the door softly after Melanie left. She leaned against it for a moment, feeling the weight of the responsibilities on her shoulders. The next few days would be critical for Rhea’s recovery, and Liv knew she wasn’t in this alone—but it didn’t make it any easier.

She turned to look at the stack of papers on the kitchen counter, a reminder of the constant work ahead. It wasn’t just about filling out forms or checking rooms for safety; it was about making sure Rhea felt seen, understood, and supported. But for now, all Liv could do was hope that Rhea would make it through another day, and that one day, she would truly believe that she was worth saving.

—

February 12th, 2025 5:51 PM

The following week arrived, and Wednesday rolled around like a slow, gray cloud. Jey felt like he was moving underwater. The increased dosage of his medication had dulled the sharp edges of his mind but left him feeling heavy, sluggish. Sleep no longer brought rest, just a blank void that he couldn’t seem to shake. Still, he dragged himself through the motions.

He parked his car outside the community center and took a deep breath, staring at the entrance for a moment before grabbing the Manila folder from the passenger seat. The weight of the papers inside felt heavier than it should have—like everything else lately. He stepped out, the crisp air barely registering as he trudged up the familiar steps.

Inside, the community center buzzed with quiet activity. He walked through the hallways, nodding at a few volunteers he recognized. His eyes scanned the meeting room as he entered, but something felt… off. She wasn’t there. Rhea—Demi—wasn’t in her usual spot.

Jey frowned, his gaze lingering on the empty chair where she usually sat. Her absence was like a missing piece in a puzzle, throwing the whole room’s energy off balance. He approached the sign-in table, where a volunteer greeted him with a polite smile.

“Your folder?” the volunteer asked, her voice cutting through his foggy thoughts.

Jey handed it over without a word, watching as she added it to the stack. He lingered for a moment, hoping she might say something—anything—about why Rhea wasn’t there. But she didn’t, and Jey resigned himself to his usual seat in the back corner of the room.

He sat down, his legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded across his chest. The hum of quiet conversations and shuffling papers filled the room, but Jey’s mind was elsewhere. He stared at the door, half-expecting Rhea to walk in at any moment, her signature scowl softening when she saw him. But the door stayed closed, and the minutes dragged on.

Where was she?

The group session started, and everyone began introducing themselves, sharing updates about their week. Jey stayed quiet, his head low, the weight of his exhaustion pressing down on him. His turn came, and he mumbled something generic about being tired, about working on his assignments. He didn’t have the energy to go deeper, and no one pushed him to.

But his mind stayed stuck on her. Why wasn’t she here? Had something happened? The thought gnawed at him, making his stomach twist uncomfortably.

After the session ended, Jey lingered near the door, hoping for some kind of explanation. He debated asking one of the volunteers if they’d heard from her but hesitated. What if they didn’t know? What if it wasn’t their place to say?

He sighed, running a hand down his face before heading back to his car. The drive home felt longer than usual, the silence in the car pressing down on him. Once he parked in the driveway, he pulled out his phone, scrolling aimlessly before landing on Rhea’s Instagram.

She hadn’t posted anything since the weekend—just a picture of herself curled up on the couch. No clues, no updates. Jey stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the message button. Should he reach out?

Finally, he typed, “Missed you at group today. You good?”

He hesitated for a moment, then hit send. The message hung there, unread, as Jey leaned back in his seat, staring at the darkened screen. He closed his eyes, the weight of the day pulling at him. Whatever was going on with Rhea, he hoped she was okay.

[uchihaharlot]

Hi, I hope you're doing well, I don't know if requests are open, but if they are. Can you write an angst about a reader who is pregnant with Shisui during the same period of his death?🥺

Nonny!!! ❤️ my heart is so so so broken for him and you. Also I’m sorry this took forever 😅 work is a drag; and I rarely have enough energy to do anything afterwards.

My grandmothers most famous line, and I’m not bullshitting you; was: to get over one man, you should get under another.

N/SFW; angsty—overtly depressing?; not proof read; and now I’m sad 😔 DESCRIPTIONS OF VERY VERY SAD SHIT; nonny, Shisui is crying in purgatory because of you—he wants to hold his baby!! And sorrynotsorry but I’m definitely blurring the timeline of the show for dramatics, sue me.

But that’s not the case for you, is it? Especially not when the only thing tethering Shisui to your plane of existence grows within the soft swell of your stomach. Too small to show, and to much to bear.

That night will for be engraved in your mind. The way your knees buckled; almost falling face down into the dirt had it not been for Itachi-san. Him too, crouched with you as you both ugly cry. It was hard for him to be that torn, let alone see you shredded. Barring teeth with snot; the most gutteral outcry of pain.

Of course it’s not easy for you, this whole thing will never be easy. You can’t sleep, can’t eat. Hell, half the time it feels like you’re just going through the motions. It’s hard to be grateful for new beginnings when recent endings are so fresh, the wound not even cauterized. It just seeps and oozes into the deepest crevices of your soul, a permanent branding. It’s hard to be grateful for new beginnings when recent endings are so fresh. The cascading tidal wave of emotions is exhausting, and it’s mostly due to your hormones. Grief, anger. Desperation, longing and joy.

Was it really this fair to feel a little bit happy when Shisui is somewhere, nowhere to be found? His corpse endlessly floating— no. Full stop. You don’t even want to go there, how many times have you pictured it? How morbid of you, you think; to wish to see him. Even in that state. That if it were the only way to see him again, you would.

And you get angry, on very bad days, shut the world out. How can live when it’s the end of the world? How can people, Uchiha or not, be so nonchalant. In fact, the only person who really shares your grief is Itachi. And he’s pitted as Shisui’s aggressor, his means to an end. But that’s not the case.

Slowly, you come around. Itachi is there, and both your griefs are endless. Sometimes you feel that his is more vast; and it probably is. Definitely is. So you tell him your secret, hoping it would bring joy. Though it nearly broke him all over again. There, in the midst of chaos and confusion and mayhem. Is still a little piece of Shisui.

But, this is the most inopportune time for happiness. You see, dear old Itachi-san has a secret; one he cannot tell you. The government coercion behind the curtain, his upcoming mission. The happiness he shares with you in this brief moment of reprieve from your darkest days is short lived. The feeling of his presence changes, making you uncomfortable with sharing this news.

Itachi’s final words to you are devoid of emotion and severely cold, ‘if you know what’s good for you, you won’t tell anyone else.’ It’s a threat and a silent plea all at once. You soon find out later about that, and it’ll all make sense.

Pregnancy feels so uneventful to you. After the massacre, you’re one less person to share your grief and it only grows more once the details are revealed. Your life; your baby. Your Shisui. It feels like everything around you won’t ever stand on solid ground. As a good mother you buck up and slowly integrate back into a mundane routine.

First milestones are less than exciting, but still hold weight. Those tiny black images, hung on your fridge. They bring momentary happiness each time you pass them. The first time it’s little heartbeat echoes off the walls in the medical room make your heart feel less empty, but you still cry over the sink eating your lunch like a rat.

Eating is more of a challenge, but eventually the cravings will make sustaining your growing body easier. The vitamins help too, but it’s still difficult to find your stomach from time to time.

I think the only day you aren’t a complete mess is when your water breaks while you’re waiting for a decaf tea. Two weeks early, figures. Nothing goes according to plan, you’ve become accustomed to expecting the unexpected. And this day, this is when the weight of Shisui’s loss is wayfared into the world, and placed in your arms.

Smol, tiny. Itty bitty little hands. Big and soft dark eyes, just as his were. In fact, as time passes by. There’s not a day you don’t think your baby is more Shisui than you. He’s all you’ll ever see in them, and some days you’ll feel a twinge of sadness. But mostly it’s pure unadulterated love.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x reader

Word count: 5.4k

Notes: Editing is the biggest pain in the entire world why do I do this to myself anyway I'm on my laptop now, gee I NEVER use this thing

Episode 5: Secret Plans and Clever Tricks

"I can't believe you talked me into this" May huffs as Buck awkwardly climbs through the window. He lands in a little heap on the floor and she rolls her eyes. 

"I'm sorry alright! Bobby would kill me if he found out I was dating his niece"

"When are you telling him by the way?" She asks, offering him her lint roller from her desk. He picks himself up off the floor and takes it, rolling himself off

"Never!" He smiles widely and she snickers at him 

"You guys can't keep hiding forever" 

The bedroom door opens and he dives behind her bed, crawling under it. You walk in, tossing your coat onto your bed 

"Is he here yet? I got home as fast as I could"

"Were you speeding?? I told you to take your time" Bucks head pops out from under the bed and you shriek, nearly launching yourself into space 

"What are you doing under there?!" 

"Why didn't you knock!"

"It's my room???" You gesture around to your shared room with May as he crawls out from under the bed 

"Yeah. Sure" he scoffs "Your room" he makes little air quotes around "room" and you roll your eyes at him 

"Just shut up and kiss me" 

"With pleasure" he puts his hands on your hips, pulling you against him, and kisses you, growling while you squeal and giggle 

"Ohhh I missed you" He groans softly as he peppers little kisses all over your face "I missed my pretty, pretty, little doll"

"You know for two people who aren't dating yet, you sure are heavy on the PDA" May scoffs and grabs her hoodie to go out 

"You're dead wrong if you think I'm gonna pass up absolutely any chance I get to kiss her. Besides four more dates and she's mine" 

He picks you up and you squeak, wrapping your arms and legs around his neck and clinging to him 

"Lock the door on your way out?" He bats his eyelashes at May and she rolls her eyes, shaking her head. 

"I swear to god y'all better keep it to your side of the room or I'm rioting"

"I promise!" You giggle as Buck flops in your bed 

"I don't!" He rolls you guys over, smothering you into the covers and you laugh, trying to push him off but he just hums happily, squishing you more

"Buck don't get caught" May warns him before she leaves, locking the door behind her 

"How did you even arrange this?" You ask as he rolls off of you but pulls you into his arms, against his chest

"I stole May's number from Eddie's phone and texted her and begged her to help me out. I'm not above begging okay" 

You laugh into your pillows and turn on your back so you can look at him, he smiles down at you, propping himself up on his elbow 

"What did she say," you ask, looking up at him and he bends down, kissing your nose 

"She told me I owed her five uses of my Jeep whenever she wanted unless it's like a no-choice circumstance and I couldn't lend it to her. It's a sweet car, I get it" 

"You love that jeep" you gasp and he blushes, looking up at the ceiling 

"Eh, not as much as I love you" 

Your mouth drops open and he looks back down at you, his heart stopping in his chest. 

"I- I mean like- shit I mean like hanging out with you! I don't. I don't love you! That would be weird!" 

You nod along with his rambling, watching his cheeks flush as he tries to backtrack 

"Psh yeah, yeah no love from me" 

"You want me to believe you?" 

"It would be nice if you did," He says sheepishly, smoothing his hand over your hair 

"Yeah okay sure" 

"Okay good, Eddie would kill me if he knew I said that" 

"Why would he kill you?" You ask curiously, enjoying the way his fingers rub smooth circles on your head 

"He says I'm not a Disney Princess" 

"Well that's just not true" you joke and he throws his hand in the air

"That's exactly what I told him!!! If anyone here is a Disney Princess it's me" He sighs, slightly irritated at Eddie as he goes back to messing with your hair, you snort and curl up into his chest more 

"Whatever you say, Princess Buck" 

There's not much you can do together right now, he really just wanted to come over to hang out. He can't exactly just invite you over by yourself, he'd have to lie and say Eddie was there too, and then he'd have to deal with Bobby saying you couldn't be alone with two boys and then you'd have to talk about how you're an adult and-

"Hello? Buck?" You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks 

"Huh?"

"I said do you want a snack or something? I have some stuff. What were you thinking about?" 

"Do you want to come over to my house tomorrow?" He reaches over you, grabs the plastic bag from the floor and starts going through it. He doesn't care actually, he'll really just invite Eddie too. Eddie doesn't mind being a third-wheel 

"Just me and you?" You ask grabbing an Arizona fruit punch from the bag 

"Do you want it to just be me and you?" Or maybe he won't invite Eddie. 

"Kinda" you blush and he smiles a little, opening the bag of hot Cheetos 

"Okay…" 

Buck is doing a horrible job of keeping quiet in your bedroom, Athena can hear his giggles as she walks by the room and you shushing him. She's not sure when he got in the house; she just knows he's there.

She'll allow it, for now. It's kind of cute if anything… but you're definitely getting a safe sex talk when she gets the chance. 

"So…. Do they make it to Shell City?" Buck asks as you take his other hand and start filing his nails 

"You just have to watch!!!" You scold him for the fourth time. Neither of you knew what to watch and so you just turned on the old SpongeBob Movie from 2004, Buck had never seen it and you were flabbergasted. He was totally poking through your stuff when he found your box of nail polish, he looked at you coyly and you smirked at him, reaching out for the box 

"Any specific color?" You asked as you set things up 

"Anything you want, I want to match my boo" he teases you as he sits criss cross on your bed. 

"We should go out for lunch" You mumble as you paint little flowers on his nails, he watches you, enjoying the way your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth in concentration. You squint as you add a little dot of yellow in the middle, your hands are so steady and he's impressed 

"I have to fall out of the window, but sure! Sounds good to me, where do you want to go?" 

You giggle as you blow on his nails "Anywhere you want…. Maybe we could pick something up and go drive somewhere to eat it?….kinda like a date"

You try to be as nonchalant as possible with it but he's already practically bouncing off the bed 

"As in one of the four dates?!" He's almost shouting. You slap your hands over his mouth and nod quickly 

"Shut up! Athena is home!" You climb into his lap, still holding your hands over his mouth 

"Yes. As in one of the four dates… I would really really like that" 

His hands settle on your hips, and he splays his fingers carefully to not smudge his nails. You put your hands on his shoulders and he leans in immediately, capturing your lips and kissing your breathless 

"I'm ready whenever you are… But uh- I kinda forgot" 

"Forgot what?" You say, your eyes partially lidded, still reeling from his kiss 

"May took my Jeep" 

"I can drive us!" You're excited now as you pull away from him and get out of bed. He watches you grab a pair of shorts and pull them up your thighs, jumping a little to get them over your ass. He whimpers at the sight and you turn to him, narrowing your eyes 

"Simp" you tease and he gets up from the bed, rolling his eyes 

"Wholeheartedly. I am in no way shape or form ever going to deny that when it comes to you. Do I get to wear the white kitty helmet?" He's getting his stuff ready to climb out of the window 

"You sure do" You walk over to the window with him, and he puts one leg out and turns back to you 

"C'mere" He trails his finger down your cheek and hooks it under your chin, pulling you to him and kissing you. It leaves you a little breathless and he smiles haughtily 

"See you outside Princess"

You connect the two helmets and hand one to Buck as he climbs on the back of your motorcycle. He puts it over his head and knocks gently against yours 

"All set" 

He has no problem being on the back of your bike. In fact, he's overjoyed to be behind you, you can feel his hands slide over your sides, feeling you up before he wraps his arms securely around your waist 

"Happy?" Your voice surrounds him in the helmet and he practically purrs as he settles against you more, hanging on like a little koala 

"Oh you're driving us everywhere from now on" he sighs happily and you giggle, purposely sending your hips back a bit more than necessary, you hear him groan as you kick off the stand and take off. 

He's enjoying himself immensely on the back of your bike, the playlist he made you plays through the speakers of your helmets as you weave in and out of traffic on the highway. Bobby would kill him and he thinks you're gonna kill him too when he leans back slightly letting the air flow over his body, he holds out his arms like he's flying and you giggle, speeding up for him.

"You're gonna get yourself killed," You say and he chuckles, putting his hands back on your hips and squeezing them 

"What's the point of living if you're not gonna do something stupid every once in a while?" 

"Stupid huh? Get ready Jack" 

You put your arms out like he had and he laughs, holding your waist as you drive straight down the highway 

"This is really dangerous!" He yells out and you giggle wildly

"I thought you liked dangerous!" You taunt him and he wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you down so you don't go flying off the bike. You look pretty like that, he thinks he likes this best. When you seem carefree and wild, you make him feel infinite. 

Pulling into the McDonald's parking lot you just decide to eat there since you've only got the bike, and you promise that it still counts as one of your dates as long as you go to Target afterward 

 "Um… Can I drive to Target?" Buck asks sheepishly as he sets the tray down on the table. You slide it towards you set his stuff down for him and go to open your nuggets

"Course you can, you can even drive us home if you want" 

"Seriously? You're not kidding" Buck watches you stuff a fry in your mouth and you smile a little before swallowing 

"Why would I be lying? I know you can drive one! Athena mentioned it when I first got here… she said we might have some stuff in common" You dip your nugget into the barbecue sauce and bring it to your face, inspecting before you eat it

"I was pretty eager to meet you" 

"Really? You were?" He opens his cheeseburger and takes a bite, his eyes rolling back for a second before he goes to sip his Coke

"Uh huh" Your cheeks flush a little as you admit it to him 

"What are you two doing here?" 

Buck chokes on his drink and Bobby pats his back, your eyes are as wide as saucers as you pull out your phone frantically sending an SOS to Eddie. You silently pray he's not busy 

"Uh we are-" He coughs a little, clearing his throat "We're just eating lunch" 

"Together?" Bobby asks, and you can already feel him entering dad mode 

"No! No of course not" You scoff, taking another nugget and gesturing with it 

"We're waiting for Eddie. You know us, a...trio"

"We're the dynamic duo but not!" Buck beams up at him and Bobby narrows his eyes skeptically 

"Why isn't Eddie here now?" 

"I've only got room on my bike for two?" You shrug awkwardly, it sounds more like a question than an explanation. 

"Guess that makes sense…" He shrugs back and you and Buck look at each other for a moment, you check your phone again, pretending to just look at the time, but there's a text from Eddie 

Cakes: Be there in 5

You lift your phone, gesturing with it "He's uh- he's almost here. Why don't you go order his food now Buck? You know since we wanted it to stay hot and all?"

Buck has the dumbest look on his face for a second and you blink rapidly at him 

"Oh! Oh duh! Oh yeah!" He trips over his feet getting up and stumbles into Bobby 

"Sorry" he pats his shoulder awkwardly before going back up to the counter and you cringe a little 

"You've been hanging out with them a lot lately" Bobby sits down and shifts Buck's food over a bit, folding his hands in front of him on the table 

"I mean yeah… they're like my only friends here" 

"What about Hen? Or May? Are you two getting along?"

You sigh and push your food away "Yes, we're getting along just fine… and Hen has a wife Bobby I'm sure she wants to be with her on her days off"

"It wouldn't hurt to have a girl's night, maybe I can have Athena set something up"

"I don't even know them like that" You roll your eyes and he raises an eyebrow 

"Well, this will be the perfect way for you to get to know them like that. I just want you to have more friends Y/N… honestly. I want you to have a support network"

"You mean more friends and a support network that aren't two attractive, single, grown men"

"That too! Wait, you think they're attractive?" 

You look up to see Eddie rushing in and Buck pointing over to your table, his mouth drops wide open and you cover your eyes with your hands 

"I'm gonna be so real with you Uncle Bobby, you're totally embarrassing me right now" You let your head fall on the table and groan loudly as the guys walk over with Eddie's food. Buck slides in next to you and Bobby scoots over for Eddie 

"Sorry, I'm late guys! I left the house later than I wanted" 

Bobby passes Buck his food and the four of you eat together, the three of them are having a great time, talking and laughing while you're sitting quietly in the corner, just poking your fry in ketchup

Bobby is scolding Eddie saying something inappropriate when you feel Buck's hand on your thigh, you look over at him and he looks down at you, taking your hand in his, he nudges you with his arm a little and you smile, nudging him back 

It's cute and Buck's heart skips a beat, with the way you look up at him, he leans in a little wanting to kiss your nose when suddenly he yelps and pulls away from you 

"Are you okay?" Bobby looks up at Buck and he smiles innocently, his eyes wide and crazy as he stares at Eddie 

"Yup! I'm great! Just wonderful and peachy" he reaches down and rubs his shin, and you snicker

"So what are you guys doing next?" Bobby asks, crushing up his wrapping and throwing it on the tray 

"Target!!" You say excitedly while Eddie stares back at Buck, they're clearly talking 

"Alright, you kids have fun, and get there safely alright? I'll see you at home later" Bobby gets up from the table and ruffles your hair and you push his hand away. You all say goodbye as he finally leaves. Buck leans over you, watching him leave, as soon as he's out of sight, Buck pulls you towards him and kisses you. He pushes you back against the wall and you gasp, surprised by his forwardness before melting into him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Buck gestures to Eddie to keep watch in case he comes back 

"You guys owe me. I had plans!" He groans as he looks out the window  

"You mean sitting on the couch in your underwear all day eating snacks and watching TV?" 

Buck asks as peppers little kisses all over your face like he likes to do and you giggle 

"Exactly. Now I have to trail behind you two in Target and watch you be gross"

"I promise we won't be gross! I'm sorry… I didn't expect him to show up like that…" 

Buck hugs you to him and Eddie sighs, looking at you both, his head in his hands and you kind of feel bad now. You push Buck away a little and he whines 

"Oh come on, we can't let Eddie feel left out! He's our boyfriend!" 

Buck looks at Eddie and frowns, He gets up from the table and goes to Eddie's side, hugging him as tight as he can. Eddie wheezes and slaps at his arms 

"Quit it!"

"No! I forgot the most important rule Bros before hoes!!" 

You flick some of the condensation on your cup at Buck and Eddie chuckles 

"Gee, thanks Buck" 

"Can we please go now? Or does the ho not get to make decisions" you ask sarcastically as you get up from the table and Buck giggles, taking your hand in his 

"The ho can make decisions" 

Buck drives your motorcycle to Target… alone. While you and Eddie trail behind him purposely honking at him and driving way too close to him on the way over. He flips you both off multiple times and you blare the horn when he drives with no hands, it's obnoxious but hilarious to the three of you. 

"You didn't have to include me. I was just kidding around" Eddie says as he turns down the radio on the playlist Buck made.

"You're my friend Eddie, and Buck's best friend. We can chill when we're with you, it's messed up not to. Besides! I like hanging out with you!"

"Don't let Buck hear you say that" He chuckles as he pulls into a parking space and parks the car. You lean over and kiss his cheek, and he smiles and kisses yours back. Suddenly the door opens and you squeak 

"See! This is why I don't leave you two alone together!! You make out without me!!" 

"We're not making out" Eddie snorts as he gets out of the car, locking the doors. You and Buck come around the car and you're on his back, holding onto his neck

"When did you do that," Eddie asks as he stares and Buck shrugs walking next to him and bouncing you along 

"Oh you know when you weren't paying attention" 

Buck dumps you into a cart as soon as you get inside and takes Eddie's shoulders, putting him in front of the cart to push it. He rolls his eyes but pushes you around anyway. You both drag Eddie to the toy aisle where you guys go wild and he's suddenly very glad you're in the cart. You grab a hockey stick and start to roll yourself away from him and he takes the stick from you putting it on a shelf 

"Yeah no absolutely not," He says as he pushes you to the next aisle. He's looking at a Captain America's Shield Lego set when Buck slips the hockey stick back into your cart. He winks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, whistling as he walks away 

"You think I should just go for it?… Y/N? Buck??" 

Eddie whirls around as you're using the stick to push you along as fast as you can 

"Oh my god are you five?!" 

Eddie finally reigns you both in, Making Buck keep one hand on the cart at all times and your hands in your lap, holding his Lego set and one for you and Buck each. You're both snickering and making jokes about him being such a dad 

"If you two are gonna act like kids I'm gonna treat you like kids. And if you keep messing around I'll spank you"

"Is that a promise?" You look back at him, making sweet doe eyes 

"Ayooooo" Buck yells, high-fiving you and Eddie pushes you away, letting you crash into one of the aisles. 

You all end up at Eddie's house, sitting at his kitchen table with a bunch of mismatched bowls, holding your Lego pieces 

"This is the coolest date I've ever been on," Buck says as he gnaws on a brick to pull it apart 

"You know you could just use this?" You say, holding up the little orange tool 

"That's for losers" 

"At least us losers still have all our teeth…" Eddie mumbles as he squints, focusing on putting two tiny little pieces together "Is this really still a date? I mean… I'm here with you" 

"I mean I didn't necessarily say who the date was with…" Buck wriggles his eyebrows and winks at Eddie

"Yup, just two boyfriends and their side piece," You say, grabbing a pink piece from your little bowl 

"Exactly! You see why I lo- Like her" He corrects himself quickly, making a little commotion with his pieces. Eddie glares at him for a second but goes back to work anyway, ignoring his little slip-up. The three of you work almost silently for a couple hours before Buck starts to get antsy 

"Hey uh…Y/N?" Buck breaks you from your concentration and you look up 

"What's up?" 

"This- this isn't like lame is it? I know it wasn't exactly our plans but like I just… are you having a good time? Because I'm having a good time… and like I just- I kinda wanna make sure we're on the same page" He looks so nervous when he asks you, stopping what he's doing to study your face 

"I'm gonna go order Chipotle, text me your orders," Eddie says, pushing away from the table and getting up to stretch. He wanders into the living room and flops on the couch lying down so he can't see you two 

You get up now, making Buck scoot his chair back so you can stand between his legs 

"I'm having a really good time" you reassure him, putting your arms around his neck, his hands slide up the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to him 

"You mean it?" He asks, looking up at you as you run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little 

"Of course I mean it! I like hanging out with you and being around you Buck, even if things aren't exactly as planned it's really nice to just be with the person you… want to be with" 

He hums softly, leaning into your hands as you massage his head messing up his hair. 

"Are you okay with this being one of our dates?" You ask him and he nods enthusiastically 

"Of course I am! You're right, even if Eddie is totally crashing it-"

"Hey!!"

"It's nice to just be around you" 

He pulls you closer, parting your legs so you sit in his lap. He stands up, holding your ass and kissing you passionately. You feel his tongue swipe over your lips and you gasp, letting him slip it right into your mouth. He carries you into the living room, snapping at Eddie 

"I'm gone" He puts his hands up as he scoots out of the living room and down to his bedroom. Buck gets on the couch, laying back so you're on top of him 

"We shoulda taken the bedroom" He chuckles as you straddle him and smirk 

"Yeah because Eddie would let that happen" You sass him and he holds your hips, rubbing soft circles on them before you lean down, your lips connecting with his.

The doorbell rings and you squeak, nearly falling off his lap. He whines when you pull away and you swat at his chest 

"Oh quit it" You pant softly, as he reaches up and brushes your hair out of your face 

"But I need you" 

And he knows exactly what he's doing when he says it like that, all pathetic and pouty… his eyes wide and watery like he just can't go on unless you go back to kissing him 

"I-I" You're speechless as he slides his hands up your sides and under your shirt 

"Wanna know what it feels like for your nails to dig into me babydoll" 

"Is he doing his lil bitch voice again?" Eddie asks as he walks past the couch, and you nearly fall off of Buck laughing. His mouth drops wide open and he sits up, holding your hips so you don't fall off 

"You did not just call it that!" He yells at Eddie who's grabbing the Chipotle from the ground 

"Are you gonna tell me I'm wrong?!" He yells back 

"Okay, but she loves it!" Buck launches a throw pillow at him and Eddie yelps, dodging it

"I didn't say she didn't!! Did I say you didn't?!"

"No??" You say, as Buck sets you on the couch and stumbles over his feet, before chasing after Eddie. Eddie tosses the bag at you and you catch it while he goes running off, both men yelling at each other. 

As you're setting the bowls out on the kitchen counter you hear a loud crash and Buck and Eddie screaming 

"Uhhh??? What was that!?" You yell down the hallway 

"Nothing!!" They shout back in unison 

You give Buck a ride back to your place where his Jeep is waiting, he gets in and you duck inside, pulling him to you, and kiss him

"Can I…" He starts, holding your hand in his "You think I could go park down the street somewhere and sneak back up here?"

"You want to stay for a bit?" You ask curiously, your cheeks flushed "I think I can sneak you in through the back…" 

"Please? That sounds nice…" He kisses your forehead "I just… I want to be with you just a little longer.. please..?" His voice is soft and hesitant like he's a little worried about even suggesting it 

You smile at him, nodding and stepping back "Hurry up and go find somewhere to park, I'll be waiting for you"

"Yeah okay, anything for you Doll" 

Buck looks ridiculous as he sneaks back to the house, if he was walking like a normal freaking person he would look 10 times less suspicious. But it's Buck, he can't do anything the simple way. 

You're leaning against the doors, watching him sneak through the yard like a complete idiot and it's hilarious. You open the glass door and he has to fight everything in him not to pull you in and kiss you. He slips off his shoes and picks them up so he doesn't make any noise 

"Come on you weirdo" You roll your eyes as he grabs your hips and walks you back to your bedroom. You sneak in, sliding into your bed, and watch him kick off his pants and crawl into bed with you 

"Why would you do that!" You scold him "I'm already barely wearing anything"

"That's exactly why I did that" He purrs in your ear as he rolls over onto you.

Honestly, Athena let the first time slide. It was daytime, and that was fine. She sits at the kitchen table, slowly stirring her tea. Because Buck is going to leave the exact same way you snuck him in, through the large glass patio doors. She listens to his soft footsteps as he pads down the stairs without his shoes on. She hears the whispers and your giggles as he kisses you goodbye and she hears him avoid the creaky floorboard. 

He's sneaking right past the table when Athena clinks her spoon against her cup once. He cringes slowly as he turns on his heel towards the table 

"Hi Mom" 

She nods towards the seat next to her and he stomps over, huffing and pouting 

"Pick your feet up"

He straightens up, dropping into the chair next to her. She pushes a cup to him and the sugar and he smiles a little, making himself a cup 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Oh you know… just uh… hangin out" He sheepishly stirs his tea, avoiding looking up. She stares at him, bringing her cup to her mouth 

"At two in the morning?" 

He holds his cup in both hands, staring down at the swirling sugar, and sighs 

"Y/N let me in… it wasn't her fault! I begged her to. I just- I just wanted to spend a little more time with her…" 

"At two in the morning?" She repeats herself

"I know I shouldn't have… I'm sorry. Just- please don't tell Bobby. He's gonna kill me, he's so protective of her and he has every right to be!! I am too" 

"I'm not gonna tell him, it's not my place. But you will not be sneaking into my house at two in the morning anymore, do you understand me?" 

"Yes ma'am" He blushes, sipping his tea 

"And you two will be practicing safe sex" 

"Oh my god" Buck chokes on his tea, his face turning a lovely shade of crimson. 

"We- no- no, no we're not- No we're not even having sex right now" he's stumbling over his words, trying so hard to not die of embarrassment because he knows she can easily get rid of his body 

"Evan Buckley, I was not born yesterday. You sneak into her bedroom and you think I don't know what's happening?" 

"No, I swear, I swear we haven't done anything. And we- okay we're not even technically together yet! She said three more dates and then she'll be my girlfriend and I absolutely do not plan on having sex with her before then. Not to mention May is in there too!! She's literally right across the room!" 

"And you haven't been back to your place?" She asks calmly, watching him practically burn up in his seat 

"No!! Not once!… a-actually uh…actually we're going to my place tomorrow. Just to hang out, I promise. Eddie might come over too. I'm not sure yet, he might be busy."

"Look, things happen, Buck, you're a very attractive young man-"

"Oh my god" 

"And she's a very attractive young lady-"

"Are you wearing your gun by any chance?" 

"And things could get steamy-"

"Please- Mom please"

"I'm just saying!! I'd like to know if you have protection. And if you don't you need to go get it before she comes over. If you need money for it I'll give it to you"

Buck is laid out on the table, smacking his head against it. Athena puts her hand on his head, chuckling as she ruffles his hair 

"You take care of my baby. Don't let me hear you went back to being a womanizer"

"I really like her, like… I really like her. I'll be good to her, I just hope I can be good enough for her"

"You just keep being you, Buck. Don't get in your head, just keep being that sweet man we all know you are and it'll be okay. You deserve to be happy baby" 

Buck smiles, turning his head to look at Athena, he sits up, taking her hand in his and squeezing it 

"I promise to do my best" 

They finish their tea together, he gushes about you and all of the dates he has planned and she smiles, listening to him talk. She even gives input on a few details for some of his dates, it's 3:30 when he finally gets to leave. He washes up his cup and kisses her cheek before ducking out the back door.