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multiples-fandomswontkillme · 3 years

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~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

#metal family #glam metal family #ches metal family #victoria metal family #chess metal family #dee metal family #heavy metal family #metal family glam #metal family victoria #metal family dee #metalfamily #metal family heavy

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dilfbane · 3 years

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It Gets Better(A Silky Pearl)

Summary: It’s been a long time since things have gotten this bad. Loki, returned from his latest mission, lets you know that, with help and support, you can overcome the worst of things, and makes sure you know that he’ll be there with you to get you through it, each and every day.

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Reader in this fic struggles with eating disorders. Thoughts and feelings related to these(specifically to anorexia and bulimia), are made throughout the fic, especially those that, in my personal experience, people with these disorders experience. I cannot stress enough that this will be discussed/referenced/talked about, sometimes explicitly(Though not graphically) and sometimes implicitly, so please be aware of that and know that it’s OK to take care of yourself and skip this one if that would be triggering to you!

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I want to preface this by saying that there are a LOT of people, both here and on AO3, who have made some amazing Loki/reader oneshots where the reader is struggling with mental health and/or physical health issues, that really provide a sense of warmth and fluff and support to people who may be going through those things themselves, and I’ve taken a lot of comfort in those fics over the course of the pandemic(I’ll be shouting out a couple of them in the tags!). I want to acknowledge that these exist, and that they’re awesome and have partly inspired my own writing, before talking about this little project I’m embarking on.

Because, while I have gotten a lot of comfort out of many of those pieces of writing, there are definitely some things which I feel like aren’t talked about as much in pieces like these which I have gone through, and which a lot of other people have gone/are going through, and…. I figured that maybe I could take a crack at trying to provide that hit of fluff for people dealing with those things, if I can, and hopefully use my own experience with them to do it in as respecful and accurate a way as possible.

All that being said, the first oneshot in this little project is going to be dealing with a pretty heavy subject, that being eating disorders. The reader in this fic does struggle with eating disorders - specifically anorexia and bulimia. I will not be actively describing anything too graphic about these disorders in this fic, except to highlight through implication and some sparse details that this is what’s happening here, as well as show some of the inner thought processes of the reader, but there definitely is enough in here to show that that’s what’s going on, so if anyone would be triggered by that, please take care of yourselves and give this one a pass! Also, I will further disclaim that there are many types of eating disorders, and everyone’s experience with them is different. In this oneshot, I wrote based off what I know to have been true during the time in my life when I struggled with the same conditions, and I really tried to make the fluff and support as kind and encouraging as I possibly could. If for ANY REASON there’s something that I did badly at, or something that’s disrespectful, anyone reading this may feel more than free to let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it! I don’t want this fic to be a place where anyone feels hurt or disrespected, that isn’t my intention at all, and if I make a mistake in that regard for any reason whatsoever, I would really appreciate knowing so that I can correct it!

Anyways, after that extremely lengthy A/N, just… please know, if you’re going through something like this, that you’re not alone, that help does exist and is out there, and that you are seen and heard. And take this Loki fluff, because honestly, there can never be too much of that in the world!

You know that he worries about you. Even before his latest, three-week mission, you know that he worried about you. In the mornings, as you pour your coffee, you watch him watch you with careful nonchalance, gaze boring into the back of your head, slight furrow creasing his eyebrows, frown pulling small at his lips. He dresses early, because he wakes early; it is a battle, most mornings, for you to get out of bed. And so what, if you take your coffee with more creamer than is necessarily normal - it has to last you a long time, this coffee. You need the sugar of it, to get you to that clean pain. It is sharper, more real, than any scalpel, any knife that Loki keeps concealed by his armor; all that fine Asgardian leather, green and supple and him. It gives you back the control that you lack. Lets you be the person that you would be.

It’s not that you’re afraid of your body, but you are ashamed by it; cannot fathom, even now with his gaze on you, that Loki could love somebody so dreadfully overweight.

Today, though - Today, you had thought, you had hoped, that it might be different. You don’t know why you have that hope, but it brims up in you; a physical need, a visible yearning, for you to be enough for once. Someone that Loki can stand to look at. Someone that Loki can love. He is looking at you now like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you flinch from the frown that creases his piercing gaze, unable to bear how it roves up the planes of your body; silhoutted in the light coming in through the window, you can feel each ounce of fat that stretches over your sinew, cartilage. (You know that Loki hates your body - He traces it sometimes like he’s probing you, trying to find where your bones are. You wish that you could call him on it, and know that you never could).

You stand at the counter, and turn from him; rummage in the cabinet for your coffee mug with shaking fingers; you almost feel like they’re rubber. Blue and cold, like his Jotun skin, but you know that it isn’t enough. Pins and needles prick at them - you can almost convince yourself that it’s only your guilt and shame, but you cannot hide from the pain suffusing Loki’s voice when he speaks.

“Darling,” He says, on a shaky breath, “We need to talk about this.”

“I know -” You tell him - you know that you can’t run from this, anymore. He knows how you look, how nothing you do is fixing it. And now, he’s going to leave you. “I know, Loki - I tried, Loki, I’m so sorry -“

The agony that wells up in you threatens to overwhelm your ability to speak, and you feel your knees buckle the second before you fall. Your kneecaps slam against the cupboard underneath the sink, your head hitting the edge of the counter as you slide down hard to the floor. It hurts. But every part of your body hurts, these days. It’s as constant as your worthlessness. And something else, too -

He is there, on the floor with you, in less time than it takes place to blink, pulling you hard and desperate into his arms; you don’t understand why, and you try to wrench yourself from him, sobs bubbling up and spilling out from your tightly shut eyes. You can feel the bruises starting to form on you, a lump throbbing at your temple.

“Love,” He is saying, “Y/N, sweetheart, come back to me. Come back to me, darling, please.” He is stroking your hair; you feel his fingers at its strands, thin and brittle. God, you think, how pathetic you are - you can’t even keep yourself pretty for him, for this god and all the sacrifices that he’s made. You cry harder, unable to stop your own wailing. When you finally do, you’re exhausted - it takes everything out of you.

“Loki,” You say, on a wretched whine, “I’m so cold.”

“Hush,” He says, “You’re alright. You’ll be warm soon - We’ll sort it, darling, I promise.”

You don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t something you can sort, but somehow you know, deep in your heart, that Loki understands. Still, his voice is so sweet, and the shudders that wrack you begin to halt in the steady hold of his embrace; the tender brush of his fingers over your skin. You feel like you can look at him, now, so you do it, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth to steel yourself for the cruel things you’re certain he’ll start with. But Loki’s gaze isn’t angry at you, not full of fury or disgust. They sparkle with unshed tears and concern, emerald in the daylight. It takes you a moment too long to realize all that pain, all that worry, is for you; when you do, though, you flinch away. Feel Loki’s fingers drop from your hairline to your cheek, then your chin, tilting your head up so that you can’t run and hide.

“I’m losing you, love,” Loki says. His voice is low, and steeped in sorrow. It is his turn to look down, with guilt and shame, and you feel a pang blossom, raw and red, in your heart. He sighs, and straightens his shoulders. He is filled with some new resolution, some new determination you can’t wince away from.

“I need to know,” Loki tells you, “How long this has been going on. I need to - I need you to tell me why, love. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“I can’t,” You say, blinking back a fresh torrent of tears, “Tell you why. It’s not - I can’t - I don’t know.”

But you know, and Loki does, too. It’s the god of lies, holding you - of course he can tell that you’re lying. It is something other, and runs deep, this bone-y reluctance. A complex game of mental gymnastics. How could you ever tell Loki about the control that it gives you, the desperation with which you used all your calorie-counting and aching restraint to regain the love that you lost? The nights bent over toilet bowls; the way that, sometimes, you empty stomach made you dig your nails hard into your palms ’til they bled, to stop yourself from crying out at the pain. And he loves you - the part of you that craves his affection, that yearns to burrow fast and fierce into Loki’s embrace and spill all your secrets to him, makes sure to remind you of that.

“Y/N,” Says Loki, soft and tender, yet infused with a note so harsh that you would wince, if you could. “You can tell me anything. You need to.”

You notice things, now, in the face of his determination. You notice that Loki is looking at you like he’s in physical pain, and that there’s something sticky and red on the pads of the fingers that brushed up against your head.

“I’m bleeding,” You say. It comes out soft, horrified.

The frown that creases Loki’s face would bring you to your knees, if you weren’t there already.

“It’s just - a thing that I do,” You tell him, too ashamed to look at his face as you reveal it. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“That’s not enough for me, love.”

Loki’s lips are pursed tight, and the wound in his eyes has hardened to steel. The you part of your body - the fleeing part, the one who knows how to survive - seizes its’ chance and you duck out of his embrace, with far more strength than you had possessed in what felt like, potentially, years. Scrambles, backwards, like a cornered animal, over the tile floor, before heaving itself up to standing. It faces Loki, and its’ breath comes in stabbing-sharp. It is hard to remember that you have to call it ‘myself’. You feel older than you were, yesterday, and you cannot, quite, get air to come into your lungs. That’s not enough for me, you hear your lover say, ringing in your ears like a hyena’s howl.

You’re not enough for me, love. Your fingers spasm, clutching the sides of the kitchen table white-knuckled. You wonder, fleetingly, what Loki would do if you died. The thought makes you cry out in pain, a whimper ripping out from a throat rubbed fingernail-raw, but Loki does not move to stand.

“Come back to me,” He tells you, spiked with sorrow and need. And, perhaps for the first time, you admit it - to yourself, as much as to him.

“I don’t - I don’t think I know how.”

He smiles the smiole of someone who’s seen his own pain, faced his own lashing demons, and you pause to take him in fully, this god who says that he loves you, the man he is trying to be. You catch on hixs eyes, those bright emerald coins, his hair like the feathers of crows. His high, pale cheekbones, and his silver-tongue cut like glass. The pads of his fingertips, slender and cold, tender and fierce on your skin or the hilt of a dagger. You breathe in the smell of him, parchment and iron; peppermint tea and the smoke from a lorn, crimson fire. Wet leaves, after a rain. You feel your resolve start to waver.

“Well,” He says, all thoughtful, all trickster, “Sitting down, I believe, would be a good place to begin.”

The teasing lilt of his voice - an act that he is putting on, and all for you, always for you - cajoles you, coaxing you to lever your elbows and slide back down onto the floor, your weary legs feeling unimaginably grateful. Loki shoots you a new smile now, light and proud. He beckons you, with a cock of his head and a slim, fond gesture, to him - Of a sudden, the tiles beneath you seem like a desert, an ocean. You feel the weight of your emptiness. It laughs at you, its’ white teeth filed and barred. In your head, your failure is heavy; a hot and cackling creature with seven-foot claws pressing down on your chest, restricting your matchstick limbs. You are lost to the unyielding insistence of it, trapped in the maw of its cage, and Loki’s words, when they come, sound as far away as the shores of a country ancient and foreign.

“I was hardly gone,” He is saying, but you cannot answer him. “How could it have gotten this bad?”

It is that - that sadness, that fear in your lover - that breaks you, and you take the thing at a clumsy, terror-steeped sprint, not caring how wretched you look, so long as you can reach him - So long, you finally let yourself think, as there is something left of you for Loki to hold in his arms. Your body hurts worse than anything. You feel every scrape and bruise and chill on it; the pins and knives working at oxygen-starved nerves, and the gnawing clamp of your hunger, a brand pressing into your gut; and you know that Loki can’t save you. But maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to save yourself. And his fingers are there, going up to your hair, thumb rubbing at a hollow cheek and catching the salty dirge of an errant tear.

“It gets better, you know,” Loki tells you. He gets you onto his lap; you feel his heartbeat under your palms where you clutch tightly at his shirt to hold yourself up. A steady, thrumming proof that he is alive. And when he says it, you get the sense that, somehow, you’ve always know it, this whispered secret he’s weaving into your soul. “If you get proper help for it. If you want it to.”

He speaks casually, but there is a weight to his words. Miraculously - you’re not quite so sure how - you find yourself able to meet them.

“I want it to,” You tell him. “I didn’t, before - “ And here his eyes widen, and he shakes his head like you’ve shot him - “But I do. I want to -“

“Alright, love,” He tells you, running a soothing hand down over your side, past the hard planes of your collarbone, “Alright. It’s okay. You’re such a strong person- It’s going to be hard, for awhile, but I know that you can get through this. I’ll be right here with you, darling. Right here, by your side.”

“You will?” You ask him, voice cracking, hardly daring to hope that despite all this, he would stay. He chuckles, sadly, as if your thinking it hurts him, and he is deadly serious when he tells you,

“Y/N, of course I will.”

Somehow, though he’s the god of lies, you don’t doubt his words for an instant. You nod, and the nodding takes effort. Yet you are certain he understands what you mean.

“So,” Says Loki, “Can you - Tell me about this?”

You have to think, for a minute. Can you tell Loki about this? You know that he’s telling the truth, that he isn’t going to leave you. Still, you’ve never been this vulnerable with him before, not even in bed, and the fear in you won’t be put to rest so easily. You shake in his hold, and realize, with a frigid shock, how you must look to him - how badly you are hurting him, and how badly you’re hurting yourself, by keeping your feelings inside yourself and leaving your body to rot. You know, now, that Loki will help you through this - that he will be there, kind touches skirting the bad days; warm, mischevious smirks smoothing the wrinkles of your persistent self-doubts. There was a time when you needed to do this - there will, probably, still be days when you feel like you need to do this, to get a firm hold over your life, and keep the jackals at bay. There are other words to keep yourself safe, though. Loki’s breath in the dark is more home to you than anything you’ve ever had, and his open waiting, here in the daylight, makes you brave enough to speak.

“Maybe… Over lunch?” You offer. You bite your lip and hold out the query, a silky pearl in your hand. For one moment, Loki seems to consider; after all, he is the trickster, and a man not given to acting rashly, or stripping the drama from his complicated schemes. If this is a scheme, you think that you might forgive him - Later, when his lips are on your frame, when you’re there with him, again. His lips twitch into a grin so affectionate and proud that you know- you know - that if you seek proper care and really want to get better, you’ll get through the days that feel like walking on broken glass. You’ve done so much for me, that grin tells you. Let me do this for you.

He reaches out, and takes the pearl. You hardly recognize the man who rained hell down on New York, who snorts and jabs with sarcasm at every word that comes out of Iron Man’s mouth.

“Breakfast?” He counters, shooting a pointed glance at the microwave clock. It is a dare and a promise - a challenge, but never a trick. It tastes like honey on your tongue.

“Fine,” You say, “But you’ll have to cook.” Some kind of joy is creeping its way into you. Your voice, you find, barely trembles.

“Midgardians,” Lok says, with an eye-roll - a friendly, loving glint in his eyes that refuses to fade. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who burns water.” The joke prods your tender, new understanding, reassures you that he is still Loki; that he isn’t going to treat you differently, like a child, just because you’re suffering. The smile comes full onto you, and you wriggle, stretching your arms over your head and yawning, exaggerated for effect to add to the banter.

“I never said that I couldn’t cook,” You tell Loki, “Just wanted you to do it.”

“Mm,” He says, “And what will you be doing, then, while I cook?”

You chew at your lip, and choose to answer before your nerves make you panic.

“Finding the right words,” You admit, laying the truth bare to him.

His hands are wending through your hair now, and his lips are unberarably gentle on yours. He tastes like embers and ink. That sweet, slightly metalic tang that you’ve come to associate with his magic; cinnamon, tinged with steel. He kisses you for a second or two, before pulling away, but you could live in those seconds - Unfold it, like a blanket, and let the care of it warm your thin, freezing bones, if Loki weren’t here to show you that, with the right help, you can learn how to do it yourself.

“Finding the right words,” Loki muses, vaulting himself up to stand in a movement that’s unfairly graceful. “I’d much prefer yours, to be honest.”

He holds a hand out, and you take it, letting him pull you up. The floor, underneath you, feels solid. The sun is coming through the clouds, and out there in the wide world you can hear bird-song, the low, sugared sway of the breeze. There is something else there, too:

You let it wrap its tendrils around you, and you decide that it’s hope.

#loki/reader #loki/female reader #established relationship #eating disorders #mental health struggles #not me writing 3k plus words of loki helping the reader come to terms with the fact that they can recover from their eating disorders #because that's what I wanted to have when I was going through it #soft loki #i mean seriously #yeah there's angst #BUT #also just an unrepentant amount of loki fluff #he says it in the fic but i'll mention it here too:#if you're going through anything like this #know that you don't have to do it alone!#and that not only is it okay to get professional help #it's a good and positive thing that can be a very important part of recovery!#you have so much love and support in your life #because you're a beautiful amazing strong person and it's NOT YOUR FAULT that you're struggling with a mental illness #fics mentioned in the beginning as inspirations for writing this(and the next couple oneshots I have lined up) include:#The 'Loki's Lullabies' series by kaoerin on AO3 #and the 'As You Are' series by hopeless_romantic_spoonie/yespolkadot_kitty #also on AO3 #if any of you are on tumblr i'm so sorry i don't know your url's #but y'all should go show these fics love

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uwurakax · 4 years

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boy, i need you ♡

pairing: akaashi x reader ♡

genre: angst // cheating // minimal swearing // suggestive (not explicit) ♡

summary: he knew it was wrong, every fibre of his being told him it needed to end with you. so why couldn’t he bring himself to do it? ♡

♡ sequel to ‘boy, i hate you’ - read the first part here ♡

word count: 2k ♡

author’s note: warning, not proofread or anything! wasn’t planning on part 2, but then it was brought up and i thought “hey i can work w a 2nd pt”. reader has no gender mentioned - but again ig default fem if theres vibes here? idk. also have a note at the end so there’s no spoilers here haha. excuse the crappy writing as always - my 2am brain refuses to work at any other time ty for coming to my tedtalk that no one cares about ✌️ ♡

♡ (inspired by f.u by little mix) ♡

unfaithful

/ʌnˈfeɪθfʊl,ʌnˈfeɪθf(ə)l/

adjective

1. engaging in intimate relations with a person other than one’s regular partner in contravention of a previous promise or understanding

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Akaashi couldn’t say exactly why his infidelity started. Honestly there was nothing inherently wrong with your relationship. You were amazing, loyal, kind and everything he could ever want in a partner. He supposed at one point he was like that to you. Not anymore though. He could never be like that ever again. Not when he found comfort in the arms of another. Another that wasn’t you.

Akaashi knew it was wrong. Wholeheartedly he wanted to free you of the unforgivable. Did he take advantage of your sweet behaviour? Deep down inside, he knew he was. The cheap thrill of loving somebody else while you waited patiently for him back at home. Back at the home the both of you had made together. The home that he had inadvertently tainted with the presence of another.

This is the last time.

How many times would he tell himself that? That the momentary pleasure he got from her was just that. That he’d stop before it went too far.

Over a year later was already beyond what was classified as ‘too far’.

He couldn’t kid himself into thinking it was just a brief lapse in judgement anymore. Not when he didn’t stop. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you in the slightest. How could he do that? To the one he promised to love. The one to always be there for you, care for you. To do everything a good boyfriend should do.

To never, ever be the reason for your tears.

He knew he didn’t have the right to feel this way. It was selfish. Completely and utterly selfish. But when he’d come home and find you there waiting for him, while he was whispering sweet nothings, words that should’ve only been reserved for you, to somebody else just minutes prior, he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache. Akaashi, ever so observant, noticed that you stopped faking your smile. He remembers the first time he saw it.

5 months after his unfaithfulness began, something he swore that’d happen just once, he saw the look on your face. The warm smile you had greeted him with just earlier that morning before he left, was now gone. This smile wasn’t as bright, and the shine didn’t reach your eyes. He didn’t like this smile. It was beautiful of course, because it was from you, but he didn’t like how fake it was. You had given him some half-assed excuse.

“I’m just a little tired Keiji”

He knew you too well. Knew you were lying to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to press on further. Day after day, your smile continued to drop. Further and further, until it was some terrible imitation of the one he had fallen in love with years ago. No matter how much you tried to hide it, he would always notice the slight redness in the whites of your eyes. Dark and puffy under-eyes that you tried desperately to conceal. The tone of your voice, no longer lively and cheerful. He supposed after a year, you just didn’t want to pretend to be okay anymore.

This will be the last time.

He’d break it off with you. His silent promises to spare you from anymore pain. The guilt ate away at him, feeling the nausea rise in his stomach. You deserved someone better than him, someone who would treat you the way you should be treated. He used to be that guy. Where did that man go? What happened to him? He supposed he didn’t have the right to be that person anymore.

He was always so tense thinking on what to say to you. On how to finally admit his wrongdoings. Whether you knew of his actions behind your back, finally voicing them out would be the nail in the coffin. The confirmation that he was indeed doing the things that you were suspecting him of. Perhaps thats why you could never ask or actually push forward with it.

Because even if you knew, with great certainty, you could deceive yourself into thinking he was still the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Akaashi only received a fleeting moment of peace from his thoughts of you when she was around. He absolutely despised it. It was despicable how he could find a sense of safety in her arms. It should’ve been you, only you. It was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong, and yet he couldn’t help but think it felt right. It was wicked and evil, there was no other way to put it. Her hands. Her kisses. Her touch. All the moments with her made him forget about you, if only for a brief period. The gentle feel and traces of her were like invisible tattoos, covering all the places you had marked, kissed and touched.

It was all just too intoxicating for him. From her silky smooth hair to the softness of her skin. However, when he ran his fingers all over her body, he couldn’t help but think of you. God he was pathetic. So, so badly he knew it was wrong. He already had you, had your love, had everything you had to give. So why would he run for comfort to her, only to end up wishing it was you instead? It didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t understand it at all.

“Keiji, why don’t you stay the night?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry”

“It can’t keep going on like this. You guys should break up. Then you wouldn’t have to keep going back there, and then you can finally stay here with me. Isn’t that what you want?”

No, it wasn’t. It was probably the reason why he’d never stay over with her. Because he always wanted to come home to you. If he didn’t want to stay with her, if he didn’t sleep in the same bed with her, if he didn’t want to hold her hand - everything he wanted to do with you - why did he still do it? Why! Why! Why! It constantly plagued his mind. He was just selfish.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

And so, Akaashi sat in his car, with his grip on the steering wheel, thinking of the words to say. He knew he needed to be delicate, but firm. To the point, but not blunt. ‘This will be the last time’, he says to himself. The last time he thinks of the words to say. The last time he sits in his car contemplating about everything. The last time he has to hurt you. He’ll let you go, let you cry, even let you throw any object in reach to let out your frustrations on him. Just as long as he didn’t have to hurt you anymore. With a shaky breath, he unlocks the car door and steadies himself. He makes his way to house you both shared, hand on the handle as he closes his eyes. It’s time to face the music.

He quietly opens and closes the door behind him, setting his belongings on the dark oak table sat next to the door. He hears you in the kitchen, your feet padding around on the tiled floor. He makes his way there and freezes. You’re slaving away in a large t-shirt and shorts just a bit too big for you. They’re his without a doubt. You hear his shoes clicking against the floor and turn around to face him.

“Welcome home Keiji”

He hated that the gleam in your eyes was gone, and that your lips had to form a smile way too forced. He hated what he had done to you.

“I’m making your favourite, it should be ready in about 10 minutes”

With that, Akaashi loses all composure. He steps forward, his long legs carrying himself towards the stove top, situating himself behind you. He reaches around to turn it off, and moves the pot to the next hotplate. You turn around to question him, only to end up surprised at how close he was. You’re flustered, and he can easily tell how nervous you are at the way your eyes dart at anywhere else but him.

The temperatures rising in your body, and you swear that Akaashi can feel it steaming out of you. He closes the distance quickly, and soon enough your tongues are fighting for dominance against each other. He was in such bliss, it was like your lips were moulded to be with his. In moments like this he could forget. When your touch covered the traces of her. When your taste overwhelmed hers. He wanted you imprinted on him again. But he knew, knew that soon enough, he’d wash it away with his mistress. A continuous cycle of you and her. Disgustingly selfish.

This will be the last time.

The last time he takes your hand. The last time he has the pleasure of kissing you. The last time he undresses you. He takes his time, drinking in your form under the moonlight. Not even the darkness could overshadow your light. He knows you do the same, your eyes focused on him now. You push him forward so he falls back on the plush mattress. Why would he ever think about anyone else? He knew this had to be the last. The last time he’d let his eyes fall over you. He needed to save these moments in his head so he’d never forget.

The last luxury he’d have of you.

So he’d soak it all in, ingrain it forever. He needed to remember it vividly so he could look back. Look back at the idiot he was for ever hurting you in this way. He didn’t deserve you in the slightest. He thought that if he could capture every last detail, it could be the least of his karma. To miss what he took for granted.

How many times had he thought that himself?

And at the end of it all, he’ll just lay there. In the bittersweet afterglow of the love you two had shared. He’ll close his eyes and prepare himself to lose it all. Lose you. You think he’s asleep as he’s so still and his breathing so even. You’ll comb your fingers through his hair, just like you always do, and mumble quietly about your devotion to him.

“I love you, so much Keiji”

You pray he doesn’t hear you, but he does. As clear as day, you whisper confessions of love and admiration for him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. Not in the slightest, not at all.

But the gentle kiss you place on his lips has him reeling, and his resolve cracks. He can’t do it, because he’s just that selfish. He knows that in the end, it won’t be the last time. He’ll go through it all again. The guilt will eat him alive. The feel of bile on the tip of his tongue no longer phasing him - he’s gotten used to the taste. He’ll break your trust, again and again, and then carelessly attempt to put the pieces back together, just to shatter them more. It’s cruel, he knows this. He wishes you’d just insult him. Cuss him out. Do anything, but show him love over and over. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows how horrific it is to do this to somebody you claim to love. He just wants you to hurt him, tell him what a disgusting asshole he is, how he’s a piece of shit, a waste of space. Any and everything you can think of.

But you don’t.

And while you continue to show him affection, he’ll drown in the abyss of despair that he, himself put him in. Because during these moments he could pretend that you actually loved him. That you didn’t know of his cheating ways. That he wasn’t touching you with the same hands that held someone else.

So tomorrow it’ll all start over, and the cycle will continue. He’ll keep on breaking your heart, and you’ll both pretend to be okay with it. No matter how many times he told himself it would be the last.

He hoped that one day he wouldn’t be such a coward. That he would finally cut the strings that tied you both together and just end it. Akaashi knew it was wrong, but he was just that selfish and hypocritical.

extra: IM SORRY! i know this probably wasn’t the part 2 that was wanted but 🤟😭 i couldn’t help myself! pls give any akaashi merch hugs and kithes 🥺🥺 my friend told me this mad him mad at him (i was going for sad, so im sorry if you get angry 😭) 💕✨ tysm if you read it 💝

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #akaashi angst #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #haikyuu angst #hq angst

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fireemblems24 · 3 years

Text

Dimitri's Supports

I have waited FOREVER for this. Let's go. And I decided to put my patience to the test, saving Dedue for last.

Since it's Dimitri and I love him, and like Dedue who I also love, he's the only one unlocking all his A-Supports, I'm going to blog all my reactions to them like I did with Dedue. Part of me wishes I thought of this for the other characters, but honestly it would've taken forever lol. Plus Dimitri and Dedue get special treatment because I said so.

Raphael

Starting off with something light hearted, I hope. I do wonder if I'm going to regret not saving this one for the inevitably heavy-handed stuff coming later.

I'm seriously betting this is a support you're supposed to get in part 1 lol. Dimitri sounds young (or maybe I'm just haven't heard non-growl part 2 Dimitri enough yet?)

Dimitri's training made Raphael think he was dying lol. Dimitri's strength is really meme tier.

I need fanart of Dimitri and Chrom co-miserating their mishandled strength breaking something. And Lucina.

Lamo, Raphael has never felt a cramp before. Lucky bastard.

Raphael is a sweetie, going to apologize to his muscles. I really wish they gave him something else to talk about other than muscles and food. Not everyone needs Dimitri tier development, but I think I'd like Raphael a lot more if he just got a smidge more depth.

Got to say, it's a bit jarring to go from "moments away from a suicide charge in the rain" to "lol, Raphael, it's muscle pain." As glad as I am that I got this support, I do think some should've been locked to part 1.

And this isn't just for Dimitri's development. I also saw Marianne and Raphael's B before this support and she reverted back to her part 1 self too.

Catherine

Maybe it's just me, but he does sound a bit older.

OMG - Dimitri's back. 😭😭😭

Sorry, it didn't really hit in that first one since that seemed like a part 1 support.

Oh, cool! I was wondering if anyone would bring up Catherine returning to Faerghus. My bets is she's too loyal to Rhea. (I guessed right)

Catherine be simpin. That's ok, I get it.

So it's not because Catherine dislikes Dimitri, or that she's absolutely needed to rule House Charon, so I think Dimitri just likes her. She's cool though. I get it.

Lamo, she told him he'd better get his sleep like he's a kid.

Curious how the A+ support will play out.

Mercedes

Team Mom's support!

Oh, no, this one's taking a serious turn isn't it? But their initial supports were so light and cute.

Mercedes just told Dimitri that he's kind to a fault. Somehow I know he's going to deny that.

Annnnnd I'm right 😭😭😭He's still calling himself a killer and disgusting monster 😭😭😭

OK - so THIS seems perfectly in tone with his recent character development. But it's so sad hearing him still talk about himself that way.

Mercedes is such a therapist. I can't. She's too pure. But savage. I saw that Lorenz support.

"I am scared . . . so scared that I will forget their faces." 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Dimitri why????

Mercedes telling Dimitri to live in the present. Her supports are always so good. I legit think she's easily a top 10 favorite in this game.

Wow, Dimitri saying if someone told him that 5 years ago, he'd be different. DID NO ONE EVER GIVE HIM ANY HELP AT ALL???

I love how she's talking to him as a classmate, and equal, and not talking up to him. He's always wanted that.

Dimitri's never given his own dreams any thought 😭😭😭He really was just 100% living for other people most of the time. 😭😭😭

Awww MERCEDES, I can't. She says she just wants to keep being his friend. This is so damn sweet. And heavy. But still sweet.

It just hits super hard knowing how badly Dimitri just wanted friends in part 1. And looking back, Mercedes and Sylvain were really the only two who were pretty casual with him.

Aww, yeah, Mercedes not putting up with the bullshit, Dimitri. Telling him to quit the self-deprecation! God, I love her.

Oh, God, they both said the old FE code for "we're married" i.e. I want to "stay by your side."

Ok, @garlandgerard, I totally get why you ship this. Mercedes loves to nurture people, and Dimitri's emotionally needy, so they match pretty well. She also didn't put up with the constant self-put-downs, but stayed gentle about it. And they talked like equals too, like friends, which is what Dimitri always wanted. It's all very sweet.

Annette

Yeah, see, this one starts off with "your highness," but Mercedes it was just Dimitri. No hate for Annette. She's my girl.

These two always give me sibling vibes.

Haha, Annette "I thought I already knew you, but I'm not sure I really do." Hmmmm wonder what Dimitri did that made her think that maybe there's parts of him she didn't know. No. idea.

Hey, Annette, no one blames you for not knowing what to say to Dimitri when they reunited lol.

Annette too pure too, wanting to cheer Dimitri up with his favorite food.

Her not knowing what he likes to eat is 100% that moment when you realize you don't know someone's favorite color.

HOW can Dimitri have no strong feelings about food. I'm having pizza right now. Let me tell you, I have strong feelings about some food.

I love how easily Dimitri deflected from talking about himself lol.

Awwww, Annette wants to live with her family again. I'll make that happen, Annette. Don't worry.

Haha, they're conspiring together behind Gilbert's back.

They still have an A+ support, which is weird, because that seemed pretty well ended? Like I see why Catherine's needed more, but not this one. Still, not going to say no. I like their dynamic.

Ingrid

OCF they're training. God I love all the Faerghus childhood group though.

Oh, fuck, here comes Glenn again. My heart's not ready for this with Rodrigue dead. Poor Felix.

Ingrid being Dimitri's knight 😊😊😊 as it should be.

Haha, Dimitri asks her for an interpretation. Just make her your knight.

Glad he hasn't started saying "I'm not worthy!" Because right now it's about Ingrid's feelings.

Wow, there, Ingrid. "However you please, Your Highness." That . . . that sounds like an invitation. To "staying by your side."

Dimitri laughed. 😊😊😊

Oh, God, this is so cute. His pause asking her to support and defend him as his knight. 😊😊😊 OMG. I'm not sure that's all she had in mind though, good Sir, have you LOOKED in the mirror?

Seriously though, Ingrid's just surrounded by studs, isn't she?

Oh, God, I'm right. She didn't just mean knight. But Dimitri's too dense in that area to notice. She crushing hard. Girl, I get you.

She blushing, saying "for the Kingdom," naw, she just like him. Me too, Ingrid. Me too.

Dimitri always makes people promise not to die on him. It's so sad considering . . .

Flayn

With Flayn it's always a toss up. Sometimes things are super light hearted, and other times it's way heavy.

On a random note, does no one wonder why Flayn hasn't aged a day in 5 years?

Flayn having nightmares. Not allowed. I bet it's fucking Jeritza's fault. I'm glad you get to rip him a new one so many times in this game.

Why is Flayn apologizing?? She's never done a thing wrong in her life.

Right, Flayn's other support with Dimitri was pretty heavy. And it started so funny with him stomaching her food.

Oh, good grief, what's he apologizing for? Ok - so Dimitri did do some things wrong. But not to Flayn.

He lied. Let me guess. Her food actually sucks.

Aw, got it. He went right to the meal. Is he really going to come out and say, well it actually sucked 😂

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE MEALS???? AND THE TEA an embarrassing amount of tea.

Wait. He can't taste ANYTHING??? Like. How? Did he hide that????

Ok - I need to look at his team and dining dialogue.

OMG. He really never says a word about how anything tastes? He always just talks about smells????

OMG. How did I NOT NOTICE. I've taken Dimitri to dinner a million times. And tea timed him too many times to admit too.

AND I NEVER NOTICED HE NEVER ONCE SAID HOW ANYTHING TASTED. HOW.

OMG that support with Annette hits different now 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OMG and Dedue's support with Flayn hits different now. Since he wanted to badly to find food Dimitri loves 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Does Dedue know? Is that why he's so dedicated to cooking??

Can I headcannon that?

OMG, I feel so awful about that jab about pizza. Dimitri CAN'T TASTE pizza or anything 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Please someone tell me there isn't any more "this awful thing also happened to Dimitri and he's failed to tell you" like learning he almost fucking died at Duscur. And now this. Dimitri needs to learn how to fucking complain.

The writers are so fucking mean to Dimitri. OMG. OMG, how am I supposed to take him to dinner and tea now, knowing this?

Why does everything hit so differently now? And so many Blue Lions supports are about food - but Dimitri can't relate

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

This game needs to stop bullying Dimitri.

But like, God, can you imagine? Not tasting anything? I'd starve. I'd actually starve. I never really get hungry. I really would starve.

On the flip side, he's good for Flayn then, since someone can eat her cooking I guess.

"I was just saying what I thought you would want to hear . . ." Dimitri - a summary.

Naw, that's a kind lie. That kind of lie doesn't really hurt anyone.

Oh - dear God. Flayn. Stop. No sampling pungent food.

Oh, she blushing. Dimitri got her blushing

Please tell me in their paired ending Dimitri gets his taste back.

Oh, there's an A+, does he taste something. Please tell me he tastes something.

This support though. It wasn't really one on my radar but

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Gilbert

Oh, man, this one right after Flayn's. God, I'm going to need the Alois one after this. Gilbert and Dimitri are two of the most somber characters in the franchise.

And I haven't forgotten that heartbreaking B support.

Haha Lambert sucked at lying too. Dimitri too pure. Weirdly, despite everything, it's still pretty true.

Oh, shit, oh shit, we're back to Dimitri's demand that Gilbert kill him. I'm betting you usually get that in part 2.

God, imagine seeing Dimitri recover only to see him beg for death again 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I need alcohol.

I need the Alois support.

OMG, shit, Dimitri. No. Don't. Stop.

Like, I know Gilbert won't really kill him, but damn. This support is heavy.

No, Dimitri, no Gilbert is not cruel for not killing you. God.

Oh, not sure about this. I get what Gilbert's going at here, but telling Dimitri that he's not allowed to die because he's got a duty is . . . I think Rodrigue's and Mercedes' live for what you want/the present is a LOT healthier.

At the same time, this is a pretty effective way to make sure Dimitri won't go and try this again, because he really takes duty seriously.

Dimitri doesn't wish to die? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, thank God.

"Many times I have felt that I cannot afford to die . . . But this was the first time I truly feared the prospect." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Is it really right for me to live?" Oh, dear God. I'm so soft for Dimitri. I can't.

Gilbert answered that one right. 100%.

Damn, these supports.

Alois

OK. I need this one. I really need this one.

I really hope Alois' inspiration is bad puns. I need bad puns right now.

Pretty sure this is a part 1 support though. I love how Alois, not Dimitri, is leading this. And that the person the Kingdom NEEDS is running around and getting attacked by monsters lol

Ok, bad puns. Bring them.

There we go. Thank you, thank you, Alois.

OMG no one's laughing 😂😂😂

Dimitri's laughing 😭😭😭😭😭😭

That's it. This is always getting saved for part 2. I need to hear part 2 Dimitri laugh.

I'm also so glad someone finds Alois funny. Dimitri and Petra need to start a club.

OMG I love the two other confused soldiers. I needed this 😂😂😂

Marianne

These two were so sweet in their C and B supports.

I swear I'm going to end up shipping Dimitri with everyone. Except maybe Annette, no hate, they just seem so much like brother and sister to me.

And Felix x Annette 100%

Survivor's Guilt - the pairing. Both wondering why they survived 😭😭😭

"There are so many others who are much more deserving of life . . ." - who said it? Marianne or Dimitri?

These two just understand how each other feels so well. It hits so different compared to Marianne's other romantic possible supports where they just try to make her smile.

Instead these two take comfort in finding someone who understands how they feel so well and feel relieved they can share that with someone.

Haha - "I must go on living. I cannot give in to death so readily." This coming right after his support with Gilbert. Good job, Gilbert.

They've both had it so rough 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"There is no need to force yourself to smile as your soul bleeds." Dimitri always gives such good advice that he never follows.

Aww, now at least it's getting cute instead of just heavy. Marianne laughed too 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Yesss, Girl, preach. I got a little sick of her other supports all being "cheer up!" Like I know it's all in good faith, but I'm so glad this chain exists. It just hits different.

Dimitri doesn't think he's strong enough to live his life. 😭😭😭 this game. I swear.

ohhhh - ohhh, Dimitri blushing now. And all she needed to say was they've been brought closer together. Congrats Marianne!

OHHHH tables have been turned. Now someone's making Dimitri promise he needs to live!

"I don't know what I'd do with myself if we lost you . . ."

"I promise to the goddess of Fodlan that I will never give you cause for despair."

OMG these two are being so sweet, I can't. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

Felix

Oh, boy, here we go. This should be . . . interesting.

Oh, we're starting off good I see. Felix telling Dimitri he needs to answer quickly or get cut in half 😔Felix. No.

Dimitri sounds so somber 😭

Dimitri admitting both are him - the vengeful "boar" and the friendly good person. And this is why I love him.

Dimitri feels the need to shoulder all the regret the dead feel, please don't. They wouldn't want that 😭😭😭😭😭

"The dead won't acknowledge your loyalty, they don't care." - Felix not wrong there.

I partly agree with the idea Dimitri is "serving his own ego" by claiming he's acting for the dead. I think it's a bit more complicated than that, but I think that's part of it.

Felix saying some good stuff here about the dead being dead and the living being living.

"If you keep stringing gravestones around your neck, you'll snap." - Felix, I don't know if you noticed but . . . uh . . . he sort of did.

Felix telling Dimitri to become a grave keeper is a bit funny. Not going to lie.

"I'm not immune to emotion you know." - just tsunderes things

Aw, Felix is upset his father died 😭😭 after all that shit-talking about Rodrigue 😭😭

Wish Felix didn't cut Dimitri off when he said "more than anyone you-" (care about other people, unless he joins CF and just kills everyone)

Oh, God, Felix is such a tsundere. "I couldn't stand the pathetic look on your face. That's all." Sure, Felix.

Kinda wish these two had an A+ though. Seems like there's more to do than the A+ with Annette and Flayn.

Really curious to see what their paired ending is like after that. Seems they're still learning to learn about each other. Well, Felix is. Dimitri didn't seem too upset lol.

Dedue

Ok guys. Here we go. I can't believe I managed to wait for this for last. Everyone hyped this one, so let's hope.

Really? We open with Dimitri having scars on his back? 😭

From 9 years ago? So scars from Duscur then?

Images of shirtless Dimitri now. though Not bad images.

He got scars protecting Dedue?

"It makes me think that is was worthwhile that someone like me survived." 😭😭😭 he's talking about protecting Dedue? 😭😭😭

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"But I saved someone - saved you. That and that alone has been my crutch." 😭😭😭😭😭

I always knew these two were co-dependent.

Dimitri really out here saying that saving Dedue helped him "justify" surviving. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

OMG THAT'S THEIR STORY

OMG, poor Dedue. And Dimitri 😭😭😭did he literally "take a bullet" to save Dedue 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and still has scars? No wonder Dedue's so loyal. Some kid he didn't know did that. That's one hell of an introduction.

And picturing little Dedue just resigned and angry and waiting to die and just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, Dedue, you've repaid that debt ten-fold I'm sure.

Ahaha, Dimitri's doing the "you'd better accept your worth!" discussion this time lol.

Dear God these two. Now Dimitri's bringing up that Dedue busted him out of the jail.

I swear, these two have more of a plot off screen than some routes do on screen.

And now picturing Dimitri resigned and just ready to die. And then Dedue busts in. 😭😭😭

"That was nothing more than my duty as your vassal." Stop that Dedue. Dimitri doesn't want you to be his vassal. He wants more.

Holy shit.

"You are irreplaceable. Cherished." 😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊

Not to be that person - but I tell all my "friends" that.

Yes, Dedue, stop saying insisting you're just a "vassal" - that's a worse joke than Alois' puns from earlier.

"Please . . . do not look at me that way." What way, like you're about to make Dimitri cry, or like . . .

"You promised me you would build a Kingdom that is proud to boast of Duscur blood." - shit, man, these two. I just . . .

OMG so much emotion from Dedue. The only time I ever heard that before was in VW when he learned Dimitri died. But let's not remember that right now 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh shit. He called him "Dimitri." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

And it made him blush.

OMG.

Guys, these two.

Aww, Dimitri looks so surprised. 😊😊😊😊😊😊

Oh, these two are so soft for each other. I can't. I just can't.

"To be your friend . . . is what I have always wanted." You're going to get it.

Man, I feel almost guilty S-Supporting Dimitri. He needs to pair up with Dedue pronto.

Dimitri sounds chocked up. OMG.

"So please call upon me when you walk alone at night." Ok. Dedue. Ok. Yes. Guys. This is all very straight.

I'm not saying it's - you know - cannon, but there's some big feels here.

Oh, Dimitri, stop it. You like Dedue's overprotectiveness. Don't lie.

Man, you guys were so right. Dimitri really just came out and said Dedue was "cherished" and "irreplaceable." Like, I'm not making this stuff up. And Dedue blushing hardcore just saying Dimitri's name.

They're both just so soft. I can't. I literally cannot. This support was gold. It was worth all they hype.

And learning more about how they meant. Dimitri really taking a bullet for Dedue there. I just . . .

I just want all the happiness for both of them. They're really something special towards each other. Like I legitimately think this is one of the most two-way loyal relationships in the whole franchise, and definitely the tightest bond in this game.

Like in past games you had Seth for Ephraim and Erikia and Soren for Ike and it's not like Ike, Ephraim and Erikia and etc don't care, but it wasn't the same level, you know? But this is such a two way street.

And I'm so weak for bodyguard with a crush. Like Seth/Eirika? Yes. Geoffrey/Elincia? 100%. Riza/Roy (Fullmetal Alchemist) there again. I'm sure there's more, but those are my top ones. Even Merlin/Arthur sort of counts even if Arthur doesn't know Merlin's his bodyguard lol.

I need to read fanfic for these two. I really don't want to spoil anything, but I'm dying. They're both just so sweet, and I just really love their dynamic. I really want to do a write up on it once I get to the end of the game.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #fe3h #fe16

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autisticcassandracain · 3 years

Note

🔥 kori

dickkory sucks but not for any of the reasons dickkory haters say it sucks. most dickkory hate is literally just ppl hating on kori disguised as a 'personal opinion' on ships and usually those opinions make it extremely obvious that they never bothered to like, actually read The New Teen Titans lmao. 'dickkory was mostly sexual' is especially a terrible take because not only is it blatantly untrue, it's also based in the slut-shaming Kori has received over the years for being sexually open, and the mischaracterization she's received bc people saw an opportunity to reduce a female character to a sex object with a thin veil of plausible deniability in the form of 'characterization' and took it.

Most arguments against dickkory I've seen focus on the idea that Kori didn't offer Dick much, which is HILARIOUS because you have a MUCH better argument for the reverse, which is exactly what I will now proceed to argue.

got long, is under the cut, you know the drill. TL;DR Kori and Dick's relationship was badly built up, Kori provides more emotional support for Dick than Dick provides for Kori, Kori was more important to Dick's development than Dick was to Kori, and I don't think it's ever even been stated why Kori likes Dick.

Also donnakory was built up way better than dickkory and I'd argue Donna has had more of an influence on Kori than Dick ever did. That last one isn't explained in-depth it's just important to me that you know this.

Dick and Kori barely interacted prior to getting together, and yet we were supposed to believe this narrative that Dick was definitely in love with Kori and just couldn't admit it. I literally did a double take the first time Kori mused to herself about being confused Dick 'wouldn't admit to being in love with her' like I'm sorry WHEN did that get established??? I'm too aro for 'love at first sight' bullshit you have to actually make them interact or I won't buy it. This lack of build-up was my first problem with dickkory, but I was willing to ignore it if the actual relationship appealed to me.

It didn't. Dick and Kori's relationship is marked by a pattern of what, to me, is incompatibility. Dick is the type of person who, when stresses, lashes out at others and pushes them away. He's seen doing this multiple times to Kori in The New Teen Titans, most notably shortly after they got together when he was stressed due to having too much on his plate, and in the Return to Tamaran/Karras/Marriage arc. Kori consistently reacts to this behavior by blaming herself for it. The first time, she comes to Donna to ask her if she's done anything wrong, after which Donna reassures her that Dick's just Like That, and Kori resolves to be as supportive as she can.

The second time bothers me much more; on Tamaran, Dick is so mean to her she ends up having a full-on breakdown, which she first seeks support for from Joey, but later, she just stays depressed until she can return to Earth. While Dick's behaviour was influenced by his brainwashing, we never get confirmation of how much of it was influenced, and on top of that, the comic repeatedly and consistently frames Kori as having 'hurt Dick' during this arc afterwards, making her say this repeatedly, while never refuting it or addressing the ways Dick has harmed Kori during this arc.

While Dick did man up and apologize in both circumstances (I think the second apology was lacking, but the first was quite good), it still established a pattern that I find uncomfortable. Dick is rude to Kori, Kori takes it personally and wonders what she's done wrong, Kori tries to talk it out with Dick, Dick snaps at her and pushes her away, but eventually realizes he's been mean and apologizes. What bothers me the most in this pattern is the part where Kori consistently blames herself for Dick's behaviour, and assumes she's done something wrong to make him behave this way. Every time this came up in the comics, it made me deeply uncomfortable, because I've seen enough real-life relationships with a very similar dynamic to this that were deeply unhealthy to make this set off all my alarm bells.

I want to stress that I don't think dickkory is actually unhealthy in canon, but it reminds me of enough unhealthy relationships I've known for me to be personally uncomfortable with it.

That's not the only part that reminds me of those relationships: I feel like Dick is getting way more out of this relationship than Kori. Kori is consistently shown to support Dick when he goes through tough situations, even when Dick responds by trying to push her away or being rude to her. Similarly, Dick has stated that Kori was the one who helped him open up about his emotions, and has had a tremendous positive effect on his character development as a result; he even goes so far as to name her one of the elements of his Nightwing identity. Kori pushes Dick to explore new areas of himself, and supports him when he has problems.

Dick, by contrast.... doesn't really do this with Kori. When Kori needed support, Dick was consistently either absent or actually rude to her. Again, this is most prominent during the Karras arc; during a time when Kori desperately needed someone to support her, Dick was only concerned with his own hurt feelings. And again, yes, he was brainwashed during this, but again, we never actually got confirmation on how much of this behaviour was due to brainwashing, and much of the writing afterwards framed Kori was the one in the wrong here, so my point stands. This was the singular most important moment Kori needed support, and Dick blew it, and the narrative basically let him off the hook for it.

The only time I can think of when Dick supported Kori in non-battle related situations was right after the Wildebeest arc in New Titans, but that was also the start of Kori's character massacre for the break up arc, so I don't exactly have fond memories of that. I'm sure there's been more minor moments where he's supported her that I'm forgetting, but I shouldn't have to have this much trouble coming up with times Dick has emotionally supported Kori.

Furthermore, Dick hasn't had a similar effect on Kori's character development to Kori's effect on Dick. While Kori did develop while she was with Dick, this wasn't really due to Dick. Her short-lived change of heart about the morality of murder was due to her personal experiences, and while Dick probably aided in this decision, so did Donna and even the rest of the Titans. It was not something that was uniquely Dick, the way Dick opening up about his emotions was uniquely Kori. Her distancing herself from Tamaran and embracing Earth was also not uniquely Dick, and was in fact a realization that mostly took place in his absence. Other parts of her character development follow this pattern.

I'm not saying Dick has had no effect on Kori's character progression, but he wasn't instrumental in it the way Kori was instrumental in his. Kori's character would've likely progressed in an extremely similar fashion even without him, and I can't say the same for Dick. If anyone influenced Kori's development in a similar way Dick influenced Kori's, it was Donna, who was the one to introduce her to Earth culture, supported her through various tough times and insecurities, helped her find a job (albeit it on accident) and frequently worked with her later, etc. etc. And even then, I don't think Donna's effect on Kori was quite as dramatic as Kori's effect on Dick.

The final nail in the coffin for any interest I may have had in dickkory is the fact that I, honest to god, have no idea why Kori likes Dick. I don't. Dick has several internal monologues about how much he loves Kori for her passion, her drive, her openness, and the way she pushes him to explore new parts of himself and open up, but Kori... doesn't really do the same for Dick. I can make guesses as to why I think Kori likes Dick, even fairly educated ones (I think Kori likes Dick at least in part because his intellectual approach to life is new and interesting to her, for example), but they've never stated it explicitly the way they've stated what Kori likes about Dick. And for a series that'll state practically everything explicitly if it can, up to and including what's happening on the panel right now, this is very weird to me.

Any of these problems, isolated, I could've gotten past; even a two of these problems I could've probably ignored. Three would've been pushing it, but all of them? No chance. Any good will I had towards the relationship was buried with the Karras arc, and then shot in the head for good measure when they continuously talked about it as if Kori was the one at fault there.

All of these problems combined make it very clear to me that Kori was not the primary concern in this relationship. Kori was invented as a love interest for Dick, and it shows. This entire relationship is about what it does for Dick, how it helps Dick. The only thing Kori gets out of it, at least to me, is the happiness she gets from being in love, and frankly, she could get that with literally any other character.

The fact that people keep reducing her character to this relationship also infuriates me and makes me even less inclined to like it, especially when they can't even bother to remember Kori was the one who broke up with Dick and instead treat Kori as the one who was left heartbroken and has never gotten over it, while Dick gets to move on with his life and other love interests.

I think this relationship had potential; I think their contrasting personalities could've made for an interesting relationship, and I've enjoyed some isolated moments and fandom portrayals of them before. But after reading The New Teen Titans, I just do not understand why so many Kori fans like this relationship so much. I went into the series neutral on the relationship but hopeful about being won over, to straight-up hating it.

Also that one time they used a relationship between a man who was about to shoot his wife for cheating on him as a direct and obvious parallel to dickkory was SO GODDAMN AWFUL. why the hell did they think that was a good idea. why.

#my posts #koriand'r #dick grayson #anti-dickkory

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gretavanfanfic · 4 years

Text

Noisy Neighbor

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x (F) Reader

Warnings: Smut! 18+ only

Word Count: 5000ish

Summary: The walls in your apartment are a bit thin and Neighbor!Josh likes to make noise.

You can’t deny that you have a bit of a crush on your neighbor, Josh. From the day he moved into the apartment next to yours, you were immediately attracted to his looks. And then, a few weeks later, he introduced himself to you in the hallway and you found out that he’s actually the sweetest person in the world. Your attraction intensified tenfold. Now, every time you enter or leave your apartment, you can’t stop yourself from hoping that you’ll run into him in the halls.

Though you’ve only spoken to Josh on a handful of occasions, you feel as though you know him on an intimate level due to the paper thin walls of your home. You’ve concluded that your living rooms must share a wall, because you can hear absolutely everything Josh does in the main room of your suite. You weren’t surprised when you discovered this though, considering the low price you pay for rent each month. What did surprise you was that you found it didn’t annoy you in the slightest. Josh makes quite a bit of noise, but honestly, you very much enjoy the chaos that regularly flows out of his apartment.

You hate to admit it, because you know it’s creepy, but sometimes you intentionally eavesdrop on the goings-on in Josh’s apartment. A lot of the time, it’s more entertaining than anything you could watch on TV. Josh has 3 friends (or maybe brothers, they look like they may be related) that visit so often, you frequently wonder why they all didn’t just move in together. When they’re over, the shouting and laughter is constant, and you get a major kick out of listening to their stories and antics. And then there’s Josh’s singing. Whenever he’s home alone, you can hear his angelic voice belting out song after song, some that you recognize and others that you don’t. His voice is so gorgeous, you’re sure he could sing the phone book and make it sound amazing. Why would you listen to music on your speakers when you have a front row seat to Josh’s beautiful live performances? You feel a bit guilty for your snooping, but you figure it’s harmless. If Josh didn’t want anyone to hear him, he’d quiet down.

This particular evening, though, your eavesdropping doesn’t seem quite as harmless as usual. You’re not deliberately spying on Josh. At first. You’re just settling in for a night of Chinese takeout and Netflix when a noise through the wall catches your attention. A...sexy noise. It isn’t loud, definitely more quiet than most of the sounds coming from Josh’s unit, but you hear it nonetheless. Curious, you turn the volume on the TV down and lean closer to the wall behind your couch, waiting to hear if it happens again.

A few moments later and there it is once more, an unmistakable moan. Just that small sound makes your entire body feel hot, and you press your ear even closer to the wall. Is he doing what I think he’s doing? You can’t hear anything else that would give you any more hints, but why else would he be letting out little moans here and there? The image of Josh touching himself causes wetness to build between your thighs.

Then you’re struck by another thought, one that lessens your desire slightly. What if he’s with someone? If you’re being honest with yourself, you would probably be devastated if that was the case. Though you wouldn’t even really consider Josh a friend, you’ve held out on the hope that maybe something would happen between the two of you someday. You never thought that he may have a girlfriend, or even about him sleeping with other girls.

You begin to feel dejected, until you realize that you’re getting ahead of yourself. You’ve been home for hours, and not once did you hear Josh’s front door open or close. You also hadn’t heard him talk to anyone during the day. He had been singing for a bit earlier, and his TV was on briefly, but that was it. If a girl had been there, you’re sure you would have heard her at some point. And so, you allow yourself to believe that Josh is in his apartment alone, scratching his own itch.

Another low groan sounds a few moments later, and you squirm in your seat, getting wetter and wetter by the second. Invested now, you mute the TV altogether so you can hear Josh without any background static. Voyeurism is not something you engage in on a regular basis, so you can’t help feeling a little dirty listening in on his “personal time.” But you can’t make yourself turn a blind eye and resume your show on Netflix either. All you can focus on is Josh and the arousal he’s brought on.

Josh’s moans are becoming louder and more frequent now. Some are small grunts, whereas others are drawn out and higher in pitch, almost whiny. You’ve never heard anything hotter in your life, and before long, you’re practically aching for him. You want to see his body, which you’re certain is toned but not overly muscular, and run your fingertips over every inch of his skin. You yearn for him to kiss you, so you can glide your tongue over his luscious lips and feel the vibration of his groans in your mouth. More than anything, you want to fuck him. Feel the pleasant stretch as he thrusts into you over and over, filling you up and satisfying your needs.

Unable to stop yourself, your right hand travels past the waistband of your leggings and into your underwear. Using your middle finger, you gather some of your wetness and drag it up to your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive nerve. Your eyes fall shut at the feeling it elicits.

This isn’t the first time you’ve thought of Josh while getting yourself off. He’s been a staple in your fantasies ever since the day he introduced himself. Pretending it’s Josh and not your vibrator working you to orgasm makes the whole process go much more quickly. The toy has seen a significant increase in action since he moved in.

Listening to Josh masturbating on just the other side of the wall has you hot enough that you don’t even need your favorite toy right now. You’ve just barely started stimulating your clit and you’re already ridiculously close to orgasm. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears and a light sweat has broken out across the back of your neck. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking out of you and into your underwear. Only a few more circles and you know you’ll be cumming harder than you have in a long time.

And then it happens. From the other side of the wall, you hear Josh’s husky voice whine, “Oh fuck, Y/N!”

Your hand stills in your pants and your jaw drops open in disbelief. Did he just say my name? You had to have heard wrong. Or maybe you were just so horny and caught up in the moment that you imagined it.

But then, there it is again.

“Y/N! Fuck, oh my god,” followed by a much louder and lower groan.

This time, there is no mistaking it. Josh Kiszka just moaned your name while he came.

Your body is absolutely rigid, with the exception of your legs, which are visibly shaking. Being so close to the edge and then abruptly stopping stimulation will do that to you.

Inhaling deeply, you attempt to center yourself and process what you just heard. Which is impossible; you’re too turned on to even have a chance of thinking rationally. The only thing going on in your mind is: Josh! Josh! Josh!

As badly as you want to just shove your hand back down your pants and finish yourself off right now, Josh’s utterance of your name has brought out a carnal desire in you that you’re positive can only be fulfilled by actual physical contact with him. And you can’t wait for it. You need it now.

So with a stroke of courage like you’ve never experienced before, you quickly get up and wash your hands in the kitchen sink, then march toward your front door and swing it open. Foregoing shoes, you walk swiftly toward the door to Josh’s apartment and rap your knuckles against the dark green wood emblazoned with the number 201.

There’s no response at first, and you’re not really surprised considering you’re calling on him right after he finished jerking himself off. So you knock again, and this time you hear him shout, “Just a second!”

As you stand outside his door, waiting for him to appear, you begin to feel butterflies in your stomach. The worries that should have popped into your head earlier are now showing themselves, and there’s a lot of them. What if he really is with a girl? What if I’m not the Y/N he’s thinking about? Why did I not change before coming over here? Is my hair a mess? Did I even put on deodorant today? What if he’s not interested?

And then the door clicks open and there stands a pink-cheeked Josh, shirtless with a pair of black sweatpants riding low on his slim hips. You can tell you’ve caught him off-guard because his eyes widen significantly when they land on you. Unable to exercise any form of self-control, you allow yourself to examine his bare torso, eyes dancing from his pecs, past his toned abdomen, to the wispy happy trail that disappears under his low-slung pants. On your way up, you ogle his muscular arms. He catches you staring, and you see the blush spread down to his chest, small red patches cropping up as he takes you in.

Clearing his throat, he says, “Y/N! Hi! Sorry, I- uh, I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”

“Yeah, that’s my bad. Sorry,” you apologize, bouncing from foot to foot. “Are- are you busy?”

You figure this is a safe way to start the conversation. Not being too straightforward, but also making it clear that you’re here for a reason and it may take up some of his time.

Josh looks even more surprised and you can hear the shock in his voice when he too loudly exclaims, “No! No, come on in.” He moves backward and opens up the door wider, allowing you to step through the frame.

The door shuts behind you, and you and Josh stand awkwardly in his entryway for a moment. Taking the opportunity to see how Josh lives, you glance around the living area and note that it looks exactly like you expected it to. With a layout identical to yours, it is messy, but not overly so, and cozy, with personal touches like photos and knick knacks spread throughout the room. Every inch is reminiscent of Josh. Then you catch sight of Josh’s phone, lying upside down on the sofa, like it was thrown down quickly when he got up to answer the door, and a dark green t-shirt crumpled into a ball on the floor.

The shirt reminds you of Josh’s current state of undress, and your eyes flick back to his half-naked frame. His body is more gorgeous than you imagined, and you long to put your hands on him. You feel almost predatory as you gawk at him and lick your lips.

Breaking the silence, Josh asks, “So what can I do for you, neighbor? Need to borrow a cup of sugar?” He grins at you, making eye contact for a moment, then glances away and rubs his palm along the back of his neck.

You let out a nervous giggle at the cliche and greedily take in the sight of his newly exposed underarm. He’s so pretty, you think to yourself.

Shaking your head, you answer, “No, um, actually I had a question for you.”

Before you make your move, you need to be absolutely certain that Josh doesn’t have a girlfriend. You would never forgive yourself for unknowingly moving in on someone else’s significant other.

“Okay,” Josh shrugs his shoulders. “Shoot,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets.

You know you’re being forward, and you know this could end up being a very uncomfortable situation, but you force yourself to question, “Are you single?”

It’s not what Josh is expecting to hear. His back straightens and his eyebrows shoot up, shock evident. He hastily recovers, however, and begins to nod rapidly. “Yeah, I am. Why do you ask?” Once the words leave his mouth, you watch as he bites his bottom lip, then soothes where he bit with his tongue. The action makes your clit throb with want.

What do you say now? “That’s great, because I want to fuck you?” Definitely not. You scour your brain for a way to casually bring up your attraction to him, beginning to lose the burst of confidence that brought you here in the first place. But then, you look up to Josh’s face to see that his eyes are black, pupils fully dilated despite being in a well-lit room. Really, the only explanation for it that you can think of is desire. And you’re sure if you were to look in a mirror right now, your pupils would be dilated as well.

At last, your hunger for him overtakes your nerves and you state, “You know, the walls here are pretty thin…”

Josh’s eyes practically bulge out of his head and you watch him nervously run a hand through his hair. He doesn’t make eye contact when he finally breathes out, “Oh.”

Feeling bold, you walk a few steps forward so that you’re almost toe to toe with Josh. He audibly sucks in a breath, taken aback by your close proximity. His eyes search your face for an explanation for your closeness, while yours eagerly examine his impeccable features. You allow yourself a moment to study his nicely shaped eyebrows, rich, chocolate eyes, nose that is perfectly sized for his face, plump, pink lips, and his skin, dotted with a small number of acne scars, but glowing nevertheless. You’re dying to reach out and touch him.

Instead, you admit, “I heard you a few minutes ago...it sounded an awful lot like you were moaning my name.”

Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you see Josh’s cheeks flush bright red. He doesn’t reply right away, just darts his eyes around the room with noticeable tension in his jaw. His hand rises up again to run through his hair, then falls to his chest where he uses his short nails to scratch across the skin there. His palm stays splayed across his chest as he focuses his stare on his feet and confesses, “Listen, I’m sorry. I know it’s weird, but I didn’t realize I was being that loud. I really hope you don’t think I’m some disgusting creep. I just- I find you really attractive and my thoughts just sort of naturally land on you when I’m je- when I’m doing that.”

Truthfully, you were not expecting Josh to readily confirm your suspicions, but you’re definitely pleased that he did not hold back. A thrill runs through your body at his words, and again, you feel a rush of wetness between your legs. Fidgeting back and forth on your feet, you unconsciously rub your thighs together.

You know that Josh witnesses the motion because he openly gawks at you and the hand on his chest abruptly falls to his side. Your eyes follow his arm, and on their way down, you notice a sizable bulge has formed in his sweatpants. A shiver runs down your spine and your heart flutters knowing he’s just as turned on as you are right now.

Ready to relieve yourself of the tension you’ve been feeling for at least 20 minutes now, you close the distance between your bodies and firmly set your palms on Josh’s chest. Not allowing him time to question your closeness, you divulge, “Actually, I thought it was pretty hot. I, uh, I wish I was able to witness it with my eyes and not just my ears. But it kind of looks like you’re ready to go again, and I know I cou-”

Josh doesn’t let you finish your sentence, placing both hands on either side of your face and crashing his lips to yours. You respond readily, tracing his full lower lip with your tongue until it parts from his top lip and allows you entrance. Busying your tongue with his, you both relax into the kiss, and he combs some hair out of your face with his fingers. Driven by pure lust, you slide your right hand down his chest, fingertips combing through the happy trail that quite frankly, makes your mouth water, then break the kiss. In a whisper, you ask, “Can I?” and gesture towards his prominent bulge. He answers with a quick nod, and you cup the tent in his pants in your palm.

Groaning into your mouth (like you hoped he would), Josh grips your ass and tugs you forward so there is no space between your bodies. Your hand is sandwiched between both of your groins, but you do your best to stroke his dick through his pants, and revel in the small sounds he emits.

Pulling away from your mouth, Josh kisses a trail over your jaw and down your throat, lightly sucking your pulse point, then soothes the area with his tongue. Meanwhile, his right hand snakes under your shirt and lingers on the skin of your waist for just a moment, before venturing higher and cupping your breast through your thin bralette. The pad of his thumb locates your nipple through the fabric and begins rubbing slow circles, causing you to inadvertently let out a small squeal.

Josh chuckles against your neck at the noise, but the laugh turns strained as you increase the pressure your hand is applying to his very hard member. In retaliation, his left hand finds its way under your top and lightly pinches your other nipple, both of them now achingly stiff and sensitive. Each time his fingertips make contact, you feel the pleasure shoot straight down to your pussy.

Craving more skin to skin contact, you suddenly take a step back and yank your shirt over your head, followed directly by your flimsy bra. Josh hungrily inspects your exposed breasts for just a minute, then drags you back into him so your naked torsos are flush against each other. Pressing his lips back to yours, your tongues again battle for dominance.

Not even a minute later, Josh begins shuffling the two of you backwards, until you find yourself in his bedroom with your legs hitting the edge of his bed. There, he encourages you onto the navy blue comforter and you scoot up so you can lie back against the soft white pillows. You’re surprised to find that his bed is neatly made, and his room is free of clutter. You kind of expected it to be a pig-sty.

Josh steals your attention again by crawling up your body and settling himself between your legs. Instead of kissing you, he attaches his lips to your collarbone, where he sucks for a second, then works his way down to the swell of your boob. His mouth closes around your nipple and sucks, causing you to breathe out a sigh of satisfaction.

You wrap your legs around his waist and buck up into him, hoping he’ll get the hint and return the favor by grinding down into you. He does, and you close your eyes and throw your head back against the pillow.

Josh switches sides and begins lavishing your other nipple with his tongue, while you find the waistband of his pants and reach inside, quickly discovering that he decided against wearing underwear today. You’re not disappointed by the easy access he’s provided to his thick cock.

Grasping it in your palm, you give his dick a few strokes, then run your thumb over the tip in circles. Josh appreciates this, as indicated by the slow, “Fuckkk,” he breathes out. You continue your motions, loving watching Josh react to your touch almost as much as the feel of his mouth on your bare skin.

When he’s had enough of torturing your nipples, Josh’s mouth descends down your torso, kissing a circle around your belly button, and continues lower until he reaches the top of your leggings. He silently asks for permission with his eyes, and when you give it to him, he slips his fingers under the waistband and slides both the pants and your (very damp) underwear down your legs. The movement forces you to let go of his cock, and you mourn the loss of contact.

You’re not upset for long, however, because, after Josh tosses your clothing to the ground, he positions himself on his stomach between your thighs, face lined up with your dripping heat. He lets out a deep groan at the sight of your exposed lower half. Teasing you, he attaches his lips to your inner thigh, kissing down it and toward your center before moving to the other side. This time, when he reaches the top of your inner thigh, he begins sucking on the skin, causing a gasp to escape your lips. He doesn’t let up until he’s left a dark purple bruise, which you’re certain will sting tomorrow and remind you of the fantasy come true that’s occurring right now.

After he’s satisfied with the hickey, Josh pushes your thighs apart so you’re spread wide open in front of him. You see a small smirk form on his lips right before he leans forward and licks a slow stripe up your slit. As soon as his tongue touches your clit, your back arches off the mattress and a quiet whimper sounds from your mouth. He grins against you at your response and repeats the gesture multiple times in quick succession. When he adds his fingers to the mix, one gently probing your entrance while his tongue’s attention stays on your clit, your hands fly to his head and clutch his curls in bliss.

He continues licking and sucking your bundle of nerves in perfect time with the thrust of his fingers until you’re panting and absolutely desperate for more. You know he’s also craving more, because he’s begun grinding his hips into the mattress in dire need of friction.

Giving his curls a small tug, you watch as he lifts his head and darts his tongue out to lick your wetness off his lips. He stares back, waiting for a queue from you on what you want next.

Once you catch your breath, you pull him up for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, then practically beg, “Josh, I really, really need you to fuck me right now. Please.”

Not wasting a second, Josh scurries off the bed and speedily removes his pants, his rigid cock springing free from its confines. You shamelessly stare as he strolls over to his nightstand and retrieves a condom, then kneels next to your body on the mattress.

It’s in this moment that it dawns on you that you’re about to sleep with the boy you’ve had a crush on for months now. The thought makes your stomach do a flip-flop in your abdomen. You allow yourself to hope that something else may bloom from this, that this isn’t the last time you’ll be naked in Josh Kiszka’s bed.

Once Josh has finished putting on the condom, he nudges his way back between your legs and leans forward so that your body is supporting most of his weight. You delight in the feel of his naked form crushing yours. Holding himself up with one hand on the mattress, he reconnects your lips and licks into your mouth, giving you the most sensual kiss yet. As he kisses you, he reaches down and grabs hold of himself, tapping your clit with the tip of his dick and making you let out a soft moan.

Lips breaking away from yours, Josh looks you directly in the eye and asks, “Are you sure?”

Appreciating his need for explicit consent, you smile at him and wind your arms around the back of his neck. Playing with the curls there, you reply, “Yes, definitely,” and pull him down so you can busy your lips on his neck.

While you’re sucking your own hickey onto his skin, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in until you can feel his balls against your ass. You mewl against his neck at the feeling of fullness and fist the comforter in your hands. He feels so good you could cry.

Once he’s fully seated in you, Josh blows out a shaky breath, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. He stays still for a moment, giving you some time to adjust to his length, before pulling out slightly and thrusting back into your heat. His rhythm is slow at first, but you don’t mind since it gives you some time to just feel him. And he appears to be enjoying himself, if his eyes being clamped shut and his mouth wide open is any indication.

When he does decide to pick up the pace, the noises your bodies make as he slips in and out of you amplify. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it hot. Looking down to where you are connected intensifies the experience even more, the sight of your slick all over his cock and in his pubic hair making you clench around him.

Josh groans at the sudden tightness and follows your line of sight. “Holy shit, you’re so wet. Oh my god,” he whimpers. Then, he drags the fingers of his right hand down your body, runs them through your wetness, and begins massaging your clit.

You’re on cloud nine, and you never want to leave. You truly didn’t know sex could be this fantastic. Josh is attending to your every need like no one else has before, and you’re beyond happy that you made the decision to knock on his door.

His pace picks up even more and you lift your hips off the beds to meet his, thrust for thrust. Hoping to pull him in even closer, you dig your heels into his ass and use it as leverage for your thrusts. Doing this changes the angle just the smallest amount, but now there’s a delicious pressure being applied to the perfect place inside you every time Josh fills you up. This combination of his cock hitting your g-spot and his thumb on your clit has you quickly approaching climax, your face inadvertently scrunching up and your breathing becoming more labored.

Josh notices the changes in your facial expression and breathing and lowers himself to plant a kiss on your lips. Speeding up his motions on your clit, he kisses over to your ear and whispers, “That’s it, baby. Let me see what you look like when you cum.”

The words set something off inside you and you reach your peak, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as a loud gasp leaves your lips. Eyes screwed shut, you moan out, “Josh! Fuck!” and feel yourself gush around him. Your orgasm is prolonged by Josh continuing his movements, making your legs shake and sweat bead at your forehead. The feeling is so intense, you have to swat at Josh’s hand to get him to stop petting your clit and overstimulating you.

Your orgasm has caused your pussy to clench around Josh, and you know he’s affected because his thrusts start to become more erratic. Even though you’re absolutely spent, you reach up to nibble on his ear and run your nails down his back, encouraging him to let go. He plunges into you just a few more times, and then he’s letting out a low grunt and calling out your name in a strained voice.

Josh doesn’t pull out right away, remaining inside you while the both of you come down from your highs and catch your breath. He kisses you, slow and gentle this time, making you feel all sorts of things that it is definitely too soon for you to be feeling. When he finally pulls away, he smiles down at you, then pulls out and gets up to dispose of the condom.

He’s back a second later, flopping beside you on his bed and tossing an arm over his forehead. Still grinning, he turns to you and says, “God, that was so hot. Definitely better than I imagined.”

A contented hum sounds from your lips. “Yeah? I’m glad. You can go ahead and add that to your spank bank.”

Josh chuckles at your joke, then extends his hand to play with your hair. Looking at him now, you know that you can’t allow this to be your last time together, and so, you decide to make a little confession of your own.

“I think about you, too, sometimes. When I- when I touch myself, I think about you, too.”

Josh looks surprised for only a second, and then a light giggle leaves his mouth.

“Do you happen to own a vibrator, Y/N?” he questions, a smirk etched on his face.

Cheeks burning, you look away in embarrassment, but still confirm his suspicions with a small, “Yes.”

At your answer, Josh’s face lights up in a full blown grin and he drapes his body over you once more, lips hovering over yours. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, he playfully jests, “You know, thin walls go both ways. The sound of small appliances, say, vibrators, travels pretty easily. And it sounds like yours gets quite a bit of use.”

You know it’s stupid to feel embarrassed, since you’re naked in his bed, but you can’t help averting your eyes from his.

Now giggling at your awkwardness, Josh taps your nose with his to get you to look at him again. “Hey,” he laughs, “Next time you’re thinking of whipping that vibrator out, you can just come see me instead. I’ll take care of you.”

Laughing along with him, you jokingly whisper back, “I’ll keep that in mind,” and seal your lips to his, feeling unusually grateful that you were given such a noisy neighbor.

480 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: The Light Of Morning

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Drug Use, NSFW, SMUTT, LOTS OF WORDS

Words: 8.6k

Summary: What is done in the dark, comes to light.

Note: I come bearing gifts! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoy this! ❤️❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

“Ms. Y-L-N, this is the final print. It’s just waiting for your approval,” Tandy said, placing it in front of you on your desk.

“Thank you. I’ll have a look. Tell Capri that I need to see the proofs from that shoot this morning.”

“Got it.” You began flipping through the magazine you were the editor in chief of and tried to figure out if all the edits made your cut. You were picky always had been, but your pickiness always paid off. It paid off so much that you were one of the biggest names in fashion and a serious force to be reckoned with. As you flipped you listened in on the phone conference, you were part of all the while taking notes of any idea that came to mind.

Today was a hectic day. The final edits had to go out for printing tonight, on top of the new theme for next month’s magazine. Once the theme was picked, you had to come up with backup articles for all of your staff so that when the staff meeting happened, things would go smoothly. Then you had to iron out all the details for your meetings the following Monday. Fridays for everyone else symbolized the beginning of the weekend and whatever party, but for you, it was always the busiest and most hectic day of the week.

An hour later, your conference was finished, and you’d signed off on the edits. You now had to get down to put together to oversee the inhouse fashion. As you walked out of your office, Tandy shot to her feet.

“Get these off to printing; we’re all set. I’m going down to put together now.”

“Got it. oh, Chris just called.”

“Chris who?”

“Chris Evans, your bestie,” Tandy informed.

“Really, when?”

“Maybe ten minutes ago.”

“What did he want?”

“He said he’s been calling your cell, and you’ve been ignoring him, and he doesn’t appreciate having to find you through your assistant, especially if he’s your best friend,” Tandy explained. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t have time for his melodramatics.

“Thank you, Tandy.”

“Do you want me to call him back?”

“No, he can wait. He needs to learn that I’m not at his beck and call,” you teased with a wink before you got on the elevator.

You and Chris had been friends for a long time. You grew up together in Boston but never really became friends until you were both in middle school, which was right in time to see him turn into the object of every teenage girl’s affection. You’d seen Chris through plenty of awkward phases. The phase where he idolized vanilla Ice and thought he should dress like him. The phase where he thought maybe baseball was going to be his calling—it wasn’t. The phase where he got into soccer only to realize that he was skinny as hell and didn’t really like the uniforms that made him look even skinner.

You were there through other phases too, like the phase where he liked only cheerleaders and had a thing with Beverly Espino while also having a thing with her friend Stacy Carrington. That ended badly when they both realized it. You were there during the phase of him crushing on every burnett in your sixth grade only to change his mind and like all the blondes. Needless to say, you’d seen everything Chris related, girlfriends, side pieces, flings, everything. You knew everything about him, his strengths, weaknesses, fears, and shortcomings. You also knew that all his weaknesses and shortcomings would clash with yours.

After high school, you went to college in New York to pursue a degree in journalism and communications. Chris went off to make his mark in Hollywood. Your friendship took a backseat to both of your goals, but that wasn’t the case for long. You made sure to put in the needed effort to remain in each other’s lives. You accompanied him to countless Hollywood events, and he accompanied you to plenty of work events. Now with both of you in your thirties and at the peak of your careers, your friendship was stronger than ever.

When you made it down to put together, you looked over all the pieces of clothing that had been sent to you for you to style as you wished for this month’s issue. The ones that hadn’t been chosen were set to be sent back or reused for next month. You spent the next hour or so making a plan for what you wanted to send back and what you planned on styling for the next issue. You got so enthralled you lost track of time. When Tandy came in to whisper to you that you were late for your interview, you panicked. You hated being late.

It took you five minutes to get back to your office, where some interviewers were waiting for you.

“I’m so sorry. I lost track of time making plans for next month’s issue.”

“We understand, when you make it to the top, you’re supposed to make people wait,” a well-dressed woman with auburn hair said with a smile.

“Ha, the top. Nonsense.”

“Plenty would beg to differ. I’m Madeline, and this is Jeff.”

You shook their hands and asked Tandy to bring in a bottle of your preferred flavored sparkling water; then, you sat in the seat before them. You noticed Jeff give you the once over before he licked his lips as his eyes rested on your thighs.

“Welcome, I’m Y/N, I’ve never liked the whole Mr. Y-L-N.”

They smiled and visibly relaxed. You didn’t know where this idea that you were a mean ass came from. You were so far from that. You did like respect and liked a good job done. Those traits made you meticulous and determined. You didn’t like your time wasted. The interview began with them asking how you got your start and whether or not you knew this was where you wanted to me. You answered the questions honestly, never giving too much information. It was a trick Chris taught you. He always said answer the question asked do not give an ounce more. If you do, you’re making it easy for them to pry for more and or twist your words. It was great advice, advice you followed.

When the conversation went into details on how you put an issue together and how you kept it all organized, you rambled on and on. Your passion was what you did, and you luckily loved what you did. You loved sharing insight, lessons learned, and tips and tricks. You were a black woman, and for you to have made it this far was unheard of. You wanted to show other black little girls that there is no glass ceiling; they too could be right where you were or higher.

When the interview had reached the forty-five-minute mark, you looked to the door expecting Tandy to be there to encourage them to wrap it up. She was nowhere in sight.

“So, Y/N, there is a lot of curiosity about your personal life. You are so successful, so much of a force to be reckoned with inquiring minds need to know. Is there a Mr. Y-L-N waiting at home for you at nights with your bathwater drawn and dinner waiting?”

You nearly laughed way too loudly. The question was ridiculous. You hadn’t had a date in months because of how busy you were, and for the fact again, you hated your time wasted. Men were either intimidated by you and didn’t approach or approached with the intent on wasting your time.

“My success comes with late nights, early mornings, and lots of sacrifices. No Mr. anything is waiting for me at home.”

Jess smiled and quirked his brow before he licked his lips again.

“So the old wives' tales are true. The ones that say successful women have to sacrifice the happy home life of husbands and babies to reach where they want to be.”

You were speechless. How did you answer that? Of course, you didn’t believe that, but that was precisely what you’d been doing. Clearing your throat, you adjusted in your seat.

“On the contrary, I believe women are in control of their lives and futures. It is absolutely possible to have every single thing you want. I fully intend to,” you finished as Tandy stepped in. Finally, you thought.

“All finished in here?”

You stood and adjusted your skirt while nodding with a fake smile.

“Yes. Thank you for coming by, Madeline, Jeff. It’s wonderful to meet you. Tandy will show you out and also give you a parting gift of my appreciation.”

You shook their outstretched hands, Madeline’s first and then Jeff’s. When your hands touched, you felt a smooth card in your palm. Jeff smiled slyly while looking right in your eyes.

“Hopefully, we see more of each other,” he said. You caught his meaning, and politely smiled.

“Time will tell. Have a good weekend.”

You watched them walk out then looked in your hand to see Jeff’s business card. On the back was a simple message. “Call me. I’d love to have dinner sometime.” You chuckled to yourself as you dropped the card in your desk, not giving him or it another thought.

“Y/N, Chris is on the phone.”

“Put him through, thank you.”

You dropped in your seat and stretched your legs on top of your desk then picked up the phone. Before you spoke, he did.

“I am not your assistant or some journalist who wants a piece of you, so they chase you down. I don’t appreciate having to--,” he spoke before you interrupted him.

“Man, stop all that noise. My god, you actors sure are sensitive and love to talk.”

Chris laughed on the line, which had you giggling along with him.

“How can I help thee, Chris Evans?”

“Shut up. You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. You’ve been calling all day. What’s up?”

“I’m in town.”

You froze and smiled. “In town, like New York?”

“Duh New York, where else would in town be?”

“Shut up, don’t come for me.”

“I was planning on doing just that. I had a few interviews today, and I don’t have to fly out until tomorrow afternoon,” he informed before you gasped and sat up.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If it involved beers and music, then yeah,” Chris answered.

You screeched. It had been months since you’d been able to hang out together. You always had a great time together.

“So? You down to take me out?”

“Take you out? You’re such a dork.”

“You like this dork. Can I take that as a yes?”

“Yes. Come by my place at eight.”

“You know that is two hours from now, right? Will you actually be ready? I don’t want to wait for you for an hour, Y/N.”

“You won’t be waiting. I’ll be ready,” you promised.

“Okay, eight. See you then,” Chris finalized before you hung up.

When eight o’clock rolled around, you were not ready, and you knew he was gonna flip out. You ran around your townhouse, trying to finish getting ready. After putting the finishing touches on your makeup look and spritzing yourself with your perfume of the month, you grabbed your clutch in time to hear the doorbell ring. He was ten minutes late, and you knew it was purposely done. Skipping down the steps, you made it to the front door to let him in before he rang again. He gave you a quick once over and stopped at your bare feet.

“I gave you ten extra minutes, and you’re still not ready,” Chris whined. Rolling your eyes, you walked away, leaving the door open.

“Chris, I’m ready. Just give me two minutes. Plus, why are you ringing the doorbell? You have a key.”

You heard the door shut and then heard his footsteps before he turned the corner. “I don’t have any keys on me tonight.”

You tipped your foot onto one of the steps and rubbed the handful of perfumed lotion you carried down with you and paid attention to what you were doing. You didn’t register that everything was quiet. When you looked and turned to him, you rubbed the excess between your thighs.

“What?”

“Uh---nothing, you look incredible. It’s been months.”

You smiled warmly and approached him with your arms stretched out for the hug. He wrapped his arms around you, and the two of you rocked from side to side. His arms engulfed you as they always had, but he felt like he’d bulked up some more.

“Bulked up?”

“Gotta keep the physique looking good.” You rolled your eyes and stepped into your shoes in the corner and adjusted the hemline of your dress.

“See, ready,” you said with a twirl and a pose.

The ride in the cab was not a quiet one. Chris filled you in on everything he’d been doing over the last few months and told you about any new experiences he’d had. There was never one moment of quiet. You’d always found it comforting that no matter how much time passed where the two of you didn’t see each other, it never mattered when you got back together. You talked like no time had passed at all. When he began to tease you about the recent accomplishments you’d made with work, you sat there and ate up the praise. He knew you hated it, but he still did it. Truth be told, you didn’t mind the praise from him; it was from others you hated.

When you walked into the hottest new restaurant in the diamond district, Chris had your clutch and his hand at the small of your back like the perfect gentleman he was. The Friday night crowd was out, and the restaurant was bumbling with overlapping conversations and the clatter of dishes and glasses. As you passed the tables on the way to your own, you felt the eyes of passing men but ignored them. You ordered the first round of drinks and asked for time to decide. That was when you noticed Chris’s eyes on you.

“What?”

“Don’t what me? I must have clocked seven guys just checking you out,” he informed. You rolled your eyes again.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Am not. I saw it with my own eyes,” Chris insisted.

“Ignore them. Why are you looking at other men watching me?”

“Because I need to know and be ready to drop one of them if they step out of line,” Chris boasted. You smirked and shook your head. He’d been dropping guys in your name since you were kids. You knew it was a protective gesture, so you didn’t care.

“What about you? I see plenty of eyes slanting over her to check out your baby blues and cabin in the woods beard.”

Chris laughed heartily again. You liked to tease him about his beard.

“You know you like the beard. Don’t lie, puddin’.”

You couldn’t stifle your laugh at the mention of his nickname for you that stemmed from an incident in your childhood. “Are you going to drop one of them for me?”

“Hell no, I don’t fight for no man, honey,” you quickly responded.

“I’m not just anybody,” Chris defended. You took him in for a few moments, but the moment was interrupted by the waiter bringing by your drinks.

The two of you ordered your meals and got right back into talking and teasing one another. You’d missed him, and it was evident he’d missed you too. Dinner was delicious, and the service was spectacular. Chris left a generous tip after he paid the bill much to your annoyance. He knew you hated being kept. You worked hard to make your own money and liked to spend it. When you protested, he overrode your voice and went ahead and did it anyway. He didn’t do it to be sexist; he did it because that was how Ms. Lisa raised him.

After another fifteen-minute ride in a cab, you arrived at a club that Tandy had told you about weeks ago but hadn’t gotten around to going. From the modern exterior, it looked really exclusive. The neon lights were dark but blinding. The colors were all aesthetically pleasing and complimented the fresh slate of the outside. When you walked to the guards in front of the establishment, they looked at you from head to toe and smiled their approval. They then glanced at Chris, who had his head dipped low so no one recognized him. When the guards opened the doors for you, those who were in line groaned and whined their displeasure.

“Oh shut up, or you won’t be getting in at all!” Those in line instantly shut their mouths. You walked in front of Chris down the dark corridor.

“Guess you wore the right dress,” he whispered.

“Guess I did.”

The corridor ended and opened up to loud music and even darker neon lights that gave everyone enough privacy to have a good time however they saw fit.

“Wow,” Chris uttered.

“Right. How long has it been since you danced your ass off white boy?”

You walked down the steps toward the dance floor and turned to him as you began to dance as well. His smile was bright as he shook his head. You beckoned him to you as you continued to dance. When he got in front of you, he began showing you that rhythm he had. He had more rhythm than any white boy you’d ever met, and he took pride in his dance moves. When he busted out some old two-step, you threw your head back and laughed loudly. Chris then wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to him. The two of you danced and got lost in the music.

It felt good to finally cut loose after such a long time being work-focused. You’d tried to ignore how badly you needed a night out, but right now, you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Chris kept his hands respectful as you danced close together. Every so often, he turned you and danced behind you, keeping up with the latest dance moves. You leaned to his ear.

“Someone’s been watching Tik Tok,” you teased. He laughed again and brought his lips to your ears.

“And paying attention to my niece and nephew,” he joked.

After an hour of dancing, the two of you found an empty area and ordered two rounds of drinks. As you drank and swayed in your seats to the music, you shouted at each other, still catching up. The music was so loud that you missed a few words here or there, but because you knew him so well, you knew what he was saying. There were so many instances where you each finished each other’s sentences before laughing together about it.

“More dancing?”

You nodded and took his hand and allowed him to lead you back to the dancefloor. It was even more crowded than before, and you were shocked; he still hadn’t been recognized. He was also surprised, but you could tell he was enjoying his new anonymity. Your moves got sillier and sillier the more you drank, and his got more frat boy as he knocked drink after drink back.

At one point, you ended up in the air being moved through the crowd with you shouting. When you returned to your feet, there Chris was in the center of the circle doing some old school moves that had you laughing. He found you in the crowd and posed. You knew what it meant and panicked as you rapidly shook your head. Chris stamped his foot adamantly and gave you a stern look. You shook your head again, but he was not letting up. Rolling your eyes, you just gave in. He smiled once he saw he’d worn you down. With two nods of your head you ran toward him, he bent and did his best Patrick Swayze impersonation from Dirty Dancing by hoisting you into the air and holding you there. The crowd erupted with loud cheers and hooting. You looked down at Chris and found his eyes already on you. Shaking your head, you giggled before he allowed you to drop into his arms so he could slide you down his body.

“You’re such a dork!”

The night passed in a blur. You drank an excessive amount of alcohol, and after a while, the vibe in the club turned utterly hedonistic. When someone approached you with an assortment of party enhancements, you were shocked when Chris’s hand was the first to fly out for the trey. His only response was “live a little.” He made you look like such a prude sometimes. Since peer pressure always worked, you chose two items off the trey and took one of the rolled joints.

You danced, drank, puffed and passed to each other and allowed whatever you’d taken to take you higher than either of you had been in a long time. When you left the club and climbed into the back of a cab, you could see the sky beginning streak with the impending sunrise. Neither of you could stop laughing about any and every stupid thing. When you got back to your place, you stumbled inside and laughed a lot more before you made it to the living room floor where you sprawled out on.

“Oh my god, do you remember the last time we were high together?”

You snorted and laughed for a little while. “Nope, it’s been months though.”

“What did we take?”

“I don’t know, but all these colors are so vivid,” you responded.

“They are,” Chris answered. Both of you let out a united, “wow.”

Several minutes passed with the two of you lying on the floor in front of the big French window looking up at the sky. You had such a delicious high that nothing felt real or like it mattered. All of your senses were heightened. You could smell Chris’ cologne like you wore it and taste the last drink you had before leaving the club almost forty minutes ago. The material of your dress gently rubbed against your skin, and though it hadn’t felt bothersome before, it sure did now. Even the coolness of the floor felt incredible against your skin.

“Why’d we never get together, Y/N?”

Your snort was loud, louder than it should have been.

“Shut up. You’re so stupid.”

He laughed right along with you before he stopped. “I wanna know. We’ve been friends since we were eleven. I knew you before you got boobs,” Chris reminisced.

Again, you couldn’t help but snicker.

“And I knew you before your balls dropped,” you countered. Neither of you could keep a straight face with that one.

“See. So why?”

You sighed and lifted your leg into the air, not expecting that your heel would fly right off and across the room to knock something onto the floor with a loud clatter. That set you both off laughing uncontrollably.

“Because I know everything about you, and you know everything about me,” you informed.

“Some would say that’s a good thing.”

Looking to your left at him, you scoffed and shook your head. “Not for us. I know too much. We’d never work. Our uglies won’t play well together,” you finished before looking back to the sky.

“Well, I think everything would play well together,” Chris countered this time.

You shook your head and sat up to reach the bar that you knew was close by. Raising onto your knees, you grabbed the first bottle you could reach then dropped down onto your elbows to look at it.

“What’d ya get?”

You looked at him with a wide smile. “Hennessey. How adventurous are you feeling?”

“Crack it open,” Chris answered with a strong Bostonian accent. You opened the bottle and brought it to the head for a few gulps before handing it off to Chris. Then you leaned back on the ottoman that was there. You watched him take his gulp. He wrinkled his nose and blew out.

“How would you handle my tendency to push people away?”

Chris looked at you, took another gulp from the bottle, and blew out a breath again.

“Hmm—not let you push me away.”

You rolled your eyes at his genius plan. “Great plan, dork. How would I handle your tendency to be a flirtatious dick?”

He smiled his signature Chris Evans smile and lifted both his eyebrows. “By knowing I only have eyes for you.”

You snorted and shook your head before you grabbed the bottle. “Bullshit,” you said before bringing it to your head.

“I’m being serious right now,” Chris protested louder than necessary.

“You’re drunk. That is the only reason why you’re bringing this up.”

“Okay, yes. I’m drunk and high as fuck, but that does not make the question any less valid.”

He was being his annoyingly persistent self. Usually, this trait would be a good thing, endearing even, but when he was drunk, it was anything but endearing.

“What do you want from me, Chris?”

“You’ve never thought about us?”

“There is no us,” you pointed out.

“I know that, but you’ve never thought about it?”

You didn’t hesitate with your answer. “No. I mean, not really.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Chris admitted.

You had to laugh then. He was really venturing into unchartered territory. You’d never talked about anything like this before.

“Shut up. You have not!”

“I have. It was brief, but I thought about it,” Chris confessed.

The two of you were silent for a while. Your mind was running as fast as it could, which wasn’t that fast because of whatever party enhancements you’d taken. You couldn’t wrap your head around this conversation.

“And?” Your curiosity was not impaired, though.

“And what?”

“Did we work in your brief thought?”

Chris took a deep breath and grabbed the bottle and took another healthy gulp.

“I don’t know. It was like a flash of a few instances. We seemed—happy.”

“Liar. We probably argued like cats and dogs.”

Your laugher intermingled before you both fell silent again, just watching the sky change its hue.

“Nah—we were good together like always,” Chris finished.

You took the bottle and took three big gulps and almost gagged from the burn in your throat that rushed to burst into flames in your belly. You were quiet for a few minutes, but it was you who looked at him first. Sensing your eyes on him, he looked to you, and the two of you just gazed at each other. It was the two of you who moved in simultaneously before hesitating just when your lips were going to touch. Some part of you said stop, but it was a small, quiet part, every other part of you was telling you to do it.

When your lips touched neither of you moved, you stayed there, letting it sink in. When you did move, it was a slow and cautious kiss. Your lips pressed and brushed together in an intimate way that was foreign for the context of your relationship. Though it was foreign, it felt good. After what must have been minutes, Chris deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into your mouth to curl around yours. A moan escaped you, and as if that moan was the hammer that destroyed whatever wall and gate that kept the two of you from going down this path. Chris moaned after you, and it was a new sound for you. You rose onto your knees at the same time Chris did the same thing. He cupped your skull and kissed you more earnestly. Your hand gripped his waist and loved the heat radiating off him.

You kissed him back with as much passion and yearning he kissed you. For several long minutes, that is all you did. It was a feeling to relish, a feeling you wanted more of. You were the first to begin to undo his shirt. When Chris felt your finger graze his chest, he pulled his lips from yours to peer into your eyes. You were focused on his shirt and the goal you had—to get his clothes off. Once the buttons were undone, you pushed his shirt off and looked over his exposed skin. He had buffed up, you thought. When your eyes met, neither of you moved for quite a while. It was as if both of you were taking in the moment and fully acknowledging the line you were about to cross.

Your lips crashed together, and from there, no one could tell where he began, and you ended. Your moans echoed in the quiet room. Chris’s hands touched you everywhere, the back of your head, your neck, the small of your back and your ass. His large hands cupped your bottom and pulled you flush against him. When he pulled your head back by your hair, he latched his lips onto your neck, which had you biting onto his shoulder as you enjoyed the sensations of his lips on your skin. When he nibbled your ear lobe, you threw your head back but grabbed at his pants and began unbuckling his belt. Your movements were quick.

You felt Chris lower the zipper down your spine then trail his finger along your skin until he reached the back of your neck. Once there, he gripped you and angled your head, so you looked at him. You could see nothing but desire in his eyes, and that was all you cared about. You kissed him again and took control. You teased his tongue then nibbled his bottom lip as you finally got his pants open. Chris then peeled your dress off your body, revealing your naked body to him for the first time since you were twelve.

He looked enflamed as if the sight of you set him on fire. You grabbed the bottle from the floor and gulped a mouthful before holding it out to him. You laid back onto the floor just as Chris accepted the bottle and took two gulps from it before he put it to the side and lowered his head to your breast. He sucked it into his mouth and teased it along with the mouthful of Hennessey. As he explored your skin for the first time, you hugged his head to you and arched your back, feeding him even more of your flesh.

Chris brought his lips to your other breast and did the same before he ended on a forceful nibble. He trailed kisses down the center of your body. When he got to your belly button, you watched as he dribbled the remainder of the liquor in it. The wayward glance he offered you only set you on fire even more. He languidly slurped the liquid from the indentation and used his tongue to swirl around it to ensure he got it all then peeled the rest of the dress off of your body with help from your lifted legs.

Slowly Chris spread your thighs and looked between them at your black lace thong. After looping his thumbs at the waist of the garment, he pulled them off of you. When he got the first glimpse of your sex, he sucked in a breath then groaned.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous!” That was the only thing he said before he buried his face between your thighs and began demonstrating all the ways he was good with his mouth. He expertly flicked his tongue across your clit before he sucked it into his mouth only to repeat the action from before. He did it in a dizzying pattern, one that had you on edge and needing more.

You buried your fingers in his hair and held his head in place and began bucking your hips across his lips. His moan was one of approval. He liked that you were using his face to get yourself off that turned you on even more. Chris pressed your thighs back to the cool floor and held them there then took control of the way he ate your pussy. In seconds you saw stars and found yourself panting and muttering incoherently. You didn’t care that you were getting loud; all you cared about was him keeping his pace. Chris dipped his tongue into your heat, and you lost your shit. Screeching out, you came on his mouth as you bucked even more wildly truing to milk and prolonging the pleasure you felt.

“Mmmm, you taste so fucking good. I could eat this pussy all night,” Chris huskily purred. The dim light that poured in behind him bathed him, making him look like some sort of heavenly creature. He was gorgeous, and you began to wonder if he’d always been gorgeous or were you seeing him in a new light. Chris lowered his head to kiss your inner thigh. Then he dropped a suctioned kiss to your clit that renewed the fire you felt. Lifting your legs, you pushed at his pants, hinting for him to take them off.

Answering your silent plea Chris arched over you, allowing you to use your feet to free him of the confining material. The loud clatters of him kicked off his shoes echoed in the room, but then he remained hovered over your body, showcasing his incredible upper body strength and giving you the first look of grown-up Chris. His cock was long, thick, and mesmerizing. Long gone were the days of him having a skinny pale-looking worm, he’d grown nicely.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chris breeched. You raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

“You’re thinking about the first time you saw it when we were eleven. It looks a lot different now.”

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his waist. “I promise I know what to do with it now,” Chris finished with a smirk.

“Prove it,” you whispered. He shook his head and, but you could see the fire in his eyes. He liked a challenge; he liked feeling like he had something to prove. He crashed his lips to yours again and stole your breath in seconds. You moaned on him and wrapped your arms around his back. The way the muscles there danced and spasmed had you moaning even more.

When you felt him press forward to sink the tip of his intrusion in, you gasped on his mouth and angled your head back, giving him unrestricted access to your neck. Chris groaned as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and continued sinking into you. With each agonizingly slow glide, you came that much closer to falling apart. He stretched you so deliciously, so perfectly that your body began to shake. In no way were you prepared for the size of him, and he was blowing your mind with just what the good Lord blessed him with. It sure didn’t look like much when you were kids. After him feeding you half of his length, you gripped him tightly, which had him grunting before fully thrusting into you.

“Fuck!” Both of you shouted out together, him feeling the full heat of your body and you claiming your second release of the night.

Chris took several deep breathes then slowly pulled back, leaving only the tip of him before he looked down to watch as he filled you to the hilt once again. A whimper escaped him before he did it again, and again and again. Each time he snapped his hip forward more forcefully, and each time your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Chris began to move within you like a wave ebbed at the shore. His eyes met yours, and the moment became even more intense.

After a few minutes, Chris was rocking in and out of you to his own rhythm. It was clear he had one goal, and it was to bring you as much pleasure as possible. his lips tasted every part of your upper body, neck, shoulder, earlobe, collar, nipple and each time he tasted of you he acted as if your skin was the sustenance he needed. After your third orgasm, you flipped him onto his back and rocked your hips against him. Chris arched his back and spread his arms out beside him as he released a deep groan.

He watched your body move and allowed you to take your pleasure from him. Every time you rocked forward, you felt him lurch within you, and after the fourth time, you were addicted to the feeling. Using his abdomen as leverage, you bounced on him as you rocked, changing the angle of which he pumped into you and the intensity of the sensations. Chris gripped your hips and held you where you were before he pumped up into your core.

“Ah, shit, yes! Mmm, fuck me!”

With the demand, you were on your back once again with your ankles on his shoulders, and him hovered over you as he fucked you better then you could remember ever having it done before. He was reaching places you’d forgotten were there. Your skin was peppered with goosebumps, and every time he stoked that sweet spot in you, your whimpers picked up. When you heard Chris’ moans, you used his shoulders as a brace to begin rolling your body like a wave giving as good as you got.

“Fuck!” The way Chris looked at you said he hadn’t expected you to do that, and he was quickly losing his shit. You dropped your legs and pushed him away. You had the strongest urge to have him in your mouth. Quickly you rose to a sitting position before you bent down to lick at his cock.

Chris sucked in a long breath and groaned out with every inch you sank into your mouth. When your lips wrapped around his entire shaft, Chris gripped your head and groaned loudly.

“Oh my god.” You pulled back and repeated the action before you sped your movements. You knew he was close; you could feel it with everything in you. Bringing your hand to join your lips, you worked him with a pattern you knew would be his finisher. As you swirled your tongue around him, he let out a shriek that was music to your ears. Chris sank back onto his heels, then panted and groaned.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Locking eyes with him, you moaned on him but sped your lips. He knew what you intended, and he was powerless to stop you. After the fourth lodge in your throat, you moaned, and just like that, he came. You moaned and took everything he had. Several long moments later, you pulled your mouth free and moaned with a cocky smile. Chris’ jaw was dropped with a look of sheer disbelief on his face.

You grabbed the bottle and took a mouthful of the brown liquor and moaned as the flavorful liquid washed down the mouthful he’d just given you.

“Fuck outta here,” Chris chided, letting his accent shine through. He then grabbed the bottle, took a gulp of his own, and grabbed you before he pushed you over the ottoman. In seconds he’d sank into you again like he hadn’t just come. He was more than ready.

This round, he was in full control, and he used his control to show you just how much he’d grown and how much he knew now. Long gone were the days of him experimenting and practicing. He was a big boy now, and he was fucking you the way big boys did—roughly, deeply and thoroughly. You screamed his name and panted with every snap of his hips into you. When he grabbed your hair to pull you back against him to then gently grab your throat, you lost it. Never in your life had you been into this kind of play, but with him right now, the forceful and dominating way he held you and commanded your body was making you weak and ready to let him take it any way he wanted.

From the ottoman, you moved to one of your couches where he used it at a perch for his foot to give you a deeper, more intense angle that sent you over the edge. From there, he pressed you against the cold window tempting anyone who dared look in to watch as he fucked the life out of you. When you finally came again, you were back on the floor with him over you, giving you slow, deep strokes that were next to impossible to take, but you took it. You took every fucking thing he gave.

-The Next Day-

The sound of the passing garbage truck and then street sweeping machine stirred you wake. Groaning, you sat up only to get shriek when the harsh light beamed down into your face. Shielding your eyes, you waited for them to adjust before you peeped through them and to your right. Your head was pounding, and everything you looked at was blurry.

“Oh my god,” you groaned. Waiting a few minutes, you sat there feeling worse than you’d felt in a long, long time. When you looked to your right again, you saw the nearly empty bottle of Hennessey and groaned.

“Uuugh, fuck you, Henny,” you groaned out before you opened your eyes wider.

You felt a body beside you shift, and then you felt the unmistakable nudge of a dick against you. Your head snapped to the right to see Chris lying there shirtless with your throw blanket draped haphazardly across his man parts. Your jaw dropped as panic began to set in. You looked at yourself and saw you were topless and that the same throw was across your lap as well.

Slapping your hand across your mouth in an attempt to keep any sound from escaping, you began to hyperventilate. Again, the nudge of a dick pressed more forcefully against you. You were horrified but filled with a strange curiosity that you fought with every fiber of your being. You were afraid to move. It was as if you thought if you didn’t move, then none of this would be real. It wouldn’t be real that you’d just had sex with your best friend. So, without moving, you sat there and stared out the window before you.

You don’t know how long you just stared out the window in a daze, but you felt when Chris woke. His groan said he too felt the pounding in his head. You decided not to look his way; this would only get worse that way. You remembered everything.

“Oh—fuck,” Chris whispered. You nodded, knowing the weight of everything had set in. He sat up beside you, but neither of you spoke, you just stared out the window in front of you.

After a few moments, you couldn’t handle being this close, and you got up to realize you were completely naked. Chris instinctively looked over you before he shook his head and looked away.

“Oh fuck,” he repeated. You hurried away toward the second couch and took the other throw blanket and wrapped yourself in it before walking out toward the kitchen. You needed coffee.

As you worked the almost five-thousand-dollar espresso machine in your kitchen, you went over everything that happened the night before. The more you remembered, the more panicked you became. When Chris came into the kitchen, he was dressed with his shirt unbuttoned enough, showing his chest tattoos. He approached the espresso machine as you turned to walk away from it. Your bodies bounced, and with it came another memory of the night before. You abruptly turned and went the opposite way to sit at the nook. You sat in silence while staring into the cup of coffee.

Chris sat with you, but he also remained quiet for several more minutes.

After a few sips of coffee, he spoke, “Soooo, that happened.”

“Did it? Do you actually remember it happening?”

Chris nodded slowly as his facial expressions became more and more animated. “Uh—yeah. I remember a lot of things,” Chris answered.

“Oh, god.” You rubbed your forehead and took a big gulp of the black sludge in your white ceramic cup.

“Where did you learn to do that thing with your mouth?”

“Chris!” Your shock was evident.

“Sorry. Right not important.”

The silence returned and stretched as both of you still struggled to wrap your heads around the last eighteen hours.

“Have you always been able to make it jump like that?”

Chris paused his coffee cup filled hand in midair as he glanced at you. “Did you like it?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up. Not important,” you drilled.

Again, you were silent, just sipping away at your coffee, refusing to address the enormous elephant in the room.

“What about the way you squeezed me? How’d you learn that?”

You slapped your hand to your face. “Oh my god, Chris. We have to forget what happened. It shouldn’t have happened,” you began.

“Yeah, but how do we forget it all? It was a lot. You did things to me—whooo, no good catholic woman knows how to do what you did,” Chris admitted as your jaw dropped.

“Shut up. You’re the one to talk. You’re no good catholic boy. Does your mother know what you do with that mouth?”

When the two of you began laughing together, the tension between you fell away, and you were left with the normal way you always talked. It was comfortable.

“Oh my god,” you groaned out again.

“I don’t want anything to be weird,” Chris quietly began as he looked at you. You nodded your agreement. That was the last thing you wanted too.

“It won’t be. It was a one-time thing. We were really, really, really fucked up.”

“One-time thing,” Chris repeated as you both nodded in agreement.

You finished your coffee and made him a quick bowl of oatmeal that you shared. Though both of you tried to ignore the elephant and forget it was there, it wasn’t so easy. You caught his eyes on the parts of your body the throw exposed as you moved, and you recognized the look on his face. You were sure he caught the way your eyes stayed glued to his exposed chest or his hands as he used them. All you could think about was the way he’d touched you, and the feel of his weight hover you.

You were now in this weird limbo place, and you didn’t know what to make of it. You knew, though, that you didn’t want to lose what you had.

“Ah damnit,” Chris hissed as he looked at his watch.

“You gotta go,” you informed. He nodded and confirmed.

“I have an appearance to film before my flight out.”

“Yeah. Go, go. It’s cool. We’ll talk,” you rushed out.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Chris, get to work.” You smiled, then stood and led the way to the front door. Chris made sure he had everything he needed and stopped in front of it facing you.

“Uh—thank you for last night,” he awkwardly began. You quirked your eyebrow and scrunched your face.

“Uh---.”

“Weird?”

“I mean, it’s like you’re thanking me for sex,” you informed.

“Fair enough. At least I’m not shoving an envelope of a few thousands in your hand,” Chris teased before he got a slap to the gut.

“No thank yous, no I’m sorries, just—go.”

He nodded and came in to kiss your cheek awkwardly. Your eyes met, and they lingered before he pulled back to kiss your forehead. After he did, he turned to walk out the door.

“Jesus,” you whispered.

All you wanted to do was bury your head under your blankets, but you knew you’d obsess over the entire night and think about it way too much. You also knew the chances of you overthinking it and making things worse were almost guaranteed. You decided to keep yourself busy. For the remainder of the day, you ran errands, cleaned your house, and did everything not to give yourself any time to sit and think.

By the time evening came, you got a text from Chris letting you know he was lifting off and that he’d call when he landed. Your reply was typical Y/N.

MSG: Eh, don’t worry about calling. It’s not necessary. Have a safe flight.

When you asked him how he’d handle when you pushed him away, you were being honest. He knew you had this tendency. Even though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he still called. You watched it ring and ring until it ended. That was how things went for the majority of the weeks that passed. Every time he called, you either ignored it entirely and pretended it never happened or sent a meager text a few hours later, apologizing for missing his call. You’d then text back and forth in intervals thanks to his busy schedule until one of you—usually, you let the conversation fade.

A week passed, then two, then four until seven had passed where you’d barely spoken or texted. You knew you were being super weird about things even when you were the one to promise things wouldn’t be weird. You also knew that you were pushing him away, and it was the absolute opposite of what you wanted to do. It was apparent in how you kept up with him in the tabloids and news articles. Every time he had an accomplishment, you cheered for him while sending a dry text showing your support. It was usually a text he responded to with the same dryness.

In that time, you used your work as a crutch and excuse to pile more on to keep busy. You stayed so busy that you ignored the signs of exhaustion your body was sending you. When you passed out at work from severe dizziness, you finally listened and took the rest of the day off to work at home. While in the cab and tapping away in an email, you felt the first bout of nausea. That one feeling had you opening your calendar to go over your dates. When you realized you were over six weeks late, you nearly passed out again.

After stopping by a pharmacy for not one or two but eight pregnancy tests, you beelined it home. It took you a whole hour to get the nerve to take them. You kept putting it off and doing everything else but. Once you took them, you sat on your bathroom floor, surrounded by pregnancy tests. You tried your best to keep your head clear and not think any thoughts. Your phone went off for the fourth time, signifying that the five minutes needed had passed long ago. You’d sat on the floor for twenty minutes, unable to look at not even one test.

“Come on Y/N. You fought for everything in your life. You’re successful, financially comfortable, just look at the damn test.” You took several deep breathes and looked down at the first test to see two double lines.

“Oh.”

You moved on to the next one and bugged your eyes, seeing another pair of double lines. Quickly you moved to the next and read the word “pregnant” in the clear blue window. As you looked around you, each and every text showed double lines, a plus sign, or the word “pregnant.” You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

You were pregnant with your best friend’s baby.

You were pregnant with Chris’ baby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#light of morning fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #chris evans smut

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years

Text

Valentine’s Day

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Angsty, a tiny bit of humor

Word count: 2.7K

A/N: I guess you guys like angst?? It’s not as angsty and heartbreaking like how I imagined it in my head but I hope you guys enjoy this one a lot more and the new series will be out on Monday! Also, sorry that this came out a day later. I got admitted to the hospital YET AGAIN so that’s the reason why it’s late.

Summary: You absolutely hated Valentine’s Day. Nothing like a day to remind you how unattractive and unwanted you were by the entire male population. But will all that change this Valentine’s Day?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The loud, annoying tone of your alarm startled you awake. You picked your head up with heavy eyes and immediately turned it off. Plopping back down on your pillow, you groaned.

It was that time of year.

Valentine’s Day.

The worst day of the year, where you hated being reminded of the fact that no one liked you. Time and time again, year after year after year. No one has every confessed to you. You’ve never been in a relationship. You’ve never been given chocolates on Valentine’s Day. You always felt unwanted and unloved during this time of year. And you exactly knew why.

Momo Yaoyorozu.

Your gorgeous cousin. The smartest, prettiest, most down to earth person in your entire family. Everyone fell for her. And you couldn’t blame them. She really was like an angel sent from heaven. Down to her looks and her personality, she had it all. But it didn’t help your ego that Momo sat right behind you in class. So during this time of year, her desk would be stacked with chocolates, presents, hand written love letters from all ages.

You didn’t want to say you resented her… but you did. God, you were jealous. Was it hard to just ask for at least one letter? All you needed to feel better was one person to show you affection and maybe then, you wouldn’t feel so much hate and jealousy. But no matter how many times you prayed, each year was the same. And it was going to be the same this year too.

You arrived to your class, only to see Momo already being bombarded with boys. Boys from our class, boys from the next class over. Even some of our seniors are here to shower Momo with unconditional love. And it was only the start of the day. There was more to come.

You maneuvered your way to your seat, forcing people to get out of your way. You plopped down in your seat in an annoyed way, praying that class would start soon. But all these people around Momo and them confessing their love for her, you couldn’t help but think badly of yourself. Were you really that unattractive? What did Momo have that you didn’t. You both looked similar, considering that you were both blood related. But she just drew all the attention. No matter where she went or who she met, they always fell for her.

You glanced back at her and she was all giggling and happy. Of course she would be. It would be nice to be on the other side for once. Just once. To know that someone out there might like you. Then maybe you had a chance at love. But you can only dream. What is she going to do with all that chocolate anyway? Momo was never a fan of desserts but she can’t reject anybody either.

It was already halfway through the day and you swear time couldn’t go any slower. The teacher dismissed themselves off for the next period so everyone had a few minutes to take a break. During this time, most students went to the bathroom or went to talk to their friends in other classes. That’s what Momo and a few of her friends did. Not you. You stretched your arms in your desk and just waited for next period to begin. You were about to lay your head down on your desk when another student made his way up to you. A male student. With chocolates in hand. Instantly, your heart skipped a beat.

He was walking right at you. There’s no doubt about that. And it was clear to see that he had chocolates in his hands. Was this your time? Did someone finally find you attractive enough to have feelings for you? You straightened up in your desk as the guy approached you.

“(y/n)?” he called out your name. You bit your lip in anticipation. He bows his head down and extends his arms out to hand you the chocolates. You could literally feel your whole mood being lifted off of your shoulders and happiness and joy filled your body. But before you could say or do anything, he said something that made your heart sink right back.

“Can you please give this to Momo? I couldn’t bring myself to give it to her after seeing that massive crowd this morning. But I thought if I gave it to you, maybe I have a better chance at catching her attention. So please send in a good word for me!” he begged. Ouch. That hurt like a bitch. That whole thing about you feeling happy and having this whole bad mood being lifted off your shoulders? Yeah, that came straight back down tenfold. You got your hopes up only to be crushed in the most humiliating way.

“Yeah… yeah, I can do that,” you say, snatching the box of chocolates out of his hands. Oblivious to your behavior, he beams at you, thankful that you were ‘willing’ to do this favor for him. Your cousin comes back to see yet another Valentine’s gift waiting for her.

“Some guy wanted to give you this while you were gone,” you inform her. She was looking at the gift curiously. Then she smiles with her perfect, gorgeous smile that everyone falls for.

“Thank you, (y/n)! Goodness, I don’t even know where to put this one,” she talks to herself, looking around where she could put the little guy. Her bag was already filled with gifts. Her desk had no room. There was a pile of presents at the foot of her desk and you knew that there was still more coming. And guess what? This happened several times throughout the day, in between classes. Guys would come up to you, knowing that you were Momo’s cousin, and ask you to give her their love letters and small gifts. Guess you’ll only be know as Momo’s cousin. You couldn’t turn them down, no matter how annoyed you got. You just needed to get through lunch and a few more classes until the day was over and you were free. God, how you wanted this day to end so badly.

“Just do it.”

“I will.”

“Now.”

“I’ll do it!”

“She’s walking away!”

“I SAID I’LL DO IT!” Bakugou yells at Kirishima, gripping the letter in his hands that was already crumbled by now. Bakugou was stiff in his stance. No matter how much Kirishima and Kaminari tried to push him and convince him to walk up to you, he would.not.budge.

“C’mon. You did not stay up all night writing this letter to not give it to her,” Kaminari kind of laughs at the blonde for his uncharacteristic-like behavior. Bakugou looks up at you for the hundredth time that day, watching as you gracefully walked down the hallway. He was so stunned by your beauty that he was frozen in place. And by the time he knew it, you already disappeared around the corner.

“Aaaand she’s gone… way to go,” Kirishima pat his best friend on the back. Being the hot head he is, you’d assume he would do everything with confidence and be straightforward, even if it wasn’t in a romantic way. But something about you just made him freeze. You made him completely forget about this façade he puts up around people. You do something to him and he knew it wasn’t normal. He’s never felt like this before so doing anything so… cringey was foreign to him. Plus, he’s never had to go after girls because they are always the one to come to him. He was pretty popular, even he was surprised. Why would anyone like him? But it didn’t matter because the only person he was looking at was you. Now you were gone and out of sight and now he’s frustrated that he was too chicken to just hand you this damn letter.

“Tch, maybe I won’t give it to her,” Bakugou decided to give up. Now that really wasn’t like him. Kirishima and Kaminari looked at each other and smirked. If he wasn’t going to give it to you, then they were going to give him motivation to make him want to give it to you.

“Well if you’re not going to confess to her, maybe I will. It is the perfect day for that,” Denki said aloud, emphasizing each word to get through Bakugou’s thick skull. Oh, he heard it all right. Loud and clear. And he didn’t like that one bit. Anger and irritation started to bubble inside him. So much that smoke started to appear out of his fists.

“Ha?” Bakugou questioned Denki. He wanted to make sure he was hearing correctly. Almost as if he was challenging him to say it again.

“I said, I’m going to confess to (y/n),” Denki rubbed it in his face. That was it.

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KICK YOUR ASS!” Bakugou blew up, explosions coming out of both hands. Mind you, the letter was still in his hand. He just used his quirk. He just blew up his love letter to you. The ashes of the letter fell to the floor and collected in a pile on the floor. All three just looked down in silence. Hours of hard work. Of writing then rewriting and rewriting again. Crumbled up papers that were lazily thrown at the trash can and even more burnt paper filled his floor. He spent hours overcoming his embarrassment and poured his heart and soul in this damn letter only for it to be sat in a pile of ash in front of him.

“Kaminari Denki,” Bakugou said his name, low and menacing. Denki couldn’t look up. He refused to. Bakugou looked up with murder in his eyes. “Run.” “Okay.” He whispered in a small voice and bolted down the hallway with Bakugou right on his tail.

“Wait, Bakugou!” Kirishima yelled out after the two, pulling out his phone. “I took a picture on my phone! Come back!”

The next half of the day was just like the first. Multiple guys came up to you to give Momo their presents because they were too shy. It didn’t faze you anymore. When you returned from lunch, you were the first to enter your classroom and was ready to sit back down. But a note and a small box were laying on top of your desk.

You approached it and took the letter in your hands. There was no name on it. But why was it sitting on your desk? Could it be for you? No way. There’s no way you were falling for that again. You didn’t want to raise your hopes only for them to be crushed by dudes you didn’t even know. Not worth the heartache. Although, there was a slight possibility that it could be for you. Curiosity almost got the better of you and you almost opened the letter to see if it was actually addressed to you, but then you glanced at Momo’s desk. In such a short amount of time, her desk was covered in Valentine’s Day gifts. It was so much that you couldn’t fit another thing on there.

Then it hit you. Someone probably put it on your desk because there wasn’t any more room on Momo’s. That had to be the case. Bummer. Ignoring the slight ache in your chest, you gently laid the letter at the very top of the stack, turned around in your chair and waited for class to start.

Bakugou, Kirishima and Kaminari were all peeking through the window to the classroom to see you receive the letter. Bakugou, being the embarrassed, stubborn boy that he is, couldn’t bring himself to physically give you the letter himself, so he opted to setting it on your desk. At least he was still giving it to you in some way. But as soon as you flipped the letter over, he knew he messed up.

“The name, the name! You forgot to write her name!” Kirishima panicked, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“If it wasn’t for dunce face over here then I wouldn’t have rushed and forgotten to write her name!” Bakugou blamed the blonde next to him. As if he didn’t feel like an idiot then, you put the letter on the desk behind you. You thought someone mistakenly put the letter on your desk when really, it was for you!

“Kirishima!” Bakugou nudged him and he was already on his way. Sneaking past you in a nonchalant way, he swiftly secured the letter in his hands without anyone noticing and returned to the boys. Bakugou snatched it away, his heart racing. Time for plan two.

The bell rang and you could cry of happiness. The day was finally over and you couldn’t wait to get back home. You spent the whole day secretly anticipating if someone would come up to you, but it never came. You saw it coming but you didn’t think it would affect you that bad. Typical Valentine’s Day. You walked to your locker, which was coincidentally right next to Momo’s. It wasn’t hard to spot where your locker was because of the hundreds of love letters covering her locker. Were there that many people at your school that admired only one person?

You raised a brow when you saw a letter taped to your locked. Really? Momo’s locker is definitely crowded with other letters, but there was still room at the bottom for more. You frowned, took the letter and taped it back up on your cousins’ locker. There. That wasn’t so hard. You gathered your things quickly and headed home, finally.

The three friends were now hiding before the corner, waiting until you reached your locker. There was no way you could mistake it now. It was fully on your locked and Bakugou wrote your name on it. What could go wrong? Oh no. Bakugou squinted. The more and more he looked, the more he could see your name was missing. No, he definitely put your name there, he was sure of it. That was when he realized that he taped the letter on the wrong side! The side of the letter where your name was, was facing the locked instead of the other way around. Idiot! He got so nervous he made such a critical mistake. Another fail, once again. But third time’s the charm. When you walked away, Bakugou took it upon himself to take back his letter and chased after you. After two failed attempts, he was not going to let it happen again.

Bakugou chased you out of the school building and onto the school grounds, right by the gate.

“Oi, (y/n)!” Bakugou called out your name. You jumped at the sound of your voice and turned around. The wind blew your hair out of the way like a move and the sun was hitting you just right that Bakugou’s cheeks turned pink. He jogged up to you until he was only a few feet away.

When you saw that THE Bakugou Katsuki was talking to you, you felt your voice get caught in your throat. Oh god. Your name came out of his mouth. He was talking to you. This was unreal.

“Here,” He extended his hand out and gave you a letter with a small box of chocolates. You were excited to see him at first, but when you saw what was in his hands, your heart deflated. You were tricked yet again. He was going to ask you to give it to Momo and of course, you’d say yes. You take his gifts and give him a fake, half smile.

“Yeah, I’ll give them to Momo for you,” you tell him. You turn around but Bakugou grabs your arm and spun you back around, shocking you.

“Why would you give it to Momo?” he asks. That left you confused.

“Isn’t this for-“

“It’s for you,” he interrupts you. You stare into his eyes to see if he was joking. He was being dead serious. Then, your heart started to beat again. He liked you. You. Out of everybody in that school. You. He found you beautiful. Funny. Easy to be around. Down to earth. Momo was everything you were and more. But Momo wasn’t you. And he chose you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou #my hero academia #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia

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vivithefolle · 4 years

Note

Hi Vivi, can you share some thoughts on the "Hermione deserves to be/should have married to XYZ because she is way too good for Ron" mentality of this fandom??

I’m gonna copy-paste a Quora answer of mine, because recycling is important!

Claiming that Ron is “out of Hermione’s league” is a statement rooted in sexism, classism and probably a bunch of other -isms.

It might seem like I’m just throwing buzz-words around but let me explain.

First off, the sexism.

Oh, the sexism.

As I’ve pointed it out in yet another one of my answers (I’m so sorry for drowning you all in a plethora of links), Ron is very much a female-coded male character.

Ron is emotional, wears his heart on his sleeve, has anxieties and inadequacies, walks off in order to cool down, has a temper, puts other people before his needs, and pretty much adopts Harry when he rescues him in the second book. He’s the Heart of the Trio: he doesn’t rely on sole logic, he can believe something without proof, he is sensitive and thus is the easiest to hurt emotionally.

Whether you call it a “beta male”, a “wuss”, “defying gender roles” or a “soft boy” is your own business, but the core of it is that Ron doesn’t meet the standards for people’s vision of a “desirable” masculine figure.

The little things Ron quietly performs in the books - when he helps Harry into his pyjamas in Chamber of Secrets because Harry’s arm is bloop; when he’s worrying about Hermione’s whereabouts in Prisoner of Azkaban; when he helps Harry unwind after his visions in Goblet of Fire; when he puts food onto Harry’s plate and wakes him up from his nightmares in Order of the Phoenix; when he beams that Hermione was “perfect, obviously” when she passes her Apparition test - all those caring gestures don’t seem like much, but if you bother to think about it, they paint an enormous picture.

Who gets Hermione to stop overworking while making her feel good about her accomplishments? Who comforts Harry from his nightmares and cares for him in the dead of the night, when nobody is awake? Who makes sure his friends are healthy and happy? Who wards off the dark and depressing thoughts, be it with his fists or a joke?

It’s Ron.

When you think about it, “traditional masculinity” in Harry Potter is as much frowned upon as “traditional feminity” is - which sometimes bites Rowling in the butt when you remember how she obviously seems to consider that Hermione and Ginny are the only desirable kind of girls.

Vernon Dursley? The entrepreneur “king of the household” prejudiced suburbian middle-class Dad? Fits in the usual tropes of traditional masculinity.

Dudley Dursley? The typical “boys will be boys” spoiled middle-class only child who’s the apple of his parents’ eyes and even takes up boxing, as if he wasn’t traditionally masculine enough.

Draco Malfoy? See Dudley, but toss in “upper-class posh aristocrat bully who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty so he has henchmen do it for him because he’s too rich for this sh-t”, would remind you of a few Christian Greys or Gatsbys.

Dolores Umbridge? Oh no, cat pictures, decorative plates, talks to teens as if they’re babies and PINK, SO MUCH PINK!!! So disgustingly feminine!!

Rowling very much frowns upon traditional gender roles - with Molly Weasley being an exception because Rowling feels very strongly about being a mother, and relates to Molly a lot.

Right - so, being a beautiful mess of paradoxes and contradictions (a “soft boi” who also punches bullies in the face, a fussy mother-hen who swears like a sailor, a tall athlete with badass scars on his arms who’s nurturing and sweet; in short, a wonderfully human character), Ron is obviously going to be a polarizing character. You painfully relate to him and get defensive when he’s criticized, you feel his characterization hits a bit too close to home so you hate him, or you disregard him completely because you can’t see anything “special” about him…

Now, onto another very, very sexist point that is often made.

People say that Hermione “deserves better” than Ron, often claiming that they “aren’t intellectual equals”, then citing Harry (who is mistaken as being some sort of slumbering genius but honestly, the kid is really a bit daft) or Draco (since apparently, being rich must equal to being intelligent) or, god forbid, Snape (because he’s a teacher and teachers are meant to be clever).

Soooo, I could go the loooooong way and pull out all the receipts that prove that none of these characters are perfectly intellectually matched to Hermione…

Or I could go the long way and simply give you this: this obsession with finding an “intellectual equal” for Hermione reflects the mentality of “women are not allowed to be better at something than their husband”.

Yep.

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength. - credit to @lytefoot

People don’t want Hermione to be with a man who’s her “equal.” They want her to be with a man who can be The Man so she can know the contentment of being The Woman.

But, with this sexist line of thought, how do we justify how Ron is supposed to be such a bad match for Hermione? Because if it was just about mere sexism, Romione would surely be more popular. Imagine! Ron happily raising the children, being a house-husband and proud of it, while Hermione is out there fighting for justice in the wizarding world! What a power-couple, defying norms and gender roles and not being the least bit conscious of it, prime OTP material for sure! So why do people still want Hermione to put Harry, Draco, or god forbid², Snape in Ron’s place? Is this an irrational hatred of redheads? An Harmionian’s delirious wet dream? A failure to separate the actors from their characters?

It’s all this and, quite frankly, something more: the inherent classism that comes with Ron’s status as an explicitly working-class coded character.

I know, I know, “Vivian! Calm down with the buzzwords, you’re starting to sound like an online pretend-feminist magazine!”

Or “Come on, people who don’t ship Ron and Hermione together aren’t all sexist or classist!”

Of course, of course! I know that! I’m not implying that!

But some of the “reasons” why they claim that Ron and Hermione can’t work - are extremely classist in nature, that’s just it!

Come on, think about it! What are the Number Ones arguments people always pull against Ron? Or the most common Ron-bashing tropes (look at fanfics and watch the number of stories that use at least one of those)?

Ron is stupid/mediocre

Ron is lazy/useless

Ron resents his wife’s hard work/success

Ron is a homophobe

Ron is a drunkard

Ron (the big prude who at 16 had never kissed a girl and sees a first kiss as the prelude to a wedding) is massively oversexed and cheats on Hermione with anything that moves

Not only do these “reasons” completely ignore ALL OF RON’S CHARACTERIZATION - except for the “lazy” bit but come off it, all teenagers are lazy and Hermione’s the exception to the rule - but it matches perfectly with the negative stereotypes associated with working-class white men in fiction.

It’s also very funny to note how many (assumedly middle-class or financially secure) fans look down on Ron for being “whiny” or “greedy” when he expresses the desire to have money of his own, or blame his parents for “not knowing when to stop” or “being irresponsible”, or even look down on them for being “too proud to accept help”!! Also how shocked people are when Ron dares to stand up for himself when Hermione or Harry act badly towards him. How dare this country boy not listen to the wisdom of his social “betters”?

So, obviously, because our Heroine can’t go with a Nasty, Mediocre Working-Class Man, she must be paired off with someone of Proper Status: say, a Hero that was raised in a middle-class home and might be a bit psychologically damaged but it’s nothing all those gold coins in his vault can’t fix; or this Rich Posh Aristocrat who actively rooted for her death, he’s a little bit eccentric and has some exotic pet-names to call you, but I’m sure you’ll learn to love him and will unearth the gold coins in his bank account… I mean, the heart of gold that lies within the surface; oh, why not a Way Too Big An Age Difference Teacher if you’re looking for a “cultured man” who has zero things in common with you; we can also bring Convenient Plot Device Famous Rich Foreign Athlete if you want some diversity and you don’t feel original!

But we can’t - oh, we mustn’t let her be with this Terrible Working-Class Boy! His brothers are fine, they have money, they have jobs, so they’re obviously Not As Mediocre. But let our precious Hermione be with this Just-Got-Out-Of-School hooligan? She can’t possibly be in love with him! You’ll see darling, you’ll get bored eventually! He’s too mediocre for you, you deserve a man who outclasses you - I mean, who can provide for you! You’re a fragile little flower who scars people for life when she’s not happy with them, what makes you think that this boy can possibly handle you even though he’s done so for the past seven years?

You wanted it, you got it.

People are shallow, have misconceptions about Ron’s character that they are unwilling to correct or use classist and sexist arguments to try to make it so that either Ron is the Devil himself / Hermione is a higher kind of being that can only orgasm if sufficiently “intellectually stimulated” / what-have-you.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #sexism #classism #hp meta #fandumb #hp fandom

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 36

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky tries to convince you why this is the only option.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Heavy angst, dissociation, past references to abuse/torture, grief

AO3

It was like you were in a dream. Or more accurately, a nightmare.

Bucky had taken you to a secluded room, one that looked suspiciously like the room you’d stayed in before, and he tried to explain why this was the best option. Why putting him into some magical fridge would temporarily negate the bond.

You could barely listen to him. Couldn’t even look at him. You couldn’t believe this was really happening. It was too sudden, too fast, he hadn’t even talked to you about it. He’d just made the decision on his own, and it was too late to take it back now.

At first came the anger. The rotting, bitter rage that he would do this to you. Betray you. Leave you again when he promised not to. You wanted to scream all of that at him, but you didn’t. You let him know in a low, flat tone just how hurt you were, and his sorrowful expression only made you angrier. What right did he have to feel sad when he was the one who’d done this?!

Once the rage bled out of you, you tried to reason with Bucky. Told him to think, to really think about it. How did they know it would work? That you wouldn’t drop dead as soon as the bond was severed?

Bucky explained, much too calmly and reasonably, that he’d been through something similar before and why he knew it would be safe.

That was also how you found out about Steve.

“Back during the war, he… he rescued me from HYDRA,” Bucky said, chewing his lip nervously. “They’d started the ritual to turn me into a demon not long before that. Zola hadn’t had time to enslave me with a bond, and when Steve was untying me, he was hurt. He bled on the open wounds on my chest, carved there as part of the ritual. Apparently, that was enough to complete what they’d started… and make Steve my first master.”

You didn’t say anything as you listened. You were sitting on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest as Bucky sat in a nearby armchair. You were too upset to want to be touched, but at the same time, you missed it so much. Missed the effortless affection when you’d been in Boston.

The yearning twisted in your gut at his next words.

“The urges came soon after that. I tried to resist them. Tried to sate the hunger by picking up girls at the bars, whenever we had time to stop in a town. It didn’t work, not like it does with you, because I was a… a succubus then.” He shifted in discomfort, his expression flushed with shame. “Finally gave in and hooked up with a guy. It was exactly what I needed, and I hated it. Or rather, I hated that it made me confront things about myself that were already true before Zola got ahold of me. Things you were supposed to keep hidden away in shame back then.”

He looked down at his claws, glaring at them angrily as if they were to blame. You remained quiet, curious and afraid of where this tale was going.

“I looked normal back then, so it was easier to hide what was happening to me. And then I got involved in a pretty scary situation, a bunch of guys cornered me in an alley. The pheromones took over and I let them all…just…” He cut off his words with a shake of his head. “Right after, that’s when I grew my tail. Not as big as it is now, but I was hysterical, anyway. Tried to cut it off. Did cut it off, actually, and it grew right back. I didn’t understand that large wounds like that will induce a heat.”

Bucky licked his lips, his shoulders hunched and tense. You wished so badly to touch him, but you didn’t.

“I was starving, in agony, and there was no one else around to help… but Steve.”

Something clicked into place, and suddenly it was like you could see one of those 3D eye-puzzles where the image was always out of sight until you focused just right. Bucky’s affection when talking about his friend, the haunted look in his eyes, it all made sense now.

“Steve saw the tail, I was in no damn condition to hide it, and the pheromones kicked in bad. I tried to fight it, but he said he wanted to help, so… I gave in. Didn’t have a choice at the time, but he kept helping me after that. I didn’t want to admit to myself that I’d had feelings for Steve long before then, and… God, this is not the way I wanted to tell you.” He gave a bitter laugh, and this time you did reach out and put your hand over his.

Bucky looked up at you, his eyes glass and red, and you squeezed his hand tighter.

“I’m glad he was there for you, Bucky.” And you meant it, too. You couldn’t imagine how terrified he’d been, his body rebelling against him, tormenting him until he was forced to have sex—

Or, maybe you could imagine it. You could imagine it, which was why you were suddenly so grateful to have Bucky there when you were scared and in pain. And you were glad Steve had been that person for Bucky.

Bucky’s expression softened as he whispered, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You interlaced your fingers with his. “Really glad. He seems like a great guy.”

“He is.” Bucky’s faint smile faded and the haunted look returned. “For a while, we were actually happy. We were in the middle of a war, part of a special unit trying to track down more of HYDRA’s occult labs, but we had each other and… I should have known it wouldn’t last.

“We were on a mission to retrieve Zola when it all went wrong. I fell from the train… and the Soviet branch of HYDRA found me.” Bucky’s expression darkened further, his lips pulling back from his sharp teeth. “I was in and out of conscious as they worked on the arm I lost, but I woke up during the surgery. I could feel Steve, hurting, dying. I found out later he’d plunged into the ice. Not dead, but… the bond was broken enough that I could be bonded to someone else. And I was.”

Bucky’s features twisted into bitterness as he looked down at your interlaced fingers.

“So my point is, no. It won’t kill you. But I won’t lie and say it won’t hurt. Because it’s gonna hurt like hell, and I’m sorry you’ll have to endure it.”

“Then—why do it at all?” you pled as you slid forward on the bed, sitting on its edge as you tightly gripped his hand. “If the bond is that dangerous, then we can stay here. They can monitor us and make sure no one can get hurt.”

Bucky shook his head before you’d stopped speaking.

“What kind of life is that? Keeping you trapped in this place like a prison. What would you tell your mom? Your sister?”

Eyes stinging, you looked away, hot shame now mixed in with your lingering, ever-present anger.

“That’s low, Bucky.”

“You have a life. You deserve to have a life.” He scoffed and for the first time finally sounded angry. He stood up, dropping your hand in the process, his tail twitching as he paced the floor in front of you. “How did you think this would end, realistically? That we’d get our happily ever after and go live in a two-story house with a white picket fence? Maybe a dog and two-point-five kids?”

Directed at you or not, you weren’t going to let that go unchallenged.

“What if I did?” you snapped, standing up from the bed. “Would that have been so bad? Maybe we could have made it work, but we’ll never know because you didn’t even try!”

He rounded on you and your heart leapt in your throat as you stumbled back. But Bucky didn’t do much more than glare.

“I am doing this… for you.”

“You’re doing this because you’re afraid!” you shot back.

“You’re goddamn right I’m afraid!”

He immediately closed his eyes and took a deep breath, curling his fists and releasing them. You stood completely rigid, barely breathing yourself.

Like a flower wilting, his shoulders sagged, curled wings drooping. Even his tail hung limp behind his legs.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” He walked up to you, carefully keeping space between you. It hurt. “But this is the right thing to do. I regret I had to do it this way, without talking to you about it, but ultimately… it was my responsibility.”

“But—“

“This isn’t a romance, sweetheart. This is captivity.” Bucky met your eye and didn’t look away. “No matter how much I wish otherwise, we can’t be in a relationship when neither of us has the option to leave it.”

The words cut through the middle of your chest life a knife. Because nothing cut as deep as the truth.

You turned away and hugged your arms tightly around yourself, as if warding off a chill or protecting yourself. That’s what it certainly felt like. Shielding yourself from the pain blooming in your chest like a flower of daggers.

Bucky’s voice was close and low behind you, but still he didn’t touch you.

“I’ve spent the last two days getting things… prepared. I know this will be difficult for you and I didn’t want to leave you all alone, so I… reached out to Steve.”

You slowly turned back around.

“You… what?”

“Strange had his number.” Bucky dipped his hands into his pockets, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “When I called, Steve was shocked, to say the least. And then angry, which, I’m sure you can relate to.”

You shook your head, more to clear it than as actual response. Bucky reaching out to Steve was a huge deal, especially now that you knew the depth of their past relationship. You couldn’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for him.

“What… what did he say? What did you tell him? How much does he know?”

“Everything.” Bucky’s smile was brief and unhappy. “It’s why it took two days. We had a lot to talk about. He’s… mostly okay with it now. Just pissed. Not at you, of course. At me for not letting him know I’ve been alive all this time.”

As if in afterthought, Bucky rubbed his jaw.

“Bastard sure hits a lot harder than when he was scrawny.” At your concerned frown, he added, “Look, a sucker-punch to the face is the least I deserve, even if that bastard does hit like a truck these days.”

“Bucky…”

“My point is, I asked Steve to check up on you when I’m—“

“No.” You shook her head vehemently and grabbed him by the jacket. “No, stop talking like that. You’re not doing this. I won’t let you do this! You are not throwing your life away because of me!”

He wrapped his fingers over yours, his smile so sad it hurt.

“My chance at a good life was taken away from me a long time ago. It’s not too late for you. When this is all said and done, you can go back to your old life. You’ll have Steve to talk to, now that he knows who you are, and I know Davin will be there for you too.”

“Davin?” You wrinkled your nose. “Why would you bring up Davin?”

“Because he’s a good kid.”

You eyed him, wanting to say something scathing and sarcastic, but the way he was rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand was very distracting.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” you finally said.

“Okay, I admit,” Bucky said with a grimace, “I was more of a hard ass than I needed to be. I didn’t know the guy. I thought he was just some young punk who would run his mouth the first chance he got.”

He looked down and released a slow inhale.

“I was wrong. You know the whole erasing memories thing I can do?”

You blinked at the abrupt change of subject, but nodded slowly.

“Yes.”

“Well…” He released one of your hands to run his fingers through his hair, wings slightly shuffling behind him. “After we brought you and Davin here, I went and tracked down every human that was in contact with the heigore, before and after it had possessed your friend. I took away the memories that showed evidence he was acting odd. That’s what I was doing while you were at the Sanctum. When I was gone those few days.”

“Oh.” You remembered that time very clearly. The loneliness, the fear of abandonment. The boredom that had inevitably led you to follow Monster into the vault. You shivered.

“I was going to do the same to Davin. Erase the memories that the heigore was ever there. I can’t change memories, and the large gap in his memory wouldn’t have been good either, so Strange was going to give him the suggestion that he’d been very sick. But your friend, when I asked him if that’s what he wanted to do? He said no.”

Bucky slightly tilted his head brow dipped and his tail twitching with unease.

“He said, ‘If she has to remember it, then so will I. I don’t want her to have to live with it all alone.’”

Davin had said that? You were touched, really. But…

“Yeah, Davin is a good guy. And I’m sure Steve is too. But they’re not you, Bucky.”

“I know.” It was there in his eyes, quiet resolve. He wasn’t going to change his mind. You were going to lose him, and there was nothing you could do or say to change it.

“When?”

He didn’t have to ask what you meant.

“Tomorrow. Three PM.”

New Year’s Eve. You were going to lose Bucky just in time for the world to celebrate a new beginning.

That’s when the sorrow wormed its way into your heart. It weighed on your shoulders like gravity, and you didn’t know how you could stand. The conversation was over, and you were left with a blank numbness that felt uncomfortably close to dissociation.

You wouldn’t eat. You refused to go home. The wizards allowed you to stay the night without much of a fuss, and you couldn’t even give them a thank you.

Bucky stayed with you through your detached state. He held your hand, rubbed your back, tried to assure you that everything would be fine. You didn’t say a word.

He tried to get you to sleep but you just lay curled on your side, trying to make yourself small enough to disappear. It wasn’t until about 5 in the morning that there was some stirring of life in you. You crawled over on top of Bucky and buried your face in his neck.

Breathing you in, Bucky hugged you tightly, wrapping his wings around you and created a safe, protective bubble just for the two of you. Only then, did you allow yourself to cry.

Next Chapter

#branded #bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky barnes #demon!bucky x reader #past stucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing

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insertdeeplyrics · 4 years

Text

On the ending of Supernatural

Hi, I’ve never actually posted anything on Tumblr of my own creation (I mostly reblog stuff), but I’ve just seen the ending of Supernatural, and given that this is where I’ve been fed my SPN content, it felt right to share my thoughts here. I’m sure nobody is going to read this, but whatever, I just need to get this out of my chest. Sorry in advance if this is too long, but I have to type this out if I want to move on.

I still need to take some time to process everything that’s happened, because it is a lot. I did have my hopes up for the finale, thinking that Cas would at least show up, but like many of the fans, I was let down.

So I guess that would be the first issue I had with the episode. Regardless of what Dean felt towards Cas, if he reciprocated his feelings or not (which he totally did, I mean, we have all been watching the same show for 12 fucking years, and if you don’t believe me, there are plenty of metas that would support this statement), he still is his best friend and it doesn’t sit right with me the fact that he doesn’t even try to find a way to rescue Cas from the Empty. And okay, maybe he didn’t, make Cas got resurrected by Jack, then why the hell wasn’t he on the final episode? He was a pivotal character for the series, I mean, the proof is in the ratings: Season 7, when he was killed off to apparently never return, the ratings were at their lowest. The show may have started as just Dean and Sam, but over the years it became much bigger than them, and it is so disappointing that the show runners failed to acknowledge it. But I’ll get back to this point later.

Okay, I need to talk about Dean’s death, the only part of the episode that made me cry, because my poor baby had to suffer so much! Like, when he started saying that Sam never put up with John’s crap (which reinforces my headcanon that John was abusive towards the boys) and how much he admired him for it, my heart just shattered. I just love Dean Winchester so freaking much, and they did him so dirty... Don’t get me wrong, Jensen and Jared’s acting was 10/10, like, I thought I had a grip of myself and then Sam started crying and tears came back to my eyes. Nonetheless, I felt that the scene was so freaking long! I mean, Dean was dying, and he had time to make a 10 minutes-long speech! C’mon! Also, I get that Sam and Dean’s relationship is quite deep and strong and whatever, but I felt a bit unconformable watching it: it didn’t feel like a brotherly goodbye, more like a lover’s one. They were too touchy and intimate, and, overall, their relationship from this point on was coded as a romantic one, in my opinion. And Chuck, did I hate it! I have an older brother and I know what it is like to be close to your sibling and to love him more than anything else in the world, but the way they portrayed their relationship on this last episode felt incest-y, which makes me believe that this scene was originally written with another character in mind (cough CAS cough) or the writers don’t know the difference between romantic and brotherly love. To finish off, the way they killed off Dean??? I mean, I did expect Dean to die, but this was such a horrible and ridiculous way to go... I would have accepted it if he died actually fighting, but impaled??? After all he’s been through, after fighting so many demons, angels and deities, that’s how he dies??? That just felt cheap and rushed. Dean did not deserve that ending and I refuse to accept it. In fact, I refuse to acknowledge the existence of this whole fucking mess of an episode. Also, I just can’t believe that no one showed up to Dean’s funeral. I just can’t. I get that maybe it was difficult to bring in a lot of actors due to the pandemic, but they could have added them on post-production...

Next, we have Sam’s ending. He quits hunting and finally obtains his white-picket fence life. I did like the fact that he honored all of his friends and family that he lost along the way, especially Dean. Like, yes, if my brother died, I would like to keep a token (don’t know if that’s the actual word for it, my first language is not English), to have something with me that reminded me of him and to have him with me wherever I go. And I did like that he named his son Dean, in honor of his brother. However, we don’t know how he met his wife, we don’t even know who she is. They set up Sameileen for what?? Like, Sam and Eileen deserved better, tbh. And, again, even with Covid restrictions they could have done something to signal that Sam got married to Eileen, you don’t need the actor there. In fact, we never actually found out what happened to her, and just like I can’t believe that Dean didn’t even try to save Cas from the Empty, I can’t believe that Sam didn’t reach out to Eileen. Furthermore, the montage with his son felt cheap and a way to try to appeal to the audience’s emotions... (Btw, as a side note, the grey wig and the glasses, my god, they did Jared dirty 😂😂). But it wasn’t doing it for me, I didn’t care much for the kid, and while I do believe that was always going to be Sam’s ending, I didn’t like how it was executed.

And the worst part of it all: that suuuuuper long scene with Dean driving in Heaven, waiting for Sam. They could have used that time to show something more meaningful, even to develop a bit more Sam’s new life, how he adjusted to domesticity and fatherhood and all that crap. Or, I don’t know, A TEAM FREE WILL 2.0 REUNION??? And I guess this is my biggest issue with the whole episode. I get it, Sam and Dean are the central characters, the ones that started it all, but family don’t end with blood, and they were not the only ones who deserved a goodbye. They had formed so many bonds and friendships over the years, and to not have them address them on the final episode just feels infuriating. Especially Cas. His arc was not finished, he deserved to be on the finale. We never got Dean’s reaction to his confession, we don’t know how he felt about him, nor did Cas get to say goodbye to any other character. How did he get out of the Empty? What is he doing now? Is he still an angel? Also, he gave his life to save Dean, only for Dean to be killed not long after. My headcanon that is helping me cope with Dean’s death is thinking that he was so quick to accept his death because he was hoping to reunite in Heaven with Castiel. A girl can dream, ok??? But also, what about Jack? He is the new God, but I highly doubt it that he won’t drop by the Bunker from time to time, after all, Sam and Dean (AND CAS, ESPECIALLY CAS) raised him. And Charlie? Did she get back with Stevie? Did she and the boys go for drinks from time to time? And Jody? Donna? Claire? Sorry to be so repetitive, but I just can’t understand why the writers thought that these characters weren’t important enough to deserve a spot on the finale, and not just an off-hand mention (and not even all of them got that). Of course, the brothers are the main characters and their goodbye must be the longest and the most emotional of them all, but like I said before, the show stopped being just about the Winchesters on season 3, when Bobby was first introduced, maybe even 4, with Cas.

Overall, the finale left a lot of questions unanswered, most of them regarding secondary characters (but not less important for that!), completely destroyed Sam and Dean’s character development (Dean never got to be free, like he had been fighting for all season, probably all his life; Sam’s development is non-existing, as he ended up as he would’ve if he never had gotten on that hunting trip with Dean 15 years ago), and completely disregarded all the themes they had been setting up this season, probably on previous ones as well. It is sad knowing that the writers, either don’t know the show good enough to give it a proper goodbye, or they just didn’t care to do so. I don’t know who’s to blame here (definitely not the actors, though, probably someone higher up the chain), but I just know that I am so fucking disappointed. I expected more from the last episode of a 15-season TV show, one that has been part of my life for 7 years. I guess, that despite all of it, I can’t hate Supernatural. Maybe I was not a hardcore fan like some people on this site, but I did care for the characters and what happened to them. This is the show that introduced me to the world of shipping (Destiel will always hold a special place in my heart, it doesn’t matter how badly their relationship was treated, as well as the characters) and I got to discover one of my favorite characters, Dean Winchester. He is just such so complex, one that I relate to on so many levels, and his relationship with Cas has been the source of many short stories that I’ve never posted anywhere, but that have made me take up writing again. That’s the reason why I love the show so much, it has helped me tap into my creativeness and go back to writing, a passion of mine that I seem to have forgotten over the years. Anyways, maybe one day I’ll publish some of those stories, and maybe even write my own fix-it fanfic, but right now, I can’t deal with anything that has to do with the show, I am too hurt. Maybe once the five stages of grief are over, I might give it a try and read all of the amazing codas and fanfics that I’m sure will be posted here or on AO3. But for now, Supernatural is dead and gone, and I don’t want to talk nor think about it anymore. I’m done wasting my time here, because I feel like that’s what I’ve been doing this past 7 years after watching this crap of a finale.

To finish this long rant off, I just want to say thank you to some meta-writers, the true heroes of the fandom. Thanks to them, I carried on watching the show, because they made me have hope that things will get better. They are the ones that have made this experience worth something, and even though I’ve never spoken to any of them, I see you and I love you. Thanks for everything ❤.

@tinkdw @charlie-minion @dotthings @heliodean @verobatto-angelxhunter @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

#supernatural #spn s15 #spn #carry on #destiel #supernatural finale #personal rant #dean is bi #dean winchester #sam winchester #disappointed #dean winchester deserved better #destiel forever #jack also deserved better #every fucking character deserved better #character development who? don't know her #castiel #spn spoilers #spn 15x20

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treasureswordsgirl55 · 3 years

Text

First Dance Since 1943

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Inspired by (song): I still don’t remember it, actually 😬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Fem!StarkScientist Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dancing at Work. Insecurities. Jokes. Memories.

Author's Note: Hello!!! I hope you're ok today ❤️.

First of all, thanks you for all the replies on my last Fics! Really that is very appreciated 😍

This fic was the first that I ve write with Bucky when the series came out, so... This was the first steps of my new (lost) love about Bucky (And Sebastian too)

I hope you like this one!!!

XOXO ❤️

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

- Leslie - He raised his head as soon as he heard Joaquín's voice and gave him a smile when he saw him poke his head through the door of my office, even though it is transparent - I bring Sam with me so you can take a look at Redwing.

- It will be my pleasure - I mutter as I type a quick reply to Agent Johnson about the malfunction of Agent Sousa's new pistol. Men who come from bygone ages have serious problems with modern technology - How can I help you?

He looked up from the laptop and my eyes meet that sad look that my dreams seemed to reflect conscientiously. The owner of those blue eyes and painful memories sees me with a hint of a smile while his partner holds Redwing as if I were going to touch him just to detonate him.

- I want it to be clear that I let you intervene with him only because Torres made it clear to me that you worked for Stark.

I give a laugh that reflects my nervousness as I turn to Bucky.

- Sergeant Barnes.

- Hey. How have you been, Leslie? - The way my name sounds in his voice, which is seductive without even looking for it makes him feel that my legs melt like jelly at those words.

- Busy with so much work - I reach out to Sam making a mental note of how good that blue shirt looks on Bucky and coming to the conclusion that men who come from 1940 like the color blue - What is it? What it's the problem?

- The laser was decalibrated. I wanted to repair it but it was impossible.

- If you let me examine it, at most I will have it ready in a couple of hours - The soldier nods somewhat suspiciously but takes a step back as soon as I take that small device. - The dream of any woman, to fix one of the many work items of the Avengers.

Sam laughs as he begins to explain that he is no longer part of the Avengers as many believe. To all this, Bucky, as I allow myself to call him in my thoughts, is in silence, leaning against one of the many glass walls of the room, looking out of the building and I do not doubt for a second when I believe that he was not paying attention in the least to our conversation.

Joaquín's voice interrupts my thoughts and from the smile he brings, I know that every time he meets these two men, he considers himself one of the luckiest beings in the universe.

- Excuse me, Sam - The two men turn around as I turn the little drone and see the typical signs that this prototype of Stark technology is very poorly maintained. I make a mental note not to say that to Sam and concentrate on fixing the laser as I hear them being called from "Higher Spheres" as I call high-ranking Air Force people - They need you, there's a new report on the mission in Libya.

- Take good care of him, Leslie - I nodded smiling without looking up and muttered a "Better than you, sure" that was only audible to me.

If there was one thing he hated about Stark technologies, it was that, in addition to having the F.R.I.D.A.Y tech matrix, and without it, he couldn't do much more than touch some cables and hope the little drone would work. And i prayed that would work, otherwise i would have to ask Pepper for permission to use her facilities, but Sam would flatly refuse to take Redwing to Stark Industries.

- He screwed it up, didn't he?

I jerked my head up when I heard Bucky's voice and when I looked at him, he was still in the same position as before, looking outside the building.

- I thought you had left with Sam ...

- Excuse me, I did not want to scare you - He approached the table where i was working and indicated the drone with his metal arm, which he no longer hid under layers of clothing, much less, leather gloves - He treats that drone very badly .

- Sorry?

- Do you think that murmur was imperceptible only for you? I assure you that Sam heard it too- I cursed as he dropped the tools i had in my hands and covered my face with both, wishing that the earth would open and swallow me, as a minimum option.

- Why didn't you go with Sam? and please do not get me wrong, I like the company and I like that you are here, but it is simple curiosity - I cursed myself internally as I listened over and over again to the words that I had said aloud and I wanted the earth to pity me again and swallow me. Definitely Joaquín's idea of just nodding and not talking was an excellent idea to implement.

Had I told him out loud that I liked him being there? Oh my God…

- This is Sam's land, I don't fit in here.

- And yet, here you are - I take Redwing and walk to the testing room of the laboratory that is adjacent to my office, where the music begins to play as soon as I enter the small room and as much as I want to deactivate it, I can not do it. I resign myself as soon as I hear Bucky's footsteps behind me and as soon as he enters the room, it seems too small with him there. I put the drone on the long metal table that occupies a large part of it and I type the password in the auxiliary panel of one of the screens around me and the little drone turns on, taking flight a few meters above our heads - At least It leaves me happy that I still fly with all those blows.

- I'm surprised that it's still whole - Bucky's murmur makes me laugh as I calibrate the laser to shoot the target in front of him. I try to shoot but nothing happens. I curse silently as I see from the corner of my eye that the man cautiously observes the room, as he stops when the first melodies of “She's got a Way” by Billy Joel begin to play- Do you like the music of the 20th century?

- I'll tell you the truth: I don't like current music, I prefer the lyrics of 1980s artists where they say heartfelt things rather than the lyrics that speak about certain topics in a very direct way. 1980 was a very good time, maybe you would like it.

- I have a list of songs on Spotify that I listened to in the 40's. I thought I couldn't find them again - The hint of melancholy that invades his voice makes for a moment that I wanted to meet that 23-year-old young man who should be very different from the one in front of me, with a totally different way of being and without all the suffering that would happen later - What if, that was when I learned to use a computer.

- You know, you would get along with Agent Sousa from SWORD - He turned at the mention of the new agency with a frown, clearly annoyed at the idea of interacting with another agency. - He's just like you, technically speaking.

- He went through psychological torture and became a Hydra assassin? -The sincerity and ease with which those words came out of his mouth made my eyes fill with tears. The pain in his voice made my words sound clearly wrong in that conversation.

- No ... He also comes from an ancient time, like you and Steve. Only Daniel was taken out of 1955 because of Agent Coulson and his feeling of not being able to let him die in front of his eyes - Bucky nodded as he stood next to me again and watched my movements on the screen trying to get Redwing to respond, something that did not happen - Perhaps it would do them good to chat between the two ... You are not from the same era, but I imagine that their feelings towards this century are similar, and both are adapting. You can get to understand each other more than they think.

- I will keep it in mind…. Thank you, Doll - I felt the heat begin to rise up my neck at that nickname and I assumed that my cheeks must be a scarlet red color, because, despite the fact that it was cold in that room, I felt that I was on fire - I all this is strange, even though I know this technology, it is difficult for me not to relate it to all this - Unconsciously, he touches his metal arm and I let out a sigh. I'd like to know how to help him get through that, but I don't know how to do it without bringing up bad memories.

- Is there something you like?

- What are you talking about? - I put aside the PADD I had in my hands and touched the "Stand By" button for Redwing to return to his original position in the center of the table.

- Sometimes, learning becomes easier when there is something you like - I lean on the table while he remains silent and I watch him waiting for his answer, but all I get is a smile about something he is thinking - What makes you smile?

- Dance. I haven't danced in a long time. Since 1943, to be exact - He leans on the other end of the table, facing me exactly and gives me a look with a flash of mischief - And I'm not going to those places that they call discos to dance with someone.

I laughed at his tone of indignation, when I could contain my laughter, I saw him watching me with what seemed like affection, but I tried not to give it too much importance, but when I felt that my heart was going to leave my chest so hard it hit my rib cage.

- Why that tone against the discos?

- The music is too loud and there are colored lights that I don't even know what they are called, plus you can't talk to anyone - I laughed again at his complaints that were very sincere and were very similar to mine - Don't make fun of me.

- I do not, I am funny the tone you use. You seem really annoyed with it - Bucky rolls his eyes and taps on the table - What do you miss most about 1940?

- Everything, my family, my friends, my life ... The way I could go to an amusement park and not have to worry about whoever saw me wanted to run out of fear, when I could take a girl on a date without I would worry about my past, dancing with someone, that closeness that made me so comfortable and so relaxing at the same time.

- Well, at least the dance thing can be fixed - I take my iPhone out of my pocket and search the playlist for Eric Clapton's song, Wonderful Tonight and once the notes start to play, I walk over to Bucky, holding out my hand towards him, in an attack of courage, the kind that I don't usually have, but all that was to get a smile from the owner of those beautiful sad eyes - Would you dance this song with me?

Although I notice that my actions catch him off guard, he smiles at me and takes my hand, nodding his head.

When the two of us are standing in front of each other, I realize that I don't know where to put my hands, much less stop to think if that could be uncomfortable for him. I wanted to back away, looking for a good enough excuse before falling into the misfortune of having to apologize to him, but Bucky, who will have simply seen my worried expression, took my free hand and brought it to his forearm, and laid it there gently, While with his right hand he held mine, and with his metal arm, he encircled my waist, drawing me close to him. We began to move slowly to the beat of the music, but he was definitely the one leading the way.

- How does it feel to dance decently again? - I was silent at the inappropriate comment and let out a sigh while I concentrated on trying not to step on it.

- It feels strange to do it after a long time - Bucky ignores my comment or downplays it, but when I look at him, I realize that he is concentrating on remembering the steps and trying to guide the inexperienced woman in front of him.

- To do it a long time ago, you do it very well - He shakes his head, trying not to smile, and before I even knew it, he released one of my hands and made me turn, taking my hand perfectly synchronized at the end of it.

- If Steve were here, I'd say it's innate ability.

- Well, if he makes you feel more comfortable, this is my first time dancing with someone, that is, I dance with a man. And I must admit that I never believed it would be in my workplace.

- Why's that? - I let out a sigh as I watch him at the same time that he looks towards the laboratory door. When he looks back at me, in his blue eyes I can see a flicker of doubt and curiosity.

Anyone could feel safe with my poor social and love life.

- It's weird to dance in your workplace. Everyone here is watching you from the other side of the glass and ...

- I meant because you never danced with anyone - Oh ... I drop my head until it almost touches his chest, but I feel that the pressure of his arm grows stronger around my waist, as if he knows that I am about to fall and I won't notice - I'm sorry if the question bothers you.

- No, no, he doesn't. What happens is that I'm not usually the type of girl who gets asked to dance. Besides, I don't like going to the disco or going out at night. In that respect I am similar to you - I admit while he gives me a smirk - I prefer to stay home and read. Or spend time with my cat.

- Intellectuals are the best - Bucky's voice sounds annoying and safe at the same time, as if something in his own words bothered him.

- But the less interesting for the men of this time apparently, more when they talk a lot about science and current affairs - Between the chords of the music, I get him to laugh. And I must admit, he has a beautiful smile, one of the prettiest I have ever seen, in fact. I start to laugh and in the midst of my laughter, he spins me around again at the same time the song ends.

- Not for me. Are you sure you didn't come out of the 40's like me? - We don't even part, and our hands are still joined as I shake my head.

I smile as I take a step away from him as I pick up my cell phone to stop the music and see him approach the window again.

- No, but I think I was born at the wrong time.

- Thanks for this - his murmur reaches me far away, but with a clear hint of satisfaction in his voice. I smile happy to have served my purpose.

- Thanks to you, at least I have experienced what it feels like to dance with someone.

- You will do it more often, trust me.

- I take the word.

Sam who had arrived at the scene a few minutes before with Torres, smiled as he watched the whole scene and remembered those days when he took advantage of Steve's innocence with women and smiled wistfully when he realized that Bucky was the clear image of his best friend. Seeing him for a moment concentrating on something other than work filled him with satisfaction, perhaps Joaquín's idea of bringing him here hadn't been so bad after all.

Then he would take advantage of letting him know of his observations when the two of them were alone.

I turn towards the door as soon as I hear a series of light knocks and I meet Sam's mischievous smile, who sees me as if he had discovered gold or something much more valuable.

- I'm so sorry to interrupt, but we have work, Buck.

- Sure - Bucky turns to where I am and before he could even move me away, he takes one of my hands and leaves a kiss on it. I can barely contain the sigh that tries to escape from my lips and I simply remain silent, feeling how the color begins to invade my cheeks, in the company of the heat - Thanks for the dance.

- My pleasure, Sergeant Barnes.

Sam, who is behind us, rolls his eyes and leans against the door while Bucky approaches him with a heavy sigh - Don't even think about making jokes about this.

- Did I say something? - I let out a laugh at his comical and ironic tone as Bucky walks past him shaking his head. "See you later, Leslie." I need to make some arrangements on the suit.

- Yes Sir.

Sam glares at me as Torres chuckles at my horrified expression. I forgot he don't like me calling him sir.

- Sorry, Sam.

After a few minutes, I find myself alone again, so I return to the laboratory to work on Redwing and allow myself to release that sigh that I have been holding since Bucky appeared in that room.

That moment had been incredible ... Even if it was only that, a moment that will remain in my head.

I startle as soon as I hear a knock on the door, I take off the receiver and as soon as I turn around, I see that the one at the door is Bucky, who has his left hand hidden behind his back.

- You know, "Sergeant" is very formal - he leaves his left hand exposed and has a white flower on it. I doubt if I approach but I do it feeling that the colors begin to invade my face. No one had never given me flowers. That gesture was beautiful, I take it and I respond with a smile - Call me James.

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