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#HELP LMAO I searched “sobbing” and then “crying” in the GIFs
scorpiotrait · 10 months
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Jonquil: (holds baby) Baby: (is hold)
me:
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crypticcowboys · 5 months
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omg hi !!! i just read ur new mike hc and OMG ITS SO CUTHEUERU will cry everyday thinking abt it. but i also saw that ur requests are open for mike and i’ve been DYING FOR SOME MIKE SCHMIDT FICS the rage abt him was too short😔 i was thinking something similar with the hc that you already have but with a little angst? maybe him waking up from a bad dream and just needing his gf? i just wanna see some domesticity with him and abby and just the gf taking care of them just to help him a little THE MAN NEEDS A BREAK PLS idk i think it would be super sweet. i hope ur having a good day!! if u don’t wanna take up this request that is totally a-o-kay🩷
a/n: i am so sorry. i completely forgot about this sizzling in my inbox and it has now been SEVEN MONTHS since this movie's release. but this was such a cute idea, i needed to finish it!! im so sorry and i apologize if youve moved on from this man omg LMAO pairing : mike schmidt x gn!reader warnings : kind of heavy angst w/delving into mike's thought process, mentions of nightmares, otherwise fluff. partly proofread. SPOILERS! (but you guys... probably dont need the warning by now, right?)
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mike's nightmares (dreams?) about garrett didn't really... go away after everything that happened at freddy's. sure, it gave him some ounce of comfort knowing that he'd found the man who took his brother-- one of his lifelines, away from him, and also knowing that the same man who took his brother was now dead. but regardless, it didn't take the memories nor the guilt away. mike is, and has always been convinced that everything bad leading up to now must've been his fault. starting with garrett, all the way up to vanessa's coma, no matter how many times you've told him otherwise.
and that lingering guilt seeps into his dreams, too. he's had less dreams about garrett, and he's slowly started to have actual stupid, brief, 'normal' dreams that he can't even remember once he wakes up ever since he stopped taking the ambien; he could now safely fall asleep to the sounds of your breathing, the soothing motions of your hands in his hair, and the crickets outside rather than the repetitive nature sounds on the walkman. but when the dreams about garrett happen, they're... different. they aren't the same sequence that would usually happen in his dreams like before. he can't even remember what happens in them anymore, his memory fading as soon as he wakes up as if he hadn't dreamt anything at all-- but he's always waking up with sweat condensed on his brow, his heart racing out of his chest, and a lingering feeling of dread tugging at his heart, always feeling like somebody was watching him. he'd often wake up with a gasp, or a brief shout. it brought an aching feeling like no ofher— and while he doesn't remember the dreams anymore, the aching feeling is still the same he used to get when he was searching for why, and who kidnapped his brother. and there's another overwhelming feeling of guilt too— how could he ever even think of trading his sister for garrett?
sometimes you wake up from his violent shudders or sobbing, sometimes you don't. and when you do, you're there in a heartbeat-- your body moving faster than your sluggish, tired brain to pull him close and hug him tightly into your chest as he sobs incoherent words, not caring about his cries moving through the thin walls. he'll always apologize no matter how many times you tell him that there's no need to. he woke you up. shouldn't he feel bad about that? he just doesn't want to inconvenience you anymore. but you're pulling him out of his thoughts quickly, comforting him before he even gets a chance to regret waking you up.
it doesn't take him long to calm down whenever you're around to hold him, just like how he needed. the both of you breathing softly, the only sounds audible being your heartbeat and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees outside. quiet, just what mike needed. just like what he craved, with you.
"'m so tired." he'd whisper, blinking slowly as he traced absentminded patterns on the skin of your collarbone, the repetition soothing him. he always liked doing that. and he liked when you did the same thing with him.
"i know." you'd whisper back— and he didn't need to head anything else to feel your overwhelming care for him. it was still so confusing for him to adjust to— the fact that you wanted him even after all of the fucked up shit he went through. no— you didn't just want him, you loved him. held him without a care in the world, and you'd do it in a heartbeat. you learned his body language— knowing exactly what he needed and when. you were his home— you and abby were his home.
one morning, he's waking up alone. not really something that concerned him— you had stuff to do. like work, taking abby to school when you insisted he stay home and rest. he rubs his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling for a bit longer before pushing himself out of bed— there's no use in dwelling on last night, anyways.
mike shuffles out of bed with a yawn, scratching at the skin riding up on his shirt before feeling something wrap around him at torso level. he looks down, and it's abby. he gives her a small smile, bending down slightly to wrap his arms around her, and she giggles. "i'm not supposed to say anything." she whispers, rocking back on her feet slightly. okaaay... secrets right when he woke up, just what he needed. but he smells something good— pancakes? that has him shuffling right into the kitchen, staring at you tending to the stove, the perfect image of domesticity.
as abby's shuffling into the living room to go watch labrynth once more, mike paddles behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, giving a small kiss to your collarbone as he's staring down at your perfect hands, watching you make breakfast. usually he was the one to make breakfast— what was the special occasion? "i'm guessing this is what abby was being secretive about?" he grinned softly, breathing in the warm scent of your hair. soft. you were soft.
"i told her she wasn't supposed to say anything." you replied back, giving a soft 'hmph' as you eyed abby from the kitchen with a soft smile on your face, turning the heat off to the stove before turning around to face your boyfriend. the eggs were done cooking, anyways. "just... thought i'd do something nice for you. let you sleep in a little." your voice was soft, held implications of last night's nightmares shaking mike violently awake. he... didn't get much sleep whenever they happened. his eyes fluttered softly at the feeling of your hands carding through his hair again, and he's already about to fall asleep right at the stove.
you're prepared for him to pout, claim that breakfast was his job and that you shouldn't have gotten out of bed so early with the fact that you had so much stuff to do. but instead— he gives you a soft, bashful smile as he grabs your hand gently, kissing your palm. "thank you. y'know I love you, right?" he whispered, giving you a gentle peck on your lips. fuck morning breath.
"i love you." you whispered back, moving to lean in another time before you're hearing a dramatic gag from the living room, coming from abby. you and mike are scoffing with soft grins as the both of you depart from eachother— but still never looking away.
he never really worried about his nightmares after that, anyway.
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kennediffed · 1 year
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When You Can't Sleep At Night
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Description: Leon comes home to you having a rough night and does what he does best. Aka some short, self indulgent Leon fluff cause I can and I will.
Word Count: 554
Content: Comfort after a nightmare, Post RE2/Pre RE4, No use of pronouns for reader
Hi there, I originally wrote this for AO3 shortly before the RE4 Remake came out and posted it way after that, but wanted to see if it would do a bit better on tumblr, so I did what any normal person would do and made an alternate account specifically for writing lmao
AO3 Link Here
Leon kicked off his shoes as he entered the mostly silent apartment he shared with you. He got off from work earlier than expected and decided to get takeout for the both of you. The only thing he heard was soft music coming from the opposite side of the apartment and the rain gently plinking against the windows. 
“(Name)? I’m home” he called out as he placed the plastic bag on the linoleum countertop. Should he search for you? You were usually there when he got back from work, maybe you were sleeping? He had a habit of worrying when you weren’t around when you got back, and it increasingly grew as he got out some plates to put the food on.
Placing the rest of the stuff for dinner on the counter, he then decided it was time to try to find you. He had a feeling where you were because he silently started walking and as he grew closer to the source of the music, he could hear some muffled crying from the opposite side of the door. The sound only grew louder as he slowly opened the door to your shared bedroom.
“(Name)?” he quietly called out. The first thing he saw was a blanket lump on the bed, which slightly shifted when your name was called you. You both made eye contact. You must’ve looked like you were crying for hours at that point because his face immediately grew with concern.
“L-Leon?”
“Oh, honey…” he breathed out, immediately going towards the bed and pushing back the covers so he could do what he did best, comfort you. Pressing his body against yours and wrapping his arms around you, you couldn't help but do the same, letting out some more sobs you didn't know you were still holding in.
“Another nightmare?” he inquired, slowly rubbing your back with his thumb. He knew they were common with you, especially after what happened in Raccoon City. Luckily, he also had experience with how to handle them when you did have them. All you could muster out was a nod. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
You slowly exhaled
“I… saw you die… right in front of me, a-and I couldn’t do anything other than watch” you sobbed, burying your face into his chest.
“Shhh, it's okay… I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” he reaffirmed, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
You both lied there in silence for a couple minutes before Leon spoke up.
“I uh… got us some food. Do you want me to bring it in here and we can talk more about what happened in your nightmare if you’re comfortable with it?”
There he went again, Leon Scott, always making sure you're alright. Gods, you didn't deserve him.
“Y-yeah, I’d like that.”
You felt his lips curl up into a smile as he pressed another kiss, this time to your forehead, before rolling out of bed to go grab that takeout. You wrapped yourself with the blanket again as you watched him leave.
“Leon?” you stopped him before he left the room.
He turned to look at you, his eyes lit up with concern.
“Thank you, I love you.” you softly said
He let out a small laugh followed by a soft smile.
“I love you too.”
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kennathegaefrog · 11 months
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Heart Belongs to Another
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Warnings: gorey, mentions of cheating and stab wounds
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An: very self indulgent, I love writing about cheaters and violence lmao. I had this sitting in my notes for a while. Also I had been thinking an writing using you and I pronouns for a long time prior to this post
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I wanted to know who you saw when you closed your eyes and smiled.
I wanted to know who you dreamed of when you were in my bed. I wanted to know who was on your mind when you were on mine.
You look at me in horror. Eyes fixated on the sharp blade I hold against your skin.
“You did this to me, you know. You chose your fate, I’m only here to bring it to you,” I say tears pouring down my face, smudging my mascara.
I take a deep gulp before I look into your eyes.
“You caused this,” I say as I plunge the blade into your gut, over and over. Crimson soaking your white shirt tainting it, just like you tainted me.
Blood pours out of your mouth as you gag. You spit blood into my face as you sob, your blood and tears mixing.
“Why, why?” You gasp out crying my name.
You choke out a rather loud sob and I shake my head. My eyes widen when I glance at the blood drenched blade in my hands. They then avert to the stab wounds in your gut. I drop the blade like it’s fire. I clutch your body, searching for any sign of warmth as your body falls limp in my arms.
You whisper once more, “Why?”.
“Because I was the one at home, waiting for you at the door, whilst you loved another! Because I craved your warmth whereas you despised mine! Because you called out her name whilst dreaming! Because my heart was yours and yours would never be mine!” I shout getting louder and louder, but it’s already too late.
You lay limp and cold in my arms. Your eyes unmoving. Your name leaves my mouth, one single wish.
Your heart.
But I could never have it.
Because your heart belonged to another.
Because it belonged to her.
Because you breathed for her.
Misleading me for years, when all you wanted was her.
And you had her and she had you.
And I had nothing, just the empty, hollow and leftover pieces of your love.
You brought this ending on yourself, sweetheart. I helped you fulfill your destiny. And now I must face mine.
I sink to the floor, your body buried in my chest. I grab the blade once more and close my eyes before sinking it into my heart.
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heliads · 2 years
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I love love love your stories with Newt, thank you so much for writing them, i was thinking if I can request one? Just a simple thing with hurt/comfort and some angst. My idea is that reader does something that threatens her life, maybe she's the one that runs to help Minho in the maze at night (whatever, you decide really). But after that, when she comes back, Newt is furious, because he was SO worried that that was it, that he would lose her; so when she comes back he starts scolding her, but in the middle of the argument his eyes start to get all teary, and he just realizes he's crying after the first tear falls. Then despite him being stubborn and trying to avoid it, the reader just hugs him and holds him tightly until he calms down, this makes him break and cling to her, and he just sobs on her shoulder because he thought he would never see her again. Then just some cute moments and maybe his feelings getting spilled. Thank you, I'm excited to read it, you're awesome 💖
no you're awesome, anon! also i'm glad you like the newt fics bc like five requests for him came in during the last week, so you get a lot of newt content lmao
masterlist
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You could spend your whole life wondering if you would never know what it feels like to be alive. Really, properly alive, that is, not this dreary day to day surviving that makes up most of your days in the Glade. You have a pulse, your blood is still good enough to force your heart through yet another set of paces, but it’s not enough. You don’t know that it will ever be enough.
Perhaps it’s the lack of freedom that keeps making you feel this way. You certainly have enough exertion in your life to give you probable cause to feel something a little stronger. After all, you and your fellow Gladers are the only things keeping you from certain death. Despite your best efforts, though, you cannot shake the obvious truth that you are in a prison, and that prison will keep you tied down until the day you die. In the life you lead, that may come sooner than you think.
Death is common enough in the Glade, as evident by the small graveyard in the back of the Deadheads. It should be enough to convince you of the merit of your own life, to let you seize the day because you know quite well that it may be your last. Still, your hours peter off into drudgery, and you cannot make yourself believe that any one of your days are worth the effort you put into them.
Shouting voices echo around you like the calls of birds, and you dimly realize that this must mark the end of the work day. Everyone has been released from their shifts at last. Most of the boys head over to their friends, slinging arms around shoulders and sharing what happened to them during the past few hours, all the jokes that have been quietly stewing in their heads now begging to be spoken aloud for greatest comedic effect.
Not all of the Gladers seem so happy to be off work, though. It’s not like they’re begging to be let back into their daily jobs, they’re just more like you, more apathetic. You wrap up the task you were doing before break was called and head out, rambling aimlessly through the Glade in search of something to fill your hours.
You used to be more like the more exuberant Gladers once, but you’ve been here for what’s coming up on three years. Despite all the work it takes to maintain the place, the Glade is small, and you can feel the walls of the Maze bearing down on you, forcing you to stay in place. You made your jokes a long time ago, their fountains of cheer have now run dry. There are no hilarious anecdotes left in you, just a deep, shifting weight of too much time on your hands.
You’re still not alone, though, despite your best assumptions. Soon enough, you’re greeted by your own name shouted aloud, your own friend coming up to grin at you. Newt’s been here almost as long as you have, yet he still finds a way to make his days worth something. There was a time, once, when he couldn’t. Neither of you dare to bring it up, but your eyes still flicker over to his bad leg every now and then when you’re sure he can’t see it.
Newt, in his tenure, has learned to read you just as well as the grounds of the Glade. He taps a hand lightly against your shoulder blade to get your attention.
“What’s up with you?” He asks, frowning slightly. “You seem more tired than normal. Sleep alright?”
You lift a shoulder. “Sleep was fine. It’s just– I’m sick of this place, you know? Nothing ever changes.”
“Repetition keeps us safe,” Newt reminds you, “I’m more worried about what happens when things start changing.”
You sigh. “I know. I’m glad to be alive, obviously, but how long are we supposed to be here, doing all this? The Creators had to have put us in here for a reason, but I just don’t get it.”
Newt nods slowly. “I’ve been thinking a lot of the same things. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, though. When the time comes and our situation starts shifting, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”
He says his last bit with a sort of smile, and once again you’re amazed by how he’s able to stay positive so easily. If there is a pessimistic bone in his body, Newt is able to cover it up with the grace of a master illusionist.
Unable to hold your tongue, you ask him about it. “How are you able to do that? Stay so happy about everything, I mean. Why is your patience still intact?”
Newt chuckles. “I have a fairly good reason to make my days matter.”
He doesn’t clarify on what that means, but his eyes linger on you a second longer than normal. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, but force yourself to glance away lest you think too much into it.
Newt’s not wrong about the changes, though. The next Greenie Day is as normal as they come, even if the latest arrival tries to hurl himself into the Maze the second he appears. Thomas seems like he’ll be a fine addition to the Glade, all up until another Greenie arrives the next day. She’s unconscious, although between the fact that she knows Thomas’ name and comes bearing a note that says she’ll be the last one, ever, you’re not liking your odds that this will be quickly forgotten.
You and Newt spend your hours talking this latest development over with Alby. The three of you have been here the longest, or at least the longest of the surviving Gladers, but even your shared experience can’t come up with much explanation of what to do next. All that remains is to stay calm and hope that an avenue of escape presents itself as soon as possible.
Maybe that’s why Alby was so eager to go into the Maze the second Minho showed up one afternoon, out of breath and talking about having found a dead Griever. It’s another change, and everyone’s already on edge from the new girl’s arrival. A dead Griever could mean many things, but if it even hints at a way out, Alby feels that he has to see it for himself.
In the end, you’re not sure if he was right or wrong to visit the corpse of the Griever. Alby and Minho stay in the Maze longer and longer, to the point where a small group of Gladers starts clustering around the Doors to see if they’re coming or not. Although the gathering starts small, enough people head there after work that almost the entire population of the Glade, minus Teresa and a few others, finds themselves camped outside the gap in the stone walls.
Newt exchanges glances with you, both of you piercingly aware of the fact that Alby and Minho may not make it out. In that case, responsibility for leading the Glade will fall to Newt, but neither of you are remotely concerned with a sudden promotion, more what the loss of two of your closest friends will feel like. Although you hoped for change, this is too much.
Eventually, you see them, two straggling figures appearing around the corner of the far wall of the Maze. The Gladers erupt in shouts and cheers, begging them to have the strength to return home through volume and spirit alone. Even with the added motivation, though, you can tell that it’s no use. The time has come for the Doors to close, there’s no way your friends can make it back in time. Minho is almost carrying an unconscious Alby, he won’t be able to get both of them through the Doors.
It takes the Doors themselves starting to close to convince you of what you have to do. You won’t let your friends die here, not if there’s something you can do about it, no matter how small. You haven’t lived in a long time, too caught up in the monotony of having to survive, so at least now you can die for a purpose.
You look at Newt one last time before you go. He knows what you’re going to do, you think, you can see the flare of panic starting to rise in his eyes. Even Newt’s split second reaction is too slow, though, and you’re running through the Doors before he can pull you back.
The Doors slam shut behind you with a sickening thud. Minho looks horrified that you’d risk your life to try and save him and Alby, but you think that some selfish part of him is secretly glad that he won’t have to die alone. You help him hide Alby in some broken off hole in one of the Maze walls, but after that, the two of you have nothing to do except try not to die.
A few hours into the whole mess, you realize that you were wrong, terribly wrong. Dying will not make you feel alive, even in the midst of a glorious self sacrifice to save one of the few boys you’ve known the longest, it just makes you finally understand how much you’ll be losing.
For once, you want nothing more than to delve back into that safe, sheltered monotony. Let the sun shine on your face once more, let you walk to dinner complaining with Newt about how the Builders can’t seem to stop themselves from causing fights. Even something so simple as waking up in your own hammock seems like a miracle right now.
It’s there in that moment, running as fast as you can away from terrifying Grievers, that you fundamentally change your perspective on life as you know it. Your world does not have to be exciting or dangerous for you to feel like you’re truly living, it just has to be good, and what you had before was indeed good.
You use that bright spark of a realization to power you through the night. You’re getting out alive, damn it, no matter what it takes. You and Minho will survive, even if the odds are stacked against you. 
Despite your best words of encouragement, you’re still stunned to see the light of dawn filter across the sky. Making it through a night in the Maze is impossible, it always has been. Yet tonight, you and Minho set a new record. It feels amazing.
The two of you take up your positions near the Doors when the time comes. The stone slabs slide away, revealing a frazzled cluster of Gladers waiting for your arrival. The cheers and sighs of relief when your friends realize that you and Minho are alright is like nothing you’ve ever heard before, and you silently beat it into your mind that this is something worth remembering. This celebration is what living truly feels like.
You only allow yourself to relax once Alby is taken away by the Med-Jacks, and slump into your hammock for some much needed rest. For once, the dreamless sleep is all you’ve ever wanted, and you wake several hours later feeling peaceful, although not fully recovered.
As you pass Gladers and friends throughout the day, you’re met with proud smiles and fascinated whispers. Most of them are amazed that you survived, or simply in awe, although you think some are unnerved by it all. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for change, although more than a few Gladers are wary of it.
The one reaction you didn't expect, though, comes later. You’ve been looking for Newt all morning, ever since you saw him in that group waiting for you outside the Doors, but you’ve never gotten a chance to actually speak to him. Every time you try, he melts back into the crowds.
Your time comes later in the morning. You spot him walking through the Deadheads to grab more wood, and eagerly chase him down. You hadn’t realized how much you missed him, even in the few hours since you saw him last, but you’re still overcome with a wave of emotions upon coming face to face with him.
Newt, however, doesn’t seem as enthralled as you are. In fact, he looks almost angry. When he sees you, he throws down his load of lumber with far more irritation than you were expecting, making your steps slow in surprise.
Newt folds his now empty arms across his chest. “So, you made it out.”
You nod hesitantly. “Yes. Some might consider that a cause for celebration, but you look like–”
Unable to control his temper, Newt cuts you off. “What, like you broke a rule? You did, by the way. Non-Runners aren’t allowed in the Maze.”
You laugh incredulously, a sharp sound. “I was saving Minho and Alby. I did what I had to do to protect them.”
Newt scoffs. “And what about me? What about the rest of us, for that matter? You were supposed to die in there, all for nothing. I thought that was it for you. I thought I was going to lose you, all because you made the terrible decision to be a martyr. I can’t– I won’t–”
His words start freezing up in his throat, and you realize a moment before the first tear falls that he’s crying. Newt drags a frustrated hand over his eyes, but it’s too late, you’ve seen the damage. You’ve seen what you did to him by leaving.
Newt is starting to turn away, but you refuse to let this be the way the conversation ends, so you rush over to him and throw your arms around him. He tries to push you off by impulse, but you don’t budge and eventually he just sighs and pulls you closer to him. He smells the same way he always has, bright sunshine and freshly cut grass, although this time it’s tainted by salt from both his tears and yours.
You’re crying too, you realize, both of you choking on sobs because that is the worst punishment in the end, to have to lose the other. You discovered that when you were running for your life in the Maze, but Newt knew from the moment the Doors closed between the two of you.
You manage to gasp out words in between your tears. “I’m not going anywhere, Newt. Not anymore.”
He laughs, the sound muted against your shoulder. “Could have convinced me otherwise earlier. Just swear you won’t do it again, alright? I need you too much for that.”
You smile, pulling away briefly so he can see the sincerity on your face. “I swear. I don’t have to leave anymore, I’ve got you and that’s all that matters.”
It’s true, you realize halfway through saying it. You’ve got your new reason to live, and it begins and ends with the blond boy in front of you. He is all that you will ever need, and that’s just fine with you.
maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes
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mox-writes · 3 years
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You Are Worthy. (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Warning: depression, suicide attempt, angst, crying, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 2,104
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Your smile faded, skin going cold as you realized he was there, watching you at the end of your life. You didn’t want him to see it, you couldn’t face him in this state and you didn’t want the memory of your death to linger with him forever.
A/N: This isn't very good, there's no real plot here, I was just really down today and needed an outlet. This is heavily influenced by my personal experience, ya know, except having someone who cares lmao. The end was very, meh, because I started to feel better so it's just thrown together. Crossposted on moongoddessmox!
“Whoa, I haven’t seen her, what happened?” Steve sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake at the urgency in Bucky’s voice. The super-soldier could barely breathe, one text from you sent him into a panic and he was worried for your safety. Steve could see the tears streaming down his face, eyes swollen red and voice cracking with each sentence.
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“Where is she?!” Bucky yelled through the halls of the Avengers compound. He had been searching everywhere for you, all night and now into the morning. He banged on the doors of everyone who was there, frantically trying to find any clue as to where you were.
“She texted me last night, something about how she’s grateful that she met me and she loves me,” Steve furrowed his brow.
“That doesn’t sound bad?” Steve sat on the edge of the bed, watching Bucky pace with his hands rubbing down his face, tears soaking his palms.
“You don’t understand, it was a goodbye, Steve. It was a final statement, I think she’s going to hurt herself.” Bucky sobbed, swallowing hard trying to contain himself but he couldn’t. Steve looked alarmed and stood up, placing his arms around the other man and bringing him into a tender hug.
“Alright, Buck, we’ll find her.” Steve knew you had always been troubled, it wasn’t the first time you wanted to hurt yourself, it wasn’t the first time you tried. But you had been so good with Bucky, you balanced each other and they thought you were doing better. Little did anyone know, you were miserable. You wished it was enough, the Avengers, having a purpose, saving the world, Bucky, but you couldn’t shake the feeling. You didn’t want to be alive anymore and you didn’t know what to do. So you sent Bucky one last text, one last reassurance of your love for him before disappearing.
You were on the top of a tall building. Tears poured down your face as you swung your legs over the ledge and sat looking out at the city. Every emotion felt amplified, it felt like your body might explode and your heart burst into a million pieces. You couldn’t shake the feeling of your chest tightening, it was like a pressurized chamber that was ready to release steam. You watched the people and cars below, wondering what they were doing, what they were thinking, where they were going. What problems did they have, were they suicidal? Would this be their last day on earth, or would they live another fifty years? Did they have people who loved them, or were they alone? So many lives, so many stories, the world felt so full and so overwhelming. There was too much going on, too much to focus on, too much to handle.
You’d spent your whole life trying to live up to others’ expectations, to their dreams, navigating through a life that wasn’t yours. A pawn in a game you didn’t want to play. Just an object for others to use for their personal gain and needs. Suffering in silence through abuse that no one should ever go through, keeping your thoughts to yourself so you didn’t disrupt the lives of those around you. You had tried to end it before, to be rid of this life, but it only blew up in your face. No one ever let you live it down, “how could you do this to us?!” instead of “how can we help?” and it made you retreat into yourself even further.
Bucky had been a constant reminder that you were loved, someone who understood you and cared about your wellbeing so thoroughly that it felt unreal. His love was all-consuming and genuine and it made you feel unworthy. Nothing in your life had ever reassured you that you were worthy of that type of love, that your life meant enough to accept it. You felt he was better off, that he should refocus his love somewhere else on someone who deserved it. You wanted so desperately to accept all he had to offer and to repay him, but how could you? What about you was good enough for a life of true love? What about you was important enough for him and the life you’d build together? You couldn’t see it; you couldn’t see past the black smog of your past, you only saw the inevitability of death.
You inched closer to the edge, your hands gripped the cement ledge behind you as you leaned forward, looking down past your feet. You were about fifty stories up from the busy city streets, legs dangling against the skyscraper and tears dripping into your lap. You took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepared yourself to jump. This was it. This would be the time you successfully ended it. You sat for a moment, taking in the cool breeze at that height. It chilled your cheeks and ran goosebumps down your neck. Slowly you let one hand go, tipping forward even further until you were just held up by the grip of your left hand. If you let go, the weight of your body would thrust you forward until you were tumbling through the air.
With your eyes still shut, you tilted your head up until you could feel the sun on your skin. It was warm, contrasting the breeze, and made you smile. Finally. The sweet relief of death. You thought about everything you’d be leaving behind, Bucky’s face appeared in your thoughts and you sobbed for him. You’d be missing his touch, his gentle caress as he soothed you at night, the feeling of his hands on your body as you made love, his sweet voice ringing through your ears, calling your name. You swore you could hear it then, his voice echoing through the air, getting louder and louder until it pierced through your thoughts.
He was there. Standing at the other end of the roof, watching with wide, terrified eyes as you hung from the ledge. His voice was broken, seething with pain and confusion as he called out to you, unable to find any other words but your name. Your smile faded, skin going cold as you realized he was there, watching you at the end of your life. You didn’t want him to see it, you couldn’t face him in this state and you didn’t want the memory of your death to linger with him forever. He’d been through so much.
“Please…” his voice made you cry, it was so dejected. “Please don’t,” you could hear him inching closer to you, the atmosphere shifting around his presence and the air was thick with grief.
“Please don’t come any closer,” you cried, slipping your hand up the edge of the roof until only your fingertips held you in place.
“Y/N…please, don’t do this,” there were no words he could form to fully convey the weight of his emotions at that moment. He could only beg. Beg for you to stop. Beg for you to realize just how much you were loved. How much your life mattered.
“I can’t get it to stop, Buck,” you cried into the morning sky.
“Get what to stop?” he asked as he inched closer, hoping to keep you talking until he could grab you back to safety.
“Does the feeling ever go away? The feeling of wanting to die? I just don’t feel good enough, Bucky, I can’t help it,” you couldn’t stop crying, your throat was hoarse and sweat had run into your crying eyes and made them burn. You rubbed your free hand over your face in an attempt to clear up your vision. The hand that held you up was getting clammy, eventually, you’d slip and fall, but you held on, waiting for the right moment. Bucky’s presence put a halt to your plan–something in you wanted to run to him, to just be held until all your worries were gone, but you just wanted to be done with everything. You didn’t want to hurt anymore.
“Y/N, I promise you, you’re going to get through this. There is always hope as long as you hold on. You are so loved by so many people-”
“No I’m not–I’m so replaceable, Buck, give it time, I won’t even be a passing thought,” you cut him off, your mind edging on the decision to let go. It was like a weight balancing between the two choices, little by little the decision to jump was weighing further down.
“Listen to me, Y/N, I won’t ever get over you. I can’t do this without you, you are everything to me,” Bucky was only a few feet away now. His voice was only a whisper as he choked on his tears. “Y/N, I’m begging you, let me help, let me love you so thoroughly you’ll never question if you matter again.” You opened your eyes, feeling the weight shift to the other side of the scale, questioning whether this was the right decision.
Bucky reached out for your wrist, slowly to not startle you. Just as his metal fingers were about to meet your skin, your hand became too clammy and you slipped. The fear of losing everything you had rushed through your body as you fell; your life with Bucky, the life you made as an Avenger, all the people you’ve saved, you realized in that split second that you didn’t want to die, you just wanted the pain to stop.
Your scream rattled Bucky to the core, it was a long and pained sound, something so earth-shattering that Bucky almost didn’t react in time. As you felt the gravity pull your body to the ground, churning your stomach and dropping it like you were on a rollercoaster, Bucky reached over the edge and grabbed your wrist. Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulder to keep him from flying over the ledge himself, you didn’t even realize he was there until you saw him through watery eyes. Bucky’s features were twisted in agony, his face scrunched up and sopping wet as he cried out a groan pulling you to safety and yanking you into his arms. He held your body so tight against his that you thought the force would crush your bones. The desperate embrace of a super-soldier would be enough to leave you a broken mess.
“I love you so much, god I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” Bucky cried into your hair, not risking loosening his hold on you, afraid you’ll disappear from him again. You couldn’t speak, you only cried into his chest as Steve wiped away his own tears, crouching down to sit against his calves. He tried to compose himself as he watched you and Bucky, the fear never leaving his soul.
Bucky carried you home, taking you to the compound to get your shoulder checked. The force of him catching you had pulled the muscle so you had to wear a sling. He never left your side the entire time, watching you so intently as if you’d vanish into thin air before his eyes. You barely spoke; ashamed and embarrassed about the event that took place. You were in a haze of dread, a zombie walking through the halls filled with shame and pain. Pain that numbed your soul and kept your mind blank as Bucky navigated you where you needed to be.
He kept reassuring you that he loved you, promising to take care of you and to take you away for a while. And he did, he stayed with you while Steve and the others loaded up a car and got everything ready for your departure. Bucky held you close, arm wrapped around your shoulders as he walked you out and helped you into the passenger seat.
“Y/N, you are so loved here, I am so sorry for everything that you are going through, but I need you to know, even if you don’t believe it, that you are so important to all of us.” Steve had placed his hand on your weeping face as he spoke to you through the open window of the door. You could only manage a soft whisper of a “thank you” before Bucky held your hand, driving off to a remote location where he could take care of you, holding you and letting you cry into him for days until you couldn’t form tears any longer. Somewhere where he could make you believe just how much you meant to him.
And you finally believed you were worthy.
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moongoddessmox · 3 years
Text
You Are Worthy. (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Warning: depression, suicide attempt, angst, crying, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 2,104
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Your smile faded, skin going cold as you realized he was there, watching you at the end of your life. You didn’t want him to see it, you couldn’t face him in this state and you didn’t want the memory of your death to linger with him forever.
A/N: This isn't very good, there's no real plot here, I was just really down today and needed an outlet. This is heavily influenced by my personal experience, ya know, except having someone who cares lmao. The end was very, meh, because I started to feel better so it's just thrown together. Crossposted on mox-writes!
Masterlist | Mox-Writes
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“Where is she?!” Bucky yelled through the halls of the Avengers compound. He had been searching everywhere for you, all night and now into the morning. He banged on the doors of everyone who was there, frantically trying to find any clue as to where you were.
“Whoa, I haven’t seen her, what happened?” Steve sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake at the urgency in Bucky’s voice. The super-soldier could barely breathe, one text from you sent him into a panic and he was worried for your safety. Steve could see the tears streaming down his face, eyes swollen red and voice cracking with each sentence.
“She texted me last night, something about how she’s grateful that she met me and she loves me,” Steve furrowed his brow.
“That doesn’t sound bad?” Steve sat on the edge of the bed, watching Bucky pace with his hands rubbing down his face, tears soaking his palms.
“You don’t understand, it was a goodbye, Steve. It was a final statement, I think she’s going to hurt herself.” Bucky sobbed, swallowing hard trying to contain himself but he couldn’t. Steve looked alarmed and stood up, placing his arms around the other man and bringing him into a tender hug.
“Alright, Buck, we’ll find her.” Steve knew you had always been troubled, it wasn’t the first time you wanted to hurt yourself, it wasn’t the first time you tried. But you had been so good with Bucky, you balanced each other and they thought you were doing better. Little did anyone know, you were miserable. You wished it was enough, the Avengers, having a purpose, saving the world, Bucky, but you couldn’t shake the feeling. You didn’t want to be alive anymore and you didn’t know what to do. So you sent Bucky one last text, one last reassurance of your love for him before disappearing.
You were on the top of a tall building. Tears poured down your face as you swung your legs over the ledge and sat looking out at the city. Every emotion felt amplified, it felt like your body might explode and your heart burst into a million pieces. You couldn’t shake the feeling of your chest tightening, it was like a pressurized chamber that was ready to release steam. You watched the people and cars below, wondering what they were doing, what they were thinking, where they were going. What problems did they have, were they suicidal? Would this be their last day on earth, or would they live another fifty years? Did they have people who loved them, or were they alone? So many lives, so many stories, the world felt so full and so overwhelming. There was too much going on, too much to focus on, too much to handle.
You’d spent your whole life trying to live up to others’ expectations, to their dreams, navigating through a life that wasn’t yours. A pawn in a game you didn’t want to play. Just an object for others to use for their personal gain and needs. Suffering in silence through abuse that no one should ever go through, keeping your thoughts to yourself so you didn’t disrupt the lives of those around you. You had tried to end it before, to be rid of this life, but it only blew up in your face. No one ever let you live it down, “how could you do this to us?!” instead of “how can we help?” and it made you retreat into yourself even further.
Bucky had been a constant reminder that you were loved, someone who understood you and cared about your wellbeing so thoroughly that it felt unreal. His love was all-consuming and genuine and it made you feel unworthy. Nothing in your life had ever reassured you that you were worthy of that type of love, that your life meant enough to accept it. You felt he was better off, that he should refocus his love somewhere else on someone who deserved it. You wanted so desperately to accept all he had to offer and to repay him, but how could you? What about you was good enough for a life of true love? What about you was important enough for him and the life you’d build together? You couldn’t see it; you couldn’t see past the black smog of your past, you only saw the inevitability of death.
You inched closer to the edge, your hands gripped the cement ledge behind you as you leaned forward, looking down past your feet. You were about fifty stories up from the busy city streets, legs dangling against the skyscraper and tears dripping into your lap. You took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepared yourself to jump. This was it. This would be the time you successfully ended it. You sat for a moment, taking in the cool breeze at that height. It chilled your cheeks and ran goosebumps down your neck. Slowly you let one hand go, tipping forward even further until you were just held up by the grip of your left hand. If you let go, the weight of your body would thrust you forward until you were tumbling through the air.
With your eyes still shut, you tilted your head up until you could feel the sun on your skin. It was warm, contrasting the breeze, and made you smile. Finally. The sweet relief of death. You thought about everything you’d be leaving behind, Bucky’s face appeared in your thoughts and you sobbed for him. You’d be missing his touch, his gentle caress as he soothed you at night, the feeling of his hands on your body as you made love, his sweet voice ringing through your ears, calling your name. You swore you could hear it then, his voice echoing through the air, getting louder and louder until it pierced through your thoughts.
He was there. Standing at the other end of the roof, watching with wide, terrified eyes as you hung from the ledge. His voice was broken, seething with pain and confusion as he called out to you, unable to find any other words but your name. Your smile faded, skin going cold as you realized he was there, watching you at the end of your life. You didn’t want him to see it, you couldn’t face him in this state and you didn’t want the memory of your death to linger with him forever. He’d been through so much.
“Please…” his voice made you cry, it was so dejected. “Please don’t,” you could hear him inching closer to you, the atmosphere shifting around his presence and the air was thick with grief.
“Please don’t come any closer,” you cried, slipping your hand up the edge of the roof until only your fingertips held you in place.
“Y/N…please, don’t do this,” there were no words he could form to fully convey the weight of his emotions at that moment. He could only beg. Beg for you to stop. Beg for you to realize just how much you were loved. How much your life mattered.
“I can’t get it to stop, Buck,” you cried into the morning sky.
“Get what to stop?” he asked as he inched closer, hoping to keep you talking until he could grab you back to safety.
“Does the feeling ever go away? The feeling of wanting to die? I just don’t feel good enough, Bucky, I can’t help it,” you couldn’t stop crying, your throat was hoarse and sweat had run into your crying eyes and made them burn. You rubbed your free hand over your face in an attempt to clear up your vision. The hand that held you up was getting clammy, eventually, you’d slip and fall, but you held on, waiting for the right moment. Bucky’s presence put a halt to your plan–something in you wanted to run to him, to just be held until all your worries were gone, but you just wanted to be done with everything. You didn’t want to hurt anymore.
“Y/N, I promise you, you’re going to get through this. There is always hope as long as you hold on. You are so loved by so many people-”
“No I’m not–I’m so replaceable, Buck, give it time, I won’t even be a passing thought,” you cut him off, your mind edging on the decision to let go. It was like a weight balancing between the two choices, little by little the decision to jump was weighing further down.
“Listen to me, Y/N, I won’t ever get over you. I can’t do this without you, you are everything to me,” Bucky was only a few feet away now. His voice was only a whisper as he choked on his tears. “Y/N, I’m begging you, let me help, let me love you so thoroughly you’ll never question if you matter again.” You opened your eyes, feeling the weight shift to the other side of the scale, questioning whether this was the right decision.
Bucky reached out for your wrist, slowly to not startle you. Just as his metal fingers were about to meet your skin, your hand became too clammy and you slipped. The fear of losing everything you had rushed through your body as you fell; your life with Bucky, the life you made as an Avenger, all the people you’ve saved, you realized in that split second that you didn’t want to die, you just wanted the pain to stop.
Your scream rattled Bucky to the core, it was a long and pained sound, something so earth-shattering that Bucky almost didn’t react in time. As you felt the gravity pull your body to the ground, churning your stomach and dropping it like you were on a rollercoaster, Bucky reached over the edge and grabbed your wrist. Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulder to keep him from flying over the ledge himself, you didn’t even realize he was there until you saw him through watery eyes. Bucky’s features were twisted in agony, his face scrunched up and sopping wet as he cried out a groan pulling you to safety and yanking you into his arms. He held your body so tight against his that you thought the force would crush your bones. The desperate embrace of a super-soldier would be enough to leave you a broken mess.
“I love you so much, god I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” Bucky cried into your hair, not risking loosening his hold on you, afraid you’ll disappear from him again. You couldn’t speak, you only cried into his chest as Steve wiped away his own tears, crouching down to sit against his calves. He tried to compose himself as he watched you and Bucky, the fear never leaving his soul.
Bucky carried you home, taking you to the compound to get your shoulder checked. The force of him catching you had pulled the muscle so you had to wear a sling. He never left your side the entire time, watching you so intently as if you’d vanish into thin air before his eyes. You barely spoke; ashamed and embarrassed about the event that took place. You were in a haze of dread, a zombie walking through the halls filled with shame and pain. Pain that numbed your soul and kept your mind blank as Bucky navigated you where you needed to be.
He kept reassuring you that he loved you, promising to take care of you and to take you away for a while. And he did, he stayed with you while Steve and the others loaded up a car and got everything ready for your departure. Bucky held you close, arm wrapped around your shoulders as he walked you out and helped you into the passenger seat.
“Y/N, you are so loved here, I am so sorry for everything that you are going through, but I need you to know, even if you don’t believe it, that you are so important to all of us.” Steve had placed his hand on your weeping face as he spoke to you through the open window of the door. You could only manage a soft whisper of a “thank you” before Bucky held your hand, driving off to a remote location where he could take care of you, holding you and letting you cry into him for days until you couldn’t form tears any longer. Somewhere where he could make you believe just how much you meant to him.
And you finally believed you were worthy.
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
Note
zemo arranged marriage where you always had a crush on him. he never paid you any attention and was always out of reach, so much more mature and older. you hear a rumor he's planning on ending the engagement, crushed you ask for just one night together so you'll at least the memories of him
so let’s not talk about how I wrote this advance and then accidentally posted it early and then had to delete it and was about to ask you to send the prompt again when I realized you sent it last week so I’m actually answering last week’s lmao
anyways this is super angsty and amazingly turned out sfw somehow
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In typical fashion, you didn’t realize how desperately you loved him until you realized you could never have him.
Now that you were sobbing in the bedroom that you intended to share with him someday, you wondered how you ever could’ve thought you were lucky to be promised to him.  You were even younger and more naïve then, thinking that he could return your affections; but he was a man and you were just a girl.  Men had better things to worry about.
You’d been engaged nearly eight months now and you had barely had a conversation with your fiancé.  It made you cringe now to remember how desperate you’d been for his attention, juvenile in your repeated attempts to gain his favor.  It always backfired and he ended up further away than ever.
You gasped and jumped up when you heard the door open; he was standing there, staring at you, looking... impossible to read, as always.
“I didn’t realize you were in here,” he stated plainly.
“Well, I won’t be much longer,” you promised, defiantly wiping your tears and standing up from the bed.  “I’m going to make it easier for you, and just leave now.”
He tilted his head and you rolled your eyes.  “I hate when you do that.  Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I wish I did,” he defended.  “Have you been crying?”
“I heard you’re going to break it off,” you finally explained, and he sighed.
“Oh.”
You stormed to the dresser where you found your old luggage.  “I was just getting this, so I could pack my things from the guest room.”
It still killed you that you’d been sleeping alone in the guest room this whole time.
“I’d prefer that you didn’t leave like this,” he weakly protested, and when you tried to step past him to go back to your room, he blocked the door with his arm.
“Let me out,” you frowned.
“Not yet,” he shook his head.  “Clearly you have more to say.  I want you to say your piece before you go.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Something about the way he said it-- stern but patient, as collected as ever-- just made you fucking lose it.  How dare he be so calm as he threw you away?  How dare he ask you for anything?
You roughly shoved him in the chest, knocking him back into the hallway where you cornered him, tossing your bag aside.  “You want my piece?  Is that it?  After eight months of hell, you want to hear what I have to say?  Whatever happened to ‘stay quiet and we shouldn’t bother each other’?  What about ‘I don’t need your opinion and I have no desire for it’?  Do you remember saying those things to me?”
He nodded, “I remember.”
“For the better part of a year I had so much to say to you and no opportunity.  I wanted to tell you that I loved you, that I loved you before we were even engaged and that I’ve never loved anyone else.  I wanted to tell you how I longed for you, how much it killed me to sleep alone, how the only thing worse than imagining you alone, too, was imagining that you had someone else and that was why you kept me so far away.  I wanted to tell you that I thought myself so lucky to be your betrothed, that I dreamed of nothing more than to be your wife and that I couldn’t wait to have a family with you-- to be a family with you.”
Even though you’d been crying all day already, somehow these tears hurt the most.
“You wouldn’t even let me tell you ‘good morning.’  You’re kinder to the house staff.  Maybe that’s the worst thing... that you’re not a cruel man at all, not to anyone else, it’s just me that you hate so much.  You wouldn’t even let me tell you that I missed you.  And now... now you have the audacity to ask me what I want to say to you?!”
He looked back at you, not exactly as shocked or hurt or angry as you would’ve hoped... yes, a little stunned, but still so painfully calm.  Even now, he couldn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction.  He just stood there, stoic and silent, like he was waiting for you to do something.  You’d never been so angry, so hurt, all at once.
“I only have one thing to say to you, Helmut,” you finished coldly.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Guess.”
He thought for a moment.  “You’re going to tell me to go fuck myself, I presume.”
You scoffed.  “Yeah, something like that.”
As you started to turn and walk down the hall in search of your bedroom to pack, his voice stopped you.  “There isn’t anyone else,” he told you.  “I slept alone.”
You knew you shouldn’t turn back, but you couldn’t help yourself.  For once he looked a little affected by it all, his expression softer and his hair having fallen out of its style and down into his face slightly.
“I longed for you, too,” he admitted, making your breath catch in your throat, “I should’ve told you, but if you turned me away I’d never recover from the heartbreak.  I thought maybe I could keep you here just to look at you, even if I couldn’t touch you or hold you... but it was too hard.  That’s why I wanted to end the engagement, to give you a chance to be with someone who could care for you like you deserved.”
His cowardice should’ve angered you and yet you began to calm down, especially as he stepped closer.  His hand reached for your arm, just the gentlest touch and it still made your heart skip.  
“I’ve been so cruel to you.  I hope if you leave now, you won’t hate me forever,” he breathed.  “Because I think I’ll love you all my life.”
Before you could stop yourself, you stood up on your toes and pulled him into a kiss, sudden and perhaps a little desperate, but relatively conservative considering how much more you really wanted.  He kissed you back, gently, just for a moment, as you felt his hands rest on your waist.
But then he pulled back and it was all over before it really began.  You didn’t open your eyes at first, afraid to see him for the last time.  “Just one night,” you whispered under your breath.
“Hm?” he asked, and you found the courage to blink your eyes open.
“Just one night,” you requested again, “to remember you by.  I’ve never wanted anyone else.”
He sighed and kissed you again, quickly, before shaking his head.  “I can’t give you that.”
Well, he’d managed to do it; he’d managed to break your heart a thousand times each day and get one twist of the knife in before he sent you away.
“I can’t just have one night,” he continued.  “If you let me hold you, I’ll never let you go.”
You breathed out shakily.  “Is that a promise?”
He smiled and trailed his fingers over yours, resting his touch on the diamond on your ring finger, the one he gave you when it all began.  “You were already promised to me.  I think it’s only fair I finally keep up on my end of the deal.”
And this time when he kissed you, it didn’t feel like a goodbye.  It felt like the beginning you’d been waiting all this time for, it felt like the chance to say everything you never did before.  And instead of one last night, you got everything you ever wished for.
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weirdlyfitting · 3 years
Text
Yooo
So I went back to see my rotbtd edits and found the halloween one. I realized that whenever I post a long story I'll put some illustrations because yeah reading can be exausting and it's a bit hard for me to imagine too many stuff lol, also I think it's just BETTER (this is one of my big reason to love Cytus 2's story lol)
Anyway this one's longer and I got this idea because I was thinking about their similiarities. It's pretty cool that while both Merida & Hiccup's story had a theme of "change" , both Jack & Punz's story had a theme of "identity". Since this one's abt Jack & Rapunzel so mayyybe I'll make Hiccup & Merida too?
And ahhh I forgot my watermark but whateves I'm tired lmao :(
╮(0w0)╭
Anyway here ya go :D
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As her feet touch the grass she felt as if freedom has greeted her. This is the first time in 17 years that Rapunzel ever touch it. She has wished, prayed, and hoped to see the "floating lights" by herself and right at this moment she knew that she can do it.
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Rapunzel : I can't believe I did this....
I CAN'T BELIEVE I DID THIS!
Rapunzel ran as fast as she can to the secret cave that mother used to use as an exit whenever she bought her a present from the outside world.
Her heart beating fast as she's getting closer to the entrance. But suddenly, she slowed her run and stopped right at the entrance. She look back at the tower
Rapunzel : Mother, it'll be okay. I will be okay..
After I see the floating lights everything will be just like what it used to be, Mother..
Her figure slowly dissapear as she walks into the dark entrance
Rapunzel : You can do this, Rapunzel. Come on...*gasp
Light!
As she mumbled she found a light source and made her steps faster towards it
Rapunzel : Wait, who-
She stopped with caution, she saw a shadow outside the entrance, could it be the person who'd use her hair?!
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It goes left and right and so on
Rapunzel : Oh no...
???? : How many times has it been? and still no answer...
She decided to sneak in near the leaves to hear what it says
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???? : Just- just why no one-
It's a boy. He's holding his tears as he gets more frustrated.
???? : Why can't anyone just talk to me?! Why can't they see me?! I had tons of questions yet NO ONE EVER ANSWER IT!
He raised his voice as anger controlled him. Rapunzel tried to stay back quitely while Pascal made a gesture that shouted "what should we do?!"
Rapunzel : Stay caution, Pascal. I think that's the guy that mother talked about"
The boy sit in the stone near where Rapunzel are. He let a big sigh.
???? : *sniffs *sobs
He let out a cry. As soon as Rapunzel hears it she decided to go closer.
Rapunzel : Is he...crying?
???? : Please..." *sobs
Rapunzel went closer towards him. Her hand wanted to reach him but too scared. Pascal tried to warn Rapunzel to not go after the boy with his hands.
???? : *sniff Ugh, it's pointless anyway...
Suddenly Rapunzel felt a breeze of wind coming through. As if the wind is alive and move on it's own. The leaves are dancing and the wind...so calming.
Rapunzel : *whisper Woah
???? : Haha, oh wind. At last I had you beside me
The boy sniffs for the last time as he get up and proceed to take his leave.
???? : Ah I wanna see the lanterns tonight. They're really pretty don't you think? At first I have no idea why only once a year it happened but the first time I saw that...
He smiled, all those anger and burden have gone as he remembers the "lanterns".
???? : They're just really beautiful. But then I heard that it's for the missing princess and.. (continue speaking)
Whatever that is, deep down Rapunzel knew that what the boy meant are the floating lights. She saw the boy walked out from where he stood. Should she ask him for a help? or should she continue finding it by herself?Pascal shrugged his head as he disagree.
Rapunzel : Well what choice do I have?
Pascal tried to confront Rapunzel and still insist.
Rapunzel : Don't worry he can be our guide, ok? If he tried to do any harm to me or my hair..he will regret it
She take the frying pan that she brought from the tower and making a serious look. Pascal finally agrees. Rapunzel pull the leaves as she go out from the entrance.
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Rapunzel : H-Hey!
The boy stopped right away as he heard someone called. He's looking at the source and it's a girl. He's so sure she called someone else so he continued his walk. But strange, he thought. What kind of a girl who'd play in the deep forest like this?
Rapunzel : W-wait, Please! I want to see the floating lights!
The boy quickly turn to her, she's just called him, she talked to him, she saw him?!
???? : Y-you can- YOU CAN SEE ME?!
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Rapunzel : Look, I only had 3 days to go see it or I'll never had the chance anymore!
???? : But h-
Rapunzel : You will be my guide to go see it! Those "lanterns" you're talking about.
???? : Woah, woah, woah! You've been inside it from the whole time?!
Rapunzel : Uhh- it doesn't matter I don't have much time, okay! Let's just-
Rapunzel tried to think a way to convince him. While the boy is still in shock because Rapunzel is able see him.
???? : Oh my moon you're even talk to me- wait is that your hair?!
The boy looked so surprised to she Rapunzel's super long hair still goes along through the entrance cave. Suddenly, a frying pan almost landed on the boy's face.
Rapunzel : Move one step closer, and this will be the last time you see me. Ever..
The boy got terrified on the sudden change of Rapunzel.
???? : Yikes, sorry I asked. Looks like it's really precious huh?
Rapunzel : Don't play dumb to me, I knew it. You wanted to cut my hair and sell it, right?!
???? : W-wha- Why would I do that? Look, you're clearly heard my cry behind the leaves right? Do I heard like want to kidnap you and cut your hair?! No one can't even see me so WHY WOULD I??
Rapunzel take back her frying pan and had a deep thought.
Rapunzel : Let's make a deal.
???? : What?
Rapunzel : A deal. I'll tell you my reasons on why I can see you and for you, just like what I said before, take me to see the floating lights! You will be my guide
???? : Okay...deal
Rapunzel : Well then it's settled. Now show me the way mister..
???? : Jack. It's Jack Frost. And don't call me mister I'm basically around your age too..
Rapunzel : O-oh, okay...Jack
Jack : There you go. This way, blondie..
Finally, they both goes through the forest. Searching for the floating lights
THE END
?
58 notes · View notes
makeadealwithdean · 4 years
Text
can’t touch us (dom!sam winchester x fem! reader) -- part 2 of ftfuwc
Hi everyone!! I’m back faster than usual with Part 2 of the Sam Winchester Valentine’s Day fic, fueling the fire until we combust! To the anon who requested this: again, I’m so sorry it’s later than I wanted it to be, but I do hope you read and enjoy it! Feedback is always appreciated, and if you like reading on AO3 better, you can find mine here :)
Word Count: 4946
Request: "Sam Winchester Valentine’s Day smut? Is that too vague for a request lmao" "I’m up to anything happening before the fun, but I was thinking they’re dating already and are both hunters and they were on separate hunts and now they’re happy just to be back together. I’m a sucker for reuniting -Sam valentine anon"
Warnings: SMUT, like for real this time, dom/sub, spanking, face slapping (a little bit), dirty talk, sir kink, daddy kink, soft dom!sam, less soft dom!sam, fingering, slight degradation (name calling, i guess), general rough sex, fluffy aftercare, i think that’s it
Part 1
My Masterlist
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You set the box on the counter, untied the ribbon, and opened the lid. Inside was a strappy black bra made of sheer lace, matching panties, and garter set nestled in the middle of red tissue paper. You held the pieces up, and felt your cheeks flush at the thought of Sam’s eyes on you in that. You dropped it back into the box and began wiggling out of your tight little red dress. Finally, your dress hit the floor, along with the bra and panties you’d been wearing. You put on the new outfit Sam had given you and checked your hair and makeup in the mirror. After a deep breath to calm your nerves, you opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom.
Sam was sitting in your armchair over by the wall across from the end of your bed, leaning back, legs spread wide as he waited for you to finish changing. He looked up as you stepped out of the bathroom, and his lips curved into a wicked smile. Sometime since ditching his jacket in his room, he had rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up; you knew he was well aware of what that did to you. His hand resting on the arm of the chair lazily beckoned you closer. You took small timid steps towards him.
“C’mere, kitten,” he said, readjusting himself in the chair. You came closer, and he reached out his arm and gestured for you to sit on his right knee. You perched softly on him, still holding up most of your weight with your legs in between his legs. His big hands grabbed around your waist, picking you up and guiding you further onto his lap, so that your toes barely touched the ground. You looked down and saw the outline of his thick cock visible through his black dress pants, and all you wanted to do was touch it. But you knew that would get you in more trouble, so you placed the heel of your hand on the end of his knee to steady yourself instead.
“Now,” Sam said in a low voice, “would you like to tell me what you’ve done wrong tonight?” He leaned forward to look at you and placed his arm over your lap to grasp your thigh.
You swallowed, and your voice was shaky when you spoke, “Umm, I… talked back to you…”
“And?”
“And I touched you--” you had stopped speaking, but Sam’s hand around your waist squeezed hard, and you squeaked out “--even when you’d already told me not to.”
“Right,” Sam said sternly, turning your head towards him with his hand. “And why did you think that was okay to do? You know better.”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry, sir,” you said in a voice just barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know isn’t an answer, Y/n,” Sam said, looking you in the eye and threading his fingers up your neck and into your hair to hold you still. He repeated a little more forcefully, “Why did you do what you did? Do not make me ask again.”
“I wanted to tease you, because I didn’t think I’d get in trouble today,” you said in a rush, wanting to get it over with.
Sam raised his eyebrow and huffed in surprise, “Didn’t think you’d get in trouble? Well, babygirl, guess you were wrong about that.” He hooked his left arm under your knees, right arm around your back, and lifted you as he stood up. “I think you need to be reminded who’s in charge here. That’s okay, princess. We’re gonna fix that right now.”
He threw you onto the bed on your back, but before you could get comfortable, he grabbed your legs and dragged you to the edge of the bed, flipping your body over so that your legs hung off the side, toes resting on the ground. You could feel Sam standing behind you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He yanked you backwards, just a bit more until your feet were flat on the floor, and his hips were flush against your ass. His cock strained against the fabric of his pants, and he let a sigh of relief as he grinded against you. You let out a quiet moan and turned your head to look back at him.
“Uh uh,” Sam snapped, and his hand smacked the side of your ass sharply. You yelped, and Sam said, “Eyes forward.” You turned back around, your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. He shouldn’t have had to tell you to face the front, you knew better.
“Do you know your colors, little girl?” Sam asked you, slightly softer now, and you knew this was his way of making sure you were okay with everything that was about to happen. You nodded your head, and Sam said, “No, use your words, baby.”
“Red, yellow, green, sir,” you listed off quickly.
“Good, and what’s your color right now?” Sam asked gently, hands now rubbing your ass over the lace of the new panties he’d given you.
“Green, sir,” you whimpered, voice laced with anticipation. As soon as the word left your lips, you felt Sam step back, his hands leaving you, and you whined again at the loss of contact, but stayed where he’d put you. You heard Sam move somewhere behind you and felt a rush of air as the first smack came down on the sensitive skin of your ass. Your body jolted forward as the force of his hand pushed you up the bed, and you yelped in surprise. 
His hand grabbed your waist and pulled you back to where you’d been a second ago. This time he kept his hand pressing firmly down on your lower back, keeping you in place while he yanked your panties down and off. He crouched down and blew a long, cool breath onto your exposed cunt. You whined and thrashed a little, already so sensitive for him. He chuckled darkly, and you felt his presence leave you as he stood a few steps away.
 The second smack was even harder than the first, and you closed your eyes tightly, burying your face in the comforter. Your hands moved from resting beside your head to fisting the sheets. You struggled not to let out a cry and held on as the swats got faster and harder.
Yeah, it hurt, and it stung, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the burn. With his big hands, Sam could inflict a hell of a lot of pain, but somehow with you, he was always loving, even when he spanked you until tears ran down your cheeks. 
Like now, it was physically impossible for you not to cry out with every smack of his hand. You couldn’t tell which was worse, the burning on your ass or the heat in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t your fault that being punished for bad behavior turned you on like nothing else. And the heat became more and more intense with every slap. 
You could hear Sam grunting with effort, and even as he stopped, he was breathing hard. He stood behind you again, both hands on your now red ass, feeling the heat rise off of it. He ran one finger delicately up the slit of your pussy and hummed his approval.
“Oh, you’re soaked for me, aren’t you baby?” He rasped, his voice low and gruff, loving the way you sounded so desperate for him. “Bet you like that, huh? Listen to yourself, my little slut can’t help but cry for me.”
He let his finger hover over your dripping hole, teasing you, and your hips involuntarily moved back, searching for more. You heard the smack before you felt it this time, his hand coming down loud on your ass, forcing a whimper from you.
“Behave, kitten,” Sam growled. You went limp again under his hands, too tired already to resist his commands, and he wasn’t even close to finished with you. He ran the tips of his fingers over your ass and up your back, light soothing touches that he knew you liked to help ground you. “Now, do you think you’ve learned your lesson, baby? Not to disobey me again, especially in public, when I’m trying to take you out for a nice date?”
“Mhmm,” you whined into the comforter. Sam answered with another several hard smacks on both sides of your ass. You hissed at the contact. The familiar burn that had faded slightly came rushing back, causing your legs to twitch and heat to shoot straight to your core.
“Nope,” He said, popping the “p” and twisting his fingers into the roots of your hair, pulling you upward and causing you to arch your back. You could see his snarl out of the corner of your eye. “You’re gonna answer me out loud or I’m gonna put you over my knee, and believe me, that’ll be a lot worse for you. Let’s try this again: have you learned your lesson?” 
“Yes, sir!” You cried, much louder than before. “Yes, I promise I have. Please!” The waiting was getting too much for you to bear, and your voice slipped into the tone you only used for begging.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me, princess?” he sneered, turning your face towards him and coming much closer. God, he’s intimidating, you thought as more tears welled in your eyes, and at least you knew he’d never truly hurt you. Wouldn’t wanna be his enemy. No way. 
“Yes, sir! I’ll be good for you! Just-- please-- please--” you paused, panting, almost sobbing now, not entirely sure what you were begging for. You just needed him, desperately. His light touch, his scent-- it was all too much without fully having him. You wanted him inside you, now.
“Please what, little girl?” Sam’s gravelly voice hissed. He let go of your hair, pushing off like he was disgusted with you so that you dropped back down, hard, onto the mattress.
“Please, sir,” you gasped, taking deep breaths, fists clenching beside your head. “Please, please, fuck me! I swear, I’ll never disobey you again!” You both knew that probably wasn’t true, but your desperate begging seemed to satisfy Sam because he groaned at your words. His big hands grabbed your waist, flipping you quickly over onto your back. You hissed as your sore backside came in contact with the comforter, but Sam didn’t appear at all sympathetic. 
His hands landed on either side of your head as he hovered over you, slamming his lips into yours harshly, all technique flying completely out the window. It was all teeth and tongue and passion, and you loved it. You moaned into his mouth as he bit your lower lip, drawing back slightly, dragging it with him for a moment before letting go, all the while rutting his cloth-covered cock on your sensitive pussy. 
He threw your arms around his neck, having you hold on so you sat up slightly, while his nimble fingers swiftly undid the clasp of your bra. He pushed your shoulders back down onto the bed, and you released his neck as he dragged the lace from your arms, throwing it somewhere behind him onto the floor. It had served its purpose for the night.
You lay on the bed, a little further up so your legs weren’t hanging off the side, and now completely naked as he stood over you, still completely clothed. You’d always sworn Sam could read your mind, and now was no different clearly, because his fingers flew down the front of his shirt, undoing all the buttons as quickly as possible. He yanked off the button-up, along with his white undershirt. Next to go were his dress shoes and socks. He kicked them off before undoing the clasp of his black leather belt and his dress pants and shoving them and his boxers down his legs. He stepped out of them and was back on top of you in a heartbeat. 
Sam kissed you again, hand fisted in your hair before moving his kisses to your jaw, then your neck, travelling downward, nipping and biting until he reached your chest. His tongue flicked over each of your now hard and pointy nipples. He took one point in his mouth, lightly sucking and licking until you were arching up into him. He rolled your other nipple in between his fingers, before his mouth moved to cover that one instead. He kept dragging the edge of his teeth along your sensitive points until you were practically crying under him.
With Sam, you never felt unbalanced. He gave each of your tits an equal amount of attention, whether it was his hand palming and grabbing and pulling, or his warm tongue lightly teasing the sensitive skin until you practically sang his praises. You’d never understood the importance of nipple play until Sam, but he’d helped you to branch out, and at this point, you’d try almost anything if he suggested it. You highly doubted that Sam Winchester could be “bad” at anything in the bedroom. 
His mouth travelled downward still, leaving gentle kisses on your stomach, hands caressing your sides, until he knelt in between your legs, pushing you thighs open, giving him a full view of your dripping entrance. The way he looked at you was downright predatory, and you whimpered under the intensity of his gaze. “So sexy,” he whispered in a raspy voice, tongue poking out to wet his lips, “and all mine.” 
As the last word left his lips, he thrust two of his thick fingers inside of you with no warning. You gasped and moaned, arching your back up off the bed, much to Sam’s delight. He groaned loudly and fisted his cock, now dripping with pre-cum, with his other hand. He swiped his thumb over the slit, collecting the liquid on the tip of his finger.
“Look what you’ve done to me, kitten,” he said, his voice full of lust, as he stuck his thumb onto your tongue, letting you lick it clean before hooking his thumb into the side of your cheek and jerking your head to the side, watching as you sucked on his thumb. Sam had once said that he could tell just from looking at you that you had an oral fixation, and he was definitely correct. You were so desperate for something in your mouth that almost anything would do at this point, and Sam loved to watch the way your mouth moved around his fingers. 
He fucked in and out of your pussy roughly, watching as you keened with every drag of his fingers. He yanked his other hand away from your mouth so he could press one of your thighs down flat onto the bed, effectively changing the angle of his shallow thrusts. Pressing his fingers inside of you as far as they could go,  he fluttered them up and down, watching your face as your jaw dropped and you cried out in pleasure. 
“Please, sir,” you begged. “Please, I’m getting close! Can I— can I come, please, Sam?” You felt the faded heat from before come surging back, much faster than before. The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you fought to push it back down. 
“No.” Sam slapped your cheek with the hand that had been in your mouth, still wet from your saliva. “And what did you call me? Whose are you?”
“Yours, Sam! Yours, sir!” you cried loudly, gasping from the smack he’d given you, the slight sting giving you a brief high. “Only ever yours, sir!”
He grabbed your jaw in one hand forcing you to look at him, mascara and tears running down your face, just like he liked you, “You already won’t be able to sit for a week,” he growled, “and now, you won’t be able to walk either.”
Pushing your thighs up and back, he pulled his fingers from your soaked and trembling pussy, lined himself up with your slick entrance, and thrust completely into you in one motion, forcing a guttural noise from you at the impact. Sam grunted as your walls tightened around him, and without pausing to give you time to adjust, he picked up a brutal pace. Your legs tightened around his waist, hooked over his hip bones as he practically folded you in half. He groaned at the feeling of you and intertwined his fingers with yours, pinning your wrists flat to the comforter on either side of your head. He held himself up over your body as he fucked into you, supporting most of his weight on his forearms. His teeth nipped at your shoulder, as his head dropped to plant bruising kisses all over your neck and collarbone. 
Loving the noises he drew from you, Sam had no intentions of slowing down anytime soon, and you were hurling towards your climax faster than ever. As your pussy tightened around him, he made a noise halfway between a moan and a growl, thrusting in as deep as he could, trusting you could take it. Soon enough, your cries of pain turned to whimpers of pleasure, nearly drowned out by the sound of skin on skin as his hips slapped repeatedly against your ass. Fresh tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, but you were helpless to do anything, except lie there and take it. 
“Fuck, sir! Please— I’m about to come!” you cried. “It’s so so good— Please, can I come, sir?”
“Oh, fuck, babygirl. You’re doing so well for me. You can hold it just a bit longer, princess,” Sam moaned in your ear, holding you down still so you wouldn’t slide around from the force of his hips pistoning into you. 
“I— I can’t! Please, sir!” you were sobbing again, gasping for breath. “I just need to— Please— let me, please!” You were panting now, eyes closed tight, and every word was bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 
“Not yet, little girl,” Sam let go of your hands and pushed up off you, pulling out of you at the same time. You whined pitifully at the loss of his touch, your walls now clenching around nothing. You looked up at him and saw his brow glistening with sweat, pieces of hair clinging to his forehead. His chest rose and fell as he sucked in deep breaths. His huge hands grabbed around your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach. He yanked your hips back, pulling your ass into the air and slamming into you again, with no regard for the heat still burning in your stomach.
“Sam, I—” he cut you off with a harsh smack on your ass, and you cried out loudly. 
“I know you didn’t just call me that again, princess,” Sam practically spat the words at you, his already low voice made even lower as he grabbed your arms, yanking you up against his chest. With that leverage, his thrusts slowed considerably, but it hardly mattered, because the new angle allowed him to hit the parts of you that only he could. You moaned desperately, recalling how before him, you hadn’t even known it was possible to feel that much that deep. You felt your walls clench again, and you were sure he felt you tighten around his thick length. 
“Tell me,” he demanded, calmer this time, reaching down to rub circles around your clit in time with his thrusts, eliciting several much higher pitched noises from your throat. “Who fucks you so good every damn time? Who owns this pussy?” His hand moved from your shoulder to your throat, not yet squeezing your airway, but pinning you to him, and effectively cutting off any other movements you’d tried to make.
You could only moan in response. He was hitting so deep, and you couldn’t focus on anything else except his thrusts and his hands holding you against him, his hot breath panting in your ear. When you didn’t give him a sufficient answer Sam’s fingers on your sensitive clit stilled. You barely had time to register the loss before his hand came down with a smack, right where his fingers had just been. You bit back a scream, but when his hand came down on your pussy for a second time, you couldn’t help the high-pitched yelp that fell from your lips.
“Tell me whose this is! Now.” Sam’s hand on your throat tightened quickly with the last word before loosening again to allow you to speak, or as much as you could with him pounding into you relentlessly. This time you gasped and managed to speak, your voice sounding like the words had been dragged out of you.
“Yours, sir! It’s yours-- only ever yours! You own it, ruined me for anyone else! You fuck me so good, please-- Please, can I come, sir? Please, Daddy!” Your orgasm was so close now, it was becoming physically impossible to hold off, so you pleaded with him one last time. Using the nickname you knew he couldn’t resist, you let go of the last bit of your pride, completely submitting to the man behind you.
Sam made a guttural noise, as his dull teeth bit into your shoulder, and you felt him start to twitch inside you. He must’ve been painfully close, too. He raised his head, rasping, “Yes, baby. You can come, been so good for me--”
His fingers began to stroke your clit again, faster and harder, and his hand slowly tightened around your neck. You closed your eyes as you felt the overwhelming sensation begin to wash over you.
“Yes, baby-- That’s it, kitten. Come on my cock-- lemme feel you, sweet girl. So pretty, baby… Oh--” he cut himself off with a moan as your walls constricted around him, and he let go off your throat. With the sudden intake of oxygen, your orgasm hit you like a truck, and your mouth fell open as your head dropped back on his shoulder. It was a good thing Sam was still holding you up, because had you been standing or supporting your own weight, you would’ve collapsed immediately.
Once you found your voice, you screamed so loudly, you were positive the whole bunker knew how good Sam was to you. You cried out again as your pussy spasmed in waves, “Daddyyy-- Ohh, fuck! So good--”
Sam groaned deeply, his hands squeezing harshly at your tits, and as your orgasm began to fade, you felt his dick twitch violently. Seconds later, he was spilling hot ropes of cum deep inside you, and you moaned again at the feeling of him. He hugged your body tightly to his front, gasping against your neck as he rode out his high. With one last push of his cock, he collapsed, on top of you, careful as always not to crush you. He lingered there for a few seconds more before gently pulling out of you, sucking in a gasp of air as he did. 
He rolled over on his back next to you, and his green eyes met your droopy ones. “How ya doin’, darling? You with me?” You whined pitifully, and he pulled you into his strong arms, holding you tightly, grounding you. “Shh, shh, shh,” he petted your hair gently as the noises from you gradually ceased. 
He held you like that for a while, letting you recover a bit before murmuring, “You’re okay, princess. My good girl, did such a good job for me, baby. My perfect, precious little girl. You wanna go get cleaned up, so we can sleep, kitten?”
You whined again, burying your face tightly into his chest, not wanting to move or leave his arms, even for a second. Sam kissed the top of your head gently, pushing your hair back from your forehead and sighed, recognizing you were still pretty far under, “Oh, I knoww sweetheart. I promise we’ll be quick, and then we’ll come right back to bed. And I’ll put lotion on you, so you won’t be as sore tomorrow. Come on.” 
He grunted as he got up from the bed, lifting you to his chest and carrying you to the bathroom. He set you down on the toilet, making sure you went pee, before carefully lifting you into the hot bathwater he’d just prepared. You cried out for him, hands opening and closing as you reached for him.
“It’s okay, honey,” he shushed you gently. “Daddy’s coming.” He stepped into the warm bath and settled down behind you, pulling you flush against his chest, calming you down instantly with his touch. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”
His big hands cupped the water, gently pouring it on your head, careful to avoid getting soap in your eyes as he gently washed your hair, rinsing until the bubbles disappeared. He wiped away the remnants of your makeup with a washcloth, mascara smudged with tears and glittery bits of eyeshadow. You leaned against him the whole time, feeling dazed still from your post-sex haze, and unwilling to part from him, his very touch soothing you. Tucked into his chest, eyes closed, you let Sam’s hands wash all over your body, massaging most of the tightness and soreness from your tired muscles.
Once he was finished, he pulled on the drain, letting all the soapy water start to slowly spiral away. He stepped out first onto the bath mat, grabbing several fluffy towels from the rack near the tub and drying off quickly, before taking your hand and helping you stand. You held onto his strong arms as you climbed over the tall edge of the tub. Once you were standing steadily on the bath mat, Sam wrapped the soft, warm towel around your shoulders, rubbing down your legs with another to help you dry off. 
You sniffled and rubbed your eyes as Sam helped you into a bathrobe. He cupped your face in his hands, looking into your eyes, and kissing you on the forehead. Sam tugged the robe tighter around you before tying it closed. He slipped on a clean pair of boxers and took your hand, leading you back into the bedroom. He helped you climb up onto the bed and lie down. 
You hissed as the fabric of the bed came in contact with your sore and tingling ass and the bruised backs of your thighs. You whimpered and rolled over quickly onto your stomach to relieve the pressure, looking up at Sam pitifully from under long eyelashes. Sam looked down at you sympathetically, stroking your hair. 
“Oh, my poor sweet baby,” he fussed over you, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your back. “Let me go get your smell-good lotion, so I can help some of those bruises not hurt so much, okay?”
“Uh-uh,” you said, shaking your head. Sam looked at you, confused. “Your lotion, please? Smells like you,” you explained shyly, staring down down at the comforter. 
Sam smiled, nodding, “Of course, baby. I’ll be right back.” He slipped into his room to find his lotion while you waited for him on the bed. He tried to move as quickly as possible, knowing you hated being without him in your current fragile state of mind. He snatched the lotion from his nightstand. It wasn’t like he was in his room often anymore; he always slept with you in your room, but he still kept most of his stuff here.
He jogged back down the hall to where you were waiting on the bed. “Okay, little love, do you wanna keep the robe on or take it off?” You began shrugging off the robe as an answer, and Sam helped you untangle yourself from it before laying it over the back of the chair near your bed. He knelt on the bed next to you and pumped some of the lotion into his hands.
“This might be a little cold, darling,” he murmured before rubbing the lotion gingerly onto the backs of your thighs. You whimpered a little because of the cold lotion and Sam’s hands moving up to soothe the skin on your ass. He looked at the bright red skin where he’d left handprints a little while ago. He winced as you did when his hands passed over it, questioning if he’d gone a little too far. He rubbed the lotion in gently until your skin felt smooth and no longer as hot as it had been before.
He looked at your face, turned towards him, resting on the comforter. Your eyes were closed peacefully, and he knew you were ready to go to sleep. He turned off all the lights, and whispered gently to you, “C’mon, honey. Let’s get you under the covers so you can get some rest, huh?” 
You nodded sleepily and yawned as he lifted you up to his chest, pulled back the covers, and tucked you in, your head now resting on the pillow. You looked at him with droopy eyes and reached towards him, opening and closing your hands, wanting him to cuddle you.
He did the gesture back before walking to the other side of the bed and climbing under the blankets himself. He pulled you gently into his arms, and you let your head rest on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, allowing it to soothe you. Sam stroked your hair, kissed the top of your head, and hummed, “Was everything okay tonight, my little Valentine? I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”
You shook your head barely, exhausted, but wanting him to know how much you’d enjoyed it, “Nuh-uh, it was perfect, Sam. You’re always perfect.”
“I don’t know about always perfect,” he chuckled softly, hugging you tightly to him. “But I do love you, princess.”
“I love you, too,” you sighed happily, nuzzling your cheek against him. 
He kissed your head once more, “Go to sleep, lovey. Got lots of time together to catch up on tomorrow, hmm?”
You didn’t answer. Your breath had deepened and steadied as you slipped off into sleep. Sam smiled to himself at how peaceful you looked. Yeah, no more separate hunts for a while, he thought, before he too drifted into a dreamless sleep.
a/n: thank you so much for reading! if you made it this far, you literally have my heart. please consider leaving me a comment or a reblog :))
Forever Tags: @downanddirtydean @klinenovakwinchester @deanwanddamons​
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falcqns · 3 years
Text
partner in crime ll
pairing: August Walker x OFC (Maeve)
summary: August and Maeve get acquainted.
warnings: fluff! dad!august.
a/n: this will eventually be a august x reader story, but that won't happen for a few more chapters, sorry! hope you enjoy! I also would like to say I hated writing him building her crib bc it brought back memories of me trying to assemble Lavenders while in labor bc im a dumb ass and left it to her due date LMAO.
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August was in way over his head.
he'd been trying for the better part of an hour to get Maeve down for a nap so he could put her crib together. he had tried a bottle, and a pacifier, but nothing was working. he refused to call Anais, he had just gotten the little girl, and he didn't want to lose her.
he may not be the best thing for her, but he was all she had left, and he was determined to do better than his mother at this single parent thing.
it startled him slightly just how similar his life and Maeve's were. both were either raised or being raised by a single parent, and both had a dead parent. for him it was his father, for her it was her mother.
that thought worried him. who would she go to when she got her first period? when she had boy trouble? when she needed someone who wasn't him for something he couldn't help with? is he limiting her possibilities by just being raised by him?
he didn't have any brothers or sisters. his parents were older when they had him; late 40's, and his fathers parents were dead as well, and his mom stopped talking to her family when she was 18. he never knew why, but based on the way she treated him, he could only guess it was abuse.
he didn't want that for Maeve. he wanted her to grow up happy and healthy, the way he was before his father was killed.
he glanced back down at the little girl who wouldn't settle, and had absolutely no idea what to do. he laid her on his bed, and that's when he noticed her shorts were sagging slightly, and he finally clued in to the issue.
he walked over to the bag that Anais had brought, and headed back to the bedroom. he dropped it as he walked in when he saw Maeve about to fall off the bed face first. he caught her in time, and was about to scold her, when he realized he was at fault.
that's right. he thought. can't leave babies alone.
he sighed, and laid her back on the bed, before opening up her bag.
he was shocked at what he found. she only had one other outfit, and those were pyjamas. she had 3 diapers, a small package of wipes, and one stuffed animal.
August still didn't fully know what she needed, but he knew she needed more than just one stuffed animal.
he took her shorts off, and his mind blanked. he had absolutely no idea how to change a diaper.
he grabbed his phone and made a quick google search of 'how to change a diaper'
he clicked on the first link he found, and followed the instructions carefully.
Unfasten the diaper tabs.
August grasped the diaper tabes, and pulled them away from the diaper. the diaper came undone, and he looked back at his phone.
Slide the diaper away.
He slid the diaper away, wrapped it up as best as he could, and placed it onto the ground next to him, so Maeve couldn't reach it. something inside of him told him that the dirty diaper was something she shouldn't touch.
he glanced up at her, and saw she was watching him intently, as she sucked on her pacifier. she wasn't crying, so he must be doing it right.
Wipe the baby clean.
he used one of the very few wipes to clean her up, before tossing that on top of the dirty diaper next to him.
Slide a clean diaper under your baby's bottom.
he grabbed one of the three diapers from the bag, making a mental note to order more diapers once she was asleep. he may not know much, but he knew that two diapers wouldn't last the rest of the afternoon and the night.
Close the new diaper.
he pulled the tabs away from where they were, and pulled them around to the front, mimicking the way he found the diaper in the first place.
he placed her shorts back on, and stood up. he lifted her up, and carried her into the living room, where he sat her on the ground in front of the tv.
"stay." he told her, and walked back into the bedroom to dispose of the diaper.
his heart dropped into his stomach when he walked back, however. Maeve wasn't where he left her. he thought if she was on the floor, she'd have less of a chance of getting hurt when he wasn't right there.
he glanced around the open concept area of his apartment, and saw a burgundy bum disappear around the corner, towards the laundry room.
he raced after her, and scooped her up just before she entered the room.
"lets not go in there, its not safe." he said, sternly, but immediately knew it was the wrong decision when she burst into tears.
"shit." he said. he turned her around, and held her the way he'd seen Anais hold her earlier. "its okay. i'm sorry."
she settled down slightly after his apology, and laid her head on his shoulder. he saw her eyes flutter closed, and made his way back through his apartment to the bedroom. he shut the door softly, attempting not to wake her, and placed her now sleeping body on his bed.
he'd done some research last night, and knew he should move the pillows from around her. she was only 7 months, and he knew she was still in the SIDS risk category. he didn't want to risk it, so he moved the pillows and placed them around her as a makeshift crib. he turned around, and faced the actual crib, which was only half assembled.
he sighed and got to work.
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Maeve stayed asleep for a few hours, which according to her file, was normal for her.
he headed into the kitchen, and looked at the box that held her highchair. it was almost 3 pm, so she'd most likely be hungry by the time she awoke.
August found that the highchair was much easier to assemble. it took him only 15 minutes rather than a few hours.
next, he scoured his cabinets for something suitable for her to eat while he ordered dinner.
he rarely bought groceries any more, since he was barely home due to missions, which was something he needed to talk to Sloane about. would she still let him on missions? would he be stuck on desk duty? who would watch Maeve? if he did find someone to watch her, would they be suitable to his taste for watching her?
he shook those questions out of his head briefly, and found Cheerios.
he loved Cheerios, and hoped that Maeve would too. her file said that she could eat most foods, and decided to order Chinese food for dinner. wasn't the healthiest for her, but it would do. he also ordered a few more things for Maeve, such as diapers, baby food and snacks, and few toys. he didn't know if she had other toys when she was living with her mother, but she needed some.
while he waited for her to wake up, and the food and baby items to arrive, he looked up some toys that he could get for her. he thought about what he played with, but the memory was fuzzy, and he didn't think Legos were suitable for a 7 month old.
he ended up buying a Children's Factory 5 Piece Ball Pit, a Melissa and Doug play kitchen, an iPad, a few Barbies, big Lego blocks, a few books and puzzles. he knew it wouldn't be everything he needed, but it was a start. he glanced around the apartment, and decided to start looking for a bigger one.
the one he lived in, while small, was rather expensive. it was only. one bedroom, but had a full laundry, two full bathrooms, a large terrace, and even an outdoor entertaining area upstairs. he knew Maeve would need a playroom, and a bedroom, and he'd need an office so he could keep Maeve and work separate.
he was about to look at apartments when he heard Maeve crying, he little sobs tugging on his heart strings already.
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dinner time went rather well, August thought. he gave her small cut up bits of everything, and the only thing she didn't like was the fortune cookie. she ate up all the noodles, and the lemon chicken, as well as the Cheerios.
he decided to skip bath time for today, he was way to nervous to handle a wet slippery baby by himself right now.
he put a sheet on her mattress, and laid her down with her stuffy, and her pacifier, and she drifted off to sleep rather easily.
August laid in his bed and watched his daughters chest move up and down while she slept.
that wasn't too bad, he thought to himself.
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husbandograveyard · 4 years
Note
Congratulations on 500!!!! hope I made it in time! Can I request “Close your eyes --- I don’t want you to see me like this.” HC with Marco? And can you make it a happy ending please?
aaaaaaaa thank you! Finally the first one from the angstbox. I am super excited to get this one out. It’s ehm... long for headcanons, I just kind of slipped but I am pretty sure no one will get mad about it lmao. Hope you like it anon! 
After the fight - Marco x Reader HC 
tw: slight gore, death, character death, angst with happy ending, hurt /comfort, mentions of blood, violence and injuries
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There was chaos. There was just so so so much chaos. You had known beforehand that saving Ace could become messy business, but the pure onslaught you were witnessing at Marineford was just heartbreaking. Marine soldiers and pirates alike, everyone that wasn’t necessarily strong, got caught at the wrong place at the wrong time got hurt, mortally wounded or hurt enough to be carrying this trauma with them forever.
There were weapons flying through the air, pieces of walls and buildings colliding onto the ground already covered in rubble and bodies. It took your breath away in the worst way possible. 
You were stunned for a second by the view of a crewmate from a division different than yours getting hit, not sure if they were going to survive that fall, and the confusion and momentary panic was enough for yourself to get hit by the assailant that only just attacked your crewmate. 
Pain took over and you screamed before you passed out.
When you came to, the devastation was even worse. People were retreating, looking for survivors amongst the bodies of their fallen comrades. It was then you noticed Pops first, and in search for your boyfriend, the one that could always make everything better, you noticed Ace and his brother. 
The emotional pain from such a devastating sight vastly overwhelmed the slight relief you felt when you spotted familiar blue wings. He was fine. 
And then, when the initial shock wore off, you felt the pain again. The right side of your face so overwhelmingly hot, and it was then you spotted your reflection in a weapon lying on the floor. The sword of your assailant had gone straight through the soft tissue of your right cheek, effectively making you lose part of your face. It was still bleeding profusely, but with adrenaline and shock taking over, you had yet to register how lightheaded you were. 
You did not know how you managed to get out of the battlefield and close enough to Marco for him to spot you once the war was finally called to a halt, all you knew was that you were crying endless tears and the moment Marco spotted you, immediately you felt shame and regret overtaking the initial relief. He shouldn’t see you like that. 
You were scooped up before you even realised what was going on, turning your bleeding face away, too weak to struggle. You wanted to say his name but all that came out were choked sobs. It did not help that he wasn’t saying anything either, too focussed on getting you out and treating you and your other wounded crewmates. Besides, he just lost his father and one of his best friends as well, you felt like an unnecessary burden, taking away his time and unable to comfort him in what may very well be the worst moment of either of your lives. 
The next time you woke up, it was days later, your face all wrapped up in bandages, along with all your other wounds treated so well there was barely any trace left of them. Your whole body was still incredibly sore and every little move hurt. Phoenix fire had helped tremendously, but when you touched your face you were reminded that it was not enough to perform miracles. 
“hey, you’re up” You turned your head slightly to see Marco. He looked completely unharmed, but worse than you had ever seen him. His eyes were tired and empty behind his glasses and even though he was offering you a soft smile in comfort, you could see that he was completely broken and tired, he probably barely got any sleep in between taking care of the wounded, and you had no idea what else he had taken up, but knowing your boyfriend he was probably overloading himself with work to keep busy and distract himself. 
You instinctively turned your face away, feeling tears well up. He must’ve seen the damage done to your face, and you were not ready for that confrontation yet. 
“Y/n, can you look at me?” 
“ I’ll turn my face but… Marco, please… Close your eyes --- I don’t want you to see me like this.” 
Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper, having not been used for a while. Your throat hurt, but not as much as your heart was aching. You were such a disappointment and for a second, the intrusive thought that you would be better off dead crossed your mind. Before you could spiral any further, Marco spoke up again. 
“Y/n…”
You turned to face him, tears now spilling out of your eyes and dripping onto the bandages covering most of the lower half of your face. You cast your eyes down, not daring to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry” 
“Y/n.” The way he spoke your name made your head hurt. So kind. “I love you. No matter what you look like. No matter what happened. I-” his voice cracked uncharacteristically and it was his turn to look away for a second, taking off his glasses and furiously rubbing his eyes. 
“I thought I lost you. And I couldn’t lose another-... Not after Ace and Pops…. “ 
You were sobbing at the sight, he looked so sad, so broken. You wanted to move closer, to hug him, to kiss him, to hold him close and tell him everything would be better. You had rarely seen him sad, and never so broken. It hurt you even more than you thought possible. You loved this man so much; seeing him like this was just the worst. 
“so don’t say sorry. I am just happy you’re still here.”
“So you’ll stay? You won’t regret it?” you sniffled, reaching out your hand to softly touch his face, the closest you could get in your current condition.  
He placed one of his hands over yours, looking you straight in the eyes. “I’ll stay. I’m never letting go”.
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seulgiology · 4 years
Text
hugs and kisses | na jaemin
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pairings: boyfriend!jaemin x girlfriend!reader
words: 1.6k
genre: fluff
synopsis: jaemin helps his girlfriend when she comes to him stressed because of school. (lmao sorry i’m bad at these)
warnings: lowercase intended bc i wrote this on my phone, but otherwise, none :P
a/n: hiii hello it’s adnim 2 here with some jaemin fluff for ya. wrote this while eating a variety of foods and jaemin has been on my mind a lot lmao so here y’alls go. wrote this on my phone btw so like if there are any typos, sorryyy i didn’t really go over it like i should’ve.
disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)
--
there was light chatter being heard through the class you were in. you weren’t a part of the chatter however because you were too focused on your assignment. 
for some reason, you couldn’t get your head fully focused today and you were getting frustrated. it seemed like the universe was against you today because suddenly a classmate of yours is sitting next to you. 
you slowly look up at her but don’t say anything, just give a curt nod of your head. “hey y/n, i noticed you over here working hard. do you need help?” she kindly asks. 
your eyes that was skimming the words on your laptop for the tenth time, suddenly stop. they narrow instead and your lips purse. your chest caves in and you feel your nose burning, throat constricting. you were going to cry. 
“i, uh— i’m fine but thank you,” you assure her, clearing your throat and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
you keep your eyes on your laptop, refusing to meet her gaze and it stays like that until she leaves. you release a shaky breath, not knowing what has you on edge today. 
maybe it’s the stress with the finals coming up next week and you’re overworking yourself. you couldn’t help it though as it was such a flaw of yours. you were up late last night going over a practice question that you just couldn’t get. it’s probably why you’re extra sensitive to your emotions today. 
when the class is dismissed, you pack up your stuff and leave the classroom. your feet are suddenly moving quicker as you walk the hallways filled with students. 
you’re just looking for one person. this one person is the only one who can calm you down. it was the end of the day and you know he had classes today. you weren’t sure what his last class was but you know it wasn’t in the same building as yours. his locker was in the same building and you knew if he wasn’t there, he was waiting for you in front of your building with his friends. 
you go to your locker first and grab your coat, putting it on over your clothes and putting your beanie on. your gloves and scarf are placed on after that and then you're rushing to look for him.
when you go to his locker, you whine under your breath when he isn’t there. feeling your emotions building up again, you sniffle, trying to keep them at bay so you won’t burst down crying in front of everyone.
the students aren’t in a hurry but they’re not trying to stay longer at school. shuffling around them was a struggle as well because when someone would even bump into you, it felt like you would just cry then and there. 
the entrance of the building couldn’t have appeared sooner. you knew he was waiting for you in the front of the building and that motivated you to push through the doors, the cold winter air slamming into you and causing a quick shiver. 
you walk down the few stairs and when your feet meet the cobblestoned ground, your eyes dart around in search of your boyfriend. there you see him near a tree with his friends, laughing wholeheartedly and saying something afterward. 
when your eyes tear up, you’re not sure whether it’s because you’re relieved to see him or your emotions are about to fully come to the front. it didn’t take you long to get to him and when you did, you made sure he saw you first. 
your hand touches his arm and he jumps a bit before looking down at you. a grin is immediately seen on his face but it’s slowly wiped away when he scans over your face. he knew something was wrong, he always did. 
his friends greeted you but you just nodded politely. jaemin didn’t say anything to you just yet and instead tangled your fingers with his, wanting to hold you closer but not wanting that to be your breaking point. 
“okay guys, we'll catch up later, take care of yourselves and get home safe,” jaemin tells them with a short nod of his head. they bid him farewell too and then the two of you are walking the route to his apartment. 
“princess, are you okay?” he softly asks, this time his arm wraps around your shoulder so you’re close to his side. his warmth was a stark contrast to the cold air but it made you relax a bit. 
“let’s talk when we reach your place,” is what you whisper and jaemin frowns at the tone of your voice, but complies nonetheless. 
usually, these days after classes, jaemin and you would go to this small cafe on campus to get some hot chocolate and maybe work on some homework there. other times, his friends would join. but if that wasn’t happening then the two of you would either go to his or your place. 
he knew you guys could go to the cafe any
other day, today would just have to wait because you’re more important. 
it took the two of you under fifteen minutes to reach his apartment. your feelings were pushing to the front the closer you got and when you guys reached his door inside, he let go of your hand to unlock his front door. 
jaemin closes the door behind you and it’s silent as the two of you take your winter wear off, replacing shoes with slippers. “let’s go to my room,” jaemin suggests and you can only nod, letting him take your hand and guide you to his room. 
you don’t even get to sit on his bed before you’re bursting into tears. the sobs shake your body and they’re so heart wrenching it hurts. 
jaemin’s eyes widen when seeing you break down but he jumps into action. his arms wrap around you, rubbing your back and running his fingers through your hair soothingly. his heart breaks hearing you cry so heavily and he doesn’t know the cause of it. he wanted to make you feel better but he would just hold you until you were ready to talk. 
even though you’re crying, you’re able to register your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your upper body to the best he can. it’s as if he’s trying to protect you from the world and it makes you want to cry harder. 
“i’m sorry,” you manage to say between your sobs, pulling back slightly to messily wipe at your face. “crying like this out of nowhere, i suck,” you laugh sadly. 
“hey, no no, it’s okay y/n,” jaemin assures you, cupping your hot cheeks in his hands and wiping at them with his thumbs. “don’t apologize for having feelings, okay? it’s okay for you to cry and you don’t suck.”
you look into his warm, brown eyes with your own watery eyes and sniffle. you hug him again due to all the emotion you’re feeling towards him now, and he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, squeezing you lightly. 
“do you want to talk about it, princess?” jaemin softly asks. you nod your head stiffly against his chest and jaemin pulls away, leading you to his bed. the two of you sit down and face each other. 
jaemin’s hands hold one of yours as your other hand is occupied with wiping at your tear-stained cheeks. 
“i’m a bit overwhelmed, i think,” you mumble, confusing yourself with your choice of words. “i don’t know if it’s because of the finals coming up and the fact i’ve been pushing myself past my limits. maybe it is but i don’t know, it’s just too much at once.”
you felt an apology at the tip of your tongue for your bad explanation and for wasting his time. but before you could, jaemin is pinching your chin in between his thumb and index finger, staring intensely into your orbs. 
“i know what you’re about to say,” he says and the light tone of his voice makes your bottom lip quiver. “you’re probably thinking you shouldn’t have said what you just said and that it’s silly. but y/n, it’s okay to feel the way you’re feeling right now. i can’t tell you what to do but i can suggest you take a break and try to slow down. i’ll be here for you like i always am, okay? if you decide to push yourself past your limits then i’m going right past them with you.” 
his words echo in your head for a solid minute as the two of you sit in silence. your lips part in awe to him because you just can’t believe he has so much patience for you. but at the same time, you can believe it. the love and adoration you feel for him can’t even be put into words so you want to show it instead. 
you grab the back of his neck and bring his face a little closer. jaemin seems to get the message and tilts your head upwards, placing his lips over yours. 
it’s a slow kiss but it’s enough to express your emotions. his hand moves from your face when you decide to swing your left leg over his legs, now straddling him and tangling your hands in his hair. “thank you,” you pant out, kissing him harder than before. 
“i’m always here for you, princess,” he whispers, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. you keep your eyes closed and caress the hairs on the nape of his neck. 
“always.” 
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violetwonders · 5 years
Text
Blubbering Mess
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college!AU with mr. hot guy Rowoon prompts: “Why are your feet so cold?” and “You’re my new pillow.” word count: 2,766 warning: uhh kind of steamy… I guess lmao,, but dw it’s 99% fluff, 1% angst (?)
a/n: support sf9!!! support rowoon’s new drama airing in sept!!! loosely inspired by miss ailea infinitum-imaginaerum if you ever read this I love you your writings gave me inspo <3 i hope you gain strength and that you’ll be happy! ++ also not rly sure if there's alcohol that tastes like water,,, welppp ignore it pls
  “Your food is getting cold,” Somebody whispers in your ear as the chair besides you scrapes with a loud screech. Your head snaps up in slight surprise. You feel something in your guts knotting at the sight of him, and you find yourself fearing it. The faint scent of him fills your senses. You quickly turn your attention back to the papers in front of you, but somehow, you can’t seem to focus on them anymore.
Not trusting yourself to speak, you opt to let out a small sound of affirmation instead. You haven’t seen him a while.
“What are you doing?” Rowoon leans in, his arm touching yours as he tries to peek at your papers. “Studying.” You plainly reply, trying not to focus on how a simple touch of his arm makes your heartbeat ring in your ears. “Studying? Seriously? Hey, we haven’t seen each other in two weeks!” He slightly chides with a laugh.
“Aren’t you coming back yet? The dorm is a mess without you. I can’t live with Dawon alone.” He shakes his head, strands from his made hair falling. At his words, you can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah? Do you now get how hard it had been on me when you went for an MT?” You remember how Dawon had gotten drunk and puked all over the room. You had to clean it up with your nose clipped painfully and buckets of water and towels wasted.
Rowoon laughs freely, the action successfully capturing the attention of nearby students in the cafeteria. At this, you smile at him. “Okay, okay, fine; I agree, you’ve had it worse than me.” He grins at you fondly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “I missed you.” He casually declares in the same tone.
Your heart drops in surprise but also in bitter acceptance. You know he doesn’t mean it like that. You try to nod as casually as him, “Yeah, I did, too.” The words get stuck in your throat, but you let it out anyways. He would never think of you more than a close friend.
Keys jingle as you try to open the door to your dorm. It’s been two weeks since you last stayed with the boys because of club activities requiring you somewhere else, and as Rowoon had mentioned, you were sure the room was unkempt and messy. However, what you did not expect when you opened the door was to find Dawon and Rowoon cleaning the room. Well, more like Dawon cleaning and Rowoon standing idly.
“What are you guys doing?” You couldn’t help but ask incredulously, your eyebrows knitted in sheer suspicion and your suitcase rolling into a stop beside you. Dawon, cleaning. The two just didn’t seem right together. Rowoon, you could understand. His side of the room is always spick and span, but Dawon?
At the sound of your voice, Dawon’s head immediately turns. “Oh my goodness, my princess! My love! My honey! You’re back! Why didn’t you tell me?” He dramatically drops the broom and dustpan he’s holding in both hands and comically skips to you. You can’t help but smile a little. You missed him and his antics, too. “Surprise…?” You muse unsurely. “Damn it, I think I’m going to cry. It’s been so hard without you.” Dawon fictitiously sobs, his face morphing into a frown. He grabs the surprised you into a rough hug, and you let out a laugh.
“It’s only been two weeks, Dawon. Rowoon didn’t even greet me like this.” You share amusedly, but despite your contradicting words, you pat his back. “Without you, that bad jerk Rowoon had been torturing me! He kept on nagging me to clean my stuff and to sleep early and to take a bath and to study and to eat vegetables and to stop ordering so much take-outs and to-”
“Yah, she does that to you, too!” Rowoon finally voices out his complaints and jogs up to you and Dawon, who is now glowering in mock annoyance at the tall guy. “She so does not! My princess is an angel. I missed you so much; don’t ever leave again.” Dawon clings onto your arm, which you subtly reject by pulling away from him gently. A smile lights up your face in amusement.
“Why were you cleaning?” You decide to question instead.
“Oh, right!” Dawon gasps. You see a small grimace climb up Rowoon’s face and become curious. You turn your attention back to Dawon. The playful guy grins widely, “I convinced that giant over there to come to a party in exchange for me cleaning.” He pops both thumbs up while nodding victoriously to himself. You look over to Rowoon to check his expression. He scratches his temple sheepishly, “He cleaned – well, he’s trying to clean – two weeks of mess, so I think it’s going to be fine. I just need to steer away from alcohol.”
You know how easily drunk Rowoon gets, and as sad as that was, it was also comical. Despite his tough, handsome looks, he couldn’t handle a few shots for his life. Already picturing him cutely drunk in your mind, you stifle a laugh, “Going to a party means inevitable alcohol drinking, Seokwoo. But fine, it’s almost a miracle Dawon is doing any form of cleaning anyway.”
Dawon calls your name, shaking your arm eagerly with a big grin. “You should come, too. It’s been so long since we’ve hung out with each other!”
Although he says that, you knew you were going your separate ways during the party. He usually got too jumpy and excited to stay with the two of you, anyway. Nevertheless, you get what he means and nod casually. “Sure, I guess I should.” If Rowoon ever got drunk, at least you were there to stay sober.
As you expected from usual college parties, the atmosphere was already warm with packed bodies dancing against each other and loud music blasting against your ears the moment you enter in. Thankfully, it doesn’t smell as sweaty as the other parties you’ve been to, so you could actually handle walking around the house. Probably because it’s so big, you wonder, as Dawon catches your attention by slinging an arm around your shoulder.
“Hey, princess, enjoy the party. I’ll talk to you guys later.” He ruffles your hair gently before walking his way up to someone.
“So, it turns out he leaves us as soon as we walk into the scene. Where do you fancy going?” Rowoon leans down to your height, a playful twinkle in his eyes. You cautiously take a step back because he is too close. Trying to forget the blush that is slowly climbing up to your face, you offer, “Do you want to go to the kitchen?”
“Are you hungry?” He asks into your ear as the loud bass continues to drown the voices around you the deeper you walk into the house. “Not really, but it’s really noisy here!” You half-yell into his, as Rowoon grabs a hold of your wrist gently and starts to lead you through the bodies. “Don’t get lost then!” He playfully yells, before looking back to grin at you charmingly. You feel a squirm in your insides. You were starting to regret coming to this party.
The trip to the kitchen isn’t that far. When you arrive, you find that it’s empty for the most part, just about two to three people chatting against the countertops to the left. Beer bottles, a few bowls of punch and plastic cups fill the island. You spot bags of chips beside the drinks and grab one for the both of you. “It’s much quieter here.” You announce the obvious, trying to say something to break the semi-awkward silence.
“Yeah, better,” Rowoon says, as he reaches for the bag of chips you were idly holding. You watch as he easily rips it open with his hands. Handing it to you, he asks, “So, what did you do during your club retreat?” Just like that, you two fell into easy, comfortable conversation. He always had that effect – that effect of making everything seem fine just by talking to you. That’s what developed your crush towards him in the first place. You could always trust him to make you feel better, simple as it was.
As the two of you finished half the bag, he licks his lips and looks around in search for something. “I’m kind of thirsty now.” Rowoon finds water bottles near the island and screws the cap of one open. “Yah, be careful.” You warn. It was a harmless bottle, but you could never be too sure. “This is just water,” he reassures you.
You grab a bottle yourself. It tasted like flavored water, so you down half of it. “Do you want to dance?” Rowoon tilts his head to the source of the music. “I’m not really a good dancer.” You reveal with a sheepish chuckle. “Well, I can teach you. Come on.” He tugs at your wrist encouragingly, despite your small protests. The music grows louder and louder as he leads you near the center.
“Come on, jump.” Rowoon grins as he jumps to show you. You laugh, “This is so ridiculous, Seokwoo.” But you jump with him anyway, as his melodious laugh rings around you. “Jump to get the feeling of adrenaline.” He advises, now throwing his hands up to the air to the beat of the music. Soon, you do get the feeling that he described and eventually loosen up.
“See! You’re good at dancing!” He grins, naturally reaching to settle his hand on your waist. Almost immediately, the previous happy grin on your face falls, and the feeling is replaced by a nervous flutter in your stomach. Rowoon doesn’t seem to notice, so you gain courage and gulp your panic away. You slowly step closer to him and place a hand on his shoulder.
He turns his head down at you, a little caught off guard. You’re too shy to look up and instead stare at his shoes that suddenly seem more interesting. Rowoon chuckles, finding you insanely cute. He snakes the hand that was on your waist to the small of your back and gently pushes you closer to him. Your heart stops beating for a second before he tilts your chin up with his other hand.
“I don’t think I can handle how cute you are.” His voice is low but you hear every word he says despite the loud music around you. His eyes are a bit darker in contrast to the excited glint they sported earlier, and you visibly gulp under his stare. Rowoon leans in closer, and you can’t seem to breathe.
His lips find yours in a short moment, and you find a faint taste of the chips you had earlier. Despite it, his lips still tasted so good and so like him. You wonder why you didn’t find the courage to kiss him much earlier. All nervousness and fear wash away from you as Rowoon holds you tighter to him. Your hand reaches out to gently tug at his hair and the other rests flush against his chest.
“I should’ve done this much earlier,” he hums regretfully against your lips before capturing them again with his. Your eyes flutter close as you tilt your head to kiss him better. He was so, incredibly sweet, and you came to an inevitable decision that you could never get tired of him.
Rowoon’s kisses turn much more passionate as he nips at your lips. His hands continue to tug you closer and closer to him, even though you’re already so pressed against him. When you part for air, his eyes are much darker. He grabs your hand before tugging you to a dark hallway where there aren’t much people.
As soon as the both of you are out of obvious eyesight, he gently pushes you against the wall. Before doing anything, he looks into your eyes, now a little gentler. “Are you okay with this?” Rowoon whispers. You don’t have to ask me anything, you think in your head, but instead, you answer him by locking your arms around his waist to pull him to you. “Yes,” you answer, a little desperate.
He half-smirks, a happy glint in his eyes, before he crashes his lips back on yours. Eagerly, the two of you press against each other, and Rowoon breaks away to kiss the side of your mouth. He kisses your jaw, then moves down to kiss your neck. “Seokwoo-yah,” you couldn’t help but sigh out, your hands now gripping his hair tighter. At first, you felt him peppering your neck with soft kisses, then it gradually came to a stop.
“Seokwoo?” You question when you don’t feel anything anymore. You look down to see his head resting on the crook of your neck. “Seokwoo.” You shake his shoulder, but he lightly grunts in reply. “Is he… sleeping?” You realize in surprise, yet you can’t help but laugh. Was it the water? Was it actually alcohol? You ponder. You do feel a little bit light-headed.
Why did it taste like water? But you don’t think much of it. Rowoon’s head is getting heavier on your shoulder. He got me riled up for nothing. He’s lucky he’s cute, you think as you try to push him away from your body to sling an arm around his shoulder. His head lolls on top of your head. You glance at his sleeping face and chuckle.
Getting him back to your dorm was pretty tiring. You had to inform Dawon you both were leaving because Rowoon accidentally drank something and had to take his car to get home. Dawon was also a bit drunk, but he agreed, knowing that Rowoon getting back to the dorm was a better option than leaving him in the party. He assured you he could go back home with another friend, and then you left.
On the drive home, he woke up a few times but he was still a drunk, blubbering mess. He kept on poking your cheek and kept on grinning cutely. It took your willpower to keep on driving and to not kiss him instead. As soon as you parked in the driveway, he went outside and started running wildly. You had to chase him and ask him to quiet down. He then kept on pouting and acting upset. Seriously, he was so childish when he got drunk, but also so incredibly cute.
Now you’re currently fishing your keys out of your pocket to open the door to your dorm, while Rowoon is swaying from side to side behind you. “Where are we?” He asks innocently, poking your shoulder a few times. “We’re at the dorm. It’s time we sleep,” you say and open the door wide for him to go in.
“What?” His eyes go as wide as saucers. “We… you… I… sleep? Together?” Rowoon gasps. You laugh as you push him in, “Yeah, we’re going to sleep. Why, you don’t want to sleep?”
“No… no, that’s not it. But… Rowoonie thinks it’s too early to sleep together.” Rowoon scratches his temple, a drunk red flush on his cheeks. You close the door. “Why? It’s just sleeping?” You stifle a laugh, teasing him. “Rowoonie… Rowoonie not ready.” He continuously shakes his head. You gasp when he stumbles to the side. You then release a relieved laugh, “I’m just joking, Seokwoo.”
“O-oh…” He quiets down. You can’t help your big grin. He’s really such a cute drunk. “Lay down there.” You point to his bed on the left, and he obediently lies down. You take his shoes and socks off. “Why are your feet so cold?” You ask a little bit worried. “It was really cold in the car.” Rowoon reveals, pulling his blanket up to his chin.
Looking at him buried in the covers with only his face peeking out made you really warm and fuzzy inside. He’s so cute, you think for the umpteenth time. You sit down by his side, stroking his hair. “If you’re sleepy, go ahead and sleep.”
“Can you stay with me, please?” He quietly requests, as you soften. “Yeah, of course I will.” You slide down next to him, the both of you gazing at each other. Rowoon snuggles into you. “You’re warm. You’re my new pillow,” he mumbles against the expanse of your shirt. “Thanks for being here with me…” Rowoon confesses as he drifts to sleep.
“You’re welcome,” you whisper and press a soft kiss against his forehead.
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mtnkat3 · 2 years
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10.12am
Whimpering softly moan & sobbing & wobbly & teary tooo... then why... because You wanted to see me but didn't want to disrupt family time?
my Love/s...DOne... I want to meet them tooo. Alll of Your/Alll's family's & close friends. Yeah, DPOne... even. Shuddering shaky breath.
I just hope I don't embarrass You Alll because I'm chubby. Right now. If my feet weren't swollen I'd be walking on the beach. Even walking to search for DPOne... but right now my left foot especially is at least twice normal size. Almost like when I had sun poisoning. So I'm sitting in the shade, trying to stay off it, using 3 aleve. [Worried about kidneys but got to.] Hobbling ... I went & for my duffles out at 5.30am. No bra or panties, just tank, shorts, jacket & hat, & slowly got my stuff reorganized. Neat freak/ocd... nerves.
💡🤓🤔 on Your terms. Not mine. But You Alll wanted to seee me there tooo? Making the effort...?
Even did the continental breakfast at 7am. I'm kinda proud of myself! ☺️😊😉😏
It's hard for me to do that. I'd rather get something then take it to my room. But that's not what You/Alll are wanting me to learn.
You/Alll want me to be out & living again!
Should I wear that new hat... or ... I got Grunt, favorite pink, some beachy ones I had embroidered with Tijgeress. 🤔
Heck, I'm wearing a pink snug fitting tank with "faith over fear' on the front. Ironically... the over ↔️ is under my boobs! Lmao! &...can see the burn/tan lines.🙄 & black workout skort.
I'm hoping to be able to walk later today. & I found 100 proof protection at publix! That, hat & sarong I think will help protect everything. Sigh. It's ridiculous because I was always tan as a kid! But when I turned from dirty blonde to auburn...the skin went milky fair. So then my veins are kinds obvious.
Sleeping in a king size bed... I'm stretching across it, hugging all the pillows & crying. .. taking a shower in that huge four person box... that one is hard... & not Your/Alll's hard bodies... whimpering moan. I had to focus on the poor water pressure barely getting my hair wet to not go completely off into the ether... still messed up with the whole cst vs est. Last time was Holland in 2000. Haven't been anywhere but mb & hhi.
Anyways. I digress!
I wanna make Alll of our dreams come true my Love/s!!! I wanna see smiles of happiness every morning when You/Alll wake up beside me.
I want to be One with You/Alll ...
[Just popped in my head.]
nibble on my neck...
hold me... touch me... let me touch You/Alll... You/Alll know I'm very tactile... very sensory... primal... wanna sit across my beloved Bear/s so badly... show You/Alll my love is more than enough to overflow Your/Alll's tanks... & I mean the love tank...
Not the water treatment I can seee...
I mean that You/Alll will feeel my love so deeply, richly, fully for eternity that You/Alll are the happiest maverick Bear/s walking the planet! Full of honey...milk... cinnamon...sugar... cause not an inch of You/Alll I don't wanna cover in kisses. Including scars & tattoos.
That the baby squealing in upset & terror [that is loud even on 4th flr] because never been in a pool... won't be ours... get them in the water as infants! [I'm really the only one in my family who enjoys swimming. Can't You/Alll tell??? Long showers... mainly enjoying the water beating me... sheepish blushin grin. but love pools & wanna get back in the ocean too.]
my Love/s... I wanna sleep in Your/Alll's arms & know that I'm loved. & that I'm safe. & free. Finally. To be the woman I am. Inside. Still shy but the insecurities faded from memory with effort, & Your/Alll's love making me feel beautiful. That You/Alll think of kissing my neck, hugging my body back into Your/Alll's... that You Alll want me... that way... that it's only me that makes You/Alll feel the way...You/Alll make me feeel... our dynamic. Not society's. Ours. Maverick Bear/s...King/s... & Your/Alll's queen Tijgeress. Finding my feet, as You/Alll slowly lead me out of the darkest tunnel... I am coming out of the cajoling cocoon.. into a beautiful life. With You/Alll. Alll I will ever want in the whole of the universe.
I want to make every day beautiful, bright, special, & happy for each of You/Alll!!!
I love You/Alll beyond measure DOne, DPOne, & Alll.
And yes, I miss You/Alll in my sleep tooo.
Oh geeish t!🙄😏 this is me. Wanting to be connected to You/Alll & hating closing!
I love & adore & want & desire & need & crave & knewd & want & crave & goin bonkers here!!!
I am Your's/s' dangit DOne DPOne &Alll!!!
Get it thru Your/Alll's heads
& please... OMG...please... please... Bear/s... come 'ere... cause... I'm coming to find You DPOne... DOne... & Alll!!!
But DPOne... if I start knocking on homes... whimpering. I won't freak people out? Chewing lips..
I need You/Alll here. Help me. Please? DPOne? DOne? Alll?
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[This is typical of me. Especially with You/Alll. Why I use it. But under "kneeling." Wth🙄🤔]
I am Your's/s'.
Every which way but loose.
11.23am. cst.
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