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criminalamnesia · 7 months

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ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!

I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.

this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)

[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]

part one here, part two here, ending 1 here

your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.

you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.

you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.

you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.

fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.

you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.

you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.

you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.

“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.

“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.

“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”

he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.

but your guard is up. you don’t know him.

“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.

“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.

“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.

but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.

it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.

but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.

“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.

“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.

his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.

“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.

that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.

you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.

“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.

as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.

“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”

he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”

you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.

you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.

next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.

you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.

but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.

he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.

“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.

“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.

“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.

“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.

“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”

“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“nah, I don’t think so.”

your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.

“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.

“friend emergency.”

he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”

he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”

“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.

“guilty.”

you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.

‘friend okay?’ he types.

‘all good.’ you respond.

he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.

‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’

you smile as you read the message.

‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.

a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.

he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.

you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.

but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.

“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”

your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.

simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.

your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.

you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.

it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.

the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.

when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.

you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.

the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.

the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.

you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.

a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.

you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.

he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.

“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.

when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.

you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.

the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.

the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.

he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.

“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.

“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”

your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”

he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.

“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”

you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”

you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.

“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”

“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.

“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”

you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.

that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.

the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.

and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.

a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.

someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.

he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.

instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.

——————————————————————

author’s note:

ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.

how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?

I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.

anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

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thisismeracing · 7 months

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Your time | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader ― Warnings: mentions of cheating; lots of rumors about lewis being an a*hole; mentions of juliana nalu and shakira, but all fictional. ― Summary: A couple months after the biggest breakup in the F1 paddock, your song gets leaked and the internet uproars about your relationship again. This time they have more ammunition than ever to feed the narrative that Lewis Hamilton cheated on you. Are they right though? (based on this request).

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

September, 2023

paddockgossip

liked by ynfan, haileybieber, and others

paddockgossip how would you guys feel if your man goes out with another singer and looks this cozy while you’re out there on tour working your ass off? 👀

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sunshineyn you know shits real when her friend hailey likes the post…

⤷ pinterestyln I thought the same

leclercnation you guys forgot to add that yn and shakira aren’t friends, were never seem together, couldnt bother to talk about one another, yet this is the second time we see her around lewis this week…

randuser @ yourusername bestie come get your man!

schumakatchau this looks oddly like a double date

raintyres GUYS HIS HAND PLACEMENT!!! HES HOLDING SHAKIRAS WAIST 😭😭😭😭

tomdayastan my girl Yn doesn’t deserve this

evansnature are you guys really that surprised? He’s a man, I expect anything from a man

January, 2024

February, 2024

f1wagsupdate

liked by pierregasly, mbappeworld, and others

f1wagsupdate According to our sources Yn Yln and Lewis Hamilton broke up ealier this month. There is not an official reason yet, but most fans believe that cheating was the cause of the downfall of the four-years-long relationship.

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user44 is true love even real?

gomezracing I hate it in here

drugobitch what if its because of the cheating rumors?

⤷ rand32 but why would she wait weeks after it?

likedbypgasly and so it goes the best wag of the paddock :(

mclarenmason did you guys see that thread someone made about Yn's looks on the paddock and her cheering for lew, and them matching sometimes *sobs into my hands*

yourusername

liked by roscoelovescoco, k.mbappe, and others

yourusername making music and enjoying some free time after touring 💞

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mbappeworld I wish Lewis and Kyllian weren’t friends bc I kinda ship him with Yn 😭

hailyebieber 😍😍😍😍

sza waiting for our collabbbbb! ❤️

⤷ ynfan the day these two write a song together is the day I’ll be stuck in my room crying for a week straight

ynnation She looks so relaxed, more than when she was with Lewis

hardtyres_ I wish I could be like this after being cheated on, when my ex did this to me I had to go to therapy for at least a year before going back on social media

⤷ agoradoja there’s no proof he cheated on her

⤷ winteryln sure, except for the hundreds of pics of him with singers and models 😍 but y’all taking it too serious, he was just friendly with them

⤷ agoradoja maybe he was just friendly, Lewis is famous, dare I say even more than Yn, so being friends with different famous people is part of his life.

⤷ bonoschumi I’ll have to agree with agoradoja, there’s nothing too incriminatinf, maybe we’re just trying to find a reason because we don’t accept that they fell out of love

⤷ leclercmcqueen she literally wrote “its just us against the world” for him, wdym they fell out of love????

bieberfantasy yeah but how about roscoe liking the post????? It's making me hopeful

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! It was kinda short, but hopefully worth the reading :D let me know your thoughts!

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

― Reminder: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

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xenteaart · 3 months

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contemplating mediocrity

pairing: idol!chan x reader (gn but written with f!reader in mind) word count: 0,9k genre/warnings: er, hurt to comfort, use of "baby", self-doubt, honestly not much else, pretty pg-13 author's note: heavily inspired by @withleeknow 's last seungmin fic, i couldn't handle the angst and needed to comfort myself fkdjfkdjfk. also it kinda made me reflect on why it hurt so bad so i guess this fic is a little support and comfort thingy for everyone who might not be feeling "enough". before reading you might wanna check out the inspo fic itself <3

“baby? what’s wrong?”

ah, he’s always too quick to notice.

you take your eyes off the laptop and put a video of 3racha’s festival performance on pause.

“nothing. you guys did a wonderful job, truly. ’m just… contemplating my mediocrity.”

“what?” he’s more just taken aback than anything else but you read it as irritation.

it’s one of those days when everything feels extra sensitive, even the things you can deal with well on a regular day.

“what? chris, baby, i’m not being self-deprecating, it’s just a fact. i truly could not be more proud of you, but sometimes i just can’t shake off the feeling of not doing enough compared to you.

it warms my heart to know that you are so so loved and respected, it really does. but, i guess.. it’s a little humbling too? i haven’t achieved anything nearly as grand and i don’t have thousands of people cheering for me after i do as much as breathe. which you totally deserve, by the way, i’m not saying you don’t.”

long silence follows as chris frowns, carefully crafting his next response while you’re already starting to regret you opened your mouth at all. maybe, some things should be kept to yourself. maybe, it’s not really necessary to share every dark thought that comes to your pained mind after midnight. maybe, it’s safer for your relationship to just move those conversations to a cozy zoom meeting with your therapi—

“that’s a skewed perception of our dynamic though, baby.”

oh, shit. he has the look. you know this one too well, and it says “i’m not letting this slide and we’re talking this through”.

“how so?” you feel tired and discouraged already, mostly annoyed at yourself for making your boyfriend come up with some nonsense points to make you feel better now.

“don’t put me on a pedestal. firstly, i think you’re forgetting how many people there actually are behind what we’re doing. daily. i’m talking all the staff and production teams, makeup, hair, clothes, art direction, schedule management. everything. there is literally a whole division for us that makes us look the way we look and helps us do what we love.”

you stay quiet, blinking slowly and pursing your lips together.

“which isn’t to say we don’t work hard or that we haven’t achieved anything, but it wouldn’t have been possible without all that help.

secondly, in my daily life i’m just a guy, baby. literally just a guy who loves music. nothing fancy,” chan gives you one of those wide soft smiles, and you hear your heart break a little.

“yeah, well, not every guy who loves music has the amount of awards and recognition you do, baby.”

“okay, where is this truly going?”

there it goes.

“sometimes i worry i just can’t match it? that you’ll get bored of me because i’m not over the top extraordinary or... whatever.”

you feel stupid.

“so you think i’m with you for your so-called achievements?”

you can’t come up with a response, so he continues, gently hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. his favorite way of making you feel loved.

“i’m with you because you’re my sense of normalcy, baby. you calm my mind when it’s racing too fast. you’re my safe little harbour where i can find peace after hectic schedules and loud noises and crowds. you ease the weight i carry on my shoulders every day.”

you stay silent, focusing on the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek. the tip of his nose is touching your skin lightly.

“you love the regular channie. you kiss my puffy swollen face in the mornings, and those kisses make me wonder if i’m actually not that bad without all the makeup on after all. you laugh at my jokes and cuddle me when i get needy. you listen to my darkest nastiest thoughts and never judge me for feeling whatever it is i’m feeling.

what i’m getting at is that... i can just be me around you, you know? that’s why i’m still here. and i feel so proud to have a partner with a big warm heart and a strong mind, honored to be cared for by someone so neat and beautiful in the most mundane things.

do you really think i’d measure my love and respect for you by something like fame or... some noble achievements?”

“i don’t know,” you sound even more confused than at the beginning of this suddenly serious conversation, caught off guard by chan’s words, but mostly — his tenderness towards you. his patience and the way he's willing to spell it out for you if you're feeling too low to see the whole picture yourself.

"well, then i’m telling you. that is just not the case. you’re already everything i could ask for, baby. someone passionate, honest, reliable, loving and kind. someone who holds my hands through the hard days and makes me laugh on the good days. simple as that."

the pressure on your chest is slowly fading as chan's words finally sinking in, finding their ways into your system and rendering as the truth. the ache isn't completely gone but you know it will be in the morning, when the sunrise washes the rest of your worries away.

for now, you turn around in chris's embrace and hide your nose in the crook of his neck, simply breathing and enjoying the lingering scent of his soap. skin to skin.

#skz x reader #skz bang chan #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #chan x you #bang chan x you #skz imagines #my fic #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #bang chan stray kids #skz x you #chan x female reader #bang chan x female reader #stray kids bang chan

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a-sip-of-milo · 10 months

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BPD Resources Masterlist

[NPD]

Creating this has made me realise just how much people underestimate/downplay the stigma surrounding BPD. It’s infuriating.

Anyway, here is the official resource masterlist for BPD. I will be adding to it as time goes on:)

BPD stigma

BPD stigma among clinicians

I have BPD and here’s 6 things I wish people understood

Mental health advocacy is pointless if you’ll support people with anxiety and depression but won’t support those with personality disorders

No I don’t need helping learning how to deal with a “borderline girlfriend”, I need help dealing with myself

Emotional abuse tag and BPD

The results when searching up how to manage BPD

BPD and suicide

Educating yourself on BPD

Basic info on BPD

NPD + BPD comorbidity

Why is it referred to as ‘borderline personality disorder’?

Facts vs. fiction about BPD

Living with BPD

BPD things that people don’t talk about enough

Loving with BPD is hard

Living, breathing, BPD

What it’s like living with BPD: a lived experience perspective

Managing BPD

Coping With BPD: DBT & CBT skills to soothe the symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder

The dialectal therapy skills workbook

A quick exercise: challenging self-hate

Different forms of therapy

Deep breathing gifs

Splitting with BPD

Chloe’s splitting checklist and reminders

What is splitting?

How I cope with splitting (written by someone with BPD)

BPD positivity so you don’t have to go looking

People with low/no empathy still have feelings

Several positive affirmations for people with cluster b disorders

If you have BPD, I love you

Some of the best people in my life are borderlines

You’re not a monster for having a personality disorder

So much love to my BPD bi boys out there

Positivity for systems with BPD

Positive traits of people with BPD

People with BPD deserve as much slack as neurotypicals

BPD safe blogs (also safe for cluster b disorders in general!)

@borderline-culture-is

@bpd00m

@citrine-rabbit

@cluster-b-culture-is

@gentle-positivity

@hellbrainspeaks

@your-fave-is-crippled

@mirroringshards

#bpd splitting #actually bpd #bpd stigma #actually borderline #actually neurodivergent #borderline things #cluster b #borderline personality disorder #cluster b safe #bpd #bpd stuff #bpd safe

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chyckles · 4 months

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Modern world

━ A Soldier Boy drabble

━ Pairings: soldier boy x gn!reader

━ Summary: Where you try to teach some 'modern world' decency to Soldier Boy.

━ Words: 0.7k

━ Warnings: a bit of cursing, toxic behavior (phone checking), soft!Ben because even tho I'm a sucker for bad men, I'm even more of a sucker for good ones, my bad grammar

━ A/N: Just a little something while I work in my SB series heh

You have been dating Ben for a while now, so you've grown accustomed to his toxic, macho alpha man behavior.

You're always there to correct him, though, even if it's hard. He has to accept that he lives in a new, modern world now, where people have learned to leave toxicity behind. He’s stubborn as a mule, and those types of corrections have led to more than one argument.

But he’s trying, for you. Lately he seems to treat women with more respect, says less homophobic comments, and has stopped treating you like you’re his property (mostly).

Just now, you're leaving the bathroom after a long, warm and deserved shower. Your hair is still wet, and you're wearing your pajamas, ready to go to bed.

Then you freeze. Ben’s in bed. He is looking through your phone. You sigh, this is going to be an exhausting conversation.

“Ben?” You ask with a raised eyebrow “What are you doing?”

He raises his head and looks at you calmly, like he's not doing anything wrong (because he genuinely thinks he’s not).

“I'm making sure you are not cheating on me”

“Honey” you start, you always use a pet name when you’re scolding him “Looking at the phone of your partner is toxic”

There it is, the magical word: ‘toxic’. He's grown tired of hearing it.

Ben rolls his eyes. ‘Again with the therapy session’ he thinks.

“Yeah, whatever” he says mockingly as he hands you the phone. His expression and tone of voice says you're going to need more persuasion to get to him.

You sigh as you grab your phone back.

“It shows that you don't trust me”

He rolls his eyes again and groans, leaning back.

“Look, people cheat, that's how this fucking world works”

“Well, I don’t cheat” you say as you sit next to him “Have you ever seen me looking at your phone? No, because I trust you”

He scoffs “Or maybe you're too good at hiding it…” He crosses his arms.

You roll your eyes playfully, he looks like a little kid when he stands like that.

“I love you, and I don't need to invade your privacy to know that you love me too”

He just simply narrows his eyes, and you know him enough to know that something else is crossing his mind. Something that is upsetting him. And frustrating him too.

“You seem confused, tell me what worries you” you ask, holding his hand.

He sighs and explains himself: “Well... why don't you want to check my phone? You say you love me, so why don't you? People who love each other should want to do that, right?"

"No" you say with a smile "It's... is a violation of privacy. It's like... screaming at the face of your partner: ‘I don't trust you’ I understand where you're coming from, but it's more... more complicated than that. The first foundation of a relationship should be trust”

“So… you don’t ever feel the need to check it? Not even out of curiosity?”

"Well, yeah, I have a little curiosity. But not about if you cheat on me or not, I trust enough in you to know you don't. What moves my curiosity is stuff like... what apps does a one hundred year old man have in his phone" you say with a chuckle.

He groans and rolls his eyes.

You nudge him softly. He looks at you seriously.

“Just… don’t get upset if I check your phone. For me, that's an act of love and loyalty…”

You smile softly and caress his cheek "Alright, but try not to do it a lot. I don't have anything to hide, but still, there are conversations that I prefer keeping private”

“Alright, if you promise not to cheek my Google search history”

You chuckle. A real, loud chuckle.

You expect him to say it because of porn, but in reality, his search history is filled with searches like: ‘How to make your partner happy?’, 'How to impress your partner?'

“Okay, okay, I promise” You say when you calm yourself. Then you sit in his lap, straddling him “But you understand where I'm coming from, right?”

He sighs, this 'modern' attitude of yours was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he had to admit, he liked it.

"Yes I do, I'm just a bit confused. But I trust you, and this is your century, so I'm gonna try and understand more…”

"Thank you, honey" you smile and lean in to kiss him.

#chyckles #drabble #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x gn!reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy drabble #imagine #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys drabble #fluff #reader #x reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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queenie-ofthe-void · 5 months

Text

A Desperate Fool - Part 2

written for @steddiemicrofic

Prompt: 'top' | wc: 510 | rated: T | cw: hurt/no comfort (comfort is coming I promise!), mentions of child abandonment, breakup fic, AU-Modern Rockstar!Eddie

Part 1

~~~

“Hey, Teddy Bear!”

Eddie quickly scans for the voice piercing the buzzing swarm of paparazzi outside his home. It’s a cold winter night, yet after his public outburst with Robin a week ago and the ensuing onslaught of viral videos, they never seem to leave. Attention that used to have him feeling on top of the world now only leaves him feeling like the scum of the earth.

The overtly personal nickname rings through his memories, filling him with hope and dread in equal measure.

If I’m your baby, Eds, then you’re my Teddy Bear.

A swath of red hair and a high fade catch his gaze against the light snowfall. The boy’s usual charming smile’s been replaced with a cold stare, while she’s actively scowling. Eddie rushes through the crowd, excited to see them after so long despite the circumstances. He pulls them into the safety of his home, slamming the door behind them.

“Did you honestly think Steve was the only person you abandoned?” Max asks, before Eddie can even say hello.

Abandoned. A low blow, throwing Eddie’s childhood in his face, at least before he was adopted in all but name by the Wheeler’s. But coming from Max, he thinks maybe it’s fair play. She’s always been more Harrington than Mayfield, Lucas too. Out of the bunch, they’ve always been Steve’s kids.

“Mike had to go back to therapy! Nancy actually cried,” she spits, pacing the foyer while Lucas stands stoic by the door.

“I didn’t think they’d-” Eddie starts before he’s interrupted.

“What? That your family wouldn’t be upset, feel as betrayed as Steve?” Lucas finally speaks up. “So when you bragged about outgrowing your roots, that wasn’t supposed to mean us too?”

Eddie shrinks in on himself. He’s being admonished in his own home, and he knows he deserves it. He knows, truly. He just can’t handle the overwhelming aches of guilt and regret, which pang louder with each disappointed loved one. Another reminder he’d surrounded himself with people who only care about Metal Munson.

He’s foolishly desperate to win back his family, people who loved him for himself. He wants to be Eddie again. His baby’s Teddy Bear.

“What-” he tries again, forcing words around the growing knot in his throat and watery eyes. He’s cried so much lately. “Why are you here?”

Max eyes him skeptically, glancing at Lucas and sharing a look Eddie can’t decipher. They make a silent decision, and she moves to stand by her husband at the door.

“Steve’s getting married this summer,” she states, like it’s nothing. Like it’s not the end of Eddie’s world.

The tears fall, then. He loses control of a sob before he gets his voice back. “To who?” he pitifully asks, pretending he actually wants to know.

“You don’t know her,” Lucas replies.

Her. Her. Herherherher.

“Oh,” Eddie says softly. He can’t stop shaking, or is the earth quaking beneath him.

Max sighs, sympathetic, and rips his world open further still.

“Steve wants to talk, but you’ll have to get through Nancy first.”

Part Three

~~~

I SWEAR it's gonna get better!!! Some solid Eddie and Nancy comfort coming up next. Think I might keep adding on to this fic via prompts only but we'll see.

#eddie is officially a wheeler sibling in this fic #hurt/no comfort (but the comfort IS IN FACT on it's way)#rockstar eddie munson #modern au #steddie breakup #eddie munson whump #steddie microfic #steddie ficlet #steddie prompt #eddie munson #hurt/no comfort #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #lumax #steve and max #steve and max is still my favorite thing #QueenieWritesStories

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hyukaslvr · 6 months

Text

strong enough | J. Jungkook (2)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: TBD

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

the mirrors of your practice room were foggy, the heat radiating off of your whole groups bodies as you worked your hardest to perfect all the choreographies to your newest album. you worked especially hard since last week, you took a long time to really think about what happened.

“we both know you’re just as messy,” Jungkook spat at you, you bit back your tears and fought your conscience screaming at you to walk away. this isn’t something you would just walk away from, not with your boosting ego.

“this is why we won’t work out, Jungkook, you’re acting like a bitch. fix yourself, i’ll fix me. i thought you were doing better, but it seems like you’re still the dick you were during all our fucking arguments,” you grabbed your belongings and starting walking away from his frozen figure, his words hitting him like a brick in the face. you came out here with him hoping you could talk to him, make him remember the reason why you weren’t communicating things or in contact, but he just proved to you why you shouldn’t have came.

Jungkook sat back down, right where you sat, thinking over things. anytime he would see you, he felt this rage build up inside of him. the rage coming from nowhere, yet appearing whenever your pretty face shows up in his sight. he hates it. he swore to control his anger, the way he acted when things didn’t go his way, but apparently anger management isn’t enough for him.

it’s not that he hates you, he adores you, he loves you. but sometimes, he feels like he can’t stand you. you act like you have everything in your life sorted out, when you don’t, not without him. it might be toxic of him to think of you that way, but it’s true. you know it’s true, deep inside and past your wall that you’ve built up for no one to see behind your cute personality set for the stage. only he knows the real you, at least he thinks, and he knows you have a shit ton of problems just like him.

Jungkook clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white at the thought of how he spoke to you. you don’t deserve that, but at the same time, he rightfully believes you need someone to put you in your place sometimes. but at the same time, you wish someone would knock some sense into Jungkook and make him grow up, even if he grew up way to fast, he still is childish as ever when it comes to talking about things.

you snapped out of your state of thought as one of your members patted your back, telling you to drink up some water before starting again. you wiped your face with a towel before gulping down half of your bottle, tossing it on the floor, and starting up again. thank god that you have therapy tomorrow, you thought as you stand in position once again, waiting for the music to start up.

“he said that to you?” your therapist questioned, jotting down notes quickly so you can speak more about how you felt during that moment. you felt angry, sad, all of the above. out of all people you thought would understand, Jungkook was the one you felt would. yet, he opens his mouth and speaks mean words towards you like he always did when he was struggling, never able to control what he says. but who were you to talk, you did the same things, but you were for sure better at controlling it.

“i thought we were ready to talk about why we actually broke up, i thought i was to say at the least, he for sure wasn’t,” you sighed, picking at your skin around your fresh pedicured nails out of habit. it breaks your heart, seeing him that way, he only acts like that when he’s in a deep place. you can visualize him going home, and immediately changing into work out clothes, beating on his punching back until the chain gives out, his knuckles bleeding with open wounds.

but then again, who’s ever ready to talk about a long relationship ending? at the time, walking to the park in the freezing cold, you felt ready. you walked high and proud as you were side by side with the man whose heart you constantly break. maybe he did have the right to act that way, but it still hurts coming from him. yeah, you had to figure out your shit, but so did he, so him acting like that felt hypocritical.

“darling, no one is ever ready to talk about why relationships end the way they end,” she starts again, it’s was like she was reading your mind as you sat there quietly in thought, “maybe you should of waited, but know you know for sure that now isn’t the right time to get back together, no matter how much you both want and crave it,”

“we’re like the same person, at least i like to think so. i just want him to understand why i do what i do,” it makes your head hurt thinking about reasons why he couldn’t try to understand you at the least, it was the least he could do along with loving you. he was always so unreasonable with mental health.

“just give him some time to think about what he said and how he can fix things over time, time heals everything,” bullshit.

you felt like a mess, sitting in front of the vanity mirror as you get your hair fixed by your stylist, her sweet smile as your eyes reached hers in the mirror comforted you in the slightest, you just had to get through tonight and then you’ll be able to be alone in your dorm room, in the comfort of your own bed.

“feeling anxious?” your leader lets her head fall on your shoulder, smiling at the glitter in your inner corners and poking your cheek in awe, “you’ll be okay, at least you’re pretty and have curly hair,” her finger twirls the curl resting in the small ponytail in your hair, letting it boing back to place.

once your stylist was done, she spun your chair to face your leader, who bent down to fix the curls in your face, cupping your cheeks once she was done and smiling down at you, “i just wish to be home right now,” you sigh, practically melting into her hold and she squishes your cheeks in response. you wanted to cry, the amount of promotions you had this week drained every last bit of emotion out of you.

“just put a smile on that frowny face of yours, get out there and look as cute as you always do during fansigning, we’re gonna have a party tonight!” you groan in response, she lets go of your face to cross her arms across her chest, noticing your negative response to the idea of partying, “what’s wrong with getting wasted after all these promotions? it’s not like anyone else will be there,”

that was a lie, you sat in a corner of your shared house with group after group showing up and partying, while you just wanted to be in your bed. maybe if you get drunk enough, you can dance with a random and have some fun tonight, you thought while staring at your other members already claiming other males to dance with. the lights flashing making your head hurt, as you stood up to get another glass of your drink.

there was yelling going on around you, but you chose to ignore it and downed half of your cup before heading towards your room, planning on locking your door and drowning all the noise of the party out with music. but your heart and feet stopped when hollers from the front door caught your attention. the person who took feet away from you, you wished to disappear out of his sight. no, it wasn’t Jungkook, right about now you wished it was instead of the monster who stood close in front of you, but far away at the same time

Choi Jaehyun, also known as the dick that cheated on you, also known as the abusive alcoholic you had dated, also known as the reason for the way you were now. one little glance towards his way made you gag, in shock and disbelief that he would dare to even show up here. the first thing he did was grab a beer, like he always did at his house after hitting you like you were the cause of all his problems.

it makes you ache, your heart especially knowing you loved his shit ass self at one point, thinking that he would change if you just covered up all the marks he would leave on you. after that relationship was over, your leader swore at you to never get back into another relationship until you got over him. you were over him, to say the least, but not over the way he made you feel. he made you feel worthless, ungrateful, unworthy, like a weakling.

“you think you deserve to be out there in the spotlight, like the bitch you are?” he spat in your face, his hands close to your face making you feel like something was coming towards you.

“baby, please just sit down and listen to me-” another smack hit your cheek, the tingling burned and made you call out in a cry, “jaehyun! please, stop and just have a drink-” you gasped out, the tears burned your eyes but slightly cooled the heat of your cheek.

“drink some more, is that what you fucking what? you want me more drunk so you can run away again?” he grabs your cheek hard, pulling it as he backed you against the cold of the refrigerator. you tried to focus on the loud humming coming from the damn thing, instead of the burning sensation of his hand pinching at the same place he just whacked you, “you’ll never be able to get away from me, not again, baby,”

the tears flowed from your cheeks, his body now facing you as your memory fades away to a new one standing infront of you currently. the look of his face, like he didn’t expect you to be at your own groups party, what a fucking idiot. before he could walk towards you, you grabbed your drink and stormed past him, ignoring the ringing affect his call of your name had to your ears. you told yourself, that where ever he was, you weren’t going to be, never, ever again.

you left the house in nothing but a thin jacket, you walked until your legs gave up on you. once you sat down, not knowing where you were or where your legs were walking you to, you looked up at the dark sky. the lights of the stars twinkling above you, giving you some comfort of the unbearable memories you had. you wished you could just deleted everything, every moment you had that with sick man. but it stays with you, like a parasite eating away at your skin.

you sniffled as you calmed down, whipped out your phone to dial someone, anyone to come get you and to be in the comfort of someone’s arms. you scrolled and scrolled, hoping to see someone’s name that warmed your heart at the sight of it. your eyes scoped around your contacts, hoping for anyone’s name to pop up.

Park Jimin. you quickly dialed his number, knowing he would pick up in a heart beat, like he always did for you.

“are you sure you’ll be okay on the couch? my bed is just as comfortable, even more at that,” he spoke as softly as you remembered, he tucked you into the couch and making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep away your puffy eyes.

“i’ll be okay out here, Jimin, i promise,” Jimin was the only other member, besides Hoseok, who knew about you and Jungkook. he allowed you to come over time to time when ever you and Jungkook would have problems, problems that were always better than what Jaehyun ever put you through. you believe that why you always went back to him, back to the comfort of his aura because he truly loved you. he loved every bit of you, but he couldn’t handle every bit of you.

Jungkook would never, you thought as you rolled over, facing the back of the couch as Jimin accepted the fact you chose the couch over his bed and went upstairs to get some sleep for himself. Jungkook had his angry issues, but he would never show abusive tendencies towards you, no matter how mad he was. he never raised a hand towards your way, he never laid a finger on you. it took you awhile to trust him, but that trust never once left even after you left him multiple times. but, to never bring up the memories that made you feel like a burden, you never once mentioned your past relationship, no matter how many times Jungkook would beg to talk about your exes.

“you should start writing in your journal again, _____” Jimin spoke over his shoulder, his hands working on making your eggs the way you loved them, “i know that helped you at times like this, even if i don’t know what actually happened for you to end up 10 minutes away from my place,”

“it’s better not to talk about it, for my sake,” he nodded in agreement, letting you know he won’t budge any information out of you since he knows the way you looked when he picked you up from the random street you sat at. you always wanted to tell him about your past, what changed you into the mess you are now and why you can’t seem to stay stable at any current time of the year. just because it happened years ago, doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you to talk about it, even if you trusted someone with your life, “you know what? that might be a good idea,” you spoke up after the minute of slience between you both.

you’ll write about everything bothering you, maybe you’ll be able to pick at the pieces broken inside of you to figure out how to handle all of your problems with Jungkook, but mainly yourself. you always need to put yourself first, your therapist would tell you, no matter how badly the other person is struggling, and you stood by that.

you never wanted to leave Jungkook, you never wanted him to feel like he wasn’t good enough for you love. you wanted him to feel like he was on the top of the world with you, to make him feel important and loved the way he should. what he doesn’t know, is that he was the reason you wanted to get better. he always told you, that you deserved everything heading towards you that was good. if the good was getting better and becoming healthy, hell yeah, you deserved that shit like it was a grammy.

so once you got back to the dorms, letting all your members and your worried leader know that you were at a good friends house after the party, you headed to your room with a fresh new notebook, ready to jot down all your feelings and thoughts that you let eat you alive everyday.

to my past, fuck you, sincerely. you deserve nothing, you don’t deserve to take over my life. i will get rid of you, i will get better, i deserve to be happy, i deserve to become a butterfly instead of moth. moths are pretty, but trust, i will be a beautiful monarch.

cheesy, you know that, but it’s true. so true that you continue to write until your hand cramps around your pen. you will get better, it just takes time, but time definitely does not heal everything.

a/n: i low-key hate writing angst, but here we are! this is a reminder that you are not alone if you’ve ever went through abuse or trauma with abuse, you will always have people out there for you and you have help too. there are hotlines on top of hotlines, please don’t be afraid to speak up about it, no matter what. i love you all, and never feel like you can’t reach out to talk to me, dm me about anything! you are all worthy and beautiful and deserve the best🩷. here are some hotlines: 1, 2, 3

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @joonsproperty @jk97bam @dna-black-and-blue

COMMENT TO BE ON TAGLIST!

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rebeliz7 · 6 months

Text

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: ““…Why didn’t you tell me this before I got into a relationship with [Character C’s name]?”

Prompt number 2 from this list.

…

“I love you.” The words are barely audible, but you know she hears them.

It’s been a hard couple of months for you, for Wanda too. It’s probably been harder on her, you’re aware of it.

“Don’t.” She says, begs of you, really.

You can almost taste the pain in the tone of her voice, but you can’t take the words back now. This is what she wanted of you, this is what she’s always wanted from you.

“Wands, I love you. I know I haven’t made this easy for either one of us, but I’m in a better place now. I promise.” And after a beat, you decide to tell her. “I’ve been going to therapy.”

She turns around, slowly and piercing hazel eyes trying to untangle the mess of you with a single look. As if all she wants to be able to do is look into your mind.

But you know what she’s always seen when she looks at you like this. You know she’s always loved you, even when you didn’t really deserve to be loved, especially by her.

“You can’t do this.” She says with a strangled voice, and tries to keep herself together.

Her eyes are glassy now, her lips pursed as she refuses to let her tears fall down her cheeks. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve seen her cry to not know she’s about to lose that battle now.

“I miss you.” You go on, your feet taking a couple of steps closer to her, your safe harbor. “I love you.”

“I don’t believe you.” She confesses, making you take a pause.

“I might be a mess, Wanda. I might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, I know I’ve hurt you without meaning to. But I’ve always, I’ve always loved you.”

There’s only silence after you’re done speaking. Silence and tears, on her part.

You don’t know what else to do. You want her in your life, you love her and you’ve always been honest. You’ve always given her all you could give.

“You don’t treat the people you love, the way you’ve treated me. It’s not right.”

“I know.” You agree, feeling guilty. “I know that, it’s just. Sometimes I can’t be who you want me to be, Wanda. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you though.”

“I just wanted you to be there. I never tried to change you.”

“I know. I know.” You frown, thinking of all the times you could tell she needed you, but you just couldn’t be there. Didn’t know how.

“I love you.” You repeat in a whisper. “All I know is that I love you.”

You can see the moment her walls break down. Her eyes lose the angry edge, and her expression begins to melt. Like an ice exposed to the sun for a little too long, you just had to wait it out.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before I got into a relationship with Nat?” She asks, just as you reach out to take her hands in yours.

“I don’t know.” You admit, squeezing her hands and letting her pull you closer and closer.

When she hugs you, you hug her back just as tightly. You hug her, even when you’re not sure if you can be what she wants you to be this time around.

…

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff

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brunchable · 12 days

Text

𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 | Stucky x f!reader.

Part Two | Four Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.8K Themes: Forbidden/Off-Limits Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Steve and Sam discuss Steve’s lingering thoughts about the mysterious woman he danced with at a party, while Bucky continues his therapy sessions with Y/N. Y/N ends her engagement with Ethan, leading to a tense confrontation with her father, Thaddeus Ross, who pressures her to maintain the arrangement for political reasons. Y/N’s growing connection with Bucky becomes more apparent, but her father's expectations weigh heavily on her, leaving her conflicted about her future. A/N: Steve's song can be One Kiss by Dua lipa lmao.

taggies: @astrelz @pattiemac1

Steve and Sam had just finished their usual morning run, both catching their breath as they walked toward a bench, sandwich in hand, their usual routine after.

Steve’s hair was still damp with sweat, and Sam wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as they found a park bench. The park bustled with early morning energy—people in suits rushing, joggers taking a break, and the steady hum of traffic in the distance.

"You know, you’re getting slower, Cap," Sam teased, flashing Steve a grin as they sat down.

Steve smirked, settling on the bench. "I thought I’d take it easy on you."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, right. Three days ago, you were out there dancing like you had moves I’d never seen before, and now you’re holding back on a run?"

Steve sighed, "You’re not gonna let that go, are you?"

"Nope. You’ve been quiet since that night. A little too quiet, if you ask me."

Steve avoided Sam’s gaze, watching the pigeons on loitering around. "It was just... a one time thing."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Just a one time thing? Come on, man, I saw you two. There was something going on out there, and it wasn’t just the music."

"I don’t even know who she is." Steve finally looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Doesn’t matter," Sam replied, shrugging as he took a big bite. "You don’t need to know her to know that something clicked. That’s why you’ve been all broody these past few days."

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking out at the city as it buzzed with life around them. The memory of her—of the girl he’d danced with—had stayed with him, playing in his mind over and over. Her smile, the way she moved, the way it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared for those few moments.

"I don’t even know her name, Sam," Steve finally admitted.

"So what?" Sam shrugged. "You’ve got instincts, right? If it felt right, you should do something about it."

Steve glanced over at him. "And do what? Ask around for the girl I danced with at a party I didn’t even want to go to?"

Sam grinned. "It worked for Cinderella."

Steve rolled his eyes, but Sam didn’t let up.

"All I’m saying is, you don’t get moments like that every day. Whatever happened on that dance floor, it’s been on your mind for three days. That means something."

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, a cyclist zoomed past them, so close that their Sam almost dropped his sandwich. Both Steve and Sam jerked back in surprise.

"Whoa!" Sam shouted after the cyclist. "Watch where you’re going!"

"This city..." Steve shook his head, laughing softly.

"You know, you could’ve used that super-soldier strength to tackle the guy." Sam pointed.

Steve gave him a deadpan look. "Yeah, that would’ve gone over real well. Captain America assaults cyclist—makes headlines."

Sam laughed, but the seriousness returned to his voice a moment later. "Look, man, I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but you deserve to live a little. If that girl gave you even a glimpse of something good... you should try to find her."

Steve stared into the distance, the thought hanging in the air. Could he really track her down? Did he even want to?

"Trust me," Sam added, "might be worth a shot."

Steve sat in silence for a moment, thinking it over. Sam’s words weighed on him, the idea of taking a chance—of finding her again—slowly growing in his mind.

Before Steve could say anything, a group of women walked past their bench. One of them glanced back, her eyes widening as she recognized him. She stopped in her tracks, tugging on her friend’s arm.

"Oh my God, aren’t you... Captain America?"

Steve sighed inwardly, but a polite smile spread across his face. "Not anymore," he said smoothly, pointing to Sam, "he is."

The women turned their wide-eyed stares to Sam, and for a moment, there was stunned silence. Sam blinked, his expression somewhere between amused and baffled.

"Oh... um..." one of the women stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Sam shot Steve a playful glare, then broke into a broad grin. "That’s right," he said, leaning back in the bench with exaggerated confidence. "I’m the new and improved model."

The women giggled, their surprise quickly turning into admiration. "Can we get a picture with both of you?" one of them asked.

Sam didn’t miss a beat. "Only if you tag me as the real Captain America."

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, let’s get this over with."

The women quickly snapped a picture, and after thanking them with enthusiasm, they moved on, still buzzing with excitement. As they walked away, Sam shot Steve a mischievous grin.

"You know, I really should start charging for these appearances," Sam said.

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled. "Maybe you should."

As Steve sat back down, Sam shook his head, laughing. "Man, even when you’re trying to lay low, you can’t avoid the spotlight."

Steve gave him a half-smile, but his mind was elsewhere. He stared out at the busy street, Sam’s words echoing in his head.

"Maybe you’re right," Steve said quietly.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"About finding her," Steve said, his voice firming up, “I mean. . . my life has been feeling a bit dull.”

Sam grinned, slapping Steve on the shoulder. "Now that’s what I like to hear."

Steve shifted on the bench, a new determination building inside him. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but Sam was right.

× × × ×

Back at the mansion, Y/N barely had time to settle in when her father stormed into the room. Thaddeus was not a man easily angered, but when he was, the entire house felt the weight of it. Today was one of those days. His presence loomed large as he stood rigid in the doorway, his eyes cold and piercing.

“I just got word that you ended your engagement,” Thaddeus’s voice was sharp, each word cutting through the air. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he took a step forward. “Without even telling me.”

Y/N’s heart raced, but she stood her ground, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “I didn’t need your permission, Dad. It was my decision.”

Thaddeus’s eyes narrowed, his face hardening. “Your decision?” His voice rose in fury as he closed the distance between them, looming over her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? This wasn’t just some personal arrangement, Y/N. This was a political move—a way to solidify alliances. And now, you’ve destroyed it.”

Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him, but she refused to let his anger rattle her. “There was no love between us, and you know it,” she snapped back, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. “I wasn’t going to marry someone just because it suited your politics.”

Thaddeus’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched. “This isn’t about love. This is about duty. This is about the family, about what we stand for! You’ve always been reckless, thinking you can make decisions like this without understanding the consequences.”

“Oh my gosh! Duty? So are we some part of the royal family?,” Y/N shot back, her voice trembling but resolute. “I couldn’t live a lie anymore.”

Thaddeus’s laugh was bitter, “You’ve never had to live the life I’ve lived, Y/N. You’ve always had everything handed to you, protected from the real world, from real responsibility. Well, guess what? Life isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you have to do. It’s about playing your part.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words sinking in, but she wouldn’t back down. She’d made her choice, and for the first time, she’d done it for herself.

“You better take it back,” Thaddeus ordered, his voice low and menacing. “Call him. Fix this. The engagement is not over.”

Y/N blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity of his demand. “Take it back?” She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You want me to go back to Ethan? To a man who’s still in love with his ex? That’s what you want?”

Thaddeus didn’t flinch. “It’s what’s necessary.”

“Necessary for you,” Y/N said, her voice rising as the frustration bubbled over. “You’re already president! What more do you need? This is my life, Dad. Not another political maneuver you can use to your advantage.”

Thaddeus’s gaze sharpened, his lips thinning into a hard line. “You don’t understand how the world works. You’re my daughter. Everything you do reflects on this family, on me. You think you can run around making decisions on a whim? That’s not how this works.”

“I won’t go back to him,” Y/N said firmly, her voice steady with defiance.

Thaddeus stepped closer, his voice low but dripping with cold authority. “You don’t have a choice. In a month’s time, I’ll be introducing you to the world. The daughter of President Thaddeus Ross. You will stand by my side and play your part, whether you like it or not. You’re not just my daughter. You are an extension of everything I’ve built.”

Y/N felt the suffocating weight of his words settling over her, like a blanket she couldn’t shake off. She had always known that being Thaddeus Ross’s daughter came with expectations, but now, more than ever, she felt like she was nothing more than a pawn in his grand political game.

“I won’t be part of your plans,” she said, her voice quieter but laced with firm defiance.

Thaddeus’s eyes bore into hers, his face hardening into a cold, unreadable mask. “You already are,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her hands trembling as the enormity of his expectations pressed down on her shoulders. The life she wanted, the freedom she craved—it all seemed further away than ever.

× × × ×

Y/N sank onto the couch, her mind racing. Ending things with Ethan had felt like the right decision, but her father’s reaction made her question everything. Could she ever escape this life? Could she ever truly be free from her father’s control?

Her gaze drifted around the room, settling on a framed photograph sitting on the mantle—one of the few pictures she had of her mother. It was old, faded at the edges, a reminder of a woman she never got the chance to know. After her parents had separated when she was just a baby, her mother had disappeared from her life completely. All Y/N had were secondhand stories and a face in a photograph.

Her father never talked about her mother, and Y/N had stopped asking questions long ago. But sometimes, like now, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life might have been like if she’d had her mother around—someone who could have balanced her father’s rigid expectations, someone who could have shown her what it meant to live freely.

But that life had never been an option. Her mother was gone, and her father was all she had. As much as she tried to carve out her own path, the weight of being Thaddeus Ross’s daughter was always there, pulling her back in.

Her thoughts drifted away from the heaviness of her family and back to her recent encounters with Bucky. There was something about him, something different from everything else in her life. He didn’t push, didn’t demand. He just... was. And that simplicity, that calmness—it was starting to mean more to her than she had anticipated.

Her thoughts shifted to Ethan when she noticed a missed call from him. She stared at her phone for a long moment. They hadn’t spoken since she called off the engagement, and part of her wanted to ignore him. She had made her choice—there was nothing more to say. But curiosity tugged at her. What could he possibly want now?

With a resigned sigh, Y/N tapped on his number and brought the phone to her ear. It rang twice before Ethan picked up, his voice cool and calculated, as always.

“Y/N.”

“Ethan,” she replied, her tone cautious. “I saw your missed call. What do you want?”

There was a brief pause before Ethan spoke again, his voice more measured than before. “I’ve been thinking about everything that happened. About the engagement.”

Y/N’s defenses went up instantly. “There’s nothing more to talk about. I ended it.”

“I know, and I’m not calling to argue that,” Ethan said, his voice calm. “I get why you did it. I’ve been thinking about what you said. Maybe you were right, but that doesn’t change what’s happening around us.”

“What are you getting at, Ethan?” Y/N pressed, her voice sharp. “Why are you calling me?”

“Look, this isn’t easy for me to explain over the phone,” Ethan replied, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “But we’re in a complicated situation right now, both of us. And it’s not just about us—it’s about our families and that event your dad wants to hold.”

Y/N sighed, already feeling exhausted by the conversation. “I know all of that. But I’m not going back to the way things were, Ethan. I’m done.”

“I’m not asking you to go back to that,” Ethan said quickly, his voice becoming more urgent. “Just... hear me out. I have a plan, a way for us to manage this without blowing everything up.”

Y/N frowned. “What kind of plan?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Ethan replied, his voice vague and careful, almost too careful. “But I’ve been thinking. There’s a way to do this... to make sure we both come out of this in one piece. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

Y/N’s stomach churned. “Trust you? Ethan, I ended things because I didn’t want to keep pretending. You want me to trust you with something you won’t even explain?”

“I know it sounds like I’m asking for a lot,” Ethan admitted, his voice softening slightly. “But trust me when I say I’m looking out for both of us here. I’m not going to let this get messy—for you or for me.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, frustrated by his vagueness. “You can’t expect me to just go along with this without knowing what you’re planning.”

Ethan sighed heavily. “I get it. I do. But right now, I can’t give you all the details. It’s just... complicated, I’m arranging plenty of things okay? And I need you to trust me on this. You don’t want to deal with the fallout if we handle this the wrong way.”

Y/N bit her lip, her mind racing. The idea of trusting Ethan after everything felt absurd, but something about the way he was speaking, the way he kept insisting, made her pause. She hated the thought of going along with anything Ethan was plotting, but part of her wondered if he was right—if handling things the wrong way could make everything worse.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Y/N asked, her voice low, testing the waters.

“For now, just... we act like we did before,” Ethan replied, sounding almost relieved that she hadn’t hung up. “Just let things settle. Your dad becoming President is a huge deal.”

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her. “I’m not going to pretend forever, Ethan.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Ethan said, his voice firm. “But this is bigger than us right now. Just... trust me. I promise you, it won’t be like this for long. I want out as much as you do.”

Y/N sat in silence, conflicted. She didn’t trust Ethan—not completely—but the idea of making things messier, of causing a scandal in the middle of her father’s presidency, made her stomach churn. She didn’t know if she had it in her to make things worse for everyone involved.

“I’ll think about it,” Y/N finally said, her voice hesitant but tired.

“Sure, think about it, but don’t dwell on it too long.”

Y/N ended the call and placed her phone down on the coffee table, staring at it for a moment. She had always thought that ending the engagement would free her, but even now, it felt like she was still trapped, still playing a role in a life she didn’t want.

Her mind drifted to Bucky, to the quiet ease of their encounters. There were no plans, no demands, no complicated webs of politics and expectations with him. He was just... Bucky. And right now, more than anything, that simplicity was what she needed.

× × × ×

Session 2

Bucky sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his body tense. The room was quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall, and the distant murmur of voices outside the door. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the notebook in Y/N’s hands. She was back in her professional attire—hair neatly pulled back, glasses perched on her nose, and her demeanor all business.

Therapist mode.

It felt strange to Bucky now. Over the past few days, he’d run into her outside the office—at the market, at the coffee shop—and each time, she had been different. Relaxed. Playful, even. It was hard to take her seriously now, after seeing her “real” character, the carefree woman who laughed easily and joked around. This version of her felt stiff, too controlled.

“So,” Y/N began, her voice calm and measured, as she glanced up from her notes, “let’s talk about the list.”

Bucky frowned. “The list?”

“Your amends list,” she clarified, looking him directly in the eye. “The one you’ve been working on.”

Bucky shifted in his seat, his eyes flicking to the window. “Right. That.”

Y/N remained unfazed, her gaze steady as she waited for him to continue. “You’ve made some progress,” she said, glancing at the file on her lap. “But there are still names on that list, aren’t there?”

Bucky hesitated, then shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, there are names.”

Y/N nodded, her expression neutral. “How does it feel, working through it?”

Bucky sighed, glancing back at her. “Honestly? It feels like a damn chore,” he muttered, not hiding his frustration. “I’m sorry, but I’m finding it hard to take this seriously.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. “Why is that?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, it’s a little tough taking therapy advice from someone who I’ve seen spill her coffee and laugh about it, or humming ‘80s pop hits while picking out apples at the grocery store.” He shrugged, the smirk widening slightly. “It’s like... therapist by day, party animal by night. Hard to keep a straight face after that.”

Y/N stared at him, her expression completely unchanged, the silence in the room growing heavier by the second.

Bucky’s smirk faltered slightly as the silence in the room dragged on. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling like he was under a spotlight.

“Tough crowd,” he muttered, letting out a short laugh.

Y/N didn’t budge. She kept her gaze on him, unblinking, before calmly responding, “It’s not about me, Sergeant. It’s about you and the work you’re doing here.”

Bucky’s smirk faltered. He hadn’t expected her to call him out so bluntly. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.”

Y/N continued, her voice steady but a little softer. “I get that it might feel strange after seeing me in a different context. But here, this is the space where we work through things. You can joke, but the process still matters.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to this version of Y/N. Outside, she had been easygoing, someone he could joke with. But here? She wasn’t giving him any leeway.

He sighed, his hands resting on his lap. “Yeah, well... it’s not just that. The whole list... It feels pointless sometimes. What’s the point of making amends when none of them will ever forgive me?”

Y/N’s expression softened, though her gaze remained steady. “It’s not about them forgiving you, Sergeant. It’s about you finding a way to forgive yourself.”

Those words hit a little too close to home, and Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Easier said than done.”

Y/N leaned back slightly, giving him some space. “Of course it is. But you’ve already started. You’ve been facing those demons. You’re not running anymore.”

Bucky met her eyes, feeling the tension in his body slowly ease.

Y/N flipped to another page in her notes. “You said you’ve crossed a few names off the list. Tell me about them.”

Bucky hesitated. He wasn’t used to opening up like this, but something about Y/N—therapist mode or not—made it a little easier to talk. “There’s this one... Yori. His son... I killed him. Not on purpose, but... it happened. I still haven’t told him the truth.”

Y/N stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue.

“I’ve been spending time with him,” Bucky went on, his voice quieter now. “He doesn’t know why I’m there, though. He just thinks we’re friends. And I—” He stopped, his throat tightening again. “I can’t bring myself to tell him. How do you do that? How do you tell someone that you’re the reason their son is dead?”

Y/N’s gaze softened, but she didn’t offer easy answers. “You don’t have to rush that conversation,” she said gently. “You’re allowed to take the time you need. But when the moment comes, you’ll know. And it’ll be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But it might also be the first real step toward healing.”

Bucky clenched his fists in his lap, the weight of her words settling over him. Healing. It felt impossible sometimes.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Y/N scribbled something in her notebook, then glanced up at him again. “You’ve done more than you realize. You’re facing these things head-on, even when they terrify you. And that... that takes courage.”

Bucky scoffed softly. “Courage, huh?”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Yes, courage. You’re here, aren’t you?”

Bucky met her eyes for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt... different. Like she understood him more than most people ever could.

“Yeah,” Bucky said quietly, glancing down at his hands. “I’m here.”

And for now, that was enough.

× × × ×

After Bucky's session, Y/N sat at her desk, absently scrolling through her emails. A new message popped up, and her heart sank when she saw the subject line: Event Details – Ross Family Introduction.

She hesitated for a moment before clicking on it, her stomach churning as she read through the formal invitation. In a month’s time, her father was planning to host a grand event where he would officially introduce her to the public—his secret family, finally revealed. It wasn’t just a casual introduction; it was a spectacle, one that would change her life forever.

The ornate wording of the invitation made her feel even more trapped. There was no escape from this. Her father expected her to be perfect, to play the role of the ideal daughter, to smile and wave and uphold the pristine image of the Ross family.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention from the email. It was a text from her father: We’ll go over everything soon. Be prepared.

Y/N stared at the message, the weight of it all hitting her again. She was being groomed for a life she didn’t want, expected to conform to an image she didn’t recognize.

She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples, her mind drifting away from the impending event. Her thoughts wandered back to earlier that day, to her session with Bucky. She had kept her cool, remained professional, but one thing from that session stood out more than the rest: the moment Bucky had called her a party animal.

The comment had caught her off guard at the time, and now, thinking back on it, something about it gnawed at her. A faint, fleeting thought crossed her mind, one she quickly dismissed—but it returned just as fast. Could Bucky have been the guy she danced with at the party?

Her heart skipped a beat at the memory of the man on the dance floor. No, she reasoned. It couldn’t be him. The guy she kissed looked different. His hair was shorter, his face was less familiar. And yet, something about the way Bucky had looked at her earlier, the way he had joked about seeing her outside of therapy, lingered in her mind.

But Bucky couldn’t be the same guy. Could he?

She sighed, shaking her head. She was overthinking it. There was no way Bucky was the mysterious man from the party. The man looked different, acted differently. And yet, the thought wouldn’t fully leave her.

Y/N glanced back at the screen, at the email detailing the event that awaited her. The weight of her father’s expectations pressed down even harder now, but her mind remained distracted, circling back to Bucky and the lingering feeling of familiarity she couldn’t quite shake.

× × × ×

It was late afternoon, and the air was warm with a gentle breeze as Y/N jogged along the park’s winding path. She loved this time of day—when the sun was low in the sky, casting everything in a golden light. It was the perfect time to clear her head, especially with everything weighing on her lately. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the event her father had planned, but out here, she could forget about it for a while.

Dressed in a sports bra and yoga pants, she moved easily along the trail, her ponytail swaying behind her as she ran. The beat of her music thumped in her ears, the rhythm of her steps in sync with the song. She was feeling good, maybe even a little confident—until she noticed two figures up ahead.

She slowed her pace slightly, squinting as she recognized them. It was Bucky and Steve, both casually walking along the path, deep in conversation. For a moment, Y/N considered veering off onto another trail, but it was too late—Bucky had already spotted her.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice called out.

Y/N slowed to a jog, then stopped a few feet in front of them, catching her breath. She pulled out her earbuds, her skin glistening slightly with sweat.

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with a teasing smile, her breath still coming in short bursts. She gave a quick nod to Steve. “Captain Rogers.”

Steve smiled, his eyes flickering briefly over her before meeting her gaze. “Just Steve, please.”

“Didn’t expect to see you out here.” Bucky seemed momentarily distracted, his gaze lingering on her a little longer than usual.

“Same. But I try to get a run in whenever I can.” Y/N grinned, leaning down for a second to catch her breath, aware of how her outfit might look.

Steve, ever the polite gentleman, stepped forward, hand reaching for a shake, “Nice to meet you. You must run a lot to be out here in this heat.”

“It’s my way of staying sane.” She flashed a smile, quickly shaking Steve’s hand.

Bucky’s gaze hadn’t left her, and she couldn’t help but notice the slight flicker of something in his expression—was it surprise? Amusement? She couldn’t quite tell, but it gave her a bit of a thrill.

“So, are you two just out for a walk?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow, subtly glancing at Bucky again. She couldn’t help but recall the lingering thought from a few days ago—could Bucky have been the guy from the party?

“Yeah,” Steve answered, a light chuckle in his voice. “Bucky’s been showing me the less crowded areas. He likes to keep things... quiet.”

“Like I said, no need to be recognized every five minutes.” Bucky scoffed.

Y/N chuckled, catching her breath fully now. “Smart.”

There was a brief silence, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little awkward standing there in front of them, especially with how intensely Bucky was watching her. She shifted slightly, not entirely sure why she felt so on edge around him, especially after the last session. The whole party animal comment still gnawed at the back of her mind.

“So... how’s the list going?” she asked, throwing the question at Bucky, more as a distraction than anything.

“Even on a jog, huh? I thought we weren’t in therapy mode right now.” Bucky smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just curious. But if it’s confidential, I’ll back off.”

Steve glanced between them, an amused smile creeping across his face. “Looks like you two know each other. . .well?”

“Yeah, we’ve crossed paths a few times.” Bucky shrugged, still watching Y/N.

“More than a few,” Y/N added playfully, though her heartbeat seemed to stay quickened.

Steve gave a nod, his curiosity piqued. “Interesting.”

“Well, I’d better get back to my run. You guys enjoy your walk.” Y/N straightened, glancing between the two of them.

Before either of them could respond, Y/N turned and jogged off, feeling their eyes on her as she went. She could almost sense Bucky’s gaze lingering a little longer than it should have. Her mind raced, that same nagging thought creeping back in: could it really have been Bucky at the party?

As she rounded a corner and left them behind, she couldn’t help but glance back, catching Bucky’s eyes one last time. No, it couldn’t be him. Could it?

× × × ×

Bucky watched as Y/N jogged away, her form disappearing around the bend of the path. She was hard to ignore—especially dressed like that, with her confidence and energy radiating off her. It was a stark contrast to the calm, composed version of her he’d seen in their sessions.

What made it worse, though, was the fact that he knew. He knew Y/N was the woman Steve had danced with, the one he kissed at the party. Steve hadn’t figured it out, hadn’t made the connection. But Bucky had. He’d recognized Y/N after seeing her many times, her face too familiar to forget. But he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know why he kept it to himself—maybe because it wasn’t his business.

His mind wandered back to what she said earlier—about the list. Even outside of the office, she seemed to care about his progress. But Bucky had to admit, something about seeing her like this, away from their usual serious conversations, made it harder for him to keep things professional in his head. Especially with her jogging off like that.

“You’re staring, Buck.”

Bucky blinked, forcing himself to look away. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. And don’t try to deny it.” Steve chuckled.

Bucky shook his head, trying to play it off. “I wasn’t... I was just—” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“You were just... admiring the view?” Steve teased, a knowing smile creeping across his face.

“Shut up, man.” Bucky shot him a glare, but it lacked the bite.

Steve’s grin widened. “I get it. She’s... hard to miss.”

Bucky exhaled, his jaw tightening. He hated how obvious he must have looked. “It’s not—She’s... she’s my therapist, kinda. It’s complicated.”

“Oh, so it is like that.” Steve raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve got a thing for your therapist?”

Bucky shot him another glare. He DID NOT have a thing for her, but ever since the first time he ran into her outside of their sessions, he’d been struggling to reconcile the two versions of Y/N—the professional therapist and the carefree woman he kept bumping into. And now, seeing her like this? It wasn’t helping.

“No, I don’t,” Bucky said, though it sounded more defensive than he intended. “She’s just... different than I thought. That’s all.”

Steve chuckled again, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Buck. But from where I’m standing, it seems like she’s gotten under your skin.”

Steve watched as Bucky’s eyes lingered on the spot where Y/N had disappeared around the bend. He could tell Bucky was trying to play it cool, but it was obvious—Y/N had thrown him off his game. Steve knew Bucky well enough to recognize when something, or someone, had shaken him.

“You know, she seems pretty cool,” Steve said casually, watching for Bucky’s reaction. “Smart, confident. You don’t see that every day.”

Bucky grunted in response, still not looking at him.

Steve smirked, deciding to push a little further. “So, how long have you known her?”

Bucky shrugged, clearly trying to downplay it. “Not long. We’ve just run into each other a few times. Nothing major.”

Steve wasn’t buying it. There was more to this than Bucky was letting on.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t mention her before because...?”

Bucky finally looked over at Steve, his face guarded. “Because there’s nothing to mention.”

Steve gave him a look, the same one he’d been giving Bucky since the ‘40s whenever Bucky tried to avoid a subject. “Right. You’re just staring after her because... nothing.”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, she’s a therapist I’m seeing for some stuff. That’s it. I didn’t bring it up because it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal. Well, she clearly left an impression on you. The way you were watching her jog away... if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were interested.”

Bucky frowned, throwing his arms in the air. “I am not interested, Steve.”

Steve smiled, leaning in a little. “You sure about that? Because it seems to me like maybe it’s a little more complicated than you’re letting on.”

Bucky shook his head.

Steve’s smile softened, and he gave Bucky a nudge. “Look, man. I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But maybe... don’t ignore whatever you’re feeling. You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to let someone in.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his jaw tightening again. Steve knew he wasn’t going to push it any further for now, but he could see it—Y/N had definitely gotten under Bucky’s skin, whether Bucky was ready to admit it or not.

As they continued their walk, Steve glanced over at Bucky, a small grin playing on his lips. He’d keep this little observation to himself for now, but he’d definitely be keeping an eye on this whole situation. Something told him this wasn’t the last time Y/N was going to cross their paths.

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thetarotwitch111 · 29 days

Text

This message was meant to find you! - Pick a card crystal

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✨This was a channeled messages from my guides.

✨I hope this reading brings you some clarity and guidance. If it resonated with you, I’d love to hear about it!

✨And if you’re looking for something more personal, I also do individual readings—just DM me anytime.

✨TIPS✨

1. Citrine

Why don’t you go out and live a little? I’m not talking about parties or commitments. I’m talking about feeling the wind in your hair, the sun on your skin, and the air through your lungs. This automatic life you’re living is making you miss the present moment and embrace an anxiety that’s not even yours.

Connect with yourself again, do things for yourself and no one else. Helping others is great, spiritual work is great, and making money too, but when you leave this earth, the only thing that remains is you. And don’t be afraid to try and fail. Just go for it and see where this leads you. Make your life worth the flashback.

playlist:

pocketfull of sunshine - natasha bendingfield

step out - josé gonzales

how far i’ll go - moana

sleep on the floor - the lumineers

heroes - david bowie

alright- supergrass

movie:

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

Specific message for a small percentage: Call your grandparents. They’re waiting for that call you promised.

—————————————

2. Ametyst

Please be calm right now. It’s not an easy phase, and some news and situations came out of the blue. But you’re going to get through this. You’re being prepared for better moments, but some changes needed to happen for you to step out of your comfort zone. Take your time to process all that, but don’t lose yourself in grief and isolation. You’ve got what it takes to overcome this situation, so ask your guides for the support you need and keep swimming! Also, the people you worry so much about need to learn how to swim by themselves too. Everything is in the right place, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

playlist:

the show must go on - queen

you got it - vedo

breathin - ariana grande

the climb - miley cyrus

who you are - jessie j

wolves and the ravens - rogue valley

movie:

Finding nemo

Specific message for a small percentage: If you’re planning on getting a pet or two, this is your sign to just do it. It will be so good for you in this process.

————————————-

3. Rose quartz

When did you convince yourself that you’re not loved, don’t matter, or don’t deserve the best?

We have the power to make things we focus and believe in reality, but this can be a trap if your thoughts are so full of self-sabotage. Stop nurturing this bs, cause people care about you, and you should care more about yourself too. Your guides are desperate for you to ask for help and put your head up. Therapy will be super beneficial right now, but with that, try to remember the kid you were, what you really liked, who you are besides people’s opinions, and ask yourself how you really want to live your life. You are reproducing toxic traits to yourself that aren’t even yours.

You deserve love, you will find your people, but first, find and love yourself.

playlist

the middle - jimmy eat world

queen - jessie j

rise up - andra day

help is round the corner - coldplay

young folks - peter bjorn and john

come and get your love - redbone

movies:

The Greatest Showman

Eat Pray Love

Specific message for a small percentage: That idea of business of yours (for some specific group a coffee or beverage business) could go well, but in a different way. Maybe you could start by creating online content to see where this goes. A bookstore is also something you should think about, but in a fresher and edgier way.

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Fixed: Jason Todd x reader

@jasontoddsthickbabe asked me for a story when Jason's girl find out she is pregnant, and once @pinksirensong found it out, supported this idea, so they left me no choice in the matter.

This can be read as part 2 of my ff Broken, since it gives the origins of the problem.

MINORS DNI!

***

Ever since he realized what was bothering her so much to push him away, Jason was doing anything he could to prove that she was the most important person for him.

Sure, it was hard, but he could never insist on having kids or parting ways with his love just because of something she had zero influence on. Obviously he supported her through the therapy and treatment which was a bitch. All those medicines and hormones made her mood swing, her weight go up and her hair fall. She hated herself. She hated what it was doing to her body and how unattractive she felt.

One night, when Jason came back from patrol, he found her in the bathroom, crying on the floor, squeezed in the corner between the toilet and the sink sobbing uncontrollably.

“Baby?” without second of hesitation he dropped down on his knees next to her, grabbing her face in his large, still gloved hands “Baby, look at me, what happened?”

“I’m hideous” she cried “I’m fat and ugly and I feel like crying all the time. Why isn’t is working Jace? It’s just so unfair, you know?” she hiccupped, looking as broken as his heart was becoming at the moment “there are so many people who don’t want kids. At all. And never care about them…..”

“Don’t I know that…” he muttered

“Oh my god! I’m sorry, Jace, I’m so sorry. I never should have brought that up. Stupid me, I’m so sorry!” she hid face in hands, unable to look him in the eyes after saying thing like that.

“Stop saying you’re sorry” he put an arm around her waist, pulling her in, so she wouldn’t lean on the cold tiles on the wall “You did not say a thing wrong. Just facts. And it is unfair. And I wish it wasn’t, cause if there’s anyone who deserves good things in life it’s you.” closing his eyes he kissed top of her head.

“You too….” She mumbled incoherently, still sobbing and shaking, just a little bit less “listen Jace, I won’t hold it against you if you want to back out….”

“We’ve been through this, babe. I already told you I only want you. ”

“I know, but I’m being a menace because of the treatment. A challenge. A torment. It’s ok if you don’t….”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He hissed and leaned in to kiss her.

To say it was fiery would be an understatement.

I mean, consider the fact he came back from patrolling, the adrenaline was still bubbling up in his veins and it seemed like putting all the energy and attention on her would be good for both Jason and his girl.

“Jason…..” she whined feeling how hard he was getting “not here…. Not like this…”

“Right.” Only now he realized he was about to fuck her on the bathroom floor next to the pot. It was definitely far from the good and romantic environment and not an efficient way to lift her mood up. Pushing her into the cold floor wouldn’t work for his benefit. So instead of laying her down, he did quite the opposite picking her up in his arms and carrying her towards the bed. “I’m gonna treat you right, Y/N.” his lips came back onto hers, slowly moving down, making her shudder in anticipation. “Fuck, you always make me want you. So bad, baby. So fucking bad….”

“Even with my gross look?”

“Shut up.” His voice became dark and that commanding tone made her pussy throb and ache for him. God, that was truly pathetic how needy and craving she was of his touch. Another side effect of all those pills. “You will shut up and do exactly what I tell you. Nod If you understand.” She nodded too overwhelmed with his body over hers. “Good. Now. You are way too overdressed for my liking, so how about we get rid of those layers?” one move of hand and her sleeping T-shit was gone “much better” he grinned, massaging those perfect, plump breast that came on full display “Mm, I love playing with your tits. All mine for the taking, aren’t they?“

“Jace….” She whined “more, please’ her back arched involuntarily, hips moving up, making it easier for him to pull down her pants. “tell me how you want me…. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“That would be first, you tease.” He scoffed remembering all those times she acted like a brat during their lovemaking.

“I’m begging you. I want you too, baby. So bad. So, so bad.” She clawed on his back, getting irritated by the thick layer of his jacket and Red Hood suit “take it off.” Even that desperate tugging on the material did nothing to remove it, since his hands were still on her body, touching every inch of her skin. “I need to feel your skin on mine. Please, Jay….”

“I never said I’ll be good, hm? You pledged that, baby. So give me a reason to listen to you now.”

“Reason?” she moaned feeling his lips kissing under her breast, avoiding the most sensitive part of them, even if her nipples needed his attention as well. It was pure torture and all she could do was hope for the sweet release after. “I’ll give you a reason, damn it!” She wrapped legs around him, still in his clothes and pressed her whole body into him, grinding lightly to create any friction, hands on his face, kissing him with all the passion she had. Which was a lot.

Oh, he was getting hard due to her action, and his groans gave him away. Knowing his impatience and look of pleasure appearing on his face she knew it was a good way to convince him “Come on, baby.” She panted into his ear, hands running through his hair. “You said it yourself, you want me. You want to get home, right? Remember how good it feels? Warm and tight and nice and …..” she moved underneath him even more and finally pushed him past the last line of self-control.

“Ah! Fuck!” he hissed letting go of her body beneath him and tossing the jacket away. “You do act like a brat.” Piece by piece his body armor followed the jacket and more and more of his skin started to show. Fuck he was so perfect.

“But you like it, don’t you…” she smirked, finally able to get hands on his chest and abs, feeling the muscles and warmth of his body. It was so good and so familiar, tracing patterns there, causing his body to flex under her touch, leaving goosebumps everywhere she caressed him.

“Not tonight. I told you. Tonight, you will listen to me. I don’t care if you like it or not.”

“Show me who’s the boss then.” She whispered and fuck, did that turn him on, pants getting uncomfortably tight “someone’s excited?”

“Still talking?” he mocked “I’ll remedy that. I’ll make a mess out of you….” and with such words he dived between her tights finding that one spot that made her moan and writhe and scream his name with panted breath. He knew her body so well it was actually embarrassing. He could have her coming in minutes.

“Jason!” she cried, tears brimming in her eyes “Jace!”

“Keep saying my name” he commanded. “Just keep on doing that. This will remind you that you’re place in under me. Never dominating.”

“I don’t…..” she cried again but before she finished the sentence he pulled back, leaving her high and dry “Jason?” Y/n looked up at his slightly annoyed face.

“Why are you testing my patience, baby?” he grabbed her chin lightly and connected their foreheads. “I’m trying to make you feel good here and you just keep resisting. Do you want to be left high and dry?”

“I got toys, you know….”

“Are. Those. As. Good. As. Me?” he punctuated each word with another short brush of his hardness on her pussy “Can you look me in the eyes and say that?”

“No. No, no. I can’t. Those could never… ah, compare.”

“Than what do you want, love, huh?’ he moved closer and harder to tease her more.

“I want you inside me. I want you to take control. I want you to take me. Now.”

“And what do we say at the end of such sentence?”

“Please….”

“That’s my good girl.” In a blink of an eye his pants were gone and with how wet she was for him he slid inside her in one fluent movement, bottoming out instantly, stretching her and filling fully. “Isn’t it good?”

“ Yes, Yes, Jason, so good.”

“It’s gonna get better.” He grabbed her legs and put them around his waist, changing the angle and going deeper inside her.

“Stop bragging and just move for fuck’s sake!”

At first he wanted to pull out and leave her. She did not listen to him, again. However, all his self-restraint and self-control started to leave him the second their bodies became one, joint, together. It was not about teasing her or being mean. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, it was just a tad harder to admit it, since he was let down by people in the past. Trust and love and being in need of someone was still something he was learning. But with her? With her, he felt safe. Safe enough to get himself lost in her.

“Fuck. I love you.” he pulled back slightly just to pull back in. And again and again. Each trust faster, harder, stronger, getting them both closer to orgasm. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. Forever.”

“Yes! Yes!” her nails dig into his back. It was so good. He was so good with pleasuring her. “You are Jason. You are mine and I….ah! So close. Don’t stop.”

“Never. Let go for me babygirl. Now. Let me feel you.”

“Jason!” she screamed loud enough so that neighbors would judge her in the morning and came hard, with literal stars exploding in front of her eyes and he followed equally hard, right after. In fact took a few minutes for them to ride those highs down and get their breathing and heartbeat back to normal.

“That was….” She started when he pulled out and hugged her close to his chest. “Wow. I don’t think we ever….So intense.”

“ You know I would give you everything, right?’ he looked straight at her. “All I’ve got. Everything.”

“If only I could say the same” she thought to herself, tighter wrapping arms around him.

***

“What the fuck happened?” he almost kicked the door to the hospital reception room. Half an hour ago he received a very disturbing call from Tim, who with shaky voice informed him, that Y/N had some sort of faint-like accident and were taken to the hospital.

“Would you calm down, Jason?”

“How the fuck do you expect me to calm down?! I got questions that someone needs to answer right now or the head will roll and blood will be spilled…..”

“He’s joking.” Tim grinned at one of nurses, who were already picking up the phone, most probably to call security “Just worried about his girl and acting emotional.” The nurse just put it down and walked away as fast as she could have not saying a single word “Calm down, you idiot or I’ll kick your ass.”

“Ha! Good luck with that. It will be the other way round if you don’t tell me where is she? How is she? Why didn’t she call me? Why…. Why did she came with you?”

“ She did not. She actually came alone, but I was listening the police frequency again and they reported someone being taken from some accident.”

“She was in an accident?! I’m gonna kill…..”

“She was not in an accident.”

“….you, Drake. I’m gonna kill you. TALK!” Jason almost grabbed Tim by the collar and almost pressed him to wall, but stopped himself at the last second, his hands itching.

“They were talking about casualties and some of the officers mentioned something about it being the hard day not only for them, but also for the girl next door who was having a meat wagon outside her house. It was happening in Y/N’s area so I just connected the dots and came here. And then I called you.”

Jason sighed deeply.

“Do you know something more? What happened? Why did it happen? Anything?”

“Not yet. Her doctor told me to wait.” To be honest Tim wasn’t surprised by his brother behavior at all. He would act exactly the same if something were to happen to Bernard. “It’s going to be alright.” He reassured Jason.

“You don’t know that.”

“I… I don’t, but she’s strong. She’s a fighter.”

“Tim. Stop. She’s fragile. She’s delicate. And she’s my one and only. I…. I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t. She would never make it easy on you and leave this way. Not to the one to get rid off this way.”

“Mr. Todd?” one of the nurses emerged from behind the door “You came with miss Y/L/N, right?”

“I did.”

“I can tell you that…..” she started but stopped in the middle of the sentence eyeing Jason who looked like he just came back from hell (which was truly not so far from reality) “and who may you be?” her tone changed into defensive.

“He’s the boyfriend!” Tim cut in, before his brother started causing drama. “He’s worried about her too. Is she alright?”

“Boyfriend, huh?” the nurse scoffed and crossed her arms “I strongly recommend you to behave and take responsibility, young man. She’s in this state because of you.”

“What…. what state?” Jason stuttered

“She can tell you herself, mister. You can go and talk to her. And I got my eyes on you.” she pointed two fingers towards her eyes and then at him, and damn that made him shake and start creating scenarios in his head. Was it that serious? He knew it was probably his fault, since he did not protect her from whatever danger got to her, but still….

“Come on, big guy, move!” Tim pushed him through the door to the padded room where Y/N was laying in the hospital bed. Pale and tired, but with the lightest smile on her face.

“Hi boys.” She greeted both of them, Tim standing back and raising his hand in greeting, Jason rushing to her side, almost ramming the doctor, grabbing her hands and scanning her face, begging for explanation with his eyes since words failed him.

“We’re good here miss Y/N?” the MD made sure it was safe to leave her with those two strangely looking men.

“Sure, doctor. I’ll be fine with them. I’m sure.”

“All right. I’ll have the prescription ready for you and remember what we talked about. A lot is about to change, dear. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you, doctor.” She smiled a bit and he left.

“Happy for you?” Jason frowned “Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re in a hospital. Since when is that a reason to be happy?”

“Y/N” Tim smiled, detective instincts kicking in “Are you…?”

“SHSH! Quiet, Tim! Let him figure this out by himself!”

“Figure what out?”

“’Jason. don’t freak out…” Y/N took his hand in hers and slowly, gently, lead it onto her belly, keeping it there. Then it dawned on him.

“Are you….” he gulped “pregnant?”

“I am….” Tears started falling from her eyes

“With my kid?” Jason stuttered, the reality slowly catching him up. Y/n was pregnant. His girl was pregnant! He was going to have a kid!

“And whose else you dumbass?!” Tim could not hold back a comment on Y/N behalf and she smiled at him in silent thanks that she didn’t have to be the one to roar Jason up.

“We’re going to have a kid. I’m going to be a dad.”

“Are you happy?” she asked quietly

“Am I….? Fuck, I’m the happiest man in the universe. And it’s all thanks to you. I’m gonna take care of everything, I promise. You won’t have to lift a finger. Do we know if it’s a boy or a girl? Is he or she all right? Healthy? Do you need any special meds to keep yourself safe and healthy during the pregnancy? What furniture do we need? Or toys? Do you think a giant teddy bear would be ok?”

“Jason” she cupped his cheek and giggled a bit “Calm down, it’s only the beginning .We can handle everything one step at time baby.”

“And I’ll be with you every step of the way. And later.” He raised her hands and kissed her knuckles “I love you, baby. You and the kid.”

“Do you want me to….” a soft voice came from behind

“GET OUT DRAKE! I’m talking to the mother of my child!”

“It’s gonna be nine long months…” Tim muttered walking out the door and rubbing his forehead knowing well enough that during that term Jason will be more annoying and abnormal than usual.

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ya9amicide · 1 year

Text

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter two

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

taglist: @frieschan || @writingwithmai || @osakis-gf || @hiefisch

Although I knew there were seven of them, it was no less shocking or intimidating now that they were standing in front of me. It was clear that they were all a different species which is shocking as most of the time, packs with both predator and prey hybrids don’t mesh well.

Some were hiding behind others. The ones in front did not look happy with the situation…understandably.

“Hello,” I say, observing how some of their ears twitched at the sound of my voice. “I was going to feed…I’m sorry I never got your name.” I turn my attention to the German Shepherd I welcomed in earlier.

“Hoseok,” he says.

I smile and he shifts on his feet. “I was going to feed Hoseok and offer a place to sleep while the storm is raging outside. He told me there were more of you so I thought I’d offer the same to you as well.”

One of the hybrids in the front watches me. He has shaggy gray ears and a tail to match. “Why?” He asks, tone flat and voice low.

“Do I…need a reason?” I ask and he narrows his eyes and I sigh. “Because you shouldn’t have to sleep outside in a storm like this. You shouldn't have to sleep outside at all to begin with.” They still just stand there. “I’m going to get some more towels so you can dry off. If you’re here when I get back, I’ll assume you accept my offer, and if not…” I take my leave then.

When I get back, I make a move closer to them with a stack of towels, and they shuffle backwards, some letting out low growls. I freeze, body tensing. Without taking my eyes off of them, I slowly place the towels on a side table by the couch. “Feel free to sit in the living room or the kitchen. Once we get some food in you I can show you to the showers and the bedrooms. You can take some of my brother’s clothes in the meantime.”

Moving into the kitchen to make more food, I don’t hear anything from the other room for a few minutes. Then there’s shuffling and I know they’re drying off. From what I can tell, they are all staying in there.

However, when I turn around to start bringing food to the kitchen table, I see the tall hybrid with the shaggy gray fur and I jump. “Motherfu–,” I slam my hand over my mouth before I finish the word. I’m sure he can hear the erratic beating of my heart.

His mouth twitches slightly. “Sorry.”

I wave him off after my heart calms down a little. “You’re fine. I just didn’t hear you coming in so I wasn’t expecting to see someone when I turned around. Would you mind bringing everyone to the table, please?” He nods and walks off.

I set all of the food out and notice that they are all standing off to the side, watching me. “...You can sit down.”

“Anywhere?” The small cat hybrid in the back says, moving to stand behind the others when my gaze turns to him.

I tilt my head slightly in confusion. “Of course, anywhere! I don’t have a preference so pick whichever spot you want.”

The predator hybrids seem to surround the prey around the table. The only spot left is by the shaggy gray one from before. It seems they want to protect the others from me should I try something.

They all wait for me to start filling my plate before they do the same. “So, I know Hoseok’s name. Can I know the rest? Also, I’m not really the best at identifying hybrids so if you’re comfortable I’d like to know what kind of hybrid you are.”

Hoseok is the first to speak up, still nervous, but clearly more comfortable with me than the rest because of our previous interaction. “German Shepherd,” he says, which makes sense as soon as he says it. His ears and tail are full of deep brown fur, both a bit wild from the conditions outside.

“Yoongi,” another one of them says, his tone and stare both cold, “Russian Blue cat.” It’s short and dirty, but it’s clear to see that his fur is a silvery gray color.

The small cat from before sits next to him, gripping his sleeve tightly. “Jimin…I’m a Calico.” His voice is timid and he avoids looking at me. His fur is a beautiful patchwork of black, orange and white.

One of the tallest ones speaks next, his tiny white ears barely visible through his hair. “I’m Seokjin,” his voice is quiet and kind. “I’m a ferret.”

“I’m Jungkook! I’m a rabbit,” one of the younger boys says. It’s then that I can hear the sound of thumping on the ground. His foot is tapping in excitement and he gives me a bright, but still nervous smile. I smile kindly at him and his eyes twinkle.

The big hybrid from before leans back in his seat next to me. “I’m a wolf,” he says and then pauses, as if waiting to see if I would run away in fear at this. I simply raise a questioning eyebrow in response and he smirks again. “My name is Namjoon.”

I finally turn my attention to the last hybrid and almost jolt when his striking feline eyes meet mine. They’re half lidded and observant. “Hello,” his voice is deep and echoes throughout the room. “My name is Taehyung, I’m a tiger.” He grins wickedly.

“I thought packs with predator and prey hybrids don’t usually work?” I ask.

“Most of us have been together since we were young,” Namjoon says. “Under the right circumstances bonds like ours can work.” His tone is suggestive when he talks about how they came together. It’s dark and angry. Clearly, the circumstances weren’t good ones.

The bunny is still bouncing his foot in anticipation under the table. “What’s your name?” He asks.

“I’m Wren,” I say, taking another bite of food.

“What do you do, Wren?” Yoongi asks in a purr. He leans forward, tone sly.

My gaze turns fond. “I’m a writer when I want to be but a professor everyday in between.” I love what I do. Most days I get to teach people about Greek mythology, something I’ve held a big interest in since I was little. And in between all of that, I get to write books about things from the deep recesses of my mind that others get to eventually enjoy.

“How did you guys end up out in the storm?” I ask. They all shift uncomfortably, those who were previously comfortable now retreated back into themselves. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Namjoon waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. It’s a reasonable question. We’ve been out on the streets for a while now. All of us have rotated to and from different owners and shelters since we were young. That’s how we met each other. We all eventually ended up on the streets and just stuck together after that.”

It was safe to say that after that, the lighthearted mood was gone.

When everyone finished eating, I guided them upstairs to the different bedrooms and bathrooms. “Here are some clothes. They should fit relatively well,” I hand them each a pile of clothes to choose from. “They’re my brothers. He used to live with me but when he moved out he left some stuff behind. There are towels and toiletries in the cabinets. You all can choose between any of the bedrooms except mine of course. So, any room besides the last one on the right is free reign. If you get hungry feel free to raid the kitchen, I just ask that you clean up any messes you make.”

I watch them all shuffle where they stand. I blow out a breath of air and awkwardly rock on my heels. “Well, if you need anything don’t be afraid to come ask. I have nothing going on tomorrow so don’t be afraid to wake me. All I ask is that you knock before you come into my room.” Knowing they won’t give me any further answers, I walk down the hall to my room. Giving them one last look over my shoulder, I quietly close the door behind me.

#𐙚 sfw !#bts #poly bts x reader #hybrid bts #poly bts #bts x oc #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #min yoongi #park jimim #jeon jungkook

477 notes · View notes

amazingmaeve · 2 years

Text

homelander fic recommendations

fics that I just love so so much 💕. go give these fics a like, a reblog, and a comment because these were AMAZING because the authors deserve!

also give these writes the love they deserve because they sure as hell deserve it!

i also have some recommendations on AO3 so here is my link to my account where you can find them. i was thinking about putting them here but it would’ve been to much work.

also what i interpret things as fluff/angst might be different to other people and it’s just an opinion based.

on tumblr.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

moon song by @richeeduvie love love and love this one. its one of my fav homelander fics!

ೃ⁀➷ angst/smut/fluff(?)

best things by @richeeduvie this author is one of the best writers for him literally all the stuff they write is AMAZING.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/dark fic(?)/kinda fluffy

baby it’s halloween & savior complex by @richeeduvie this was actually one my first reads of this persons work and ive loved it ever since.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/dark fic(?)

coalesce by @richeeduvie seriously pls go and follow this person because they’re one of the best writers writing for homelander, because i just love them.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/dark fic

milky white by @after-witch love this and the follow ups to these. beautifully written. so please show some love to it.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/dark fic/some fluff

a closed window, slightly ajar by @after-witch a follow up to the fic above and it’s just as amazing. like I just love it soooo much! so as before show it some love please.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/dark fic/some fluff

treat you better by @after-witch love, love and love this fic the writer did an amazing job and it’s one of the first ones i’ve read

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

midnight baker by @bastardfucker I just love this fic it’s so soft and fluffy and i just love reading it

ೃ⁀➷ smut/dark fic(?)

gods and good boys by @the-odd-devil I just love it. so so much amazing and brilliant writing and I think we can all agree that homelander is a partial sub

ೃ⁀➷ smut/angst/fluff/kinda dark

four letter word ii by @seeds-and-sins soulmate au fics are just something i really love to read and this is just an example because i love these.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

media couple by @darling-i-read-it love reading fake couple/dating to having feelings especially for a show like the boys.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/kinda dark

movie premiere by @darling-i-read-it love this and the author, she is amazing at writing him and im so lucky to find her work because it’s honestly some of my favs

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/angst

apologies by @darling-i-read-it I really love fics where they have to hide their relationship and something happens to it. it’s *chef’s kiss*.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/angst/smut/kinda dark

mine by @hes-the-muse so amazing, it’s so good and I don’t even have the words to express how I feel

ೃ⁀➷ angst/smut/really dark

home sweet home by @cherienymphe this one is really dark but I think it stays true to who homelander is as a character and that’s why i like it so much.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/fluff/smut

side eyes by @hes-the-muse in love with this one. the vibes, writing and everything all around it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

patience baby by @theboysfanfic love it, just filthy dirty smut and it’s just so good.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/dark fic

therapy sessions with the devil by @pretoriafics I always look for a fic where homelander basically gets obsessed with this therapist and this is exactly it!

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/kinda angsty

birthday gift by @honnelander it’s just a fluffy fanfic that makes me tingle because it’s so fluffy and i am in love with it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/kinda angsty/kinda dark

gentle by @thehoundwrites just in love with homelanders kinda a brat but that’s canon and that’s why I love it it.

ೃ⁀➷ smut

nsfw alphabet by @thehoundwrites very self explanatory and I just love nsfw alphabets and this one is no different

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/angst/smut/kinda dark

my destruction is an hour late by @venus-haze obsessed with this one and it’s also very canon to how he would react as well.

#homelander fic recs #homelander x reader #homelander smut #homelander x you #homelander #homelander headcanons #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys smut #the boys fic recs #the boys

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butterbabyflapjack · 2 years

Text

Brat

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

sexual content, sexual tension, dominant ghost, power dynamics, messy feelings, voice kink, mask kink, glove kink, dom/sub, indirect daddy kink, biting, rough sex, begging, brat breaking, voyeurism, just a dash of possessive choking, forced eye contact, oral fixation, tactical gear kink

You’ve been acting like a brat, and Ghost has had enough of it.

“You can consider this punishment. Can consider it me spoiling your bratty behavior. But you wanted my attention, and you’ve gotten it. So tell me now if you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you until it breaks, otherwise I’m taking what I want from you, and you’ll accept everything I give like the greedy fucking whore you’re pretending so hard not to be.”

He pauses, as if for your reply, though your tongue won’t move, your heart won’t beat; all of you tangled and drunken and warm; your stomach clenching almost painfully tight as you hear his hoarsened hum.

“I need an answer, love.”

“I…” you swallow, hard. Unable to deny that your panties are steadily soaking through for him, though still you somehow manage to sputter, “I’m not a whore you fucking asshole!”

You hear the smirk behind his mask. “You will be for me.”

Chapter 1

You don't know why you're doing it. It's childish. Stupid. Unprofessional. Reckless. And yet, despite all of this, your smart mouth persists.

You’re not usually so abrasive. You’re usually a fan favorite on the team. Someone your comrades like to be around, whose skill they can depend on. Like 141’s own lovable, murderous teddy bear, complete with her own fully functioning rifle. But maybe the other guys locked in this shady apartment with you – who’ve been locked up in here all week with you – are right. Maybe you do have a giant stick shoved far too deep up your ass.

For the past few days at least, you've had a fucking attitude problem. You'll admit it to yourself, even if you’ll deny it to anyone else who has the balls to mention it.

In those first few days of everyone being locked up in here, waiting on word for your mission’s next move and that eventual moment you’ll finally be allowed to leave, the rest of your team had more or less ignored your souring attitude. The snarky comebacks. The utter disrespect. The numerous started arguments and absolute cheek. The never saying ‘yes’ without first saying ‘no’ and ‘fuck you’ and whatever else a few dozen times beforehand. It’s a bunch of men locked up in here with you, and it only took a day of this before they started goading that you "must be on the rag, but would you mind chilling the fuck out, sweetheart?"

Lucky for you, it only took one bruised jaw at the edge of your irritated fist to keep that idea from spiraling, and you still don't know why Soap let that slide. He must like you a hell of a lot more than anyone who deserves being treated this way all week, because he could have easily retaliated. You may be the best sharpshooter in the room, but you're physically the smallest and weakest, and you damn well know it. But even this isn’t enough to curb your newly sharpened tongue, apparently.

Seriously, what is wrong with you? These guys aren't just your teammates, more than a few of them are your friends. People you know well, and who know you – who you’ve been through thick and thin with. So why are you treating them like their very existence annoys you?

You're overworked. That must be it. You’ve been running too many contracts, barely sleeping a single night in one corner of the world before shipping off for the next. In fact, the week this started, these past few days that you’ve been holed up with Ghost, Soap and a few others in this over-cramped Amsterdam apartment, all of you just killing time whilst waiting on word for your next move – this is the longest you’ve spent in one place in a long, long time. And something about that makes you antsy. Like you need to keep moving. Like you’re running from something. And damn, apparently you need therapy or something; someone to crawl inside your head and tear out all this pent up angst, the hurt, the annoyance, the sleepless nights plagued by every horrid thing your line of work brings. All that anxious rage, the never being able to turn off, to relax.

You need an actual full night’s sleep. That would fix everything. You think. You hope. Or maybe, as Soap so lovingly put it, you need a swift, firm kick up the–

You're startled from your thoughts as a graveled voice calls your name from the doorway of the room you’re lounging in. And when you jolt and twist toward it, eyes wide upon being caught so off guard – because since when are you, one of 141’s stealthiest, caught off guard by anything? – you see your Lieutenant standing there. Ghost. His tall, imposing outline, black shadows with a skull’s face. Leaning one dense shoulder along the frame of the open doorway as he watches you, as if he’s been here watching you for a while now.

Shit – how long have you been trapped inside your own head?

“Not gonna greet me with a friendly fuck you, then?” he wonders, eying you idly.

Your surprise eases itself into a lowered scowl. “Not a friendly one, no.”

You hear his raspy tsks of the tongue. See his head just barely shake in disapproval, his eyes still trained to you. And even though you know you’re being rude – and to Ghost, no less – it still manages to bother you. “You know I’ve saved your sorry ass more than a few times, don’t you?”

“Just like I’ve saved yours.”

“So, what then?” he asks, growlishly bemused. “I s’pose in your eyes that gives you permission to act like a sour fuckin’ tart?”

You don’t. You don’t think anything should make you act like this, but you still are, and you’re still irritated. Though he doesn’t exactly wait for your thoughts on the matter.

"Come with me," he says. No prelude.

"What for?" you wonder back, because of course you do - and even at this distance you see his lashes lower across his dark eyes.

"We need to have a little chat."

His tone, low and jagged, is amiable enough; though its undercurrent not to be trifled with.

You trifle anyway.

“Kinda busy right now,” you point out, even though you’re not, and with how you’re lazing on a moth-eaten divan with perhaps the most boring reading material known to man - an outdated British arms manual - this is more than obvious. “We can chat later.” You flip to a random page, even though you feel annoyance fizzle off of him. Even though your gut clenches at your disobeying what isn’t exactly an order from your Lieutenant, but is certainly far from a suggestion. Somehow still having the gall to feel nervous, despite your brazen cheek, to so temp the ire of so dangerous a snake.

You hear his heavy steps coming toward you, and suddenly your book’s torn from your fingers, tossed against the nearest wall, pages fluttering to the ground. And though you blink up in indignance at him, muttering out a petulant little ‘hey!’, that blunted look in his eyes otherwise silences your objections.

“We can chat now,” he says.

Though your eyes narrow, you don’t dare deny him a second time. “Fine, then. If I still had a book, I’d close it for you.”

“Well aren’t you just a doll.”

It takes a lot not to roll your eyes at his sandpaper-coarse sarcasm. “What do you want? Or did you come just to flatter me?”

“Not here.”

He turns, his tactical vest shifting across the breadth of his sturdy chest, tugging at the fabric of his olive-green shirt, its sleeves rolled to half-length to reveal densely muscled forearms. Boots, gloves, mask; he’s ready to receive word that you’re all to head out at a moment’s notice – not that that moment seems likely to happen anytime soon.

When he doesn’t hear you scrambling up to follow him, he stops at the edge of the room, boots scuffing to a halt. Glancing back over one broad shoulder, eyes darkly held within the sockets of his mask. “Not a fan of repeating myself, sweetheart.”

You frown a bit at what feels to be his condescension, though you can’t deny the little thrill you get every time he calls you sweetheart, even if he just uses it to annoy you. From anyone else it’s annoying, but from him, it speeds your heart a bit, squeezes it.

You tell yourself you hate that.

“This apartment’s tiny,” you argue, unmoving. Nerves suddenly locking you in place, though you think you succeed in masking it. But that way he's watching you… It doesn’t bode well, not with your attitude. And yet you still can't seem to help yourself. “Here’s as good a place to talk as any.”

With one hand raised to shoulder height, he knocks the empty doorframe beside him with the blunted side of his fist. “No door. I don’t think you'll want anyone listening in on us. Not for this. But if you insist on being difficult…” He glances back, down the hall toward the living room, before turning back to you. “I can make due with an audience…”

Something about the way he says it has you jumping to your feet.

“Fine,” you mutter, shuffling toward him. Ignoring his throated hum that may as well be a chuckle – and you must look as rattled as you feel, to so easily amuse him.

“Well would'ja look at that,” he gruffs, “she actually listens. When she feels like it, that is."

You want to protest that of course you listen to him – you’ve always listened to him. You may be having a tough go at it right now, but if he’s about to begin questioning your loyalty or commitment to the team, to him, you’ll punch him in the face just like you punched Soap – skull mask be damned. But you don’t punch him. You don’t even note on any of this. Because his dark eyes scanning across your face, as if silently assessing you; lingering for just a moment on your eyes, your lips…

It's enough to inspire warmth creeping up your cheeks. To make you bite down all those arguments.

Luckily, he doesn't appear to notice his unwanted effect on you; already turning away again. Because of course his little glances lead to nothing. They always lead to nothing, and you know deep down that’s a good thing, that it would undoubtedly make things messy, that any feelings you may have for him are stupid, so you try not to be disappointed by that.

"On me, then," he says, his every boot step echoing down the narrow hallway he leads you down, the commotion and conversation from the nearby living room growing more and more distant as you follow rigidly at his heel.

If he's ever noticed any of the times he's pulled a similar reaction from you throughout these past few years you’ve known each other – stealing your usual snark, tugging flustered heat up to the very tips of your ears – he's never made note of it. Not even to tease you, and you're pretty sure he would. Well… he’d either tease you, or maybe he'd just completely ignore what you fear is your highly unprofessional, inexplicable, stupid attraction to him, thus bypassing any need as your superior to address it…

Shit… maybe he has noticed…

Gritting your teeth, you silently swear to better hide any feelings you may have for him. Especially since you can barely even admit to having them to yourself. And you don’t – not really – have feelings, I mean. Because it would be unprofessional.

Being locked up with anyone for this many days can make things a little foggy – that’s it.

Though… that doesn’t exactly explain why you’ve caught yourself thinking about him, far less than appropriately, before this mission…

And it doesn’t account for why you’re sometimes, more often than you care to admit, kept awake on night’s that feel far too long by what his husky voice might sound like, warm against your skin, whispering filthy, horrible things inside your ear. Why it’s always him in your bed, if only just imagined. Teeth tugging at your earlobe, hot tongue tracing its shape. Breath growing more and more unsteady as he tells you how sweet you taste. As one calloused hand slips down, slowly down along your stomach, down between your thighs; his other hand forming a possessive shackle round your throat.

Wow. And now you’re picturing all these sinful things whilst following the unfortunate object of your ardor, your fucking superior officer for christ’s sake, to wherever he wants to take you for his ‘little chat’. Likely about your recent attitude problems, if you had to guess – which you’ll argue you don’t have, even when you know you really do. So maybe you deserve to be chewed out right now about it, but that doesn't mean you’ll take anything he has to say lying down.

Seriously, what’s come over you this week…? You undoubtedly respect this man. No one here, and especially not him, has really done anything deserving of your ire. And he wasn’t wrong – he’s saved your life. Many times. He’s your friend. Your mentor. Your superior. You’re intimidated by him, too – and why wouldn’t you be? If anyone says they aren’t intimidated by Ghost, in even the smallest of ways, they’re a bold-faced fucking liar.

He must be leading you to his office; which is a lenient term for it, seeing as how it’s just another cramped room inside this stuffy apartment that he’s set up camp in and brushed all the clutter off the desk of.

Maybe you should’ve just let him finish reprimanding you in the cramped study he found you in, but it’s a little late for that – he’s already striding into his office, leaving the door wide open for you to follow him in. Which you do, even though the room feels suddenly like a trap. Standing tall with indignant pride as you slip inside, despite also feeling like a mouse. Pausing just beyond the doorway, fingers curling and uncurling at your sides. Glancing from a few overstuffed bookcases lined against the walls, to the messy futon Ghost’s been sleeping on that’s stuffed in one corner, before your eyes slowly draw, magnetic, to him. Watching as he prowls around the desk, his desk, which he’s dragged to the center of the room; its formerly stacked boxes and useless knickknacks replaced with maps and various electronics and tactical equipment.

There’s no chair behind it. It seems he’s merely decided to stand there, behind his desk, just to make you feel smaller by staring up at him from the other side of it. His gloved fingertips lightly tracing across a few loose dossiers, attention flitting over them, before his kohl-rimmed eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Shut the door.”

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

#cod ghost #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #fanfic #fanfiction #cod modern warfare #cod mw #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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