#i get mistakes happen but misreading someone's notes??

[seungkwan-s]

i thought i would update you guys on my granny's condition. so, we found out, she was misdiagnosed. she's prone to fluid in her lungs and the nurses admitted they should have read her notes properly because they saw that and assumed it was cancer. which is honestly horrific and my step dad is angry that we all went through a lot of unnecessary stress and hurt :(

i'm honestly relieved that it's not cancer but still angry that this went on for weeks :(

she will hopefully be out of hospital in the next few weeks <3

[bi-bard]

Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Evan "Buck" Buckley - Evan "Buck" Buckley Imagine [9-1-1]

Title: Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Evan "Buck" Buckley

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley X Reader

Word Count: 1,556 words

Warning(s): mention of bad parents/past heartbreak

Author's Note: I had a chunk of this written before I decided to write this in the format that it's currently in. You can find that under 'Lover'.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

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Lover

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January This is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

Buck and I moving in together was a big move.

A move that he and I had both spent our fair share of time worrying about.

However, it seemed like every person seemed convinced that it was always a question of when and not if.

I only truly agreed when I placed the last of our stuff down on the floor of our new place. I looked over at Buck, standing in the kitchen area, surrounded by a variety of boxes and it all clicked.

This was it.

This was exactly what I wanted. What I needed.

Almost as soon as we were unpacked, there were plans for a housewarming party. I spent the whole day before making sure that everything was ready while Buck was on his shift.

And then, that morning happened.

I woke up after Buck.

He had his arm wrapped around my torso. He was almost laying on me when I woke up enough to properly look at him.

"Morning," I said, grinning at how he was already staring at me.

"Morning," he replied, leaning forward to press his lips to mine. "Ready for today?"

"Doesn't feel like it," I admitted. "It all still feels a little surreal."

He nodded as he leaned closer to me. "Tell me about it."

"I have an idea," I muttered as Buck hid his face in my neck.

"What is that," he asked.

"We cancel..."

He started chuckling immediately. I started chuckling too, but I tried to keep talking.

"Hear me out! We cancel the party and spend the day in bed," I explained. "I am prepared to make it worth your while."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Is that right?"

The tone in his voice immediately let me know that I had made a very poor choice in my wording. "I have made a mistake... I didn't mean... I meant that I was going to make those pancakes that you like."

"Oh," he mumbled. "Yeah, I completely misread that."

"I kinda figured that one out," I replied.

There was a long pause before Buck spoke up again, "We can't just cancel-"

"Why not," I whined, tilting my head back like a grumpy child.

"Because you went through all that work yesterday," he leaned to peck my lips between every few words, "with the cooking... and cleaning... and unpacking... what kind of partner... would I be... if I let you... not see the result of efforts?"

"You can't just kiss me as a distraction so you get your way," I muttered.

"Oh, it's not me getting my way," he chuckled. "I would never choose a party over spending all day in bed with you. I am saving us the consequences of us canceling last minute."

"Is there someone that would be angry?"

"There are many people who would never let me hear the end of it."

I slowly nodded. "Fine."

"Good."

"You're making the bed this morning. I earned the first shower."

"Deal," he leaned down and kissed me gently. "God, I love you."

"I love you too," I said as my fingers found their place in the hair on the back of his head.

I could imagine spending forever just like this.

long story short

Pushed from the precipice Clung to the nearest lips Long story short, it was the wrong guy Now I'm all about you

I had never been in a place as tense as my car when I pulled up to Buck's place.

Neither one of us made an effort to move or speak or anything. We both sat in silence, existing uncomfortably.

It had been that way through the whole drive.

Buck's parents had insisted on meeting me. I knew about them. I knew everything about them. Buck had told me everything in a hushed voice as we laid in bed together. I don't think I had held him as tightly as I did on the first night that he started to truly open up to me.

When they had made their "offer", which was more like a demand than anything else, I told Buck that I would take his lead. If he didn't want to meet with them, then that would be fine with me. I had no interest in forcing anything.

He decided to try. In the end, we all want our parents to accept and love us. Even when we know that they aren't capable of it.

It took me a while to finally take a deep breath and speak up, "We don't need to talk about it if you don't want to. But, I need you to know-"

"I get it," he cut me off. I furrowed my eyebrows. He looked at me. "After hearing it all from them, you're realizing that all of this was a mistake. I get it."

"That's not what I was going to say at all," I replied. "I was going to say that we don't have to talk about it, but I need you to know that I am here. I... I don't care about what those people had to say. At all. Because I trust you."

He looked away again, jaw clenched.

I reached over and turned his face back to mine. My heart broke at the sight of tears filling his eyes. "You have never given me one reason to not completely trust you. I think you're amazing, Buck. I can see who you became despite those people and whatever else has happened in your past. I see a man who is so unbelievably kind and loving and has made me feel more special than I ever thought that I deserved."

I caught one of his tears with my thumb.

I took another deep breath, "I love you, Buck. I really fucking love you and I will continue repeating it as many times as you want to hear it."

I hadn't said it out loud yet. But I thought about it every day. Every time I woke up next to him or when he texted me or when he would look at me with that smug grin on his face. I had known that I loved him long before I could force the words off of my tongue.

He reached up and grabbed my hand, moving to kiss my palm. I grinned at him.

"I love you too," he muttered.

I leaned over the center console and pressed my lips to his.

He was truly everything to me. And I had no plans to let him go. No matter what.

Begin Again

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end But on a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again

I had met Buck a few times before we ended up going to dinner together.

I wish I knew who encouraged him to ask me out. I really wanted to thank them.

I expected it to be awkward when we first sat down, but it wasn't. It was like our conversation was on autopilot. Talking with Buck was just so natural.

We laughed and told stories like we had done it a million times before.

It was a connection that I had longed for throughout so much of my life. It all felt like a Disney movie. It may not have been love at first sight, but it was close.

In the middle of our conversation, I caught Buck seeming kind of lost in thought. He was just kind of staring at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

Buck blinked a few times. "Uh, yeah, yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, sorry," he chuckled, looking down for a moment.

We continued our conversation like the moment hadn't happened. I couldn't stop thinking about it. The look alone had made me nervous. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that made me realize that this date may have been a bigger moment than I would ever fully know.

I didn't see that same look on Buck's face until much later that night. We were walking back to my car. I had started rambling about something that my parents used to do all the time.

I noticed the look when I turned to look at him as we made it to my car.

My words stopped as I felt my face warming up. "Sorry, I... I kind of started rambling there."

He blinked a few times just like he had earlier. "No, no... it's... it's fine."

"Okay," I mumbled. "Um, well, this is my car. Maybe we could do this again?"

"Yeah, I'd... I'd like that," he replied.

"Good," I replied.

There was a small pause before I leaned over and kissed Buck's cheek.

"Goodnight, Buck," I grinned before going around to get in my car.

"Goodnight," I heard him say as I stepped away.

I would have given anything to understand how important that night was going to be in the long run.

-------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[bobmckenzie]

The Kiss-Thing

word count: 1173 blurb: Richie's been avoiding Caitie since she kissed him on the cheek, and she thinks she knows why. author's note: just wanna shoutout @lovesick-rambles who wrote the amazing commission that gave me the inspo for this follow-up piece!! 💙 thank you Natalie for helping me piece together the backstory of this ship lol 😆

Caitie stood in the cereal aisle, eyes mindlessly scanning over the plethora of granola options while her thoughts were far, far away from grocery shopping. 

For the past week, all she'd been able to think about was Richie. Richie, who the last time they'd seen each other, she'd kissed on the cheek in a rare moment of boldness.

Richie, who hadn't spoken to her since.

She should've known better than to think he was interested in her. He stopped by her job to find a cologne and ate lunch with her as a friend, nothing more. She'd read too much into it, got caught up in optimism thanks to her own silly little crush on him.

She just had to convince herself to make the first move, had to step out of her comfort zone and kiss him like that. He was just so… sweet. So cute. And god, she needed to stop thinking about him. As far as signals went, this one was crystal clear: he wasn't interested. And why should he be?

With a sigh, she picked out her usual bag of maple flavored oats and dropped it in her cart. The truth was, they hardly knew each other. Hell, that was probably half the reason she’d misread the situation, thought maybe he felt the same way, that all that shy awkwardness from the first time they'd met had been an indicator of something more than just… well, Richie being shy and awkward. 

It was fine—she'd get over it, she’d be mature and they would stay friends. But she couldn't deny there was a part of her heart that'd been hopeful.

Caitie started out of the aisle, turned her cart, and wheeled right into a clanging, head on collision with someone else's cart.

"I'm so sorry!" The words escaped her automatically before she even looked up—then her eyes met the ones she hadn't been able to get off her mind. "Richie—!" She wasn't sure what to say, especially not with him staring wide-eyed at her like he'd just run into the last person he wanted to see. "Um—Hi. Sorry."

The reality was that she was half right about him avoiding her. Richie's heart sank when they locked eyes, not because he didn't want to see her—God did he want to see her—but because he wasn't ready. He'd spent the last week trying and failing to be ready.

He shook his head after a few more awkward seconds, snapping out of his daze. "No!" The word came out too loud, too enthusiastic. "No," he tried again, "My fault. Hi."

"I didn't know you shop here. I mean, I've never seen you before." Her fingers fidgeted on the handle of her cart. 

"Only every now and then—they have a certain cereal Howie likes. My brother," he added.

She nodded, giving a small smile. "I remember. You mentioned him at the movies."

"Right!" He exclaimed a little too enthusiastically again, pointing at her as he trailed off, "Good memory. I… Yeah. Forgot about that." All he could really remember from that night was trying his hardest not to embarrass himself. That and the way her perfume smelled, the brush of her hand when he passed her the popcorn, and how his heart pounded every time she got close to him. Sitting next to her for the entire movie nearly killed him.

"I'm sorry," Caitie blurted, gaze dropping from his. "For, um, what I did at the mall. Kissing you, I mean."

And there it was. The regretful words, the rejection he'd unconsciously been avoiding. He wasn't putting off seeing her just because he didn't know how to ask her out. He'd been putting it off because deep down, he knew she'd probably written off the whole thing as a mistake right after it happened.

He forced himself to shrug. "Uh… That's… You don't have to apologize." He prepared himself for the speech: she hadn't meant to lead him on, it was just a friendly kiss. All the things he'd tried to convince himself she wouldn't say.

"I didn't mean to make things weird," she continued. "I think I just got the wrong message, you know, mistaking kindness for flirting. It's my fault."

"You—Huh?" He blinked, repeating the words in his head, trying to make sense of them. She couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like she meant.

"I know, it's stupid." She ran a hand through her hair. "I guess part of it was wishful thinking that you felt the same, or—" She grimaced, shaking her head, placing her palm against her forehead. "Sorry. Making it awkward again. It's just—we have mutual friends, and I don't want things to be weird. So they won't be, is what I'm trying to say. I'm fine with just being friends. We can just forget the kiss-thing ever happened, if you're not upset."

"Upset? You think—" He had to let out a laugh, but immediately felt guilty for the obvious confusion on her face. "I was not upset by the kiss-thing. I was very much a fan of the kiss-thing." 

"You…” Her furrowed brow softened, tense shoulders relaxing. “Really?" 

"I know I kind of disappeared, I just…" He flushed at the embarrassing truth. "I’ve been wanting to ask you out, but… didn't really know how. Then I sorta psyched myself out. Thought you'd turn me down."

She shook her head, smiling softly. "I wouldn't." 

"Well, in that case…" He looked up at her with a sly, playful smirk, though his body was swaying side-to-side with restless nerves. "I know you got an invite to Gus' barbecue, so… What if we went together? As a date?"

She couldn’t hold back a grin as she nodded, cheeks flushing with color. “I’d like that.”

“Me too.” He held her gaze for a few seconds, realized he was staring, and cleared his throat as he turned to gauge the check-out lines, attempting to look nonchalant, as if this wasn’t the first time anyone had agreed to go on a date with him. “I’ve got practice with the guys in an hour, so I should get out of here. But I’ll see you Saturday?”

“I’ll be there.” She gave him one last smile before wheeling her cart past him—but when she got close he couldn’t help thinking of the last time they’d parted ways, and couldn’t resist placing a hand on her shoulder, stopping her just long enough for him to lean up and plant a quick peck on her cheek.

It all happened fast enough for him to not overthink it, until he backed up and saw her flushed face and smile of surprise. Then his head seemed to catch up with his body, and all the suave confidence he could muster evaporated into thin air.

“Um—” he squeaked out, pointing to the registers at the other end of the store with a nervous laugh. “Okay. See you. Bye.”

She watched him wheel his cart away, face warm as she bit back a laugh. Apparently, she hadn’t misread his awkwardness after all.

[skylarmoon71]

Timeless Wells (Flash) - Speedster Chapter 14

The next day, you try to work up the nerve to go seek him out and apologize. Walking into the lab that morning, your hands are literally shaking. You know that the chances of him coming back to the room are slim, especially after that reaction. So you wait it out, lunch is the perfect time to find an opportunity.

“He works in the engineering department, good luck.”

Harrison had given you a smile earlier that morning with a little encouraging push. It’s strange how such a few words make such a difference. He’s cheering you on, so you need to be strong. Before you get to your destination, you run to the bathroom. As soon as you get in there you splash water on your face.

“You can do this, you got this. You got this.”

A small pep talk later and you’re walking out the bathroom with a new resolve. You have every intention to power through. Distracted, you crash into someone. He jests back with a grunt and you note the file that slides out of his hand.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

You rush to pick it up. To your surprise it’s a case file. You look up, a bit stunned at the man before you wearing a detective badge. He offers a smile when you hand over the folder.

“Thank you, it was my fault. I should have been paying attention. From the looks of it you have a lot on your mind too.”

He holds out his hand.

“Barry Allen. Nice to meet you.”

You’re a bit hesitant to return the gesture, but if you don’t he’ll definitely think something up. The last thing you need in your life right now is another suspicious Barry Allen.

“(Y/N) Thawne.”

“Thawne, that’s an interesting name.” He releases your hand, and when he moves into your space you prepare for the worse.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a boyfriend now would you cutie?”

The smirk as well as the statement confuses you.

“Uhh…what?”

He grins, pressing his hand to the wall and you back up.

“I just think someone as beautiful as you must be committed, if not I’d like to volunteer.” He winks.

It’s clear that you misread this situation. It appears the Barry of this time is a player.

“Damn it Allen, stop hitting on my colleagues again!!”

The familiar voice knocks you out of your stupor. Your head turns, and there is Evan. He takes notice of you, and he pushes Barry away.

“Alright, I guess I should get going. Hope we meet again, beautiful.”

He sends you one last flirtatious smile, taking off down the corridor.

Evan turns to you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s been that way since high school. I thought he would grow out of it. Guess that’s too much to hope for.” You’re still a bit frazzled from the encounter. Now that you’re face to face with Evan, you feel unprepared. Barry had shaken whatever words you'd mustered up to say. Evan takes in your silence and something clicks in his eyes.

“Hey, you’re that woman from before. The way you went bolting out the door I was sure maybe I had the plague.”

It’s a joke, you know that, but being here is bringing back all those feelings of dread and uncertainty.

You say nothing, and he rubs his neck awkwardly.

“Does looking at me make you uneasy? I must remind you of someone pretty terrible. ”

You're surprised he makes the link. Then again, your facial expressions weren’t exactly subtle. You finally swallow the lump in your throat.

“He…wasn’t terrible, he just made mistakes. “

Evan nods, a little more at ease with your response. Maybe any response in general.

“Whoever it was, I’m not him. From your reaction I can tell he meant a lot to you. If it’s that hard I can do my best to stay out of your line of sight. I promise you I’m not not some supervillain.”

It’s wrong of you to judge him. You’re doing exactly what Barry did when he first saw you back on earth 1. You let out a breath.

“You shouldn’t have to make compromises to accommodate a total stranger. I’m sorry for the poor reaction before. You just look exactly like him. It took a minute to get used to it.”

“I completely understand. Trust me I do. I once saw this girl that looked like my high school girlfriend. Boy was that unpleasant. I almost scaled down an escalator to get away. She was kind of a crazy one.”

You can’t help but smile. His humor is somewhat the same. A strange comfort.

“I hid in a bathroom for two hours to avoid my crush once.” You admit. His eyes light up as he begins to laugh.

“Two whole hours are you kidding me!”

You find yourself laughing too.

“The amount of gossip I accumulated that day I could have started my own newspaper. “

Evan wheezes and you’re giggling. 

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t catch a very happy Harrison Wells, smiling down from his spot on the floor above. 

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[Note]: The calls and moments accompany Victor’s Lingering Date. It’s necessary to read the date first, or you won’t understand the context of their conversation! ♡

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for contents that are yet to be released in the global server! ⌚

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

—

✧ [MOMENTS] ✧

Victor’s Post: The scent of the shower gel is a little too sweet.

–

⊳ OPTION A:

MC: When did you change the tone of your fragrance?

Victor: ...I misread the suitcase and took your shower gel by mistake.

–

⊳ OPTION B:

MC: White peach oolong, it suits you perfectly!

Victor: It’s not like a shower gel, but rather it resembles the aroma of a certain someone’s three cups of milk tea per day.

–

⊳ OPTION C:

MC: Really? But I think it smells just right~

Victor: Is that why you’ve been rubbing yourself against me just now?

—

–

✧ [First Call] ✧

Victor: I remember the Turin time. It should still be very early in the morning.

Victor: Why would a certain someone who promised me she would go to bed early, send me a distressed text at this hour?

MC: We will discuss the issue of staying up late in a minute! Now I’ve got an urgent matter that I need CEO Victor’s help with.

Victor: [sighs helplessly]  There’s an excuse for staying up late every night. Go on, what’s the problem?

MC: Do you still remember what I told you about the Party A of this project?

Victor: I seem to have an impression, yes. You told me the last time that she is a competent and experienced working woman.

Victor: However, she may suddenly have a new inspiration and come up with impromptu demands at the last moment, and is often fussy with the staff.

MC: Yup... the part of interfacing with her finally came to an end last night.

MC: But when I was going through the data just now, I found that she had sent me a message after the meeting, inviting me to have a meal at her place at noon today.

MC: I don’t know much about what aspects one should pay attention to when they’re a guest here, and the internet has different views on everything.

MC: I’m worried that I’ll unintentionally offend her and bring the partnership to a deadlock...

Victor: There’s no need to be so scared and be on edge like this.

Victor: Since she has taken the initiative to invite you to her house, it indicates that she already has a good impression of you and approves of your performance over this period.

Victor: Turin doesn’t have those complicated customs you might be imagining. Just be as easy-mannered as you usually are at the workplace.

MC: Okay! Then I should prepare some more gifts for her while visiting, right? Does CEO Victor have any recommendations for what kind of gifts I should choose?

Victor: Wine, dessert, or just bring a bouquet of seasonal fresh flowers.

Victor: It’s the regards that count. Gifts are simply a formality.

MC: I’ll keep that in mind~ It’s a good thing that I called you. I feel much more relieved now.

Victor: So now, can a certain someone discuss with me about repeatedly breaking her promise of going to bed early?

MC: CEO Victor, you truly have a good memory... I mean, it will never happen again from the next time!

Victor: And, you won’t be given another opportunity to renege on your words either.

Victor: When you return home, I will supervise you every day. There’s no escaping from this.

—

–

✧ [Second Call] ✧

Starts at – 2:01

–

Victor: I’m surprised that a certain someone picked up the call without any delay.

Victor: Then how come one second you’re texting me, and the next second you’re suddenly disappearing?

MC: HAHA, I was watching an improvised acrobat performance on the street.

MC: I couldn’t resist squeezing into the crowd to have a look. That’s why I couldn’t get back to you for a while.

MC: Did CEO Victor specifically call because he was worried that something might have happened to me?

Victor: ...you’re thinking too much. I’ve just finished approving the documents, so just thought of making a quick phone call.

Victor: Anyway, Europe does have a prevalent culture of street performances. There are many film and TV works related to this.

Victor: If you’re interested, you can take advantage of your time in Turin and gather some materials.

MC: That’s what I thought, too~ I’ve already exchanged contact details with the acrobat.

MC: I won’t have much time for that these days, though.

MC: So, I’m planning to invite him for another interview in the afternoon after tomorrow.

Victor: I remember the last time we talked on the phone, you said that you were done with all the work in your hand.

Victor: What happened? Has there been a slip-up in the project alignment, and you have to go back and redo it?

MC: There won’t be any unexpected issues with the task I’ve already verified!

MC: I’m planning to reward myself with a break tomorrow and find a place to relax and relieve boredom~

Victor: I see... you’re getting better and better at enjoying life.

Victor: In my impression, there are indeed a number of historical buildings there that are worth seeing.

Victor: If you still have time after strolling around the city center, you can go to the nearby snow-capped mountain to enjoy the sunset.

MC: You actually know all this information like the back of your hand. As expected of CEO Victor.

MC: But this time, I want to get out of Turin and have a look around.

Victor: Where are you planning to go?

MC: MILAN! Victor, I’m coming to see you~

MC: Aren’t you really surprised!

Victor: [laughs softly, I can practically see him grinning from ear to ear LOL]  If you want to come, just come. Why are you making that a fuss about me?

Victor: But I should remind a certain someone in advance, I may not have the time to keep you company in a stroll around Milan.

MC: It doesn’t matter. I’m not really going there to travel around anyway. I’ll be perfectly contented just by being able to see you.

MC: Is there anything you’d like me to bring over? For example, local desserts or specialties?

Victor: Nothing else is needed.

Victor: I’m the same as you. As long as we can see each other, that’s enough for me.

—

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[markberries]

a l o n e  t i m e┊draco malfoy

ALONE TIME — DRACO MALFOY

info: you and the infamous draco malfoy were always at each other’s throats, so when you’re by yourself planning to prank the irritating slytherin, you take this as an opportunity to finally relieve yourself. but of course, things go a little unexpectedly.

warnings: absolute filth, smut smut smUT !! cursing

genre: SMUT, fluff at the end, enemies to lovers, gryffindor!reader word count: 2400+

a/n: ok so like... i got onto dracotok, and decided to write this. it's been awhile so i hope u enjoy!! btw this isnt edited at all (n if u know me irl, no u dont)

god — you absolutely despised draco malfoy.

he reminded you of why you asked the sorting house to not place you into slytherin; he was rude, a smartass, and an asshole.

everyone knew how much you and draco liked to bicker with each other. it's almost as if he knew what got under your skin, or maybe it was because everything he said gave you the urge to tell him to shut up. he would never stop talking about how you would ruin the school's reputation, being an international student from north america.

honestly, arguing with draco had been a regular thing. maybe a few small pranks here and there, but that was only when he had royally pissed you off (it happens quite often). although you did find draco quite attractive, it was completely overlooked by how much of an arse he was.

you sat in the dining hall with your fellow gryffindor students, harry, hermione, and ron. they were the only ones you really talked to, well in your year at least.

from across the room, you locked eyes with draco. you glared at him, then rolled your eyes, focusing your attention back to your three friends.

"seriously y/n, if you want to ace herbology, you're going to need to listen to me," hermione mutters, continuing to go over notes with you.

"sorry, it's just malfoy has been giving me dirty looks, kind of in the mood to punch him right now," you snort, then feeling hermione flick your forehead shortly after. "come on y/n, you can deal with malfoy later."

"how long have you and malfoy been going at each other?" ron asks, "it feels like it's been decades."

you laugh, "it's only been a year, alright? and it's only because he's such an ass."

"me? an ass?" you hear malfoy emitting from behind you, you could practically hear the arrogance dripping from his voice. you roll your eyes, then turn to look at him.

"listen here malfoy," you hiss, "i swear to god, if you don't fuck off, i will personally, beat the shit out of you."

malfoy laughs, looking back at his friends, than back at you. "looks like the pretty girl has a potty mouth," he says through his laughter.

"get out of here malfoy," harry told draco, and draco only replied with the roll of his eyes.

"whatever, potter. see you guys around, and watch yourself, y/n. you never know what's coming."

malfoy leaves after that, and you groan in annoyance. hermione breathes deeply, feeling the same amount of irritation as you.

"how do you put up with his shenanigans? i cannot stand malfoy," ron states, venom lacing his voice when he says malfoy's name.

"well you know," you sigh, "it just never ends. i get him back for doing something to me, and then he does something even worse after, but i don't mind."

harry looks at you with confusion in his eyes, "what do you mean you don't mind? i would definitely mind."

"well," you pause, glancing at draco who is already glaring at you, "i've been thinking. ever wanted to see draco with red hair?"

"oh my god, y/n no! we'll lose a terrible amount of points!" hermione gasps, closing her notebook to convince you that this would be a big mistake.

"it would be worth it," harry chuckles, imagining how draco would react to having gryffindor's colours among his head.

"harry!" hermione snaps.

"by the way y/n, are you coming to the common room party tonight?" ron asks, but you shake your head. "no, i don't think so. i want to prepare for malfoy's new hair do, but i'm sure you will have fun."

"but y/n! i need you there to survive," hermione begs, she's told you before that she was so excited to have another girl in her friend group, if that's what you can call it. she didn't mind being the only girl with ron and harry, but it was a nice change to have you there.

"i'm sorry hermione, next time, i promise!" you smile, winking at her and tilting your head.

"okay.. just be careful with malfoy, alright?"

—

you sat in bed, reading spells that you could do to make draco's hair red. even if there wasn't a spell, you had red hair dye ready to go.

while you were sitting there by yourself, you couldn't help but realize it had been ages since you were left alone, you were almost always surrounded by people, and that means it's been awhile since you had "relieved" yourself.

i shouldn't let an opportunity go to waste, right? you thought to yourself, fuck it.

you placed the book onto your bedside table and removed your cute little pyjama pants that had penguins on them, discarding them onto the floor and sticking a hand down your black lace underwear.

you brought your fingers to your clit, letting out a mewl. it truly felt so nice to finally be able to touch yourself again, after months of not doing anything.

you slowly trailed your fingers to your folds, collecting the building up wetness. you slid your fingers up and down, rubbing on your clit a little more as well. you slapped your free hand onto your mouth to cover up any loud noises.

you moaned to yourself, shutting your eyes as you played with your little bundle of nerves, before sliding a finger into your pussy swiftly, moaning quietly. lost in the moment, you began thinking of draco, sure he was a douche, but he had a pretty face, and that was good enough for you at the moment.

you imagined what it would feel like for his finger to pump into you like this, how it would feel like for him to call you pet names as you moaned.

you slid another finger in, whimpering even louder as you felt the unforgotten feeling of the knot being formed in your stomach. you imagined how it would feel like for draco to kiss you as he finger fucked you, how it would feel like if he curled his fingers in your pussy as you moaned his name.

"draco.." you whimpered quietly.

"oh love," someone said from the shadows.

you immediately froze, retracting your hand from your panties as you scrambled to cover yourself with your blanket. you heard footsteps, and then saw a familiar figure emerge from the darkness.

"what do we have here?" the platinum blonde boy smirked, staring at your embarrassed form on your bed. "never thought someone like you would be wanting me this badly."

"what the fuck, draco?" you whisper-shouted, holding the blanket to your chest and staring at him with furrowed brows, "you better get out of here before you regret being here in the first place."

"ah yes," draco chuckled, walking closer to you, "i would love to leave and tell everyone about how you were moaning my name as you touched yourself." you wanted nothing more than to smack that stupid, hot smirk off of draco's face.

"what the hell do you want?" you asked, quickly looking at what he was wearing. a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black dress pants.

"i was actually here to dye your hair green, you see, i saw you weren't at the party, and thought you were sleeping, but i can see it's obvious that you weren't. but now," draco explained, "y/n, the question is," he took a seat on your bed, lifting your chin to look into your eyes, "what do you want, hmm?"

his eyes trailed to your exposed neck and shoulders, "do you want me to bend you over like the bad girl you are? or do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, is that it?"

you stayed silent.

you hated the fact that you could feel yourself getting wetter as he spoke, and you hated how much you wanted him. you wanted him to do all those things, and more. you wanted him to make you say his name, you wanted to tangle your fingers in his hair as he fucked you.

"perhaps i misread the situation," draco said, rising from his position and dusting off his pants. "i better be going, crabbe and goyle may be looking for me already."

you grabbed his arm, "draco malfoy, i swear to god that if you don't fuck me, i will kill you." draco smirks at you once again, "now that's something i'd like to hear."

draco gets into your bed as you lower the blanket, exposing your top half, only being covered by your bra. he gets on top of you, kissing you with desire and hunger. you moan into his mouth as you feel him unhook your bra and grab your breast. he takes this as the perfect chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, asserting dominance with your own.

he breaks the kiss, panting to take off his own clothes and throw them onto the ground.

"you know, i always thought you were hot," malfoy says, and you scoff. he throws your bra onto the floor as well, before getting on top of you again and kissing your neck.

"i never thought that i'd get to fuck you, though."

you palm him through his boxers, and he groans, hardening quicker by the minute. he bites down softly on your neck, making you gasp. he drags his hand down to your clothed heat, rubbing you through the thin fabric.

you bite down on your lip, wrapping your arms around draco's neck. he kisses your collarbone, before tucking his hand in your panties, playing with your clit between his two fingers.

"love, i think these drenched undies of yours are gonna have to go," he says, grabbing the elastic part, pulling it back and then letting it go, slapping your skin lightly. "mind if i take them off?"

you quickly shake your head no, and he puts on that smug smile of his, before going down to crotch level, and sliding your panties down in a one, quick movement.

"god, i bet you imagined this," draco muttered, sliding a finger into your already soaking core. "all prettied up for me, saying my name.."

he slowly inserts a finger into you, pumping in and out slowly. "fuck, draco!" you moan, grabbing onto the bed sheets. it feels so much better to have him with his finger inside you, pressing light kisses to your stomach.

he inserts another finger, pumping faster this time. "how do i make you feel, hmm? how much did you want this? did you want to come with my fingers inside you?"

draco keeps his fingers inside you, thrusting them at a steady pace, but he comes up to look at your face. you screw your eyes shut, enveloping yourself in the pleasure.

"look at me, love," draco says sternly, making you lock eyes with him. he puts another finger inside you. "do you want to come like this?"

you nod furiously, intertwining your fingers in his hair. "oh god draco.. i'm gonna come.. fuck.."

suddenly, draco removes his fingers from your insides, chuckling to himself as he sees your face form into a vicious glare, almost as if you were ready to slap him. you clenched around nothing, irritated with draco for retracting his fingers as you were just about to reach your high.

"what the fuck, draco?" you yelled, he just laughed and sat up from his position.

"we're just getting to the good part, love, and you're lucky i brought condoms just in case. now be a good girl and turn around for me, yeah?"

you quickly obliged, scrambling to get on your hands and knees as draco rolls on the condom.

"tell me how much you want this," draco whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. he lines up with your entrance, only waiting for your word.

"i want this so much," you say, panting.

draco squeezes your ass, "not good enough."

"for fuck sakes draco, i want you to fuck me. i want you to mess up my insides and make me moan your name. that's what i want, malfoy."

draco doesn't help himself after that, he thrusts into you, making you yelp and grab a fistful of the bed sheets. you clench around him, making him groan out in pleasure. "do that again, fuck. it feels so good to be inside you like this."

malfoy grabs the headboard, slamming into you at a moderate speed, and you could feel your high approaching.

"you take my dick so well, y/n, i've wanted nothing more than to take you into my room and fuck you just like this," he admits. the sound of your skin slapping is the only thing that could be heard in the room, other than the party going on in the common room.

you feel a knot forming as draco hits a spot in you, making you whimper. "right.. there.. fuck!" you yell, as draco continues to hit the same spot.

"i'm gonna come," draco grunts, picking up the pace and biting his lip. "are you gonna come with me, love?"

"yes! yes! i'm gonna... fucking come!" you moan, your arms almost giving out as draco's thrusts become deeper and faster.

"come then, i wanna hear you scream my name," draco groans, slapping your ass lightly. "f-fuck! i'm-"

"draco!" you cry out in pleasure, as the knot in your stomach untangles in the most euphoric way. draco pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash. you collapse on the bed, breathing heavily with sweat glistening on every inch of your body. you feel a dip in the bed beside you, and you hear draco panting.

"well," draco says, facing you. you turn your head to see him with a confident grin on his face. "unexpected, huh?"

"yeah whatever, shut up malfoy," you reply, now turning to lay on your back, but still looking at draco. "still don't like you."

"i think different," he teased, playing with strands of your hair. "i think you like me."

you scoff, "as if! i just needed some dick."

"okay y/n, whatever you say," he grinned, "but how about i take you out to hogsmeade, and lets see if you have a change in heart."

[cacoetheswriting]

a mutually assured attachment: part two

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 2.5k summary: trust and other dangerous feelings.

warnings: set before tfatws, therapy positive, emotional hurt / comfort, mutual pinning, mild swearing, use of pet names (sweets, darlin') mentions of food and alcohol consumption, overall just a lovely little slow burn

a/n: so turns out i posted part one six freaking months ago and this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for five... seriously cannot believe i am finally getting this out, i really hope you enjoy and as always tell me what you think!

SERIES MASTERLIST

To say you turned Bucky’s life upside down from the moment you moved in across the hall would be a vast understatement.

Not only was the brunette super soldier completely blindsided by your friendliness, generosity, and wittiness, but also by how quickly he opened himself up to you (with zero effort on your part really, simply thanks to your honest and welcoming spirit).

The two of you spent virtually every free minute together.

From morning coffee together before you rushed off to work, to walks around the neighbourhood on a Saturday, and dinner “dates” every other evening. You would either cook something or Bucky would order takeout, and the word exchange would flow naturally for hours on end.

You would tell him all about your day, mainly complaining about your quote on quote shitty boss, or you’d share with him random memories from your childhood and teenage years, some of which was seriously embarrassing stuff. Bucky would openly counter with anecdotes from his own life pre the war, and even though you’d complain none of his stories were as shaming as yours, it felt good to just get to know him a little.

An unspoken agreement quickly formed: anything else from his long life was not to be mentioned.

Lost in conversation and with mouths full of food, the two of you would divert to the couch. And usually at this point in the evening you’d convince Bucky to watch something with you.

That’s when you introduced him to Shelly, Bobby and Laura — amongst others — and he came to learn they weren’t your friends (as he initially thought). ‘Twin Peaks’ was confusing, and although you guaranteed a lot of people thought so, Bucky still felt bad for not liking something you so clearly enjoyed.

Hence why the following evening he gifted you with a small notebook in your favourite colour; “It’s so you can note everything you think we should watch together.” Your heart swelled. And when he saw the beam spreading across your features, so did his.

One Sunday afternoon, you taught him your famous apple pie recipe.

At least you tried your best.

Bucky may be a trained killer but even professionals with an enhanced attention to detail make mistakes. He misread the labels and instead of 2/3 cups of sugar, he added salt. (And it definitely had nothing to do with how he got distracted by the smudge of flour on the tip of your nose, and how adorable it made you look). By the time he realised his error, the pie was already in the oven.

You of course reassured him it was okay.

“It happens to the best of us, Buck. My mom once put salt in my tea and I only realised after I took a sip,” you tittered with a light shrug of the shoulder and a sweet smile.

Bucky returned the expression. He watched you move about your kitchen, cleaning the mess you both made, and found himself hoping the feeling forming at the pit of his stomach when he looked at you would never go away.

It was silly to feel this strongly about you. After all, he still didn’t know your name.

Yes, Bucky could admit it was odd spending this much time with someone and not knowing such an intimate detail of who they really were. But with you it didn’t feel so weird. He firmly stood by what he told you around the time he first met you: “You can tell me your name when you’re ready to do so.”.

Not like it mattered anyway, it was just a name. He’s been called by many over the years, some considerably better than others, and in the end it was a nickname he liked most.

He obviously wondered every night what it was. Oddly enough the guessing game helped him fall asleep by keeping his mind occupied and warding away any nightmares, because all he thought of as his eyes shut was you.

But Bucky wouldn’t have to ponder much longer.

You had a tough day — tough week actually — and he wanted to distract you somehow. Cheer you up in a memorable way. And having previously expressed interest in his mode of transport, Bucky knew taking you out on a trip on his motorcycle would be a great way to help you momentarily forget any troubles.

He bought you a helmet. You squealed with excitement as he gently placed it on your head. The enthusiasm so clearly visible on your features caused him to smile while  his fingers brushing your chin as he secured the strap.

But when he stepped away to hop on the motorcycle, the happy expression on your face faded. Nerves kicked in.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, settling himself down on the seat.

“I don’t know about this, neighbour.”

He chuckled, “Aren’t you the one who’s been goin’ on about how you’d like to go on a motorcycle ride with me?”

“Well… yeah.” A sigh escaped your lips, “But now that I have this helmet on my head and you’re sitting, waiting for me to get on I just...”

The grin plastered on Bucky’s face caused you to bite the inside of your cheek, in an attempt to stop yourself from rambling on further.

“Come on,” he said and extended an arm in your direction, “I promise you’re safe with me, darlin’.”

With a slow nod of the head, you took his hand and maneuvered yourself onto the motorbike.

Bucky waited until you were settled before dropping your hand. And although you instantly wrapped your arms securely around his waist, he still found himself missing the feeling of your soft skin against his.

“Ready?” Bucky asked.

And it was then he finally learned your name. He didn’t think he heard you at first when it escaped your lips ever so faintly.

“y/n…” you mumbled into his ear in response to his question, “uhm- my name is y/n y/l/n.”

He looked back at you, almost in disbelief. He couldn’t really believe you told him. And here — now — of all places. And holy hell… y/n, even more beautiful than what he imagined.

“y/n,” Bucky tested the name on his tongue before the corners of his lips twirled upwards, “It sure suits you, darlin’.”

You repricoated the expression, “You think so?”

He nodded before his brows creased together, confused. “But I gotta know somethin’—”

“Well, I figured since we might die on this bike today, you might as well know who you’re dying with,” you replied, knowing exactly what he was going to ask.

Bucky smacked his lips together, containing a smile.

“We are not going to die,” he stated confidently before turning his attention to the road ahead and starting the machine.

You wanted to protest, tease him a little with a witty comment, but instead you only held onto him tighter, carefully resting your chin on his shoulder.

~~~

“She told me her name.”

Dr. Raynor raised a brow, “You don’t seem pleased? I thought you wanted to know what it was.”

He did, more than anything. He was delighted when you finally revealed what it was, replaying it in his mind that whole afternoon. However when he returned home that evening, after saying goodnight to you and watching you disappear into your apartment, an uneasy feeling rushed through him.

“It’s complicated.”

“How so?

“Because it means she trusts me.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Yes.

Bucky sighed, “Nothin’ good ever comes from people trusting me, doc.”

“I see…” Dr. Raynor scribbled something on the notepad in her lap and after a minute of silence focused again on the brunette man sitting across from her, “Would you like to know what I think?”

He didn’t say anything. Dr. Raynor exhaled.

“I think your neighbour telling you her name freaked you out not because she’s grown comfortable enough around you to share this part of herself with you, but because in the weeks you have spent hanging out together you also began to trust her. And that is what scares you.”

Dr. Raynor was right of course and Bucky hated it when she was right.

Yes, he’s grown to trust you. Honestly, it was almost impossible not to. Everything about you was so welcoming and honest, trusting you only felt natural.

“Do you think she is the type to break your trust?” Dr. Raynor enquired.

“No,” he responded instantly and without hesitation, causing the lady sitting across from him to smile before saying, “Then it’s important you don’t let your past hurt dictate your present relationships.”

“But how can I not, doc?” Bucky asked, because it honestly seemed like an impossible task.

~~~

Sucking in a sharp breath, Bucky entered the nearby bar you two decided to meet at for a change. He scanned the crowded room, quickly spotting you in the far corner, lost in your own thoughts. The second you noticed his approach, you waved and a wide grin graced your features.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted him, “I was starting to think you forgot all about me.”

The brunette sergeant smiled while sitting down across from you. He hailed a server down and ordered two beers before turning his attention to you, “Sorry, I got held up at the, uhm—”

“You’re here now,” you cut in, noticing the apprehensive look on his face. Bucky bobbed his head in response.

A waiter rocked up to the table with the ordered beers. They asked if you needed anything else, to which Bucky shook his head and thanked them before once again focusing on you.

“How was your day?”

“It’s Friday, that always makes things better,” you answered, taking a sip of the liquid.

“If you hate your job so much, why don’t you resign?” Bucky queried, instantly picking up on the undertone in your reply.

“Trust me neighbour, I think about quitting every damn day but my bills won’t pay themselves and the job market sucks ass right now. It would be months before I found something else and I just can’t afford that kind of time,” you elaborated.

“Plus, even if I were to leave, I wouldn’t even know what else I could do,” you added and took another sip.

“A smart lady like you, I’m sure there’s somethin’,” Bucky encouraged, “What was your dream job when you were little?”

You chuckled. “I think my chances of doing that are quite slim, neighbour.”

Bucky raised an intrigued brow and inclined forward, arms resting on the table. He motioned for you to continue and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“If we ever have a falling out, I hope you never repeat my embarrassing stories to anyone.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Bucky tittered and you shot him an annoyed glance before taking another sip of the liquid courage.

“I wanted to be an astronaut,” you finally admitted, covering your eyes with your hand, not wanting to witness Bucky’s reaction to your silly childhood dream.

Bucky pressed his tongue to his top lip, fighting back a smirk. An image of little you in a make-shit helmet flashed before his eyes. He could technically make a part of your dream come true, but that would involve talking to people he no longer wanted anything to do with.

He reached to move your hand away from your face and for a split second the two of you sat in silence, his fingers gently caressing yours.

The tender moment was interrupted by the server returning to ask whether you wanted another round.

You hastily withdrew your hands from Bucky’s grasp, placing them on your lap, while the brunette man ran his fingers through his hair before turning to decline the waiter. The whole ordeal lasted about a minute and once you were alone again, Bucky swallowed his breath and proceeded to veer the conversation away from the awkwardness that was suddenly closing in around you.

“An astronaut, huh?”

The chaffing tone detectable in his voice caused you to roll your eyes yet again before replying, “You can’t honestly tell me you grew up wanting to join the army.”

“I did.”

“Bullshit,” you exclaimed, “I call bullshit.”

He laughed, “Fine, but you gotta promise not to tell a living soul. The only other person that knows this about me is Steve.”

“Cross my heart,” you gesticulated.

“I wanted to be a cowboy.”

You pressed your fingers to your lips, hiding — or rather failing to hide — a satisfied smile.

He returned the expression and a warm fuzzy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

“All I’m going to say is, you should be very glad we’re going to be in each other's lives for the foreseeable future, because that is some pretty heavy ammunition you just gave me,” you teased him.

Bucky smirked. “Glad to hear I haven’t scared you off yet, darlin’.”

You shrugged lightly. “I guess I am strangely attached to you, Bucky Barnes,” you expressed.

The brunette man stiffened, all of the anxieties he’s been pushing down this evening were suddenly floating back up. His metal hand gripped the empty beer bottle a little too tight and a lump grew at the back of his throat as your words rang in his ears.

Okay, he may feel the same. And okay, he was attached to you too, he has been for some time now (in more ways than one). A mutual attachment however... Well, a mutual attachment is precisely why he didn’t want to get involved with you in the first place.

“I scared you a little, didn’t I? I freaked you out with the whole attached thing, right?”

Shifting into damage control mode, you inched forward and without waiting for a response, you continued: “I am so sorry, James. It uh, it's just an expression, p-please don’t read too much into it.”

The compassionate look on your face caused his heart to skip a beat. Although there was something else you just did that had an even greater effect on him.

“You called me James.”

Your brows creased together as you asked, “What?”

“You called me James,” he repeated and added, “you never call me by my first name.”

“Yes I do,” you protested, scrunching your nose.

“Nope,” Bucky countered with an assertive smirk, “It’s always either neighbour or old man. Sometimes Bucky or Buck, but never James.”

“Really?” you questioned in disbelief, “Never?”

He shook his head, “Never.”

You didn’t know what to say. It shouldn’t be this big a deal. James was his name afterall, so how come you’ve never used it? He hardly called you by yours, however with good reason since he only found out what it was the other day. Fuck. Why did this make you feel all sorts of flustered?

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked back at him. The second his blue gaze caught yours, your breathing became softer.

“Don’t worry, y/n.” he began and the brazen smirk on his face slowly faded into a more tender expression, “I eh, I am strangely attached to you too.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

The longer you looked into his eyes the more your body squirmed, your muscles relaxing and further sinking you into the chair. There was something about that soft gaze of his you knew you’d never find in anyone else.

‘Attached’ was becoming a severe understatement.

“Good, because like I said, we’re going to be a part of each other’s lives for a long time, James.”

main masterlist

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Reason to Come Back (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Reason to come back

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 3574

Request: "can you do something where seb(or one of his characters)and reader used to date and one day he broke up with her and after a short time he comes up with a new girl(not cheating)and the reader thinks that she’s worthless and not beautiful or good enough and that’s why he broke up with her and tries to be better(you know what to do•_-) and silently suffering etc. and with a happy ending where they get back together"

Warnings: mentions of a breakup, angst, depression, very slight mentions of disordered eating and exercise (very slight, not like most of my other fics), general feelings of worthlessness, angst

Tags: @buckys2thicc @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @barnesplums @thatfangirl42 @buckfics @babyboibucky 

A/N: I AM SO SORRY TO THE ANON THAT REQUESTED THIS SO LONG AGO AND THAT IT TOOK SO LONG! I don’t even know if they’re still here, I feel so bad. I got an anon request for this fic and I did not know about the inbox for Tumblr accounts until just recently because I’m incompetent. There’s no excuse for me taking so long to write it, but I wanted to even though it’s been 9 months since they sent it. If you’re still here anon, thank you for sticking with me!

NEW NOTE 06/04/21: I rewrote this to be for Bucky as opposed to Sebastian. It is still mostly the same, just reworded in some places. This is meant to take place in reference to the timeline of tfatws and mentions moments from the show. I am referencing “the time he was gone” as the series episode 1-6. I don’t know how much time passed but I assume it was at least a few weeks if not longer (especially between episodes 5 and 6). That’s how I wrote it.

------------------------

It was a quiet night, you under some blankets on the couch watching a movie. There was an empty bowl aside from a few popcorn kernels on the coffee table in front of you, the movie more for background noise than entertainment. You were scrolling through your phone mindlessly, looking for a distraction that would keep you occupied.

Not that it was working too well. There wasn’t much that could distract you from the fact that you were alone.

9 months. You had dated for 9 months. Not that he had been around for much of it. He had been with Sam on an extended mission, and he had been gone for a few weeks. You didn’t know much about the mission, Bucky wasn’t allowed to tell you. For your safety. You understood. It was his job, you knew that, but it could be lonely most of the time. He would call or text you if he could, but he couldn’t compromise his location. You were always happy to hear from him, but it wasn’t the same as when he was around.

You knew this would happen, and you had accepted that. It was hard, but you could manage.

You hadn’t heard from him in a weeks, but you didn’t think much of it. He and Sam must have gotten closer to the answers they had been looking for. You could only hope that he was safe. it took a toll on you, worrying about him, but you had been so happy when he had said he was coming home. But when he walked through the door, he didn’t seem excited at all.

You had wrapped your arms around him, and he had hesitantly hugged you back gently. You had known something was wrong almost immediately, pulling back and trying to meet his eyes. “Babe? Are you okay?”

“We should talk,” he said, struggling to meet your eyes.

You pulled your eyes together with concern. “Yeah, yeah what’s wrong?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if this is gonna work out.”

You shook your head, surprised. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“I just don’t think you and I work with 1,000 miles between us.”

“What?” you said in disbelief. “You’re the one who has to leave and I told you that I’m okay with it, and I am. I never thought you’d be the one with the problem with it.”

“Y/n -”

“We can work this out, Buck. You said it yourself, you don’t normally go away for that long. I’m not going anywhere, I - ”

“I can’t ask you to stay, y/n,” he said, cutting you off. You shut your mouth and shook your head. “Where is this coming from, what happened?” you asked.

He cleared his throat. “I should go.”

“You don’t get to walk away from this like that!” you exclaimed, nearly yelling.

“And I don’t have the right to expect you to wait for months while I’m out trying to save people. I thought it’d be fine but I couldn’t stop thinking about you here, alone. There’s going to be more missions, more danger. They recreated the serum. Who knows what else they’ll be able to create? You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“You don’t get to make that choice for me! I told you I’m okay with it and I still am, Bucky! I know the risks!” you said, tears pricking your eyes.

He looked away. “You deserve much better than me. Someone who can be there for you.”

You walked up to him and cupped his face. “You’re all I could ever want Bucky. Distance be damned.”

He sighed and pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tightly for a moment. “I have to go y/n. I’m sorry.”

He let you go and turned around, not even looking back to say goodbye.

That had been a couple of weeks ago. You had been crushed at first, devastated. But you were still able to function in your day-to-day life. You had a few friends to hype you up or cry with you, whatever the day was. You were able to still get to work, try to move on. And it was getting better, but the nights were still hard. It wasn’t the same when you knew he wouldn’t be coming home.

During the day you could pretend like you were waiting for that night when he would be able to call you. But at night, it was dark and you didn’t have a person you wanted to call.

You weren’t bitter, in a way you understood. You had known how relationships could be ruined by distance and work. But being a super soldier wasn’t a typical line of work. You had been okay with it, but you hadn’t thought that it would’ve affected Bucky as much as it seemed to. You had been emotional at the time, but looking back on it you could understand where he was coming from. Relationships were two-sided - just because you felt okay didn’t guarantee he was.

You knew what he did was dangerous. You had accepted that there might not have always been a happy ending. Maybe he hadn’t.

But then one day you had walked into a bar, only to see Bucky flirting with another girl, laughing away..

That was all you needed to see.

You didn’t want to read too much into it, any kind of situation could be misread. But him laughing with a very attractive girl over drinks shortly after becoming single - you couldn’t help but wonder.

You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter, that you were reading everything wrong, but your heart still felt as though it was breaking.

She was gorgeous. Much more so than you, you had thought.

Was that why he left? Was he just wanting to get himself back out there? Had he met her and just needed to get rid of you?

You didn’t want to think that way, none of it was true. He wouldn’t do that, he was a good man. But still…

Maybe if you were different it would’ve been harder for him to leave.

Maybe you hadn’t given him a good enough reason to stay.

And maybe, if you were better, prettier, he would come back.

It started small - making more of an effort to go to the gym, not ordering takeaways every night, that sort of thing. Not that you had much of an appetite to begin with. But you didn’t realize when your days had become full of going from work to the gym, nor why you had freaked out so much when you had sprained an ankle and couldn’t do your normal workout.

You had decided to work your arms those next few days to supplement the cardio you had missed. You had kept this up until you woke up one morning struggling to turn over because you were so sore. You decided that that day, you could take a rest day.

A rest day turned into a rest week, and soon enough you were only leaving your house to go to work. And only because you needed money.

You had cut yourself off from most of your contacts, still replying every now and then so they wouldn’t be concerned. You didn’t go out with them or call them because you were worried they would see right through you. Better to stay home. Your bed would never judge you.

You had become familiar with the spots on the wall, the streaks from god knows what, the way that light would filter through your window as the sun ascended and descended the sky. Hours could pass and you could still be in the same position.

You had to keep up a front around everyone. Letting people know how much you were hurting was not an option for you. Then they would ask what was wrong and pull you aside and look at you with this concerned face that you couldn’t deal with. It was the one that everyone always gave when someone was having a bad day, the one people put on when they wanted you to think that they cared. Sometimes they did, but most of the time a person with any sense of morals would put that face on to make a person think that they cared. It’s the same way “How are you?” is more of a greeting than a genuine question.

There were people who cared, but you didn’t want to have that conversation. You didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. It was an honest thought of bettering yourself, but it was for the wrong reasons. Trying to be better for Bucky made you realize how much you missed him. How angry you really were at him. But you couldn’t take it out on him, he didn’t deserve that at all, he didn’t earn that. But you were angry at...something, and maybe it was yourself, at letting him walk out that door, of not calling him and leaving him messages. Maybe if you had fought for him he would’ve stayed. If you had said something when he distanced himself.

You felt like this was your fault. And maybe if you changed something about yourself, you would learn from your mistakes.

Not that you knew exactly what you had done or what isolating yourself would fix, or teach you for that matter.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep because your ringtone jolted you awake. You groaned, shutting your eyes again. You would let it go to voicemail, just like all of the others. If it was that important they would text you.

You let it ring, sighing when it had stopped. You readjusted in your bed, trying to fall back asleep. It was a Saturday morning, you had until Monday morning to sleep. You were going to make the most of it.

But then your phone began ringing again.

You opened your eyes again, picking up your phone to see who it was. You dropped the phone when you saw the name

Bucky Barnes

Why the fuck was he calling you? What could he possibly have to say to you?

You watched the phone ring through to voicemail, soon after seeing a voicemail was left. You didn’t bother listening to it, you didn’t need to. You simply rolled over in bed. If it were that important, he would have called sooner.

Bucky’s POV

As the call went to voicemail again, Bucky was confused. He had never known you to miss a call, ever. It wasn’t like you, he knew you would drop anything to take calls. You had said you hated people leaving voicemails because you hated them having to listen to your voicemail message. You had thought your voice had sounded weird. It was one of the little things he remembered about you that made him smile

And realize how royally he had fucked up.

Being away on a mission wasn’t anything new for him, but maintaining a serious relationship for him was. He had never met anyone like you, and he had missed you so much when he had left. He hadn’t felt anything like what he did when you smiled at him since the 40′s. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but all he could think about was how much he had missed you. And that made him think about how much you must have missed him.

He felt like he was holding you back in some way. He was used to being away in dangerous situations for periods of time but you weren’t. And no matter how much you had assured him that you were okay with the long-distance relationship, as the months went on he felt guilty for not being able to be there in the way that he wanted to.

In the way you deserved.

He broke up with you because he thought you deserved better than relying on phone calls and texts for months at a time. Someone who could be there all the time for you. Someone who you didn’t have to worry about getting shot when he left for a mission. Someone predictable and reliable. Something he couldn’t always do.

But God, did he miss you.

He regretted walking out that door. He regretted not giving you a better reason, for not calling you or texting you until now, weeks later. The more time went on, the more he felt it would be inappropriate to call you to apologize.

But he couldn’t take it anymore, so he dialed your number. And when it went to voicemail, he had gotten a little worried.

He knew he didn’t have much of a right or reason to be worried, but he had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right. So, he decided to reach out to one of your friends.

Hey, is y/n alright?

Why do you want to know?

Look, I know I messed up. I just wanted to apologize and give her the answer she deserves. But she’s not answering my calls.

She doesn’t do phone calls anymore.

What do you mean?

She won’t answer calls. She won’t even come out with us anymore. Something’s up but she denies it.

When did this start?

When do you think?

Bucky’s heart sank to his stomach. This was his fault. And he had to go make it right.

Your POV

You were still in bed, wondering why Bucky had called you. It didn’t make sense to you, for him to call after all of this time. What could he possibly have to say to you? Did he want to inform you of a new girlfriend before the news caught wind of it? Did he want to come up with some dumb excuse to tell you he was sorry?

It made you scoff slightly, but the tug at your heart let you know that it wouldn’t be unwelcome.

You couldn’t deny it. As much as his leaving had hurt you, you missed him more than anything.

You wanted another chance with him, one that you weren’t sure you would get. And the thought of him coming back to you was comforting. Like maybe it wasn’t your fault. Or maybe you had done enough to win him back.

Wishful thinking.

You had lost track of time, once again, but were snapped out of your daze by knocking on your door.

What? Why would anyone be here?

You sighed. It was probably just some random person selling some random product or something.

More knocking. More insistent. You sighed, standing up and silently groaning at the soreness you felt in your body. Not necessarily from overuse, but more so from underuse. You stood you slowly, walking quietly over to your door.

More knocking.

You made it to the door and glanced through the peephole you had, eyes widening and a small gasp leaving your mouth.

Why the fuck was Bucky here?

More knocking.

You ran a hand down your face. Knowing him, he wouldn’t leave. But why did it go from calling straight to ‘I’m coming to your door’? As if he hadn’t been the one to leave you?

More knocking.

You swallowed dryly. “Why are you here?” you called out through the door.

Bucky let out a breath. “I just want to talk to you”

You shook your head on the other side of the door, wondering if you should let him speak. As if he wasn’t already living rent-free in your mind.

“Please y/n.”

You set your face hard, pulling the door open. At least you would get to say your piece to him.

“Now you wanna talk? Fine. Let’s talk.” you said, coldly.

Bucky was slightly taken aback, though he couldn’t blame you. He took in your appearance, exhaustion seeming to overtake you. Dark circles under your eyes, pale skin, you just - all life seemed to be drained from you. He scratched the back of his neck nervously before he asked quietly, “Can I come in?”

You stepped to the side, silently allowing him in, closing the door behind you. You crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged slightly. “What do you want Barnes?

“I’m sorry,” he said. You scoffed slightly, shaking your head and looking away. “Y/n look at me, please. I fucked up.”

“Well it took you long enough to figure that one out didn’t it?” you snapped, looking at him.

“Y/n please -”

“Tell me, when exactly did you figure out that maybe, just maybe, you should say you were sorry?”

“Y/n please - “

“Who was the girl? The one in the bar from a few days after we had broken up? The one you were hitting on over a couple of drinks?”

“The… what?”

“When did you feel the slightest bit of regret? When did you change your mind and decide that you didn’t want to leave?”

“I never wanted to leave you!” he exclaimed. “Can you please just listen to me?”

You looked at him, anger in your eyes but you closed your mouth. You gave him a look that said ‘I’m listening.’

He took a deep breath. “The woman at the bar was an old friend of Sam’s. He had introduced the two of us at one point. I was at a bar one night and and she came over to say hello and stayed for one drink. It’s nothing more than that.”

You took a breath. Situations could definitely be read wrong. You knew it had probably been nothing.

“When we first got together we had talked about me leaving for missions. Long-distance, unpredictable times, dangerous missions. A lot of people have a hard time keeping that going.”

“And I knew that and was okay with it.”

“Let me finish, please.” he pleaded. “I knew you knew the risks but I’m not sure I was as ready as I thought I was. I left and suddenly I couldn’t talk to you because I was worried for your safety. I couldn’t be there for you in all the ways I wanted to be. In all the ways you deserved. I just...you didn’t deserve that. You deserved so much more than that.”

You felt tears prick your eyes. “You already told me that. When you left. What’s really going on?”

He shook his head slightly. “ Sam’s sister had gotten a call with a threat towards her and her children. I couldn’t put you at risk. These people, they were super soldiers just like me. I had a few close calls with serious injuries. And I realized that if I got hurt I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t let you get hurt and I couldn’t let you worry about whether or not I would come home alive. I thought… I thought it’d be less painful for both of us if we stopped seeing each other before that happened.”

You shook your head slightly. “Why couldn’t you tell me that?” you said, a little more softly.

“I don’t know”

You shook your head. “You’re gonna have to do a lot better than I don’t know.”

“I - “ He sighed slightly. “I was scared. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was scared that I was going to lose you.”

“So you gave me up?” you asked.

“And made the biggest mistake of my entire life.”

You looked to the side and bit your lip slightly. “You know I thought it was my fault?” you turned your face back to Bucky’s confused one. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. That if I was enough you wouldn’t have left. Or if I was better you would’ve come back.”

He shook his head and started walking towards you to comfort you. “It was never your fault angel -”

You backed up slightly. “You don’t get to call me that. Not right now, not yet at least.”

He looked hurt slightly, but he nodded. After a few moments of silence, you scoffed slightly.

“You know, as much as I hate to admit it, I fell apart these past few weeks. Told myself that the only thing I wanted and needed was having you come back. And here you are and...I don’t know, Bucky.” you shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or think, you broke up with me because you were afraid of hurting me? I - “ you rubbed your eyes. “I just… I get it, but I just wish we could’ve had this conversation weeks ago, Buck.”

“Does this mean we’re done?” he asked timidly.

“I… I don’t know. I just…. I think i need a little bit of time. Please. Just some time to think.”

He nodded, though he looked slightly disappointed. “Yeah, of course.” you nodded, walking him over to the door, opening it. He turned around. “Is it okay to give you a hug, y/n?”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding, letting him wrap his arms around your waist as you looped them around his neck. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, tears forming in your eyes as you realized how much you missed this. How much you needed this. When he went to pull away, you held him a little more tightly before letting him go.

He smiled at you before turning to leave. “Take as much time as you need, y/n.”

You gave him the smallest of smiles back. “I’ll see you later Bucky.”

And with that, you closed the door behind you, not having a clue what any of this meant. This didn’t make it okay by any means, but maybe, just maybe, the two of you could start fresh. Together.

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | chapter one: you like milkshakes?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.3K

notes: confession, i am struggling these days with my insane attraction to min yoongi.  this guy has it all.  looks and talent and mystery and sweetness -- he’s the total package. so i really wanted to give him a story in this AU that i’ve come to love so much and i truly hope you guys enjoy it.  

i also hope you guys know how much i appreciate every single one of you. i see your reblogs and comments and likes and i try to answer every one because it truly makes my day.  you guys make my day.

i could not post this fic without shouting out the amazing @hobi-gif because honestly, if hope didn’t read it, did i even write it? and i’m sending major love to three people who are such a source of laughter and support for me, @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna @taetaewonderland. you guys keep me in stitches.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece! Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

*************************

Yoongi had fucked up.

He’d misread the massive man’s approach, tracking him in one direction when the guy was actually headed in another.  That’s how the asshole managed to catch Yoongi off guard with one meaty fist to the face. 

It didn’t matter that it was hundreds of pounds of fat -- not muscle -- behind that punch.  It was wielding more than enough momentum to blow up the side of Yoongi’s face like a bomb. 

That’s the night he landed in the ER at Songdo at nearly two in the morning, pressing gauze to his bleeding face.  

That’s the night he found himself chuckling inside an empty exam room, reading triage paperwork that made him sound like some kind of war hero instead of just an idiot who got caught looking the wrong way.

That’s the night he met you.

“Rough evening, Mister Yun?” 

Yoongi had looked up from the floor just as you’d breezed into the room, tablet in hand.  That moment marked the second time he’d been caught off guard that night.

“That looks like it hurts,” you’d murmured sympathetically, eyes raking over the bloody mess on his face.  Your gaze was clinical -- professional -- as you assessed his grossly swollen eye and the half dozen bleeding cuts that surrounded it.  

But then you’d stopped looking at him -- and stepped back to really look at him.  

Yoongi had taken one look at your enormous, dark eyes and your soft, sweet face and he was dumbstruck.  He’d blinked back at you with the only eye that could still move.  

“You’re a doctor?”

“Nope,” you’d replied casually, turning to reach for a pair of latex gloves. “I’m a janitor. But I’ve always wanted to give this medicine thing a try. You don’t mind, right?”  

Your eyes had sparkled then, bright with humor -- and Yoongi couldn’t help but grin despite the pain pulsing from the left side of his face.

“Here’s the deal, Mister Yun,” you’d said, pulling on your gloves.  “I’m a resident.  And I’m more than qualified to handle the -- situation -- on your face, but if you feel more comfortable waiting for the attending, I’m happy to step back.  Good luck seeing him before sunrise, though.”

“Nah,” Yoongi had chuckled.  “I think I’ll take my chances with you.”

“Good call.”

You’d leaned in close after that, gloved fingers firm under his chin as you turned his face from side to side.  You’d smelled fucking amazing.  The light, fresh scent that lingered on your skin sure as hell beat the disinfectant odor in this place.

“What happened to you tonight, Mister Yun?”

“It’s a funny story, actually.”

“Oh, great,” you’d said dryly.  “‘Cause it turns out, I love funny stories.”

Yoongi had flinched when you’d peeled the gauze back, exposing the angry wounds to the air.  But he’d forced himself to sit dutifully still as you got to work cleaning the caked blood off his face and eye.

“Thing is, I work for the circus,” he’d started, hissing under his breath when you swiped across an open cut above his eye.  “One of the elephants got rowdy while we were practicing a number tonight and just kicked me right in the face.”

You’d stopped dabbing at his eye then, one brow raised and a cynical slant to your mouth.

Yoongi liked that you knew he was full of shit right away. 

He liked that you’d played along anyway.

“God, I hate when that happens,” you’d said with feigned outrage, cutting your eyes at him as you dropped a piece of bloody gauze on the tray at his side.  

“I know, right?”

That’s when Yoongi had won a real smile from you, wide and genuine.  That's when Yoongi made the mistake of looking at you for just a moment too long.  

He knew it by the way your smile fell away as you cleared your throat and turned your focus back to his damaged face.

“Well, I have good news for you Mister Yun,” you’d said after a while, eyes scanning the freshly cleaned wounds.  You’d run your gloved fingers gently over one particularly deep slash over his eye and Yoongi felt a shudder run up his back.  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to live.”

“Well, that is good news.”

There was that smile again.  

It seemed like no time at all before you had him all patched up -- cuts sanitized and sealed with skin adhesive; swollen eye cleaned and medicated.  Yoongi had felt a strange kind of disappointment as he’d watched you gather your supplies, pull your gloves off and drop them in the trash can near the door.

“You’re all set, Mister Yun,” you’d murmured. “Watch out for those elephants, okay? I’d hate for them to ruin a perfectly nice face.”

Then you were gone.

***************************

Thing is -- Kim Namjoon is a rules guy.

It doesn’t matter that he runs a criminal organization -- or that the men in his employ are gangsters in custom ties and suits.  He expects dirty work done clean because that’s what sets the Gajog apart.

Rotate hospitals.  Use fake names.  Pay in cash.

All of those protocols are in place to keep any one of the Gajog from drawing unwanted attention.  Truthfully, Namjoon’s operations usually run so neatly his men rarely have to seek treatment for anything beyond the occasional black eye or broken bone.  That’s why he’d rather trust his men to legitimate doctors in legitimate hospitals than hand them over to some back-alley hack.

Thing is -- shit has gotten a lot more heated of late.  

An audit of the Gajog books has turned up millions in missing won, stolen over time by street-level guys all over the city.  Yoongi and Hoseok are the ones on the front lines, tasked with confronting those men -- getting them to pay and getting them back in line.

Sometimes they play ball.  Sometimes they don’t.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Yoongi knew the moment they arrived at the crumbling warehouse in the Nowon district that shit was probably going to get messy.  Their contact was fucked up -- sloppy drunk -- and belligerent from the jump.

After that, everything was a blur.

At some point during the scuffle, Yoongi heard his hand crunch under the heavy weight of the man’s steel-toed boot. The pain was still flaring hot from his knuckles when Hoseok finally took the guy down.  

Right now Yoongi should be at Asan or Gachon or any of the other half-dozen hospitals in the city.  He should have dragged his tired ass and bloody hand across town because those are the rules.

But instead -- for the second time in a month -- he’s sitting under the sickly fluorescent lights in an empty exam room at Songdo at nearly three in the morning.

Hoping to see you. 

*************************

Yoongi is gingerly flexing his aching fingers when a light knock sounds at the door.

It was a long shot that you’d be here tonight -- and an even longer shot that you’d be the one treating him. But when the door to the exam room opens, it’s you on the other side.

Yoongi’s pulse picks up in response.

“Sorry to keep you waiting tonight Mister -- ”  you stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide on his before darting back down the tablet in your hand.  You scan the screen slowly then look back up, gaze critical.

“ -- Mister Woo.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi replies casually.  “It’s no problem.”

You approach him slowly then, disbelief etched into your delicate features and Yoongi takes in every detail.

It’s like he’d forgotten how pretty you are since the last time he saw you.

You’re nothing like the flashy women who like to hang around the usual Gajog haunts.  You’re the kind of pretty that doesn’t cost hundreds of thousands of won a month to maintain.  The kind of pretty that doesn’t come off at the end of the night. 

Yoongi swallows thickly as you eye him, lips parted like you’re about to fire off a hundred different questions.  But you don’t.  

You play along.  

Again.

“Right.  Let’s get to it then, Mister Woo,” you say carefully, slipping on your gloves.  “What happened to your hand?”

“Well, you see, I’m a hot air balloon operator.”  

His mouth quirks into a smile and your eyes flash in response.  

“Wind was nuts today and the basket came down on my hand.  I think I might have broken something.”

“Hmm,” you murmur.  “Hot air balloon operator, huh?”

Yoongi winces when you take his hand between your gloved ones, gently applying pressure to each knuckle.

“Yeah.”

“That’s an interesting way to make a living, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi chokes down a groan when you press against one particularly sore spot.  You back off the pressure, turning to make a note on your chart.

“Well, I’m an interesting guy,” he whispers.  

You look up at him then, dark eyes focused and intense.  

“That you are.”

You’re looking at Yoongi like you can see inside him and the scrutiny makes him squirm.  He lowers his eyes to the floor and keeps quiet while you clean his hand and apply ointment to his cuts.

“Mister Woo, it looks like most of these are surface abrasions, but the knuckles concern me.  I’m going to have to send you for an X-ray.”

“Yeah, okay.  It hurts like hell.”

“I bet it does,” you say quietly, typing into your tablet.  “Someone is going to come and take you back when they’re ready.  I have to go check on some other patients, but I’ll be back when we have some images to go over.”

“Sure,” Yoongi breathes.

You take another long look at him before standing to leave and Yoongi wonders for a moment if he’s made a mistake. Maybe he’s misread you like he misread that brawler who caught him with the nasty punch all those weeks ago.  

You could be off to flag a security guard.  Or leaving to call the police.

He really should have just followed protocol.

Yoongi sits in the quiet of that exam room waiting -- ready -- for trouble that never comes.  Because when a knock finally sounds at the door, it’s not the Korean National Police.  

It’s the X-ray technician.

Maybe he didn’t misread you after all.

*********************

It takes hours for you to come back.

“Mixed news tonight, Mister Woo,” you say upon your return.  “You have hairline fractures in three of your knuckles, which explains the pain.  Unfortunately, that means I’m not going to be able to do much for you beyond wrapping your hand.”

Yoongi nods.  “Got it.”

“And you should probably lay off the ballooning for a while,” you say under your breath as you lay out your bandages.  “Just a suggestion.”

“Good idea,” Yoongi chuckles.  “Safety first.”

You fix him with another one of those long, indecipherable looks before getting to work on his hand.  But you don’t say anything and the longer the silence stretches on, the antsier Yoongi feels.

“So…” he exhales, clearing his throat, “... you like milkshakes?”

“Everyone likes milkshakes,” you return evenly.  You don’t take your eyes off his hand or the flexible material you’re carefully wrapping around his sore knuckles. 

“Lactose intolerant people don’t like milkshakes.”

“Lactose intolerant people like milkshakes as much as the rest of us,” you argue.  “They just can’t tolerate them.”

“What are you, some kind of doctor?”

Your lips quirk with the threat of a laugh you manage to suppress but Yoongi catches the expression before it disappears.  You seem to relax after that.  He does, too.

“Dijeoteu has the best milkshakes in the city.  Ever been there?”

“Can’t say that I have,” you admit, taping off a bandage.  

“It’s not far from here.  Open twenty-four hours.  I hang out there sometimes.”

“So you’re a milkshake-drinking hot-air balloon enthusiast,” you murmur, inspecting your handiwork closely.  “Anything else I should know about you, Mister Woo?’

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Not really.  That about covers it.”

You hum thoughtfully under your breath as you finish wrapping the bruised knuckles.

“All done.  How does it feel?”

“Better,” Yoongi admits.  “Thanks.”

You gaze at him then, thoughtful -- expression soft with something that looks almost like concern.  Yoongi drops his gaze down to his bandaged hand.

This is the part where you’ve finished -- the part where you leave.  

This is the part where he should say something to you but he has no idea what or how.

“I would say come back soon, but this is a hospital and that seems wildly inappropriate,” you announce, voice breaking clear through his stupor.

You turn back to him just as you’re walking towards the door, and for a moment Yoongi thinks you’re going to give in and ask him any one of the dozens of questions that must be swirling around your mind.

But you don’t.

“Try to take care of that hand, Mister Woo.”

Yoongi nods.

“Thanks, Doc.”

**********************

YOU

Doctor Lee is on his Houdini shit tonight, apparently.

The ER is packed -- waiting room crowded with crabby patients -- and you are, once again, running yourself ragged to get to every last one.  Lee is, once again, nowhere to be found.

“Page him again,” you call out as you pass the charge nurse outside an exam room.  

A quick scan of your tablet confirms the toddler behind this magic door has been vomiting all night.  You shut your eyes and wish a slow, violent death on your absent attending.  Vomit is the single worst phenomenon in medicine.

“I’ve paged him three times,” Nurse Ko calls back.

“Page him again,” you repeat, forcing a smile and pushing into the room.

Thirty minutes and one change of scrubs later you are checking charts on the next patient in line.  You pat the pocket of your new scrubs and realize you’ve left a half-eaten energy bar around here somewhere.  

No chance you’ll get that back.

Lee picks this moment to reappear, back from doing God knows what.  He strolls down the hallway like a man with nothing on his to-do list.

“You paged for me?” he inquires casually.

“A few times, actually,” you mutter.  “I’m getting killed out here.”

“Relax,” Lee purrs, condescension dripping from his tone.  “We’ll get it done.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from firing back the half-dozen nasty responses that spring to mind. There is no we when it comes to Doctor Lee.  He’s always been flighty and inconsistent, but these days he’s practically a missing person.  You’re still not sure how hospital management hasn’t figured out that he’s making his resident run the overnight ER.

“There’s a guy down the hall who says he swallowed a magnet,” you say, waving a hand in that direction.  “If you can pick him up I can get to this head trauma.”

Lee sighs like it’s a major inconvenience that you’ve asked him to do his job.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it.”

***********************

It’s nearly four in the morning by the time you have a chance to catch your breath.

You walk out to scan the waiting area and to your relief, there are only a handful of patients yet to be seen.  Then your eyes land on one young man -- slumped into a chair in an oversized coat, hat pulled low over his eyes.

You freeze.  

The man in the chair must feel your stare from across the room because he straightens, giving you a better look at the face hidden under the brim of his hat.  You let go of a breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding.

It’s not him.  

It’s not the mysterious man with the fake names and the bogus stories and the insanely handsome face. You shake your head as you look back down at your tablet, silently chastising yourself for even entertaining the thought.  

You shouldn’t still be thinking about this guy and you know it.

But it’s driving you nuts that you can’t figure him out.

He’s never tried to play you for pills and that seems to be the only thing people lie about these days. But if his problem isn’t drugs it’s certainly something because no one lands in the hospital that many times, with that many phoney stories unless they’re up to no good.

So you ignore the nonsensical disappointment you feel when the guy in that chair is not the guy. 

Because deep down you know he’s either in trouble -- or he is trouble.

***********************

Your pager goes off for a second time and you silence the alert, tossing it onto a nearby blanket.

It’s not like you’re hiding out in here -- not really. 

It’s just that you’ve already had one patient cough up blood on your sneakers and another swing at you when you refused to give him narcotics, so this night is off to a spectacularly bad start.

Besides, Doctor Lee could use a taste of his own medicine.  

This week has been the worst, by far.  You’ve been seeing at least three patients to his every one and you’re exhausted.  If there’s any justice, he’s walking into the exam room where the infant with explosive diarrhea is waiting to be seen -- you check your watch -- right about now.

The door to the linen closet cracks open and you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“What, you thought I didn’t know about your little hiding place?”  Nurse Ko asks with a grin.  “I find everyone’s hiding place, eventually.”

“Haven’t found Lee’s yet,” you gripe. 

“Yeah, well he’s sneakier,” she laughs.  “Here, I brought you something.”  

She tosses a granola bar at you and it lands in your lap.  

“Thanks,” you sigh, ripping it open.  You take a bite and Ko leans against the doorframe.

“I don’t page you for my health, you know.”

“I know,” you whine around a mouthful of dried oats.  “I just needed five minutes.”

“Well, I’ve got a guy out here who says he’ll only see you.  Doesn’t want Doctor Lee and says he’ll wait as long as it takes.”

A piece of the granola bar lodges in your throat and you cough around it, spluttering while Ko looks on, amused.  She waits for you to collect yourself.

“Is he -- ”

“ -- hot? Yes. Very,” Ko smiles.  

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment at both the observation and the fact that it’s coming from a woman in her sixties.

“I was going to say young,” you grumble, standing and dusting your hands off with a towel.

“That, too.  Come to think of it, I know I’ve seen him here before.  You have some kind of admirer, jagiya?”

You flush.

**************************

“Good evening, Mister Kim.”

You hope the air of nonchalance you affect when you enter the exam room is enough to mask your jitters.  

Your mystery patient looks back at you with those dark eyes and a half-smirk that makes your heart trip in your chest.  You take a steadying breath as you look down at your tablet.

Get it together, girl.

“What brings you in tonight?” you inquire lightly.  “Sword-swallowing accident?  Lose a fist fight with a bear?”

Your mysterious patient chuckles under his breath.  

“Where would you get a couple of outlandish ideas like that, Doc?”

You look up at him just as the teasing smirk on his face becomes a full smile and heat blooms in your chest and face.  You force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“I dislocated my shoulder.  Did you know I work air traffic control at Incheon?”

You shake your head with amused weariness as you make notes on your tablet.

“Crazy night.  One of the planes nearly slid off the runway and I threw my shoulder out trying to get it back on track.”

“Did you save it?”

“Saved it and all 227 people on board.”

“Bravo, Mister Kim.” 

“Just doing my job,” he shrugs.  

You set your tablet down on the exam table with a thump, eyeing him as you reach for a pair of gloves.

“The charge nurse says you asked for me.”

“I did,” he admits.  “You never told me what your favorite kind of milkshake is.”

You cock your head to the side as you look at him.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mister Kim,” you murmur, feigning ignorance. “According to my records this is the first time I’ve ever seen you.”

“Oh, yeah.  Right,” he chuckles.  

“You need some help getting undressed?”

“Yeah,” he admits, slipping one arm out of his leather jacket.  You lean in to help him pull the other side off, compelling yourself to ignore the way he smells like soap and sweat and man when you’re this close.

“It’s strawberry.”

You blurt the words out, anxious to give your brain a task that doesn’t involve analyzing this man’s smell.  Something about the mischievous twist to his mouth tells you he knows you’re flustered by his nearness.  

“I would have guessed chocolate,” he muses, reaching one hand down to grab the hem of his shirt. He drags it up his abdomen and you will your eyes to stay on his face -- refusing to give him any indication that you have more than a clinical interest in what lies underneath.

“Everyone likes chocolate,” you argue, taking over when he can’t get the shirt up any higher.  You push it over his head and carefully work it off his shoulder.  “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”

“Mission accomplished, Doc.”

He gazes at you then -- chest bare and eyes sharp beneath those inky lashes --  and you feel a bolt of awareness run the length of your spine. You pray the heat you suddenly feel all over your body is not manifesting in damning spots of color on your face.  

You remind yourself to get back to work. 

He sucks a breath between his teeth when you press gently against the inflamed muscle and tissue.

“My shoulder’s been shit for years,” he confesses.  “I screwed it up when I was a kid and it hasn’t been the same since.”

“So this happens to you from time to time?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then I’m going to have to refer you for an MRI,” you say, and he groans when you press into his shoulder again.  “There could be a lot of scar tissue in here, but I won’t be able to know what’s going on until we get some clear scans.”

Your eyes flick back to his.  

Every word that’s ever come out of this man’s mouth is a lie -- but there’s something that feels honest about the way he’s looking at you right now.  Something that makes you feel seasick, unsteady.

“Turn to the side for me,” you say quietly, and the thin paper that lines the exam table rustles as he complies.  The relief you feel when he pivots away from you with those eyes and that look is whole-bodied.  

“For now, the best I can do is probably pop -- “

Your words trail off as your eyes lock on a wound that sits just a few inches from his spine, just above the line of his jeans.  The edges are white and soft with age -- the area long-healed -- but the trauma is unmistakable.  

Textbook.  

The anger you feel as you stare at the wound doesn’t make any sense.  

But you feel it anyway.

“Is it still inside of you, or did they pull it out?”

“What -- ”

“-- The bullet Mister Kim,” you interrupt sharply.  “If it’s still in you, I promise it will come out the second they load you into an MRI machine.  The hard way.”

The muscles of his back flex as he stiffens.  Tension bleeds into the lines of his body and into his voice when he finally speaks.

“It’s out.”

Neither of you says another word.

The room feels hollow now, painfully quiet without talk of elephants or hot air balloons or milkshakes.  The two of you work together silently to crack his abused shoulder back into place.  Somehow he manages to endure that pain without making a sound.

In the end, it’s you that has to speak first.

“That should hold you for now,” you say tightly, standing to toss your gloves in the trash.   You grab your tablet to make notes.

“You mad at me, Doc?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter, fingers flying over your screen.  “I don’t even know you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re mad at me?”

You tear your eyes away from the screen to find his.  

There’s no teasing or humor there anymore.  He looks boyish and unsure like this, peering back at you with somber eyes from beneath long black bangs that have fallen into his face.

“No more stories, no more bullshit.  Tell me who you are.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can think better of them -- before you can consider how stupid it is to interrogate a complete stranger with a now confirmed history of violence.  Before you can consider that you have no right to the anger that now streaks white-hot through your veins.

“I can’t,” he breathes quietly.  “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head in disgust.

“Are you dangerous?”

Before he even speaks, you get your answer.  You get it in the way color erupts across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.  The way he looks away from you and down to his hands.

“I guess that depends on who you ask,” he whispers.

“I’m asking you,” you fire back.

He doesn’t answer.

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting for him to say something in his defense. Waiting for him to pull another gag and tell just one more ridiculous story.  But the seconds tick by and he says nothing.

“A nurse is going to come by with a sling. She’ll help you get dressed, too,” you say tightly, walking to the door.

You don’t know why your heart feels like it seizes in your chest when you turn to give him one more look.

“Take care of yourself, Mister Kim,” you say quietly.  “And don’t come back.”

*****************************

Glossary:

Dijeoteu: dessert

Jagiya: sweetie, sweetheart

*****************************

Tag List!

@heroesfan101 @kpop-saved-ruinedme @mono-kookie @ctvrty @bluewhale52 @thenopekid @uhgood-dooghu @youwannabelostandnotbefound @yiyi4657 @daydreambrliever @mstbeautifulmmt @darktsuki0 @mademysongtakeflight @fireflyinsummer @paperpurple @btseditsworld @outrofenty @taestannie​ @yeojaa​ @sahmfanficbts​ @snackhobi​

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

-

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

-

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

[sesamestreep]

your choice of Tenet characters for 6, "patting the other’s head"

i misread this as “patting the other’s hand” and I’d already written this whole thing by the time I realized my mistake, so I just went with it! 😬

It takes about eight years—that’s total, backwards and forwards, not each way, it’s worth noting—before they’re in a place where it makes sense to recruit Neil. The idea of it sneaks up on him, actually, that it’s finally time. It’s a thing he’s thought about and planned for and (honestly) worried over so much that it doesn’t feel like a real thing he could just decide to do one day. It feels too monumental, like he needs permission from someone else before it could happen. He has a whole network of people, too; he could theoretically ask someone for permission if that’s what he really needs, but he’s the one in charge, in the end. He’s not sure it would be good for morale if he shows any doubt.

Still, it’s weighing on his mind when he goes to have his regular lunch with Sir Michael. He hadn’t truthfully been all that surprised to find that his generous benefactor had actually been in on everything since the beginning—the beginning beginning, that is, which is saying something. He’d done a commendable job of not showing any recognition when Priya had connected them during the Sator case—which was the other beginning, or it was the end, depending on how you look at it—but he hadn’t actually been fresh faced to Sir Michael then. They’d met earlier, in Michael’s case—and later, technically, in his. Once he’d looped back to actually found Tenet in earnest, it had been clear that someone like Sir Michael Crosby would be an asset to them and he'd need to be involved somehow. If the timeline imploded or whatever, he figured they would just have to deal with it. They had so few friends, back then, that the risk was acceptable if it gave them even one more.

The point is this: if there’s anyone he can ask for permission about the Neil question, it’s Sir Michael. He’s not in charge, not by a long shot, but he’s older and significantly wiser and not likely to sugar coat anything. Besides, if you can’t trust someone who’s been knighted, who can you trust?

He lays the whole case out for him while they’re eating. Well, Michael is eating, unbothered and undeterred by business talk as always, while he rambles on for fifteen minutes. It feels like rambling to him, at least, accustomed as he normally is to staying professional and keeping the ends out. When he finishes speaking, he takes a big, obvious deep breath, which would certainly give him away if nothing else that came before it did.

Michael, of course, takes his time thinking it over. “You know as well as I do that you don’t need my permission for this,” he finally says, after he’s taken an introspective sip of his wine and blotted his mouth with a napkin.

“I’m not looking for permission,” he replies, carefully. “I’m looking for…”

“Forgiveness?” Sir Michael supplies, with a knowing look. He’s amused, though. That much is obvious.

He won’t rise to the bait, even though it feels suspiciously like the truth now that he hears it out loud. He feels vaguely embarrassed at the selfishness of what he’s about to do, even though he knows the end and it’s not all bad. Neil is an important piece of the puzzle that ends up saving the world. He said himself that they had good times together—in the past for Neil, but in the future for him. If he doesn’t recruit him, they don’t get those experiences, and they don’t save the world. But recruiting Neil also means sending him, knowingly, to his death, and that feels like a high price to ask for a few years of whatever good times they’re going to have. He doesn’t know what Neil meant by that—we get up to some stuff—but he hopes he does. If he’s being honest with himself, he knew where they were heading from the moment Neil sat down next to him in that club in Mumbai. The timing is the mystery for them, not the end result.

“I need an unbiased opinion,” he finally says, “on the strength of my assessment.”

“Then you’ve come to the wrong place, I’m afraid,” Micheal says, as he casually pops an olive into his mouth.

“How so?”

“I’m completely biased on this matter. You’re terribly good at what you do, my friend, don’t get me wrong, but I worry about you. About your soul. There are more things in life than work!”

“There can’t be,” he replies, immediately, as he shakes his head. “Not with this work. Not for me.”

Sir Michael shrugs, as though he expected nothing less. “You see? This is why I’m going to tell you to recruit Neil!”

“We would recruit him to work for us, so I don’t really see how it would help you, if your goal is to get me to work less.”

“My dear,” Michael says, unimpressed, “I know I have the glow of youth about me, but I was not, in fact, born yesterday.”

He feels his face warm, but he knows from years of practice that his expression remains pointedly neutral. “Point taken,” he murmurs in the direction of his untouched lunch.

Michael reaches across the table to pat his hand gently, allowing the touch to linger for a moment. “As much as I enjoy your company, I don’t think I can go on being your only friend,” he says, with a charming smile. “And all this talk of the end times does put me off my appetite occasionally.”

“Sure it does,” he replies, with an equally affable eye roll. If his eyes feel a little watery as he does it, no one needs to know.

”It’s settled, then,” Michael says, cheerfully, as he withdraws his hand and raises his wine glass in a mock toast.“You’ll go recruit that beautiful young man of yours and we’ll keep trying to avert the apocalypse. Together!”

Against his wishes, he finds himself smiling and he brings his own glass up to clink against Sir Michael’s. “Together,” he agrees.

[buckyownsmylife]

Black and white - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry is a vampire and he’s been trying to keep you safe by distancing himself. 

Warnings: vampire!Henry AU, blood, smut 

A/N: this was requested by anon waaaay back in october 😅 It’s finally here!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The bell rang as another customer entered the shop, but I was too busy jotting down the books Miss Gayle was buying that it took me a minute to raise my head to greet them. When I did, I immediately wished I’d just ignored the sound, despite the fact that it was both absolutely impolite and completely out of character for me.

Nonetheless, it was done, and I scrambled to replace the smile that had fallen from my face at the sight of Henry with another one, albeit a visibly plastic replacement. It was nothing like the ones I usually greeted my customers with, and by the way Henry flinched and Miss Gayle raised an eyebrow, it was easy to see that I was in no way comfortable with the new arrival.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” I barely acknowledged him, turning back to the nice old lady who had kept her weekly visits to my shop ever since I first opened it. It was times like these where I’d wish I actually had people working for me. “That’ll be 35 dollars, Miss Gayle. Do you want a receipt?”

Eyebrows still raised, she simply fished two twenties before handing them to me, just as I handed her a five back. She always tried to leave me with some sort of tip, but I’d known her well enough by now to be able to anticipate her antics.

“You’re impossible, dear,” she’d always tease me, to which I’d laugh heartily. The only difference was that today, after our usual banter, she chanced a glance at Henry, who was trying to pretend to be busy while looking at some bookcases, before turning back to me. “Give him a chance. He clearly cares about you, and you need someone to do so, so you don’t end up like me, all alone with only this store to keep you company.”

The unrequested advice took me by surprise, and I froze in my spot, staring back at her with her receipt still in my hand. It was only when she reached out to take it from me that I snapped out of it, hopefully blinking my confusion away from my face.

It wouldn’t be the first time I seriously considered the possibility that Miss Gayle was actually a witch. 

“I think you’re misreading the situation, Miss Gayle. But don’t worry, if it’s any consolation, so have I.” She frowned at my words, undoubtedly pondering over what I could possibly mean, but I tried to keep a smile on my face as I walked her to the door. Any excuse to keep myself away from the man waiting for my attention.

When the bell rang again, signaling her leaving, I sighed, trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever the hell was about to happen. But before I could even turn around to face him, Henry’s voice cut through my whirlwind of thoughts, declaring, “She’s right, you know that?”

I hummed halfheartedly, not wanting to turn around and deal with this, but knowing it was better to get on with it already. “Right about what? About you caring for me? I don’t doubt that, Henry, but I also don’t think I was wrong in what I told her. I clearly misread whatever it was we had going on, because I thought you had taken me out on a date and I thought you had been too nervous to take the first step and kiss me goodnight, so for the first time in my life I gathered enough courage to initiate a kiss, only to be rudely pushed away before you disappeared for days.”

It all came out in one jumbled speech, my need to get those feelings out making me run over the words while I tried to get through this to save me the embarrassment of having to relive that night again. It was all I’d thought about for days, and just when I was finally about to get over it, he just had to waltz back into my shop and throw me on a loop again.

“Look, I don’t mind that you don’t reciprocate my feelings and I don’t mind that I made a fool of myself that night. Did it suck? Yes. A lot. But what really hurt was the fact that that stupid risk I decided to take was miscalculated, because even if I considered the idea of you not reciprocating my feelings, I never thought you would simply allow it to destroy what I considered to be a good and strong friendship. Because that’s how I saw you, first and foremost. As a friend.”

I took a long breath as I finally averted my eyes from him, trying to force myself not to cry in front of this man and become even more pathetic to the one person who I wanted to impress more than anyone else in my life. God, this crush was going to destroy me, just how weak was I?

I didn’t really expect any sort of response from him. What could he say after all of that? Still, it took me by surprise when he interrupted my string of self-deprecating thoughts. “I don’t want to be a friend.”

My heart started to pound inside my chest, my eyes suddenly meeting his again. As much as the sick part of my mind wanted to tell me that he was saying he didn’t want to have any association with me anymore - he did avoid me for three days, after all - rationally, it was clear that he meant something else entirely.

Henry’s P.O.V.

  I watched her eyes grow bigger, her breathing becoming more laboured. I could hear her blood pumping more rapidly on her veins, calling out to me, but for the first time since we met, it was easy for me to ignore it. I didn’t want to lose her, in any shape or form. All of my attention was focused on her and her reactions, because I needed her to believe in me.

“You weren’t wrong. It was a date, or at least I wanted it to be a date. And I did chicken out when it came to kiss you goodnight, but it wasn’t for the reason that you’re thinking.” She was frowning, clearly trying to understand what I was hiding, but this wasn’t the time or the place. “Give me another chance,” I whispered, reaching out for her hand when I heard the bell over the door of her bookstore ringing again, signaling the arrival of another customer. “Go out with me tonight. I promise that I’ll explain everything.”

Her brows furrowed deeply, I knew she was having a hard time deciding to trust me again, to put her heart on the line once more. And I hated myself for putting her in such a situation. I hated that I’d wrecked her self-esteem, made her doubt my feelings for her.

Which was why I knew that I was making the right choice by fighting to stay in her life.

“Okay,” came her answer finally, yet not at all in a firm tone. It broke my heart, but I understood. “Come and pick me up after I close the store. I’ll be waiting.” And with a simple nod, she dismissed me until later.

Fair enough. I knew she had things to do and that she needed time to go over the repercussions of what I had just admitted, but a part of me was scared that being apart would simply make her second guess her decision. Still, I needed to respect it. I owed her at least that. So I left her to her own devices, trusting that when I got back to the store she would really be there for me to pick her up.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I spent the rest of the day unable to concentrate on my work activities. Everything I did, my mind brought me back to Henry and those two very pungent moments when I was with him. The night of our “date” and this morning.

My gut told me I hadn’t made a mistake in accepting his request for an explanation. Even during those days apart, I knew there was a reason for his behavior, I just… I knew it. I couldn’t explain it, especially since we didn’t even know each other for that long. But it was the same thing that made me trust him implicitly. The same feeling in the depths of my soul that recognized him somehow, that made me start to fall for him during long conversations over coffee in my bookshop.

Still, my mind begged me to run away, to protect myself. I didn’t need to go through this again. Nothing stopped him from rejecting me again - in fact, that was very likely to happen. Doesn’t love work out just like… 1% of the time? 

Just when I was starting to freak myself out, I heard my name being uttered from behind me, making me jump in the air. “God, make a noise or something,” I complained, a hand over my heart as I turned around to find him clearly trying very hard not to laugh at me. 

“Sorry.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I simply noted, “You don’t look sorry at all.” He wanted to laugh again, I knew that, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes became peculiarly soft as he pondered over what to say. “You’re right, I’m not sorry. You look really cute when you’re scared. Can I kiss you now?” 

I should say no. Right? I should totally say no. But I had been crushing on this guy for the last few months and in that second, all I seemed to be able to do was to nod, my breath hitching when he approached to cradle my entire face with his huge hands. God, he was so beautiful, even more from up close. 

But just when the distance between our lips was about to become nonexistent, just when all I could hear was the blood in my veins being pumped on maximum speed due to the way my heart was pounding in my chest, he hesitated, breaking the spell.

“We shouldn’t,” he whispered almost against my mouth, so close that I could feel his cold breath on my face. “I shouldn’t.” I couldn’t really call it a clarification, since it only left me more confused.

Even worse, it awakened that awful, burning feeling of humiliation, that reignited the fires of embarrassment deep within my stomach. “Why do you do this to me?” His eyes grew big at the realization of my anger, like somehow, he didn’t expect it at all. 

“Did you come here only to break me further? I can’t handle this, Henry. I don’t need this. Please, leave.” For a second, I thought he would, but I don’t know why. Nothing in his demeanor betrayed that would be his intention. If anything, it was the precise opposite. As the concern disappeared from his face, his expression solidified in a hardened mask that showed just how serious he was about whatever it was that he needed to say.

Henry’s P.O.V.

“No. I’m not leaving. Not until you hear what I have to say. Please.” I could see the hesitation on her, and I knew it was deserved. I deserved it. I knew it just as well as I knew that I didn’t deserve her. 

But she did deserve an explanation, and I was going to give her that. And if she could find it in herself to still want me in her life, maybe we could be something more. God knows how much I actually wanted to kiss her.

“Not here,” I implored, needing her to give me just a little bit more of her time. “Can I please join you in your home?”

It took some time, but at last, she nodded, making sure the door of the bookshop was properly locked before silently making her way down the street, taking the path that I had followed so many times before, when I’d accompany her on her trajectory after work. But back then the air was lighter, there was chatter and laughter between us. Now, it felt cold, even colder than my skin.

Thankfully, we were by her house before long. She looked over her shoulder before moving to unlock the door, like she wanted to make sure I was still there. There was absolutely no way I’d leave her hanging like that again, especially since she had found it in her to continuously give me another chance.

“Thank you,” I peeped when she invited me in, quickly assuming the seat she pointed me to. I was even more thankful for the fact that she still chose to sit by my side on the sofa, instead of pulling a chair to keep some space between us. Maybe she liked to be in a close proximity to me just as much as I did with her.

“I… don’t know where to start,” I began, suddenly self-conscious and doubting everything I’d decided on my way here again. But then she shrugged, and the realization that I was about to lose her before I even had her was enough to get me to suddenly blurt out, “I’m a vampire.”

At first, there was no reaction at all. She remained seemingly unfazed, arms crossed in front of her chest, expression thoroughly unreadable. I would be sweating if I could, but as it were, I just started babbling even more. 

“Please, don’t be afraid. I’d never hurt you. I promise. But that’s why I’ve been keeping away, I… I feel so attracted to you, but I couldn’t let you fall for me without knowing who I truly am. And this is who I truly am. Still me. Just a little bit older than you thought.” Still no answer, until suddenly she cut the silence that had fallen in the living room with a long drawn-out breath, before exclaiming, “I’m not afraid.”

That was literally the last thing I thought she would say immediately after I admitted my secret.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You… You’re not afraid of me?” He repeated, clearly not believing what I had just said.

“No.” After a few seconds of silence, he ended up cutting the tension in the room with a request.

“Then tell me what you’re thinking.” As bizarre as the situation was and as confused as my feelings for Henry were at the moment, I couldn’t help but to joke, “What, you can’t read my mind?”

He pursed his lips, clearly unamused but at the same time relieved that I wasn’t angry or afraid of him. I took a deep breath, still looking him dead in the eyes, before admitting, “I’m thinking… that I really want to fuck you.”

That caught him by surprise.

“You want me?” I had to huff, rolling my eyes at his stupidity. How could someone be this unaware of social queues? Or, better yet, of his own attractiveness?

“Yes, I want you. And I’m done holding myself back from getting what I want.” And with that, I climbed on his lap, tugging him down to meet my lips by the collar of his shirt. He was cold, colder than he should be, but I don’t think I would have noticed if I didn’t know who - or actually, what - he was.

He tasted like mint, and a little bit like coffee. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t something this ordinary. And I especially wasn’t expecting to like it so much. But suddenly, he grasped my hips, stopping my unconscious slow grind against his crotch. “I’m not sure you’ve completely understood what this means,” he started, and I had to laugh. 

“You drink blood, right? What else is there to understand? I like you, Henry. I’m not gonna suddenly stop liking you over something like this. Now please, can you kiss me? I’ve been waiting for this for so long...” I don’t know if it was my words or my pouty face, but something made him grab me with a new vigor that had me screaming in excitement.

“I knew you were perfect for me,” he whispered as he rubbed his nose on my cheek, making me giggle with delight. The absolute sweetness of the statement had my heart skipping a beat momentarily.

“Then kiss me, you idiot.” Thankfully, he did just so. And although I could still feel his restraint, I now understood what it meant - and it was so much easier to deal with when I had his lips to distract me. 

When I had to pull apart to catch my breath, he kept his mouth on my skin, slowly tracing a path from my jaw down to my throat, and when he got to my jugular, he stopped, simply inhaling while I felt his mouth water on top of it. “You ever wonder what I taste like?” I teased, running my hand through his curls, and he pulled away to look me in the eyes, first in concern and then in lust.

Henry’s P.O.V.

“All the fucking time.” Instead of being afraid, the little mixen bit on the lower lip I wished I still had between my own teeth, before remarking, “That’s kinky.” It had me roaring with laughter until I felt the need to attack her mouth with mine again.

“I’ll show you kinky.” After she had to separate from me to catch her breath once more, I traced the path her blood followed down her neck until the neckline of her dress, before softly pulling the sleeves down on each side so I could lave her collarbone and shoulders with my tongue, too.

“Do you want a taste?” She whispered, the question making me freeze for a second, my fingers pressing even tighter in the soft skin of her hips. I could feel her heartbeat under them. She was so… alive. Perhaps that’s why she made me feel like that, too.

“I couldn’t possibly ask you for that.”

“You’re not asking.” I tried to find something, anything in her eyes that showed me a sign of humour, but there was nothing. She was honestly doing this. I hesitated for a while, until she used the grip she had on my curls to pull me down against her neck, that she exposed even more to me by throwing her head back. “Please.”

My eyes trailed down the curve of her shoulder as I felt my fangs starting to grow. A swipe of my tongue over them confirmed what I already knew: they were ready. With one last look into her eyes to see if she wanted to back out, I leaned over her and pierced the neck of my beloved, sucking just enough to allow me to taste the magnificent essence that kept her alive before I retreated and lapped the few droplets that still escaped the punctures.

The sight of her breathing hard, making her breasts jump up to my face as I kept her safe in my lap was enough to get me completely hard. “Bed. Now.” That was the only warning I gave her before I rose up from the couch with her clinging to my body, legs wrapped around my back. She giggled against the kiss I stole from her lips, undoubtedly tasting a little bit of herself, before keeping on with the trend of endlessly teasing me for her own amusement.

“You know, I don’t really feel like sleeping right now.” I growled at her continuing giggles, squeezing her ass to grind her against my hardness. I wanted to know just how thoroughly fucked she’d be.

“You’re not going to sleep any time soon, darling.” Reconnecting our lips, I followed blindly in the direction of what I assumed her bedroom to be located, only stopping to let her catch her breath because she pulled away. I would have to be better at remembering that she needed that.

“You never told me what I tasted like,” she breathed out against my lips, buying herself more time to get some air into her lungs. It made me laugh, the question sounding absurd considering everything, but this is precisely what I loved about her.

“Like fucking candy, how about that?” She screamed as I dipped her back, laying her down on the mattress before climbing over her again. “I really want to know if it’s the same down there.”

She clinged to me eagerly, legs wrapping around my body as her hands made quick work of my shirt. It felt intoxicating to see just how desperate she was for me, just how she reciprocated my own desire.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The second I was laid bare for his eyes to take in, a sharp inhale resonated through the room. I could feel his eyes trailing down my body, drinking me in, and it made me dizzy with desire. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was barely over a whisper, and still, I heard it in my very soul.

But then, a thumb was running over my lower lips, teasingly opening me up to his gaze, and I mewled at just how great it felt to be this exposed to him. “And so wet,” he added, using that same thumb to collect some of the moisture I could feel starting to drip from me and then rubbing it all over my pussy.

“What are you gonna do about it?” I asked, trying to muster all of the defiance I could find, but my body was weakened by my need for the man hovering above me - and he knew. He just knew he had reduced me to a needy, whimpering mess, and he was loving every second of it.

His thumb found my clit and he massaged it for a bit, eyes trapping mine in his hypnotizing gaze as he pondered over my question. Until, finally, there was an answer. “I want you to touch yourself.”

Okay, this wasn’t what I was hoping for. But still, I could see the hint of nervousness in his eyes, even if buried under deep layers of desire. So I was happy to oblige, my own hand slowly traveling down my body until it met his, right when he raised the thumb that had been just touching me there up to my lips.

“Open up.” My eyes fluttered shut as my mouth dropped open to accept the digit, and I eagerly swirled my tongue around it before sucking, while my own fingers slowly explored my dripping opening. I don’t know if it was the action he was getting on his thumb or if it was the vision of me dipping two fingers inside of myself and moaning around him, but in a second he had pulled both his and my hands away and had lunged himself at me.

“Eager, aren’t we?” I joked, fully enjoying that for at least this millisecond, I had the upper hand again. Henry didn’t seem to mind, if the way he licked his lips and delved to bruise mine in a breathtaking kiss was any indication of it.

“I’ve dreamed about being in your bed for so long,” he admitted, and my heart grew twice its size at the thought of him actively wishing for this, just like I’d done when I laid in this bed hundreds of nights ever since we met.

“How long has it been?” I asked, hugging his body closer to mine, already addicted to the way it felt to have his weight over me. “Ever since you’ve… done this before, I mean.” Henry chuckled, but didn’t immediately answer as he kept himself busy by littering my collarbones with kisses and lovebites, making me offer my chest up to him. When he grasped one of my breasts in his large hand, I couldn’t stop the loud moan that echoed around the room as my heart beated wildly right under his palm.

“I don’t even remember,” he finally answered, but by then, I had all but completely forgot what I’d even asked. He was slowly but surely messing with my mind and my ability to hold coherent thoughts, all I could focus on was the feeling of his cold hands running over my sweaty skin and his lips licking every inch of me. “It doesn’t even matter. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

Henry’s P.O.V.

The whine she let out was clearly a complaint and a request in itself, making me chuckle against her delicious skin. “Soon,” I promised, nearing the place I was longing to be. “I need to feel you cumming on my lips, first.”

The sigh she let out as I buried my nose on the small curls just over where her fingers had been buried made it clear that she wasn’t about to complain about my plan, at least for now. Still, I needed her to give me the time I needed to fully appreciate this, so while I caressed her thighs to allow myself the space I needed to work with, I negotiated, “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

She didn’t seem to doubt when I stuck out my tongue and gave her a temptative first lick, immediately groaning at the incomparable sweetness and diving in for more. She gasped and wrapped her thighs around my head, like she wanted to make sure I wouldn’t leave her hanging, but I was sure I’d never leave the space between her legs again.

Sweet, so sweet and wet. I’d spent so long imagining her taste on my tongue, both of her blood and of her juices, and now I knew that she truly was sweet all over. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to pretend I hadn’t tried the god’s ambrosia for the rest of my life, so I sincerely hoped this really meant she truly wanted me forever.

I lost myself to the activity of exploring her pussy with my tongue, eyes closed to better imprint the taste and the sounds she was emitting into the depths of my memory. I was so into my meal, the lapping sounds of her drenched cunt surrounding us and only adding to the powerful symphony of her moans, that when she came, covering my face in her release, I was taken by surprise.

“You know…” She started, as soon as she was able to catch a breath while I sucked the juices dripping from her. “This isn’t the type of eating I expected a vampire to be so good at.” That made me look up to meet her eyes, and the second I did so, taking in the humorous glint in them and the way she pressed her lips tightly together to contain the laughs that were certainly threatening to escape, I lost it.

“I don’t think I ever laughed so much during sex.” I nuzzled in her neck, before depositing a quick kiss on her pouty lips. Her tongue came out to lick them as soon as we parted, like she was chasing away her own taste that I knew was still present in my mouth.

“Then I don’t think you’ve been doing this the right way.” I felt her tiny hands pressing on my shoulders, and it took me a while to figure out she was trying to invert our positions. When I did get it, I allowed my torso to fall on the soft mattress by her side, hands immediately flying up to caress her body as she climbed on me.

“I want your cock in my mouth.”

I groaned as I heard those words, paired with the gentle rock of her wet cunt over my still clothed member. How could one resist such sensuous sin? But I had more pressing needs in the moment, and as I had to remind her, “The night is still young. As tempting as that is… No,  don’t look at me like that. Do you have any idea what you do to me, you little minx? I have to be inside of you now.”

Her eyes made it clear that she didn’t feel all that terrible about my denial, but still, she asked, “Later, then?” Chuckling, I brought her down to whisper in her ear, “ Believe me, we have all the time in the world. You’re not going to sleep anytime soon. I’ll keep you in this bed forever, if I have my way.”

I heard her suck in a breath and I took advantage of the brief moment of surprise that rendered her immobile to drag two fingers along her folds before curling them in. “Oh, wow. Now that is a sight.” Just the tone of perplexity in my voice had her clenching around me, and when I began to laugh yet again, she brace herself on my chest and groaned, “Are you going to fuck me or keep staring?”

I looked up to meet her eyes, making sure she was looking directly at me as I pulled my fingers out and licked them before grabbing a hold of my member and running it over her pussy. “Take a guess.”

The moment that we became fused in the corporeal sense, it became clear to me just how entwined our souls already were. There was no escaping our connection, not anymore. “Does this feel good,” I teased her as she released a particularly high moan, fingers gripping my shoulders tightly as she threw her head back and tried to keep riding me. I took this opportunity to nibble and nip at her jaw and neck, teasing myself with the feeling of her blood pumping right underneath my open mouth.

“Yes, yes,” she screamed, picking up her movements as I kept fucking myself up against her, too. “Deeper, harder, please, Henry!” The desperation in her voice had me roaring, and in a quick movement I had her under me again.

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” I whispered under my breath right when she grabbed a hold of my locks and pulled me to meet her lips again. “Are you ready?” I knew she was close by the way she was moaning, and all it took was for her eyes to meet mine so I could feel her clenching around me. “No falling asleep, remember? Or maybe you want me to keep going even if you do end up passing out.” It was just a joke, but her whine made it very clear that she didn’t mind the perspective.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’m right here. I’ll give you everything you want, I’ll be everything you need. For the rest of your life.”

“I know.”

[firelxdykatara]

You’re doing a LoK rewrite, correct? Would be really interested in hearing how you plan on fixing Suyin’s character and the Lin-Suyin conflict because……. oh boy. Man there’s a lot to unpack there. This is what happens when we don’t let Toph just raise her fucking kids for the sake of pushing a stupid as hell narrative about working women and single motherhood.

I am indeed!

In... you know, the way I'm doing most of my big potential projects, in that I have a folder with some documents that have plot notes and... some day I may actually get full, finished fics out of them (h2o AU is in there, as is my voltron!atla fusion AU, and uhhhh my book 3 atla rewrite, and a few other things), so... but I will say that the docs I have for my LoK rewrite so far amount to roughly 4.2k words of just Plot and Character Notes, which may some day turn into words of Story, hopefully.

ANYWAY, POINT IS: yes, this exists, and I have Many Many Thoughts.

Including how the Gaang kids would shake out! Cause I know I'm doing Zutara, and maybe Tokka???? Although I don't wanna just leave Suki out either... maybe a throuple??? Or Sukka having an amicable breakup before Sokka and Toph get together--maybe she already has Lin by then, and Sokka helps support her through the grief of losing Kanto???? Idk honestly, I haven't actually figured any of that out definitively yet except that Aang was perfectly happy to settle down with an Air Acolyte from one of the rebuilt temples because he grew up and out of his crush on Katara pretty easily once he hit puberty and matured a bit.

UHHH none of which is actually an answer to your question, because it's a valid one! Which is why I've been sitting on this a while (10 days I'm so sorry) bc I haven't made any solid decisions but I've been letting it percolate around my head a bit. And the more I think about it, the more I really like the Sukka -> Tokka idea (and I don't want to kill off Suki since the kids all deserve their awesome Kyoshi warrior auntie in their lives, and also I want a Sukka kid to be besties with Iara [zuko and katara's youngest] so maybe she gets with someone else after she and Sokka split? I could be talked into Ty Lee/Suki actually, the more I think about it....), but obviously having a stable father figure and a Toph who is... not what LoK made her out to be will dramatically change the Beifong family dynamic.

That said, I think I actually have a solution. (I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do.) Toph has Lin with Kanto--and he passes away when Lin is two or three, which is why she has very few memories of her father. (Although none of this 'she doesn't even know his name until she's 50+ cause Toph didn't tell her daughters about their fathers' bullshit.) Sokka is there for her through it all (all of the gaang is, of course, but you know that it sometimes just hits different when it's someone you're also starting to fall in love with, especially when there are older and much more deeply buried feelings there that are now resurfacing, because at least in my version Toph was deeply in love with Sokka when they were teenagers, but he was in love with Suki and she also loved Suki so she didn't want to mess up anything about their family or the group dynamics by making her feelings anyone else's problem), they fall in love, get married and have Suyin.

(Sokka may jokingly refer to it as a shotgun wedding, but the truth is he wanted to propose well before he found out she was pregnant, his attempts just kept getting messed up in increasingly comedic fashion.)

Throughout all of this, Republic City has been established, Sokka is Chancellor, Toph is something of a defacto police chief--mostly because, at the time, no one else was willing to volunteer, and she jokingly offered to whip the law enforcement, but unfortunately everyone else at the meeting took her seriously. However, she is also the founder of the probending league, and basically her feelings about law enforcement are complicated and she actively discouraged her kids from joining the force which is part of why Lin did. How else do you have a teen rebel phase with a parent like Toph? (Which, in this instance, means tough and firm but fair, with a 'you break it, it's up to you to fix it' attitude and very little desire to actually control her daughters and their behavior.)

Ah, but here's the rub.

Suyin is ten years old when Sokka dies, and Lin is sixteen. I'm not sure how he's killed--maybe by Yakone, to tie it into my plans for Amon and book 1. (Note that I'm not sure when the Yakone bloodbending trial happened in canon, but it doesn't matter. The timeline I'm gonna build will be completely different post-comet, and I'll eventually write it all down so that I can keep things straight.) Which would incidentally provide excellent means of having Katara have a very personal stake in the Amon conflict, and perhaps color the fight between him and Iara, but I'm getting off track. And I think Sokka being killed by Yakone, and Toph being unable to protect or save him, or deliver her own brand of justice to avenge him (because Aang is there to stop her and.... shit probably got ugly, I suspect she didn't talk to Aang for at least twenty years after Sokka's death--and this isn't to say I think Toph is particularly violent or murderous, but in that moment, she absolutely wanted to kill the man with her bare hands, and however much she may have regretted it afterwards, she took a very long time to forgive Aang for stopping her in the first place), is what results in Toph stepping down as police chief.

She didn't withdraw from her daughters or fuck off into the swamp or anything (words cannot express how much I hate that part of her canon history), but she did grieve for a very long time. Lin, meanwhile, felt like it was up to her to keep her family together, while also feeling a desperate need to... prove herself, I think. And because her mother was so adamant that she not join the police force, that's exactly what she does. I think Lin completely misread Toph's intentions, too, and believed that the discouragement was because her mother didn't think she had what it takes, when in reality I think Toph was scared of Lin losing herself in the job like she herself had begun to, and eventually coming up on something she couldn't change or fix and making the same mistakes she had.

(I think Toph and Lin have communication issues largely because they are both headstrong and willful, but where Toph thought she was giving her daughters the room they would need to make their own way, what Lin desperately craved was direction and she felt like that was something her mother simply couldn't understand.)

Suyin, on the other hand, fell in with a bad crowd like in canon. I think that what she desperately needed was attention, similar to Lin craving direction, and Toph was trying so hard not to be her own parents that she went a little too far in the other direction and Suyin began to feel like it didn't matter what she did, her mom wouldn't care, or get angry, or discipline her, or anything. Lin and Suyin butted heads a lot growing up, too, especially after Sokka's death, because Lin tried to rein in her sister's behavior and this was met with resistance and derision because Suyin felt like Lin was trying to be both mom and dad and she was neither but her big sister would never admit to being just as lost as she was and it made her furious.

So when Suyin is sixteen, and Lin is twenty-two and new to the force, The Big Rift happens. Lin catches Suyin and her gang, tries to apprehend her, gets a scar on her face in the ensuing conflict. But instead of abusing her power and sending her problem child off to her mother before fucking off to the swamp to avoid the consequences of her actions, Toph tries to actually fix things. Suyin cools her heels in prison for a while, because she was paralyzed by guilt at the time when she hurt her sister (a few inches lower and she could have slit her throat), and was still there when Lin's backup arrived.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh..... I'm so sorry I rambled for so long, BUT THE UPSHOT IS: I think Suyin learned a bit about culpability and taking responsibility for her own actions, Toph realized that her daughters had different needs than she did at their age (and I think a lot of the problem was that grief clouded her own ability to connect with her daughters, and in trying to not be her own parents she lost sight of how to be the parent her own daughters needed), and Lin, I think, had to realize that she had never fully processed the loss of not one but two fathers and had turned to her job in order to avoid actually confronting the grief that had overshadowed her childhood.

However, she did not forgive Suyin, at least not right away--and she wasn't forced or expected to. Suyin understood that she crossed a serious line, she took her lumps and did her time, and no one shamed Lin for her anger. I think, as a result, she had less reason to hold onto that bitterness, and perhaps by the time the story actually begins, she and Suyin are on much better terms, though I haven't worked it out exactly yet.

UHHH yeah I went on for days lmao. All of this is subject to change, too, depending on the needs of the story whenever I get around to actually writing it all down, BUT these are my initial thoughts, at least.

[the11tailed]

Fandom: The Magnus Archives, Star Wars The Clone Wars (2008), vague Dead by Daylight

Tags: @crc-general-orin, @crc-commodore-sana9

Reblogs are love ^-^

-

[Recorder click]

Statement of Tup Fett regarding an incident that occurred in a Junkyard when he was a child.

Audio recording by Tech Fett, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institution, London.

Statement begins

I never blamed my brothers for what happened, it was my fault in a way. I never should have gone to that junkyard. It was a dare. Just a dare. It was harmless. 

I was 7 at the time. My brother’s Fives and Echo had dared me to go into the weird junkyard out by our old house. It's not a bad junkyard. It's just a dump a few meters back of the houses. Someone started a rumor that dead bodies were found there, but many members of my family is in law enforcement and they stated that no bodies were ever found, so I never believed those tales. Fives and Echo had been charged with taking care of myself and my twin, Dogma as all other members of my family were busy. Fives and Echo are good brothers, don't misread this, but they were not babysitters.

It was obvious early on they did not know what they were doing. They took us to the Junkyard, as they went there for fun a lot. It was a short walk, and sooner than I'd like, we were at the entrance. I was a bit scared, but Dogma was petrified. He clung to Echo and refused to go in. He said the "shadow people" didn't like this place. The shadow people were Dogma's imaginary friends (yet on some days I wondered if they were really imaginary) and he had them since, well, he was four after our uncle...did some disgusting things to him. I won't go into detail, but you can guess what our uncle did. He started seeing these "shadow people" everywhere. Anyway, I'm getting off track.

Fives only laughed when Dogma mentioned the shadow people. He dared us to go in

"It'll be fun!" he had said this with such glee.

I wanted to prove to my big brother that I was brave. So I went in. It was like any junkyard I've ever seen. It was just stuff piled high with no real order to it. I wandered for a bit, not long. It was when I turned a corner did I see the gate. At first, I couldn't figure out why it put me on edge. It was pitch black, with vines from some plant coiling around it so tight it warped the metal. I could see strange flowers bloomed on various and random places on the gate. I was curious so I got closer. I wish I hadn't. I wished I had turned and walked back to Fives and Echo and didn't go through the gate. But I did.

I stepped through the gate and the world around me warped. I don't really know how to describe it. The world almost folded around me and I felt really hot and really cold at the same time. Then it unfolded and refolding again and again. When it stopped I was standing in a junkyard but it was different from the one I had been in. This one had broken down cars everywhere. The next thing I realized was that the sky had taken a red tint, casting the whole area in a red glow that sent shivers down my spine. I turned, wanting to go back, only to find the gate slammed shut. I ran to it, but it had no handle. I saw a lever, but when I pulled it, nothing happened. I was scared and so utterly alone. I reached into my pocket for my phone, I need to call for help, but found my pocket empty of any phone, lost I looked around. I spotted the generator. It was an old thing, just sitting there. It wasn't on and I got the odd feeling that I needed to fix it. I walked over to it. I didn't know what I hoped to do, I was 7 and sure as hell didn't know how to fix a generator, and yet I did. I worked on it for 2 and a half minutes and fixed it. I still have no idea how. When it clicked on I got this odd sense of dread. I got up and walked to one of the red lockers that was sitting near the generator as the sense of dread grew into terror. I opened it and climbed in, closing the door. The terror I felt made my heart hammer in my chest. And then I heard it. The thump thump of something heavy walking near. The smell of rotting flesh was so strong I nearly gagged. I knew the smell of rotting flesh anywhere. My Grandpappy Jaster owned a farm, and one time I had found a dead cow that had been missing for days. She had wandered up into a wooded area and died. I found her and vaguely remember losing my lunch and crying into my older brother, Fox's, shoulder. Grandpappy did feel real bad about that, even though it was not his fault.

I heard a snarl of rage before the heavy footfalls got quieter and quieter. The sense of fear and dread went with it. Once I could no longer feel the dread, I climbed out of the locker and hurried off in the opposite direction of the footfalls.

I have no idea how long I ran. It was a while before I ran into anyone. I mean literally, I ran right into someone. A man in his 20's wearing a suit, now torn, ripped, muddy, and bloody. He had black hair and green eyes and I would later learn his name was Anthony. Anthony looked horrified to see me. I was confused back then, but I know why now. He was scared because I was a seven-year-old kid put in a demented game with a ruthless killer, but I'm getting ahead of my self. Anthony helped me up and hurried me along. I was went with him, too scared not to. He led me to another generator.

"I'm guessing you got the 3rd generator," he said and I just nodded.

"We just need two more and then we are free," he said that with such a hopeful tone.

There was another person with us, a young woman named Sarah. She was a young woman, maybe 19 or 20 with short, dyed pink hair and a few piercings. Her clothes were tattered and bloody and I noted she had a bandaged wrapped around her shoulder, yet I could see no wound. She was already working on the gen. Myself and Anthony knelt and helped her. Soon, with a rumbling click, the gen turned on. Then the dread crept in. I looked around desperately for a locker, but found none. Anthony grabbed me and dragged me behind a stone wall. There was a tree near us and I had to hold in a gag at the scent of rotten meat wafted from the crow slung up on the bark of the tree, stomach open. Anthony put his finger to his lips and we sat there crouched. The dread turned into terror and I heard the footsteps. thump thump. Loud and commanding. I was scared, far more scared than I had ever been in my life. I was shaking and Anthony knew that. He placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to console me. Then I saw Sarah run and I got the first look at the monster. It was humanoid, an arm covered in strange, boil like spots. I think the most horrifying part was it's face. It's flesh there was pulled, I have no idea how else to explain it. There were staples on various parts of it's body. It was terrifying. It held a chainsaw in one hand and a hammer in the other and it ran after Sarah. It activated it's chainsaw and I heard it whir and then the squelch of it hitting flesh. I heard Sarah scream, a sound so raw and so painful I wanted to cry. I think I was. I watched as it threw Sarah over it's shoulder. It carried her to a hook standing in the field. It was nothing special, but I found it odd that the hook was just there, swaying ever so slightly in the wind. Then, it threw Sarah onto the hook and she screamed again. He watched her gag for a second before limping off and vanishing into the tall grass. I tugged at Anthony's sleeve

"Shouldn't we help her?" I had asked through tears but Anthony shook his head

"Death hook" was all he said

Sure enough, long spider like limps emerged from the hook and impaled her. I watched in horror as they lifted Sarah's body up as more spider-like limbs descended down and grabbed her body and lifted her up into the void above. Once her body was gone, the limbs emerging from the hook, knocked the hook off and onto the ground. I let out a chocked sob as the realization hit me. I had just watched a person die.

"C'mon kid," Anthony had said and ushered me along.

I followed numbly, I was in shock, but the gravity of our situation shook me out of it quick. We found the last gen quick. We worked on it fast, but slow enough as to not make mistakes.

"I have a kid around your age," said Anthony, smiling at me, "Once I get out of here I plan to hug them and remind them how much I love them. You got any family,"

I nodded,

"Lot's of big brothers, a dad," I sniffled, "How does time pass?"

"I've been here a few minutes, what's the date,"

"the first of august, 2009," I responded and he looked pale

"No, it's-it's the second of January," I shook my head at that and we lapsed into silence. The dread came just as the gen clicked on. We both shot up, but by that time the dread was terror. It was here. Anthony ran at it and tried to draw it away from me, but it didn't work. I ran as it chased me, fear surging through my limbs, but I was seven, I wasn't fast enough. Do you know what it feels like to be slammed in the back with a chainsaw? I can't even begin to describe the pain. It hurt worse than any injury I had ever gotten and I screamed. Next thing I knew, I was being carried over it's shoulder. It was taking me to an open field. There were two hooks. Both faced each other. He threw me on one. The pain from that was worse than the chainsaw as the metal hook ripped through soft flesh and muscles and threw bone and I screamed a blood curdling scream. I was only there for a moment when I heard a strange noise. The gate had been opened. A sense of panic hit me. Had Anthony left me to die. But then I heard the whir of a chainsaw and a cry. It hooked Anthony right in front of me. He gave me a small smile as the creature ambled off.

"Listen," he had said, "Gates open, straight ahead, hurl yourself off the hook and run, don't stop, don't try to get me, I'm on death hook, Just run,"

"How?" I cried in desperation.

"Throw yourself off the hook," he said before the limbs stabbed him and dragged him away.

I wanted to cry, but it would have to wait. I took a deep breath and threw myself forward and off the hook. There was an explosion of pain, but I didn't register it. I ran. Ran as fast as I could. I saw the gate, wide open and tore forward. The whir of the chainsaw came from behind me and I got the idea to bob and weave. I did and it worked. I knocked over a pallet with strength I didn't even know I had and tore to the gate. I ran threw the gate out without stopping. Like before, the world folded in on me and repeated until, it stopped. I was back in the junkyard, no broken cars in sight and a soft blue of the sky almost made me sob. Warm blood trickled down and, to my horror, I realized I was still hurt. I reached into my pocket and was greeted with my phone. I called the first number I could think of. 911. I just said I was hurt in the Junkyard, fell and hurt my shoulder and that I need help and fast. The operator was a nice lady, helped keep me calm. The fire and rescue arrived fast and I felt happiness when the words 212 came into view along with squad car 1010. I wanted to cry as I ran towards them. I watched Helix run and catch me and I collapsed into my cousin's arms.

"Tup?" he had sounded so horrified and I guess he had the right to.

Fox rushed over and froze when he saw me. Helix was treating me as fast as he could as Fox knelt beside me and cupped by face with his hand. He told me it was all okay now, and that I was safe. I knew I was.

I woke up in the hospital three days later. I learned that I had been missing for almost an entire month. Fives and Echo felt so guilty, blamed themselves, but I could never blame them. Never.

-

Statement ends.

Another victim of the Entity's twisted games, and my own cousin. I remember the scramble for search parties when Tup went missing, but I still lived with my abusive mom, so my brother's and I were unable to search for Tup, who had been a close friend in high school for me. After this, Tup went through a lot of therapy, but he still struggles. He informed me one day, years ago, that he too now sees the shadow people. I've seen the shadow people too. All my brother's have. They are always there, just watching us.

As for follow up, there is not much we can do. The entity exists in a realm outside of ours and we have no way of stopping it or telling who it's next victim will be.

So another dead end, but not matter. Unfortunately, most of the files in the archives have statements made by members of my family. A lot mention a horrible tragedy and the sudden appearance of these shadow people. I wish to look into them, but my own shadow people have grow restless, usually that means-

[Static on recorder]

Yes, I know

[Static]

Yes

[Static]

Fine

End recording

[Recorder click]

[kingofthewilderwest]

This hasn’t been a good year for me first I was stalked then I lost someone who I thought was a friend because my mental health issues caused me to impulsively lash out at people I been apologizing and apologizing they refuse to listen to me all they told me was get outside help. The thing is I was there for them when they needed me but when I needed them they abandon me I am autistic and have trouble regulating my emotions I explained that to them when they told me that I keep lashing out at people even after I apologize for it. :( what should I do? Should I just just keep spamming how sorry I am and that I will keep my mouth shut and not lash out at people anymore I just want them to like me again I don’t like lashing out at people I have no control over that why can’t they understand? How many times do I need to cry in their inbox until they realize how sorry I am and that this time I won’t lash out impulsively.

Hello, friend. <3 I'm really sorry for the struggle and pain you are going through. That's tough. My heart reaches out for you. I was in an extremely similar experience once (I'll talk about the experience and results below), so I both care about your situation, and I hope my message can help you with your choices moving forward. My phrasing might sound blunt, but every word is written with love, and I will give comfort through the end, so bear with me. Sorry that I suck at brief. XD

From the way you’ve described your situation, you’ve already been messaging friend(s) repeatedly explaining your actions, giving apologies, etc. My answer is under the assumption you’ve been sending repeated messages. Here’s the unfortunate kicker.

You need to stop messaging them. Period.

If you want them to feel better and feel better about you, you need to give them space for a decently long period of time without breaking that silence once, it doesn’t matter if your desired topic is helpfully explaining how you tick, apologizing, or talking about something entirely unrelated to the drama.

I know that's probably the hardest thing to do. I know for me, when I was in a situation like this, every fiber of my being *SCREAMED* at me to try to make things right by messaging again. I was so terrified I couldn’t leave it alone. I understand how scary it can be for someone to not listen to your apology. I understand the drive to get someone to understand your circumstance for why you messed up. I understand the overpowering pressure of guilt for having done something wrong and the itch to keep acting until I make it right. But you can't make it right by messaging someone repeatedly.

While your intent is reparation, your result is harassment. I'm so sorry to say this, but if you’re messaging like that, you are continuing to inflict pain and make matters worse because your constant messaging gives them no relief. It’s like constantly picking a scab to make it bleed again rather than letting it heal without touching it. If you pick that scab too much, you’ll lose more blood and you’ll get a scar. Lots of people, after being hurt, need time to process their emotions before they can be comfortable resuming a chill conversation. So long as you keep acting like this, they aren't going to want to listen to you, and your actions are going to make them wish they weren't around you. They’ll see you in a worse light because if you can’t give them time and space to heal themselves and you can’t stop fixating on past events, then they see that you’re not handling the situation well.

Now. If you do talk to them again, after that *LONG* break, there are several things you have to do. Ask if it’s okay to talk first and be clear it’ll be a one-time event. Be rational, be calm, be objective, accept responsibility for yourself without trashing yourself or sounding desperate for their response, and make sure you acknowledge their feelings and experiences as much as your own. Accept responsibility for yourself in your words. Make sure you listen to them, too, and respect their thoughts. 

I know that’s hard to do. I can get scared, tongue-tied, and emotional in conversations like this. The way I get around that is writing down what I’m going to say beforehand. That way, I can spend several days carefully tweaking my words so they’re optimally diplomatic (and have someone else check me if I need a second perspective). Now I have a script I can follow that can prevent me from tumbling into babbling emotion. “I’m sorry, I’ll keep my mouth shut, I just want you to like me again” will turn more people away, unfortunately. People don’t trust that because it sounds like you don’t have control of yourself, which makes them think more bad things could happen. Level-headed but kind discussion of the issue is essential; it shows you are *capable* of handling the situation. Showing capability helps engender trust. Also, please make it clear to your friend(s) that once this convo is done, the goal is to move on.

Note that your friend can say “no” if you ask to talk. And that’s okay. If they say “no,” leave it at “no,” and don’t try to get a “yes.” Your friend can still say “no” to points you make during your conversation. Those aren’t the words you want to hear but you have to accept them if they come. Stay humble. Do not try to get them to fully be in sync with you because that may be impossible and only hurt everyone more. All you can do is present yourself at your best; after that, it is their choice how they respond, and their responses must be accepted. If they are bitches, that’s on them, and you’re better off not being friends with shitty-ass uncaring bitches. If they choose not to be friends with you for understandable reasons, it hurts, but it’s valid; we do not have to be friends with every person we meet, even if they’re cool. And if they choose to forgive you, which they could too, then you guys have a basis to move forward again without reopening cans of worms. I do want to reassure you: I’ve had plenty of conversations like this go well and friendships get repaired. <3 It can be done.

Now. You said you feel your friends aren’t helping you at your time of need. I understand the pain of supporting a friend but the friend doesn’t reciprocate at the time I need them most. This was hard for me to learn, but: a friend is not obligated to help you. Yes, good friends will help when they can. Yes, if you’re only helping them and they’re nevvvvvvver helping you, that’s a one-sided relationship and that’s a bust. But healthy relationships also have boundaries and “no”s. It’s not a contractual obligation to help a friend through everything. Plus, not everyone has the skillset to help you for every need. Friends who are not used to neurodivergence might not know how to handle neurodivergent-specific challenges (that’s what I’ve experienced with my own support networks). You can explain it and hopefully they’ll get better about understanding how you tick, though. There’s even types of friends who understand how you tick but still not want to be around it, and sometimes that’s because they have to protect their own health. They can understand you lash out but still need to leave to heal themselves because lashing out hurts them, and they don’t have the energy or emotions to help or listen to you right after. They have enough on their plate trying to keep themselves going without assisting someone else too. Those things can happen. You may find out what type of friends yours are later.

And I know it’s really hard to regulate emotions... I’m saying this as someone who had extreme issues regulating my emotions due to neurodivergence and mental illness, albeit of different kinds... but ultimately mental health is an explanation, not an excuse, and you are still responsible for the results when you are cognizant enough to act well enough. You are valid for being autistic and that is not a problem, that is who you are period, and if they don’t respect that, that’s their issue. Explaining why you act like you do is a first step. It’s good to communicate and I think it’s good you want to your friends to know why it’s hard. But you do have to work at getting better with your treatment of people, too. Sometimes we do things outside of our control. Sometimes these will never be in our control. But some things will be in our control. Part of our responsibility as a friend is to not just admit we hurt someone in the past when we’re at our worst and least controllable, but make an effort, as we can, to prevent these things in the future, as we can. Figure out prevention tactics. Figure out ways your friends can be equipped and prepared if something happens. Find professionals who can help you with emotional regulation. And so forth.

Your friends do have a point about getting outside help. I love supporting my friends and helping them through emotionally dark times, but sometimes a friend’s mental health struggles are out of my abilities and I can’t be expected to be the one to handle it. I cannot help my friend with heart surgery because I am not a heart surgeon; likewise, sometimes I can’t help my friends with mental illness ailments because I am not a professional psychologist. If it is within your budget, this may be a valuable resource for you that will help you, your friends, and more.

If you’re anything like I was, what I said may make you want to go into another round of apologizing, but before you do that (you shouldn't! you can't!!!!), I want to explain what happened to me. This involves me talking about the worst period of my life, the worst mistakes I ever made, and the worst legacy I'll have to contend with. I haven't talked about it on tumblr because I haven't wanted people to misread me or judge me, but the truth is, those old mistakes are a defining characteristic of my everyday life because of how thoroughly I fucked up and hurt someone else by my desire to "make things right."

I was eighteen and sharing a dorm room with my high school significant other. We broke up several months into the school year. At first things were okay, but then our friendship started to slide. We both did foolish things and wrongdoings against each other. The result was my ex needed breathing space to heal, whereas I felt I needed to heal by coming closer to them. As you can see, these are opposites, and it... didn’t work. It resulted in me pestering them and them wanting to get further from me.

I was also suicidal at the time. I had undiagnosed ADHD and rejection sensitive dysphoria and maybe more, and all that put me in the worst psychological state of my life. My emotions were more powerful than I could control. I had no coping mechanisms yet. My diary entries sometimes don’t sound... sane... from that time period. Being suicidal, I begged my ex for help, and my ex said “no”. My ex was rude and cold (understandable... hard to be polite when you’re stressed), but still, she had a right to say “no.” No one is obligated to do anything, but I was extremely emotional at her denial. Terrified for my life, I tried telling my ex that I had helped HER through HER problems when SHE was depressed, why the fuck wouldn’t she help me with my low point? I felt like she abandoned me and I told her so. I was intending to suggest she was breaking a promise and being an uncaring, unfaithful friend... but my words came out sounding like I was guilt tripping. My friend felt emotionally abused, forced into a situation where someone was threatening their life if she didn’t do what I said.

That’s a lot of pressure on someone, a roommate screaming at her that she had to do X or someone would die. It’s a cruel thing to shove someone into. I did that. I did it accidentally, my only intentions were making amends and saving my life, but I’m still 200% responsible for the results. It destroyed her psychologically, and ten years later, I don’t think she’s fully recovered.

When I recovered from the worst of my mental illness lapse, I felt sick to my stomach about how much my emotional responses harmed her. Thus began my rounds of apologizing. At first she coldly “tolerated” it, but I couldn’t leave it alone because it didn’t feel like closure. She outright told me she would never forgive me and that made me more desperate. About once every six months for the next three years, I tried talking to her. She felt harassed. She increasingly hated me. Soon, she thought I was stalking her, and sent the start of what could’ve become legal action against me. One time, I tried talking to her about something entirely unrelated (I was trying to save a friend who was having panic attacks and my ex was unknowingly responsible for the panic attacks), I panicked, I grabbed her arm, she threatened to call the police on me, had the teacher drive her home from class, and the next thing I knew, we were both in the university’s Office of Student Conduct. Oof.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

For the rest of my life, I will have to contend with the fact I fucked up the person I loved the most, and that the best thing I could ever do to help her was... to... leave... her... be.

If I had let my friend breathe after my first apology, if I had given my friend space to process through her hurt emotions until she no longer felt hurt, we might have been able to rekindle a friendship. But I never gave her the time to heal. I never respected her “no, stop talking to me.” My apologies were intended to make her feel better because I knew I was hurting her, my apologies were intending to say “I’ll never hurt you again!” But instead I kept digging a deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper hole.

I realize this is a dismal story. I don’t want to scare you. I want you to read this private story of my pained heart to understand what happens when I let desperation do all the talking. I want to share it to show how much I care for your situation. And I want you to understand that... after I learned taking a step back... I had radically better results with the friends I got into conflicts with. It took a ton of effort and work to retrain my conduct, but it worked, and I’ve found stabler and happier and relatively drama-free relationships. And if I fuck up for some reason mental-health-wise, it’s usually a single conversation and done to get us back on track.

I fuck up, but I’ll never fuck up like that again, never ever EVER, nowhere CLOSE. And that’s a... happy ending in its own right, yeah?

I do believe in you. I believe that not every story has to end like the one between my ex and me. I want to give you that hope. I believe you have a good heart and you definitely want things better. You wouldn’t have messaged me (and I believe... others... on tumblr?) if this didn’t matter to you. And anyone who wants to do something about a problem has the starting kernel of Betterness happening. I believe you can find more peace. Maybe it won’t come right away and maybe there’ll be rocky points, but life can become better, relationships can become better. There are ways, even with mental health struggles, to find that comfortable equilibrium again.

I wish you the best, friend. Take care. <3 Rooting for you. I apologize if any of my words ended up coming out wrong accidentally. I really do hope you find some relief in this situation. <3