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darkestescapes · 1 year

Note

Saw your ask is open. Can I request you a jk fic where he cheated on you so you tried to leave him but he's adamant to keep you

My first anon ask! Woo-hoo!! 🖤 Hope you like it. Since I don't have a lot to go on I just used my imagination.

Warnings: Yan!JK x Fem! Reader. Toxic toxic toxic. But we love toxic JK don't we ;). JK locked reader in the house. Forced proximity? Implied fucking at the end, nothing specific. I'm not someone who likes the idea of cheating (being cheated on myself) but it's JK so.

"WHAT THE FUCK JK" you yell in annoyance after seeing him put your clothes back into the closet that you'd thrown into the first suitcase you could find.

"You're not going anywhere" he says calmly. He continues to put your clothes back while you stand in front of the bathroom door fuming at this man who vowed to love you forever.

"Fine then" you say and grab your shoes and make a run to the door. JK huffs in annoyance and puts the suitcase away, this time somewhere you won't find it easily.

You half wear your shoes and try entering the pass code of the door, try pulling the door, try kicking it but nothing works. Damn that sly sexy fucker.

Groaning in anger you sit on the ground and put your head in your hands.

"I'm sorry" JK leans his forehead on your shoulder. You laugh bitterly and remove your shoes and jacket and throw them on the ground with as much force as you can muster.

"I'm sorry? Is that the best you can come up with? What exactly are you sorry for Koo? Locking me inside this house? Or throwing my things back into place without asking me? Or for cheating on me? I left everything and everyone for you, because you're all that needed and you'd convinced me so well and I blindly followed you everywhere like a lost puppy. But I guess you weren't just happy with me were you?"

"No baby it's not like that" he says coming closer to you and grabbing your wrists in his fingers. You place your palms on his stomach and try to push him away but he just keeps pulling you closer till he's hugging you tightly. "She just came onto me, I ignored her as much as I could reall-"

"So she just happened to come onto your dick huh" you say sadly.

"I'm sorry, baby I truly am. I love you too much I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I only love you, I'll never leave you again to go out with my stupid friends. I'll stop talking to them too I promise. I love you. Let me show you how much I do" he whispers the last part in your ear.

You close your eyes and feel his hand circle you waist, the other coming to move your face to give him access to your throat. God you love it when he holds you close and kisses you all over.

Frankly speaking you aren't surprised someone tried something with JK, what did shock you was that he actually went along with it. God it makes your blood boil to think someone even had the guts to take him from you.

Grabbing his cheeks with your palms and rising to your feet you smash your lips on to his. If you want him to forget that bitch, you gotta fuck him like your life depends on it.

Pushing him on the couch you remove your top and straddle his lap. Gently moving his hair away from his face you lick your lips and kiss him again and then you kiss his neck and his chest and his abs and fuck him so good neither of you want to stop till you physically cannot fuck anymore.

#yandere #yandere reader #male yandere #yandere male x reader #jungkook smut #yandere bts #jungkook brainrot #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook smut #toxic relationship

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irlcats-bracket · 1 year

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FORMS ARE CLOSED

wow jeez that was a long time. i am typing this a little earlier because phone keyboards are evil and I'll probs be a bit busy but rn i have 682 submissions (haha lizards)

i did not expect this bracket to get big. i thought i will have like a hundred submissions will choose some funny cats and have a classic 64 bracket. well i got somewhere around 250 subs in one day. and as i’ve been reading your descriptions of your cats in the first hours i realized just how important they are to you. i can’t leave any cat out.

THEREFORE

ALL REAL CATS (sorry milton i don’t have proof that you existed) WILL ENTER THE BRACKET

yes all 600+. some of you guessed this already but i had to ignore you all

here’s how this will work. right now i am going through cat submissions. i write down every cat. i check every link. i work on descriptions

by work btw i mean that i edit “I” and “my” to “submitter” and “their”. it feels wrong to cut out anything you wanted to say about your cats. which btw means that there will be mentions of cats that already has died and the description will explicitly say that they did. they will be tagged with de/ath ment tw

of course i take more liberty with famous cats. and also any cat submitted more than once cuz just because i allowed it doesn’t mean i won’t be poking fun at it

this is all done for two reasons. first, i will have the cats easily accessible and that will allow me to make polls faster. second, i will get the exact number of cats and they all will get their own number.

after i will have that exact number i will start making polls. we will have 16 brackets with approximately 32 cats each. there will have to be 3-ways in the first rounds that i will evenly distribute between all the brackets. basically we will just have 16 small tournaments separately

AND THEN i will take all the winners and put them in the final, seventeenth bracket.

which cat will go in which bracket will be decided by a number generator so that the cats that has been entered the first day and literally today will have equal chances to get shown earlier. because that’s still the main point. show cats look at cats

please remember that harrassing others is not the way to go. if i catch you doing that i’ll ban you

#orcatnisation #i will try to finish cat sorting in a week but no prommies

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godesssiri · 1 year

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Décor items I am constantly looking for in thrift stores:

I watch a lot of Youtubers who either thrift for a living or do a lot DIY décor content. They all have the most gorgeous homes, and their homes are 90% thrifted. I have a gorgeous home and it’s easier for me to point out the things in my home that I’ve actually bought new rather than try point out all the things I’ve thrifted. Sometimes friends or family will ask where I got something and I won’t bother to answer I’ll just look at them, and they'll realize duh – stupid question. I thrifted it, have you even met me?

I wanted to give you all a list of things I am ALWAYS looking for, things I will browse through in every thrift store and will pick up even if I don’t know exactly how I’m going to use it, I just know I can use it somewhere.

Frames. OMG Frames! Never buy them new! I have bought some of the ugliest framed crap you wouldn’t believe. But the frame was great. I bought my brother a portrait of a little girl that I’m pretty sure is haunted, but the frame was stunning antique oak that goes perfectly with his style and the creepy little girl could be easily removed - and it was so cheap, probably because the little girl was so creepy. If you want to frame something, go to the art section of the thrift store and ignore what’s in the frames, just look at the frames themselves. Chances are you will either find something that’s perfect as is or that just needs a bit of spray paint to make it perfect. I will always look through the frames even if I don’t have anything that needs framing. I have a stash of great frames on the highest shelf in my wardrobe, I don’t have use for them yet, but I know as soon as I want to frame something I can just go shop my stash and find something perfect

Plant pots. I will pick up new ones when I see a gorgeous one that’s in my price range but 90% of my plant pots are thrifted. The thing is you can put a plant in ANY vessel if you get creative. And you do find a lot of actual planters at thrift stores, but the good ones go quick, so you have to be ready to grab when you see a nice one. I have a huge collection of 80s post-modern pastel ceramic pots and guess what’s come into fashion in the last couple of years? 80s style post-modern pastel stuff. I’ve also found gorgeous Victorian jardinieres in thrift stores that have snuck past the people doing the pricing because they’re transferware and they don’t realize that transferware can be that old. You also come across piles of modern generic cover pots, you know the ones for the gift plants you see at the supermarket or florist or hardware store? People get gifted a plant in one of these generic pots, they either kill the plant or it thrives and needs to be re-potted, and they send the gift pot off to the thrift store. You can give these a makeover with a paint pen, or one of my favorite things to do with them is hot glue them to a glass candle holder with a wide stable base so you end up with a goblet look – it instantly both literally and figuratively elevates them.

Curios and oddities. I’m a collector of curios and oddities and let me tell you, if you are going to a specialist store that stuff is pricey. But if you scour thrift stores and pick up any weird thing you come across you can quickly build up a collection of the strange and unusual that will delight any weird loving freak. But even if you don’t love the things that edge on creepy like I do then still keep an eye out for things that are a bit quirky, a bit odd. Every home needs something that’s a bit left of normal.

Trays. I have a variety of trays that I have on various surfaces to corral small things, one on my dresser for lotions and potions, one beside my sink for the dishwash and scrub brush etc, one on the side table next to my couch to hold all the little bits I want to be able to access easily but they look messy scattered across the table. I can’t pass up a good tray, I bought a nice solid brass one earlier this week with no idea what I was going to do with it, I bought it home and it’s perfect for my coffee table to hold my coasters and a little posy vase of flowers and a pretty bowl to hold the jewellery and hair clips I will inevitably discard there. A good tray can take a random assortment of practical items from stressful mess to pleasingly organized in seconds. They’re another thing that you constantly come across in thrift stores and also something that’s easy to do a thrift flip on if you can’t find one that fits your aesthetic.

Candle holders. There are soooooooooooo many candle holders of every description at the thrift store. Whatever your style you will find something. I actually rarely use them for candles, I like to buy ones meant for chunky candles and use them as plant stands to elevate small pots. Or get tall beautifully shaped candlesticks and display shells or crystal spheres or air plants on top. Some of them are so sculptural and beautiful they look great just on their own. They’re a fantastic display item whether you use them for their intended purpose or not. And if you like the Dark Academia aesthetic that is everywhere right now they are your best friend. I have never walked into a thrift store and not stumbled across a candle holder of some description – never.

Decorative storage. When I want to increase my storage by storing stuff out in the open in a place people will see, I look for vintage wooden boxes, cool old suitcases, pretty pottery canisters, interesting vintage baskets. When you wander around the thrift store looking for things you can put stuff in, a whole world of pretty possibilities opens up. Wooden boxes are my catnip, I have so many but will never pass one up if I like it. And if it’s an old cigar box with pretty graphics and peeling labels then my heart goes pitty-pat. Pretty canisters you can have on your bench means you have more space in your cupboards to hide the ugly practical stuff. I have a gorgeous old leather briefcase that holds important documents and small things I Do Not Want To Loose, I have ADHD and I'm more likely to remember where my birth certificate or great-grandad's pocket watch are if I keep it them in something I actually like looking at.

Glass display items. I love to display stuff beneath/behind glass because dust. Glass domes and glass display boxes and shadowbox frames are all either A) freaking expensive or B) hard to find or C) both. I’m always thrifting display items that I can rip out whatever is currently in there to display my own stuff. I’ve bought 6 Anniversary Clocks for their glass domes and brass bases; I usually get ones that the clock itself is plastic and it’s super easy to take it apart with a screwdriver. I’m also constantly buying the ugliest shit in shadow-box frames because it’s usually easy enough to open up the frame and get the ugly crap out – dear lord the crap they put in shadowboxes in the 90s. I will buy ugly souvenir stuff for their glass display boxes and will break the glue holding them closed and pull out the tourist tat. I have a couple of glass globes that have come with ugly artificial flowers in them and they’re usually cheap because the flowers are so ugly, but it’s easy enough to open them up and clean them out. Glass trinket boxes are another awesome display item, and there’s been a trend for them in recent years so they’re turning up more and more often, they’re not very practical for everyday storage because you can see everything in them and they look messy, but if you’re only using them to hold carefully arranged pretty things then they look amazing.

Bases, plinths, pedestals. I mentioned I buy pillar candle holders to elevate plant pots but basically, I’m always on the lookout for stuff I can put stuff on top of for display. I’ll buy any candle holder I can put something on top of, any wooden box that can be used to elevate stuff, cake stands don’t just have to be used for cake. Onyx ashtrays are perfect for lifting things a little and if that something has a slightly curved bottom, like a large seashell or a crystal geode, then sitting it in the depression of the ashtray stabilizes it, or if you need a flat surface flip the ashtray over and use the bottom as the top. If you’re lucky, you’ll come across bases actually meant for décor and they always make things look just that little bit classier. Displays always look better when you vary the heights of objects so I’m constantly looking for things to lift my pretties and it all looks so much more interesting when you use an assortment of vintage bases.

Vases. I have a vase problem, I know I have a vase problem, I do not care that I have a vase problem. I mean 16 on one shelf isn’t too many right? I promise it’s a huge shelf with lots of space for them. There are so many beautiful ones out there. So many that are gorgeously hand painted. So many interesting shapes and colors. So many that have been carefully looked after and passed down through generations but have gone to someone who it’s not to their tastes so they can now be your treasured antiques. So many that are modern, mass produced and worthless but ripe for a thrift flip to fit you exact style.

Books. Before anyone @s me about people who use books just as décor, there are good reasons to use some books purely as décor. I collect antique books, specifically natural history ones but I’ll consider any reference book with beautiful covers and illustrations. Most of these books are now inaccurate, I’ve got books that talk about extinct species in the present tense, Atlas’ that were produced between the 2 world wars that are not even in spitting distance of accurate anymore, archaeology books with laughable theories. Also, a lot of my books are fragile, there’s some I barely dare to open because pages are falling out and the binding is perished or the cover is loose, the safest place for them is sitting on a shelf just looking pretty. I also collect children’s classics purely out of nostalgia, I make it my mission to find the prettiest and/or oldest editions I can get my hands on. I doubt I’m going to sit down and re-read the Pollyanna books or the Little Women series but seeing them on my shelf takes me back to those pre-teen days devouring every classic I could get my hands on, mostly in paperback form because those books have been re-printed again and again. If a book is lovely but has no real value as a book anymore either because it’s inaccurate or too fragile, or if it’s had a million re-prints, why not have it as décor? Décor is meant to give a home a feeling and what inspires more feelings than books?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

#thrifting #thrift shopping #eco home #fuck capitalism #sustainability #anti capitalism #reduce reuse recycle #solarpunk

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obsessedwithegos · 2 years

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What type of whumper is Kira? Does it like to get close with their victims, getting physical and intimate? Or is it distant, only acknowledging Whumpee exists when it wants to torture them, acting like Whumpee could die any second and it wouldn't care?

Also, Kira's favorite biting/blood drinking positions?

(sorry about all these I'm just. Very invested in vampire Whumper Kira

No need to apologize I love answering questions!!! I'm glad you're so invested in it! :DDD

Over all Kira somewhat ignores their whumpee, really only paying attention to them if they need to take care of their whumpee, feed, or want to torment them! Sometimes they'll pay their whumpee extra attention but that's only if they're getting themself and whumpee ready to visit their family!

Pre!Whumping Kira was a lot more on top of things. Getting to know it's whumpee to weaponize that knowledge against them, tormenting whumpee's family as well if they have any (i.e. sending fingers in the mail, photo graphs with dates to show they're still alive, etc etc), but it also didn't really take care of it's whumpees like Post!Escape Kira does! If pre!whumping kira's whumpee died, it wouldn't feel too bad and just go get a new whumpee.

Post!Escape Kira actively tries to keep their whumpee alive! Their goals with whumpees are to actively traumatize them as much as they can and then let them go so they can live with similar trauma that they are! Essentially forcing their whumpees to walk in the same shoes that they did just for much much shorter periods of time!

Post Escape Kira's mindset is that people don't understand what they went through, so to make them understand is to make them go through the same thing! :> Even then there's still a disconnect that I somewhat explored with the idea of them accidentally kidnapping Emil!

Emil and Kira were friends during their captivities, when Emil escaped Tael he couldn't go to Key's house to rescue Kira and that guilt ate away at him. So in the AU of Kira capturing Emil, he believes it's a type of revenge for leaving it behind and his pleas for mercy just piss Kira off so much that it just uses him as a punching bag despite knowing that he understands their trauma because he went through the same thing with him.

Post Escape Kira wants sympathy but hates it when people express it towards it. It does want people to understand, the thought of someone actively trying to emphasize with it angers it.

It needs kindness but views kindness as weakness that only gets you hurt, and thus hurts those that try to give it kindness. It's a vicious and unhealthy cycle that prevents Kira from being able to do any proper healing of it's own that it so desperately needs.

Kira's favorite place to bite is the back of the neck! Somewhere easy for whumpee to hide if they have longer hair but a position that's uncomfortable to be in for long.

It's also a place that a lot of people end up touching without thinking too much of it and even putting hair up into pony tails can cause distressing memories of hair being pulled out of the way :)

If the whumpee is able to scar then it's also not an obvious scar, and if it is it can easily cause people to whisper behind whumpee's back about it!

It's not their favorite for any ease of access reason, it's their favorite for causing future distress without them even being there!

general: @emmettnet @thebluejaysworld

kira's story: @whumpsday

#owe answers #anonymous #kira tag #i popped OFF about post escape kira's mindset because I honestly love it #whump #whump tag #vampire whump #whumper turned whumpee #whumpee turned whumper #whumperee #ask to tag #prompted writing tag #bc of popping off about kira's mindset :>

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edwardgdunn · 6 months

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The Masks We Wear – In Two Acts

Act 1

I walked into the gleaming glass high-rise on 44th Street in Manhattan and grabbed the elevator to the 82 floor. I was shown into a conference room by the receptionist. Seated around a black walnut table that probably had its own zip code were six men. “Keep your seats gentlemen,” I said. They ignored me and the obligatory glad handing began. Every last one of them were dressed in Armani suits and Italian shoes with names I could not, nor wanted to know how to pronounce. I did, however, chuckle to myself when I noticed that apparently none of them would be caught dead wearing the watch of the commoner, a Rolex. It was all Patek Phillipe, Piaget, and Cartier. The whole scene was a study in ego run amok. The only man in the room who didn’t look like a peacock in a hoot dash was my business partner and life-long friend, McKenna Chevalier (Mac) who had traveled with me.

I was there to perform due diligence on their company. If the process went well, Mac and I were considering investing a substantial sum of money to help them expand their operations nationwide. During the several hour meeting, the men were friendly, exceedingly polite, and accommodating to a fault. Of course they were. They needed money. I had access to it.

We wrapped up the first of three days of scheduled meetings. The CEO suggested we make the short 4-block walk to his favorite watering hole and restaurant. Off we went – Mac, me, the peacocks.

Act 2

A stylish and beautiful young woman greeted everyone warmly, most by name. She led us to a private dining room and the tuxedo clad waiters were hovering within seconds. Then the manager appeared.

“Good evening gentlemen, may I start you off with cocktails?”

“Everyone good with bourbon?” the CEO asked. We all nodded our approval. The waiter returned a few short minutes later looking distressed.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Ellery,” he said. I’m afraid we are out of Michter’s, sir. Could I perhaps offer you something different?” Anger flashed across Ellery’s privileged face.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously? John, you knew damn well we would be here tonight – with guests. I know this because my girl told me she confirmed the reservation this afternoon. And now you want to feed us some cheap ass, gut-rot whiskey. Bullshit.”

“I’m so sorry sir. We had plenty of Michter’s on hand earlier but a large table at lunch made short work of all of it.”

“I don’t give a flying f**k. Why didn’t you carry your ass to wherever you get that sh!t and get more? Jesus, I guess it really is true, you just can’t get good help these days.”

“Again, I am so sorry Mr. Ellery. Please allow me to compensate for my mistake on your bill. We’ll do better next time,” the manager said.

“Next time? Fat chance! Just bring us some damn menus. We’ll do our drinking elsewhere. Somewhere that has competent staff.”

“Yes sir, right away.”

The shattering difference in how this man had treated me and McKenna just a half hour earlier and the venom he spewed at the restaurant manager was abominable. That’s putting it politely. I looked at Mac, saw the agreement etched all over his face, neatly folded my napkin, and said,

“Gentlemen, I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure.” Mac and I left the restaurant, grabbed a cab, and headed out into the city to find a couple of slices of New York pizza and beer. The would be no investment.

Looking back at it now with a bit more perspective, the whole affair was a textbook study in roles. We all play roles. If you have some modicum of self-awareness, you will sense it in yourself daily. We slip into and out of roles as deftly and easily as we breathe. We are one character with friends, another with customers, another with a boss, and yet another with a lover or spouse. There is nothing inherently wrong with this.

Where we run into trouble is when we don’t realize that all of these roles are inauthentic in some way. Our interactions are not between authentic people but between the roles we are playing. We build mental constructs based on comparisons. Am I better than him? Is she better than me? Everyone is doing it all the time and all have agreed to the rules of the game. It leaves us with the stark reality that there is no real relationship taking place, there are only the fictions playing out in short, two act plays. The playwrights craft their scripts such that they get what they want. Everything is transactional. Everything is a means to an end.

While not easy, we can all strive to give up defining ourselves through comparison to others. Just as well, we can become wholly (or at least mostly) unconcerned with how others define us. When we dial back the roles and begin living authentically, we come alive. This is where we are at absolute our best. This is when we are at peace.

This is when we are happy.

Check out the Happiness 2.0 Podcast — https://podcast.edwardgdunn.com/

Happiness 2.0 Blog — https://edwardgdunn.com/blog

#authenticliving #roleplaying #corporateculture #ManhattanLife #business meeting

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jasdiary · 2 years

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( credit for the template ofc goes to @unfinished-projects-galore <3)

Revamped Bio so some info might be different!

“If you ever need something fixed, Just come to me! I have a knack for tinkering, heh!”

Name : Tinsley Labelle

Nicknames : Tin, Tinsel, Belle, Mademoiselle Fée(Rook), Sis(Gwen @starry-night-rose ), Tiny Tin(Porter @rosietrace ), Fairy Wrasse(Floyd), Miss Belle(Knights at the Draconia Castle)

Jp Va : Suzuko Mimori

En Va : Risa Mei

Age : ???

Height : 152 cm (4’11)

Homeland : Briar Valley

Birthday : 12/27 December 27th

Zodiac sign : Capricorn

Species : Tinker Fae

Hair Color : Honey Blonde

Eye Color : Tiffany Blue

Gender : Female

Sexuality : Unlabled

Family : Gwendolyn Schnee(Biological Sister), Maleficia Draconia(Adoptive Guardian), Malleus Draconia(Adoptive Cousin)

Occupation : Student at NRC, Former Knight

Twisted From : Tinkerbell from Disney Fairies

——————————————————————————

School Information

Dorm : Diasomnia

School Year : 3rd (Junior)

Class : 3-D

Best Subject : Flight

Worst Class : Potionology

Club : Mountain Lovers Club

Dominant Hand : Ambidextrous

Favorite Food : Pumpkin Muffins, Hot Chamomile Tea

Least Favorite Food : Salty things

Likes : Her Hammer, Discovering parts and pieces, Fixing things, Exploring

Dislikes : Being ignored, Restriction, The future, Being teased, Being away from family, Banishment

Hobbies : Tinkering, Sewing

Personality : Tinsley’s super duper kind! She’s friendly to anyone and everyone she meets, sometimes she comes off as a lil too friendly. She’s extremely stubborn, tell her not to do something she wants to and she’ll go kicking and screaming. Tinsley’s also super motherly, considering she’s usually one of the older people here. But be aware, she can fight. She’s a former knight after all,,,,Tinsley’s also easily angered, anger her enough and her face will turn firetruck red and her yelling turns into the sound of bells ringing.

Unique Magic : Tinkering Hollow

“I have faith, trust, and pixie dust to help me!”

She can fix and put together objects she's found into anything she wants, She calls her tinkering hammer towards her with pixie dust but can it only last so long. The hammer begins to fade into pixie dust if used too much and will start to disintegrate into pixie dust. The hammer cannot be used for the next 24 hours.

Backstory : Here!

Random Trivia!

Tinsley SWEARS she hates when Porter teases her, but we all know it’s not true. She’s WEAK against his bloody nose 💔

Tinsley uses her wings to fly around a lot. She tries to not use them too often bcs Pixie dust leaves a mess but man,,,,walking is tiring

She probably very gently threatened anyone who had or has a liking towards Gwen, she just wants the best for her lil sis!!

In all her years of living AND being a knight in war, she’s never been more afraid of someone other than Floyd,,,,

She’s probably somewhere with Lilia in a textbook, u just gotta look hard

She added puffs balls onto the tips of her dorm boots! She thought they added charm

Outside of Diasomnia, She’s particularly close friends with Ortho and Kalim! they all like to fly together!

She joined the Mountain Lovers Club so she’d have more time and access to discovering stuff she could tinker with.

#twisted wonderland #twst #jas drew a thing.jpeg #twst oc #twst ocs #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland ocs #Tinsley🧚🏻‍♀️#Tinsley Labelle #diasomnia oc

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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My Name Isn't

Summary: You find out the guys (Bucky, Steve, and Sam) have a bet as to who can kiss you first, so you confront them at Tony's team building karaoke night.

Warnings: some swearing and drinking

Word Count: 3187

a/n: This was inspired by my love of the classic using karaoke to express your feelings trope and the song My Name Isn't by LOVA. I did change the lyric "yours" into "doll" though because it made sense in the story.

"Not a chance, Wilson." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve walked into the room, unbothered by the familiar sounds of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes arguing.

"C'mon tin man, you afraid you're gonna lose?' Sam couldn't help but tease the super soldier.

"It's a stupid bet! Steve tell him it's a stupid bet." Bucky stared at his best friend, silently begging for him to agree.

Steve's tone could only be described as exasperated when he responded, "what is it this time?"

"I bet Barnes and Noble over here," Sam stopped talking to dodge the book Bucky threw at him, "that I could get Y/N to kiss me before he could, and he's too chicken shit to take the bet."

"It's a stupid bet!" Bucky was gearing up to throw another book when Steve chimed in. "I don't know Buck, it could get you to finally act on your feelings for her."

Bucky rolled his eyes, responding with his typical denial "I don't have any feelings, punk."

Sam and Steve shared an obvious "this man is lying" look before turning back to Bucky.

"Fine, Cap since Bucky won't take the bet, will you?" The mischievous gleam in Sam's eye shown through as Steve weighed his options.

"It is a pretty stupid bet, but I'm doing this for you Buck." Clapping Bucky on the shoulder, he turned to Sam. "I'm in." As Steve went to shake Sam's hand, Bucky gave in.

"Fine! Fine. All three of us. The first one to kiss her wins." Bucky reluctantly agreed.

"Now, what does the winner get?" Sam posed the question, mischief clear in his eyes.

The first time you had an inkling that something was afoot was your training with Steve and Bucky later that same day. Steve wasn't overly touchy or anything that would make you uncomfortable, this is America's Golden Boy after all, but he kept calling you "honey" or some variation of it. You'd throw a punch and rather than correcting your form in his usual commanding Captain voice, he would feed you a random compliment followed by a "try it like this hun."

You left the gym confused and with more energy than one would typically have after training with Steve Rogers. Luckily for you, Nat and Wanda noticed it too.

"What was that about?" Wanda asked as soon as the three of you were out of earshot.

"I don't have a clue." Your expression of complete confusion was enough to convince the two women you were telling the truth.

"I always thought Barnes had a thing for you. I wouldn't expect Steve of all people to try to mess that up. Especially with how obvious you are!" Nat chimed in. You've never regretted anything more than getting drunk and admitting your feelings for the brunette super soldier to the two women.

"Ugh, are the two of you ever gonna forget about that?" Your question was rhetorical as you nearly slammed the door to your room, but it didn't stop the two women from shouting "not a chance" and "only if you tell him" through the door.

The second time you noticed the weird behavior was the next day. You were running through some basic defense moves with some new Shield agents when Sam walked in with Bucky.

Now, normally Sam avoids you in the gym because he knows you'll kick his ass. All your time spent training with Nat mixed with your advanced perception skills meant you are a force to be reckoned with in the gym. This time though, he asked to spar before running through his typical warm up routine.

"You sure, Wilson? I wouldn't want to bruise your ego any further." You joked with him, unsure of his motives.

"Oh I'm sure, baby. Do your worst."

So you did. You had him on the mat in 4 minutes even, not letting the "baby" comment phase you until later in the night when you were with Wanda and Nat.

"First, Steve keeps calling me honey. Now Wilson is in on it with baby! What the hell is going on?'

The three of you shared identical shrugs, choosing to ignore it for now in favor of girls night.

Your days continued with the random comments from Sam and Steve. Of course, after the first 24 hours you noticed a pattern emerging. The two men would only use the pet names if Bucky was in the room. If Bucky couldn't overhear what was being said, everything was normal, but all bets were off if he so much as stepped in the room. It was constant affection and compliments from the two men.

You were thinking about the pattern you'd discovered, along with what it could mean, when Tony barged into the common room like a man on fire.

He surveyed the room, noting the presence of nearly every team member. The only three missing? Sam, Steve, and Bucky. You had a feeling they were most definitely up to something. "Oh perfect, most of you are here already! I have decided we don't do enough team building. Saving the world is stressful and we deserve to relax, so... drumroll please!" He waited for an extended period of time, until you, Wanda, and Vision gave him a lackluster drumroll. "That could use some work, but I'm not going to let it bring me down. We're doing karaoke! I rented out a bar for tonight, so clear your schedules ladies and gentlemen! We start at 8."

To say he was met with mixed results would be underselling the range of reactions. Nat looked ready to kill him. Thor was so excited, he reminded you of a golden retriever playing fetch. Most everybody else fell somewhere in the middle.

"Y/N, be a dear and let the three stooges know would ya? I don't know where they are and I don't feel like finding them." Tony didn't wait for a response before leaving the room just as rapidly as he entered it.

"I guess that's my cue. I'll be back and we can at least get ready together?" You looked to Nat and Wanda for confirmation before leaving to find Steve, Bucky, and Sam.

You checked Sam's room first because it's the closest to the common area, but there was no sign of life. Steve and Bucky's rooms sat similarly untouched. You went to the gym, the pool, the game room, and circled back to the kitchen but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally, you gave up the impromptu game of hide and seek asking FRIDAY where they were.

"FRIDAY, do you know where Steve, Bucky, and Sam are?"

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Lieutenant General Wilson are on the roof." The AI responded so fast, it had you wondering why didn't just ask her 40 minutes ago when their rooms were all empty.

"What the hell are they doing on the roof?" You huffed as you made your way back to the elevator.

"They are the discussing the terms of their bet." FRIDAY's response surprised you. You hadn't meant to actually receive an answer, but now that you did you were curious.

"What bet?" You continued the line of questioning as the elevator rose to the roof access point.

"The three made a bet to see who could get you to kiss them first."

Suddenly, all the pet names and compliments made sense.

"Son of a bi-" You cut yourself off as the elevator door opened, leading you directly to the three men in question. They turned abruptly, clearly caught off guard by anyone coming to the roof.

"Finally. I've been looking for you three everywhere!" You kept the new found information to yourself for the time being. "Tony decided we're doing karaoke tonight. We're supposed to be at the bar he rented out by 8pm." You smiled, taking in the slightly guilty expressions on each of their faces. Even if FRIDAY hadn't told you, it would be painstakingly obvious you caught them talking about you.

"Thanks doll, we'll make sure we're there." You felt the butterflies in your stomach at the pet name, but quickly shut it down. You wouldn't be giving in to their bet that easily.

"No problem, see you boys soon." You winked, pressing the button to bring you back to the main floor. You had a plan to make after all.

"Well, it's karaoke why don't you just sing a song to call them out on it?" Wanda suggested another idea as you all got ready to head to the bar.

"That could work. You just need the perfect song." Nat chimed in, quickly applying some mascara.

"Wanda, you're a genius, and I think I have just the one." You grinned, pulling the song up to play while you finished getting ready.

Upon entering the bar, you immediately started second guessing your plan. That is, until the pet names came out to play. Sam was back at it with calling you baby, and Steve right there beside him with honey.

When you put your name down to sing, Wanda and Nat were right there with you, hyping you up and providing some liquid courage. Four drinks in and you finally felt just tipsy enough to actually follow through with your plan.

With the encouraging words from Nat and Wanda playing through your mind, you walked up to the stage, pulling up your chosen song on the karaoke machine.

You decided to play the beginning of the song off as a coincidence, not wanting to clue the guys in too early.

"One, two, three have been staring at me. It's been going all night."

You made eye contact with Nat and Wanda, fully relying on the feminist in you to knock these guys down a few pegs. By the time the chorus rolled around, you were ready.

Making direct eye contact with Sam, you put as much sass as possible into the next line.

"My name isn't 'baby,' you cannot say whatever you feel like. I am not the things you call me."

Switching your target from Sam to Steve, you kept going with the performance.

"My name isn't 'honey,' I will always do whatever I feel like. Honestly, you don't know me."

Clearly the three of them realized you knew about their bet, but you were on a roll. Switching focus to Bucky, you switched up the words a little bit to put him on blast as well.

"My name isn't... doll. My name isn't... doll."

The girls must have filled in the rest of the group, because you now had Bruce, Thor, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Clint, Wanda, and Nat cheering you on. They were whopping and hollering in agreement with the lyrics.

"We ain't got the time for you messing around so cut the deal."

"Cut the deal!!" You heard Tony yelling out as an echo, shaking your head with a slight chuckle.

"So don't come here and say, 'boys will be boys.' Behind every act there's always a choice."

The three men in question at least had the decency to look ashamed of their actions. Of course, that wasn't enough for you to not put them on blast through another round of the chorus.

The high from calling them out wore off right around the line:

"Do you really think that you can get your way by playing the same game."

Singing those words made you realize exactly what just happened. You held it together, put up a front long enough to get through the last chorus. Singing the last line to Bucky, you felt like your emotions were all over your face. The annoyance that the bet existed. The pain at him being part of it. The love you'd been trying to hide. All of it felt like it was right out in the open.

"My name isn't... Doll. My name isn't, my name isn't... Doll."

You took a quick bow in thanks for all the applause, before running off the stage. You didn't stop at the table with Nat and Wanda, nor did you stop for the three men trying to apologize. You made it outside, running about five blocks before even taking in your surroundings. Noticing a McDonald's, you sent a quick prayer that the ice cream machine was actually functioning before ducking inside.

The team stood with mouths hanging open at your sudden departure.

"What the hell just happened?" Tony posed the question to the group, knocking them out of their stupor.

Bucky was the first to follow you outside, his panic growing when he didn't see you leaning against any of the brick walls.

"Where is she?" Steve asked, spinning in circles right alongside Bucky while the rest of the group filed out the door.

"I don't know!" Bucky turned on Steve and Sam. "I never should have agreed to that stupid bet. Dammit!" Running his hands through his hair, he took off down the street calling a quick, "I'll look this way" over his shoulder.

He moved quickly down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for your sparkly, dark red dress. He looked through the windows of the many store fronts as he passed them. About five blocks later, he was about to turn around, assuming you went a different direction when he saw the familiar golden "m". A memory from about three weeks ago was quick to flash through his mind.

The team just came back from a two and a half week mission yesterday, meaning Tony was bound to throw a party today. It went about the same as most Tony Stark parties go; a lot of schmoozing until most guests left and the team could actually let loose.

You let a little looser than normal at the after party. After the mission required you to pretend to be married to Bucky, you felt like you deserved it. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings from him, especially when he insisted on walking you to your room after the party.

In a last ditch effort to avoid any drunk escapades, you asked him to take you to McDonald's instead of your room.

"Please Bucky?" You asked, drawing out the words and adding a small pout for good measure. "I just want a McFlurry and some fries! Please!"

"Sure, doll. We can go to McDonald's." You jumped up and down clapping, hugging him as you praised him for being so kind.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the nicest, most perfect man to ever live. Let's gooooo!!" He smiled at your antics, leading you to one of the many cars Tony kept stocked, not quite trusting you to ride a motorcycle at the moment.

After getting the food, the two of you ate together in the car. You, of course, insisting he try dipping the fries in the ice cream.

Reluctantly, he admitted it wasn't that bad before driving the two of you home. He dropped you off at your door, receiving a whispered "thank you" and a quick kiss to the cheek from you.

He smiled at the memory before walking inside. He found you in a booth toward the back, unsurprisingly dipping fries into your ice cream

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." You didn't even look up when he started speaking, choosing instead to study the m&ms in your dessert. "Really. It was a stupid bet. Hell, I didn't even want to do it, but then that punk and birdman teamed up against me and I couldn't let them do it without me! It would've killed me to know one of them kissed you. It was so stupid and I should've just shut it down. I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more than that." He trailed off, waiting for you to say something.

You gestured to the seat across from you, pushing some fries toward him. "It was a stupid bet."

You waited until his mouth was full before asking "Why would it have killed you?" Watching him nearly choke on his fries was oddly satisfying.

"What?" He tried to deflect the question. You shook your head, passing him a napkin.

"You said it would have killed you to know one of them kissed me. Why?" You looked him in the eye as you ate another fry.

"Well, you see, I... um, maybe have um... feelings." It was his turn to stare intently at the m&ms. He mumbled a quick "get yourself together" under his breath before continuing. "I like you. Hell, I think I love you. I don't know when it started, but suddenly you are all I can think about. I worry about you constantly when your on a mission without me, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I see little things that remind me of you everywhere. Like yesterday, I saw a buttercup on the side of the road and I couldn't stop thinking about the time you spent a good twenty minutes ranting about how spring is the worst season."

Suddenly, you were on a tangent. "Because it is! It's always raining, it's muggy, it's always freezing in the morning and way too hot in the afternoon so you have to carry all these extra layers-"

"I love you. That's why it would've killed me. I don't even want to think about you with another-"

It was your turn to cut him off, doing so by leaning across the small table to kiss him. It was quick, but you still felt fireworks.

"I love you too." Your words were sweet, but shifted when you said the rest of your sentence. "I just have one more question." The smirk on your face made him nervous, but he was more than willing to answer anything.

"What do you get for winning?"

After talking with Bucky, you texted Nat and Wanda to let them know you were okay and the two of you were headed back to the compound. You beat everyone else back, but decided to wait for them in the common area.

Steve and Sam came in with their heads low, struggling to make eye contact.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. We never should have made that bet." Steve started, aware of all the eyes on him.

"Me too. It was stupid and thoughtless." Sam added on.

"It was, but you are forgiven." You reached for Bucky's hand, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Bucky told me the winner of your little bet gets to pick the music for all forms of travel on the next three missions." You grinned at their confused expressions. "Bucky, being the winner, has so graciously bestowed that gift to me now. Get ready boys. I'm talking High School Musical. Hamilton. I'll have the two of you singing Taylor Swift in the shower." You, along with the rest of the team, laughed at their expense. Their grim expressions had you smiling, "oh please, I know you secretly love it!"

"Now, I have to go to bed. I have a date tomorrow." You winked at Bucky before sauntering off down the hall, the cheers of your teammates following you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #marvel

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extasiswings · 3 years

Note

“I felt it shelter to speak to you.” for Buddie

This was...not supposed to be this long but all the recent promo content has been...inspiring. Anyway...on ao3 here.

The first attack happens on a Saturday afternoon.

There’s nothing special about the day, nothing strange. Christopher is at a friend’s birthday party, Buck is off somewhere with Taylor, and Eddie is grocery shopping before he’s meant to meet Ana for an early dinner.

His shoulder aches a little—that’s what he notices first—but that’s not too unusual. It happens sometimes. Even as physical therapy has helped him regain strength and mobility in his arm and shoulder, a high caliber sniper round ripping through his upper chest is no minor injury. Plus, while he’s hardly ancient, he’s not even as young as he was when he was shot the first time, and those bullets left behind their own patches of scar tissue and occasional twinges.

So. His shoulder aches. It’s fine. He ignores it and moves on. Goes through the store, checks out, put his bags in the backseat—

There’s a glare off a window in the apartment building across the street.

Eddie reaches for the handle of his door.

Suddenly, his fingers start tingling, uncomfortable pricks of icy numbness traveling up his hands like they’ve fallen asleep, but shaking them out doesn’t help. And then, without warning, pain lances through his chest, sharp and acute, and he can’t breathe properly, as if his torso has been trapped in a vise that’s slowly tightening more and more.

His vision swims. He sways on his feet, grasping at the door handle with clumsy, numb fingers to keep himself upright.

He feels like—he feels—

He feels like he’s dying. It strikes him with sudden clarity. He’s dying. Dying in a random parking lot—he always assumed he was too young to have a heart attack but the symptoms fit and he’s just—

He can’t. He can’t die. Not when he’s survived everything else. This can’t be—

“Sir?” There’s a woman with a station wagon parked in the space next to his truck and she’s looking at him with no small amount of concern. “Are you okay?”

Eddie’s mouth is so dry and his breathing so irregular that it takes him a moment to respond.

“I—I think I need to go to the hospital,” he grits out as another wave of dizziness threatens to send him to his knees.

She calls 911. Eddie spares a moment to be grateful that the paramedics who show up a few minutes later aren’t from the 118.

As it turns out, he’s not dying. And he didn’t have a heart attack.

“A panic attack?” Eddie’s voice is distant to his own ears as he stares at the ER doctor in disbelief, his stomach flipping with a new kind of dread. “Are you sure?”

“Your symptoms resolved on their own and your EKG is normal, Mr. Diaz,” she replies as she flicks through the screens of his chart on her tablet. “And nothing in your prior history or other recent tests indicates that there’s anything physically wrong with you—you were healthy before you were shot and your recovery has progressed smoothly up to this point.”

She pauses and looks back at him. “Have you...spoken to a therapist? I noticed that your treating physician made a referral for counseling when you were originally discharged, but…”

Eddie clears his throat roughly. “Yeah, no, I, uh...with the PT schedule and everything else going on, I never followed up with that. But I’ve been fine. It never seemed necessary.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Diaz,” the doctor says, “you’re in the emergency room because of an acute stress response in which your brain tricked your body into believing you were in danger to such an extent that you thought you were dying. I’m not sure you’re as fine as you think.”

There’s probably some truth to that. Eddie can admit that much. But that doesn’t mean he needs—he’s been shot before. He’s been in a warzone. He didn’t need therapy to move forward from it then and he shouldn’t now. He can—he can handle this. He can make himself get over it.

He’s already spent months leaning heavily on everyone around him. The thought of not being okay, of asking for more help when he’s finally easing back into working, when things are finally getting back to normal, when they all have their own issues to focus on—

God, it makes him want to throw up.

So...no. He’s okay. Because not being okay isn’t an option.

He’s fine. The panic attack was...a fluke.

“I appreciate the advice,” Eddie says finally. “I’ll think about it.”

He can tell the doctor doesn’t believe him when her lips thin.

“You know, more likely than not, the panic attacks will keep happening if you do nothing,” she points out. “Ignoring this won’t make it go away.”

“I understand,” Eddie replies. “If that’s all, does that mean I can get out of here?”

The doctor sighs. “Sure.”

Eddie’s phone rings while he’s in an Uber on the way back to his truck. It’s Ana.

He swears under his breath as he sees the time—he hadn’t called anyone, hadn’t wanted the hospital to call anyone either, but that means he’s now late for a date that he doesn’t really want to keep after everything and further doesn’t leave him with any good excuses for his absence except the truth which...he doesn’t really want to admit.

Before the shooting, Carla told him to make sure he was following his heart. And he’s been too exhausted and focused on his recovery to really think too hard about that. But now—

For a moment, Eddie considers it. Telling Ana the truth. Showing her some of the dark, messy, ugly pieces of himself. Being vulnerable.

The very idea makes him recoil. Not because he thinks she would run away necessarily, but because he just...can’t.

He can’t. Not with her.

And if he’s that uncomfortable with the idea of letting in someone he’s been dating for over half a year, if he can’t imagine himself ever actually being comfortable with that...then what the hell is he doing?

He calls her back when he gets to his truck.

“Hey—I’m so sorry, I had a little emergency—yeah, everything’s fine now, but I’m not sure I’m up for going out. Can I meet you at your place? ...okay, great. See you soon.”

He may know even less about ending a relationship than he does about dating in general, but he figures he at least owes it to her to end things in person.

Eddie goes to work on Monday feeling fine. Great, even. He sleeps well the night before, he gets Christopher off to school on time, traffic is light enough that he gets to the station early—

Everything is fine. By all accounts it should be a good day.

At least, that’s what he thinks right up until all of them get different emergency alerts sent to their phones and they find out the city’s systems have been hacked. From that point forward, everything is chaos. Damage control. Twenty-car pile-ups because stoplights are being messed with, an outbreak of animals from the zoo when the electric locks on their enclosures released—

Eddie’s fine though. He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle—in fact, he’s usually great with chaos. He’s focused and sure and capable. Nothing else matters but the work, certainly not himself. When he’s busy, he has no time to think about anything else.

The gradually worsening tension in his shoulders can be ignored. The way he has to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking in a way he hasn’t had to do since his earliest days in Afghanistan can be brushed off. He doesn’t have time to think about anything but the jobs in front of him, which means he doesn’t have time to think about his own state.

Brush it off, pick yourself up, keep moving forward. That’s what he knows, that’s what he can do.

Except, then they end up at the hospital and—

A medevac helicopter falls off the roof. Bobby nearly joins it. Buck and Eddie barely manage to get him back.

A cold sweat breaks out on Eddie’s brow as Bobby leans heavily against the wall next to the roof access door to catch his breath. His stomach roils. He doesn’t feel fully connected to his own body, caught somehow between present and past, a rooftop in Los Angeles and a desert in Afghanistan.

He breathes in. He tamps down on the rising panic.

Bobby is fine. The helicopter pilots and their patient are fine.

He’s fine. He’s fine.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie jumps at the question, his head whipping around to find the source. Buck’s brow furrows as he holds up his hands.

“Sorry,” Buck says quietly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Eddie swallows hard and shakes his head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

He glances toward the door. “You know, I think I’m going to head back down,” he says, hoping Buck won’t notice the fact that he hasn’t answered the original question. “I want to make sure the pilots are holding up alright.”

“I can come—” Buck starts to offer, only for Eddie to cut him off.

“Someone should stay with Bobby,” he replies. He forces a smile as Buck’s eyes search his face. “I’ll be fine.”

Buck glances at Bobby, then back to Eddie before he finally nods.

“Okay,” he says. “But here, take the radio. If anything happens—”

“I’ll let you know.”

Eddie makes it down one flight of stairs before he decides to take the elevator the rest of the way down. The numbers on the top of the doors tick down, down, down—

And then, abruptly, the elevator lurches to a halt, throwing Eddie off balance and into the wall as the lights go out, plunging him into total darkness.

His ears ring from the impact.

He’s trapped. Trapped in a metal box in the dark. A box that could easily become a coffin if the emergency stop failed and sent it careening down to crash at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

Eddie’s breathing speeds up against his will. His chest starts to hurt.

Not again, he thinks vaguely. Not here, not now, not again.

But. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. Some distant part of his mind recognizes that what he’s feeling isn’t real, that he just needs to calm down, but he can’t—

He’s going to die. He’s going to—

The radio crackles in his belt.

“Eddie? Eddie! Can you hear me?”

Eddie’s mind latches onto the sound of Buck’s voice like a lifeline in an ocean of distress. It takes him a moment to make his trembling hands work through their numbness, to remind his fingers how to work the buttons, but eventually, he lifts the radio to his mouth.

“I’m here,” he says. His voice shakes. “I’m in the elevator. It’s—I don’t know which floor. Or if I’m between floors. I don’t—”

He shudders. His eyes close, not that it really matters given how dark the space is already.

“It’s okay,” Buck replies. “It’s okay, Eddie, we’ll find you. We’ll get you out, don’t worry.”

“I don’t want to die here.” It slips out of him before he can pull it back. Buck takes a sharp breath on the other end of the line.

“That’s not going to happen,” Buck says firmly, although his own voice seems less steady than usual. “I would never let that happen. I’ve got your back, remember? Always.”

A shudder rips down Eddie’s spine and he slides against the wall to sit on the floor. The walls still feel too restricting, like they’re closing in on him more each moment that he looks away.

The radio crackles again.

“Eddie. What can I do? What do you need?” Buck asks.

I don’t know. I don’t—I can’t—

“Eddie.” The fear and desperation in Buck’s voice cuts through the fog in Eddie’s mind.

He never wants Buck to sound like that.

“Keep talking?” Eddie replies. “I—just keep talking to me. Please?”

Don’t go, is what he really means. Stay with me.

He’s never allowed himself to say those things though. Not during the early days of the pandemic when they were sharing a bed in Buck’s loft. Not after he moved back home with Christopher and the other side of his bed felt too empty for sleep to come easily. And certainly not after he started dating Ana.

During his recovery, he never had to ask Buck for anything really. Buck was always just...there. Even though he was with Taylor, he was still there with Eddie and with Christopher whenever Eddie needed him. Like he knew somehow. Or maybe as if he needed to be there as much as Eddie needed him there.

Eddie hasn’t looked too closely at any of that. He’s not ready to. It’s too much, too complicated, too—too—

Dangerous.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Eddie swallows hard as his head rests against the wall. As he allows the sound of Buck’s voice to wrap around him like armor. Like home. Insulating him against the panic and isolation.

“Anything,” he says quietly. “Just keep talking.”

And Buck does. He talks about everything and nothing, random facts and stories from his past that Eddie hasn’t heard before, he talks and talks and talks until his voice grows hoarse in Eddie’s ear and the pressure on Eddie’s lungs eases.

Eddie exhales shakily and takes a few deep breaths as he continues to listen, as his body shifts from hyper-awareness and panic to wrung out exhaustion. When Buck finally cuts off, it’s because there’s an ugly screech of metal as the elevator doors are pried open, as light filters back in.

Eddie’s legs are unsteady as he gets to his feet. He trips on the edge of the elevator door when he exits—

Buck catches him before he can fall. Because of course he does.

“Thank you,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s shoulder as he finds his balance.

Buck shakes his head. “I promised we’d get you out, didn’t I? Besides, I—I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“I decided—”

“I shouldn’t have let you,” Buck repeats, low but insistent. His eyes meet Eddie’s and Eddie swallows hard.

“You weren’t okay. Were you?” Buck asks. And Eddie—

He wants to lie. Part of him does at least.

But he can’t lie to Buck.

Not to Buck.

“No,” he confesses. It’s half a whisper. “No, I wasn’t.”

Buck bites his lip and nods once.

“Okay,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.”

And somehow, Eddie believes him.

#chapel writes #prompt fill #letmetellyouaboutmyfeels #buddie #eddie diaz #buddie fic #buddie ff

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astrologybyana · 3 years

Text

lot of spirit / part of spirit

hii babies, i'm back! in this post, our focus is on our lot of spirit ✨

lot of spirit tells us about where we can experience abundance in life

it is also believed by some astrologers that this placement in our chart shows how our spirit guides are like

so i'm just gonna connect those two and say it's your higher self whispering in your ear how your soul can find satisfaction hahah

its formula is ascendant + moon - sun

however, to find where your lot of spirit is located, you can simply go to astro.com, choose “free horoscopes” and then “extended chart selection”

from house systems, choose “whole signs” and write "37452" to the additional objects part, and there it is!

you can also access to my masterpost, here 🎈

it’s a long post so i cut it from here 🧚🏻‍♀️

lot of spirit in aries / 1st house

very passive earlier in life, you probably didn't like arguments and confrontation

and gave in easily bc you didn't wanna be alone

which means u might have been taken for granted a lot

you have learnt / are learning / should learn (lol sorry...) how to overcome this fear of yours tho

let people come to you and when the time comes, let them go, to let abundance in your life

once you get the hang of it, your need for indepence will take over and you'll see success comes easily with your leadership abilities 🌸

lot of spirit in taurus / 2nd house

you might not have felt good enough while growing up

in relationships, you might be the one who is more giving

pulling back from intense people might be good for you because you are prone to sacrificing yourself

and what you need is your own sense of "self", what you need is "you" separately

you are probably drawn to people who are wealthy and materalistic

others might challenge your self development but this is the area you need to work on anyways ✨

lot of spirit in gemini / 3rd house

you might have felt like you haven't been understood / listened enough while growing up, you might have had communication issues

you can read between the lines

you observe how people communicate, you can understand body language and gests and mimics easily

so it's hard to manipulate you, though, it might be easy for you to manipulate others

you probably make scenarios in your head to see how things can go

you might need to work on mind flexibility 🕊

lot of spirit in cancer / 4th house

family approval is important to you, uou feel like you need to belong somewhere, anywhere

because you might not have felt the emotional connection you wanted to feel as a child

the lack of emotional connection might have been with one parent or both; they might have been aloof or distant, physically or emotionally

in relationships, you may feel responsible like you need to carry the traditional roles of a gender

you like knowing what's going to happen, it might give you a feeling of security

having a job that where you take care of others will probably be good for you 🦄

lot of spirit in leo / 5th house

you might feel like you haven't been a child really, or you haven't had fun a lot

you might have grown up in an area with people that are very different than you

you wanted to be popular, but those differences did not really let you

and feeling neglected by your peers probably blocked your creativity and heart chakra

you might have developed a wall around you, which you think protects your self esteem but the only thing it does is not let love in

you should learn how to be comfortable letting that wall down and reach out to others 💖

lot of spirit in virgo / 6th house

you might have grown up having to out a standart for certain stuff

you might have felt like you had to do what you were told, and you put high standarts to do those things, in order to get your parents' attention

however, this probably led you to put too much effort into everything you did

which might have made you feel like you were responsible for anything and everything

you might have a tendency to take things too personally

high standarts are good, don't get me wrong, but it might feel good to not critisize yourself and others too much and let things loose a little 🎈

lot of spirit in libra / 7th house

you love harmony and getting along and all that, but when you see unjustice, whoops 👀

you can't stand that shit. but good for you!

when you defend someone who feels support, you feel good, it's like everything is as it's supposed to be

but while fighting for others, you might tend to ignore your own problems

and no, sweetie, that's not good. you need harmony here, too

pls learn how to set boundries and take as much as you give 🌠

lot of spirit in scorpio / 8th house

you probably have developed a strong sense of self which lets you know when to help people, and when to step back

you might feel like you are unintentionally attracted stuff that are about other people's values

fear of failure, ✨a lot✨ which makes you driven to use your full potential in like anything

people might try to use their power on you, which triggers your sense of defence

you need to trust, but it's hard for you, you need to feel like you are loved as who you are

doing your own thing and achieving your personal success will open doors for you 💸

lot of spirit in sagittarius / 9th house

you might not have felt confident enough while growing up

you might have been in situations where you felt like you had to speak up, but you just couldn't because of your lack of confidence

you have a philosophical approache to life and you love expanding your mentality

you're intuitive, you just know when someone is genuine or not

you don't like small talk, you want to dig deeper and deeper

following your intuition and avoiding gossip etc. is the best thing to do here 🎀

lot of spirit in capricorn / 10th house

you had to learn how to take responsibility at a younger age

you were probably someone to step back and observe, you might have felt suppressed and feared of stepping outta line

because you knew there were consequences to face after doing something

as you grow up, life has probably challenged you by leaving you in situations where you have to deal with self esteem, and eventually developing it

you might also like to challenge yourself and see how much more you can accomplish

you'll find a feeling of satisfaction by facing your fears, gaining control over who you are, making your goals clear and achieving them 👑

lot of spirit in aquarius / 11th house

you might have no or little control over your identity while growing up, and it might have affected your social life

you might have had mood swings every now and then, which probably made you feel like your life was full of ups and downs, like a rollercoaster

although you're a very friendly person, but you might have felt like you never fit in, so you learnt to rely on yourself only

you are still discovering yourself, and that's beautiful

expressing your unique ideas will make you meet people like you

however, you should overcome your impulsivity in order not to experience outbursts 🎈

lot of spirit in pisces / 12th house

you probably think you are here to help people

what makes you think this way is that there have been so many people who needed you

you try to see the best in people, and while that's good, sometimes your sight might get too cloudy, which could lead to not seeing red flags

whenever you feel like your energy is draining, you need to get away

you tend to bottle up your own problems, and open up when you feel like you can trust someone 100%

you may find it difficult to say no, but that's exactly what you should learn 💖

481 notes · View notes

bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

uwu hcs for jean and eren with a s/o who’s bold in giving affection but gets easily flustered when they’re the one receiving it 😗

“now whose the flustered one”

paring: eren yeager x female reader, jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: implies nsfw, kissing, heavy flirting, fluff

word count: 2400+

a/n: sorry for the lack of content, but i hope you guys like this, im trying to get through all the requests before i go on hiatus but hope you like it any comments will really benefit, also i didnt read it properly but its a headcanon sort of, idk sorry im tired

summary: in which giving affection to the boys always leaves them swooning but as soon as they do it to you, you become an entire mess in front of them

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

eren yeager

You had known Eren since day one of the cadet corps, both meeting one night out on the barracks. You had seen him around whilst in the cadet corps, but you talked to Sasha and Connie a lot more than you did him and his two friends who always seemed to follow him around.

But the one encounter late at night had bloomed a friendship where you both became closer than anybody realised. Now two years later, on the brink of graduating and joining the survey corps you and Eren were partnered up to spa with the boy, the consistent teasing and flirting for two years flowing out from your mouth.

“Aww is Eren not able to beat a girl.” You mock going in for a punch, he dodges but cocks his head backwards in a laugh.

Looking at your much shorter frame, he goes in for a punch himself, “I’m capable of beating anyone Y/n, that includes you.”

You’re the one to laugh this time, arching your back to miss the swing of his fists, “maybe you’re going easy because you like me, it’s fine a cute boy like you, I might let you win.”

He blushes but tries to hide it with his fists raised, “like you, I could never.” The back and forth continuous on, everybody in their own worlds except Armin and Mikasa, the latter being annoyed at how you hit him.

“Come on Eren, aren’t you going to try harder.” You tease before you feel him grab your arm and flipping you to the ground, he stood on top of you his feet planted beside your waist.

An idea popped into your head as you quickly grab his arm dragging him down on top of you, you heard Mikasa shout his name but you both ignored it. His body on top of yours, you smirk feeling his hands on the sides of your body. He encased your body in his own and you leant up to meet his ear.

“Baby if you wanted to get me in this position, all you had to do was ask.” You kiss the side of jaw the blush on his face evident. Mikasa and Armin had come up to you both, confusion at how you both just stayed there.

The flirtations had been a common occurrence, you weren’t just naturally flirty with everybody you happened to have a soft spot for the boy and maybe a teensy crush. And the only way for you to let it out was through teasing and flirting which he seemed to enjoy a lot.

“Eren are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Mikasa speaks worriedly grabbing the top of his shirt to get him up, his cheeks visible to everybody.

You laugh getting up yourself, “Mikasa I’d never hurt the pretty little thing.” His eyes flash, widening at how easily you can flirt and tease at him, evidently a rush had gone somewhere else with how he grabbed his jacket from the floor covering his lap.

“Eren you shouldn’t put dirty things on your clothes.” Mikasa spoke about to grab it.

“I’m fine.” Eren muttered back, he watched as you walk a way a grin on your face at how at ease you were.

It wasn’t till after you all got back to the barracks that he could sort the downstairs problem and all he could imagine was you. A happier grin on his face he joined everybody for dinner, the bread being stale and the food being grim to say the least but the first thing he notices was how you, Jean, Marco, Connie and Sasha were on the table with Armin and Mikasa.

He shrugged it off grabbing the food and going to the table, “where were you?” Mikasa questions ready to give her his seat, but he instead sits beside you. You hadn’t noticed him listening to Sasha about food and hunting a smile on your face.

“I had to sort something out.” You nearly jump out of your seat at the sound of his voice a laugh echoing through your ears at how close you both were. His arms touching your own.

“Sort something out yeh.” You muttered lowly, it was barely audible but Eren heard and as much as he loved the flirting, he needed to give you a bit of your own medicine.

He moved his face towards your ear, his hot breath fanning your ear. “You created a problem for me, so I had to sort it somehow…” his voice becoming even more quieter, “how about next time you help me yourself?”

You had watched the boy grow, watched everything for two years and now at the sound of him knowingly flirting back, knowingly acknowledging something was there. You heart fluttered and a heavy red scattered across your cheeks, you felt warm and in heaven.

He moved his head ready to start a normal conversation with everybody else, nobody having paid attention except Mikasa who always kept an eye on the boy. For her sake, you hoped she didn’t like him because you knew you were not letting him go. “Now whose the flustered one.” It was audible enough and your head spun out how he knowingly knew that you were blushing at his comment.

You could barely speak; he expected a response but was instead brought with your wide eyes and flabbergasted face. “i…i…”

No words came out and with Jean on the other side of you trying to gain your attention you stayed frozen. “Did someone break Y/n?” Jean mutters, Marco laughing at how dumbfounded you were.

“I…I’m fine.” You seethe out trying to cover your face with your hair, “I need some air.”

You weren’t trying to get away, but you felt embarrassed, they had known you for two years as a major flirt even more than Ymir was to Historia but the way you had easily got flustered over a proposition. It was humiliating to say the least.

You rushed out, moving past the people. You had been holding in a breath that you quickly let out, the warm air hitting your skin, you leant against the building, looking up at the stars before you heard a cough beside you.

You turn and see Eren, the boy looking down before meeting your gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that and I’m so…”

Interrupting him, you began to speak yourself, “you don’t need to apologise, I just didn’t expect it I thought you didn’t know of my feelings towards you.”

He smiles coming closer to you, he brings his hand to your jaw making you look up at him, your back pressed against the wall. His other arm against the wall trapping your head, “Y/n you’ve been flirting with me for two years you really think I’m that unaware of anything.”

You tried to turn your head away, but his grip made you face him, “I thought your only focus was killing all the titans, or you liked someone else and were trying to let me down easily.”

“I’m not a dick to lead a girl on for two years Y/n, I needed to get over some stuff and then everything happened, and we’ve nearly finished this whole thing and I realised in a couple days we’ll be in the survey corps and fighting titans and I might not have another chance to say this. But I love you.”

The last three words were a whisper, but it was all you needed for you to grab his hair pulling his face closer to yours. He closed the gap in an instant, his hand removing off your jaw and onto your waist, it was a sweet kiss, filled with love and lust. His tongue licking your bottom lip for access, which you allowed, soft moans came from you both. Hoping nobody would see but that was the last thing on Eren’s mind as he relished in the way your tongues moved together. It was as if you were both made to fit into each other. It was a needed kiss and the turmoil the would come made it even sweeter.

jean kirschtein

The survey corps was the worst place to ever flirt ever. You and Jean had only just finished training and you were both thrown into the deep end with the first scouting mission, of course you and Jean had unhidden feelings, but it was always just flirting. Heavy flirting especially from you but just flirting.

The female titan being uncovered made everything become even more chaotic and finally when you both had gotten some sort of peace in where the main base of the survey corps were. You were spending it with your friend hoping no more disorder would come.

You sat at dinner, chewing at the bread as you leaned against Jean. He would often let you lean against him just to know that you were there, and to everybody you acted like a couple but you both knew that neither of you had admitted any feelings. You talked between yourself as the others had left themselves before it was just the two of you. They knew that once you two were deep in conversation nobody was every going to break past the two of you. Which was evident as you realised everybody had left.

“Where did everyone go?” You gestured to the empty dining area.

Jean looked around, you both had been in your own world, talking about everything you two possibly could, “they must’ve left.” He shrugs grabbing the glass of empty water. “You drank my water.”

“I was thirsty.” You try and gain sympathy, but he rolls his eyes at you.

He drops the glass looking at you again, “I wish I spat in it.”

“Gross but if you’re into that.”

“You’re terrible Y/n, I hope you know that” He mutters shaking his head, you had still been leaning against him but as you stretched, he knew what was coming.

“Come on pretty boy, let’s go on a walk.” You gesture about to stand up.

“Pretty boy, really.” He mutters but you could sense he had a thrill from hearing the words.

You pout standing up and putting your hand out, “would you rather me call you horse face?”

The nickname Eren had given him a plague on your tongue, he whipped his head to face you. Taking his hand in yours, he was a lot taller than you, but you liked the height different, it made you feel safe. “If you call me that I’m never talking to you ever again.”

You laugh at the boy before speaking, “I don’t need you to talk, just little moans will do it for me.”

He always admired your boldness, both your feelings there but never told to each other. It wasn’t like you two had even kissed yet and this had been going on for two years now. Of course your flirting always left him a mess, many nights along in his room thinking of you. Sometimes you came too close to him your breath on his neck, or it was how in your normal clothes you left a couple buttons shown to see your visible chest. Or even better how you said bold words that to anyone would only be reserved for a couple.

He knew how outspoken you were but you both had just not gone down to talking about your feelings. He himself never went to the extent you did but he loved watching you flirt with him and even make him jealous occasional by touching Eren’s arm.

He knew if in a relationship, you doing that would make him fuck you in an instant but right now he couldn’t do shit. He could only watch you flirt with him, you both had arrived outside, the breath of fresh air hitting you both.

You saw some of your friends, seeing Connie try and fight Sasha for some meat presumably. You dragged Jean the other way, wanting him all to yourself. “You’re awfully quiet, what happened am I too pretty that you’ve gone quiet?” You giggle pulling him along the narrow alleyway, he admired how you occasionally looked around to make sure he was still following even though you were the one holding his hand.

Finally getting into the open area, you sat on one of the steps waiting for him to join, you undid a few buttons. His eyes fixated on your hand movement, “I don’t bite you know, unless you’re into that.”

A blush creeped onto his face, he shut his eyes to surpress it but to no avail he became a mess under your words. He sat beside you quietly, trying to think of what to say before an idea popped into his head, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be spending so much alone time with me, I might ruin you.”

“Ruin away.” You taunted back waiting for a comeback, he smirked facing you your head rested against his shoulder whilst looking up at his face. He was a pretty boy, you could imagine him ruining you, you had been known back in your town as timid and quiet, but it was really because nobody really took an interest in.

But Jean, he was perfect having come up to talk to you and as time went on you grew comfortable enough to stop being timid and be the loud outspoken person you are today. And it was all down to the hot head.

He touched your thigh rubbing is fingers up and down, a friction making you tense up. He had never gotten this close, never done this before but you liked it. “I bet you’ve spent countless nights thinking about me, you enjoy taunting me because it gives you a thrill, but both of us know that when we’re alone you’re just a hot mess…” He paused taking a breath, “just for me.”

You knew he was right, the nights tossing and turning not able to sleep, with thoughts of him touching and kissing you. Your cheeks erupted in a flush on embarrassment. You were the one to get shy this time, he grabbed your face, moving his lips closer to yours whilst speaking, “now whose the flustered one.”

He edged closer and closer before you closed your eyes and kissed him softly, the fireworks that erupted inside of you made you melt under his touch. He guided the kiss with his hand, making sure that you were comfortable but satisfied by it all, it deepened with his hand grabbing your thigh to bring you closer. You could almost feel his own thighs beneath him, his teeth tugging at your lip to gain access for his tongue. You obliged with ease, the movements of both your tongue perfectly balanced with soft moans erupting from your mouth. You felt dazed but enjoyed every second of it, because you had finally gotten the kiss you had dreamt about.

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 21 - ao3 -

When he woke, Lan Qiren expected to find everyone talking about what had happened.

He might have even preferred that, despite the cost it would undoubtedly do to his personal reputation; instead, he found that the entire incident had been largely covered up, with even Lan Yueheng uncertain as to what had caused Lan Qiren’s injury other than that it involved some sort of dispute with his brother. That a mangled version of the story had not spread was as sure a sign as anything that He Kexin, whatever her faults or reckless willingness to act on assumptions with little base in reality, had in fact explained what had really happened, and that his brother had decided that he wouldn’t permit her reputation to be tainted by her actions.

Anyone might have expected the honorable Qingheng-jun to have apologized to Lan Qiren at that point for his own reckless assumptions, but his brother had not. On the contrary, he had left orders for Lan Qiren to be punished for breaching the rules of hospitality in striking an honored guest, and for violating several other rules not publicly specified.

Lan Qiren could imagine which ones his brother had in mind.

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Lan Qiren said to his teachers, blankly staring down at the punishment order, written in his brother’s hand. He hadn’t even been given the courtesy of being told about it to his face, as anyone might have expected, nor allowed the opportunity to defend or justify himself; he had been summarily sentenced in a note. “I really didn’t.”

His music teacher and his swordsmanship teacher both looked uncomfortable and awkward, each one clearly aware of the breach of protocol taking place – and, given their position as sect elders and honored teachers, very likely the actual facts of what had occurred. They knew that the only thing he was being punished over was for having the misfortune of being selected as the tool for He Kexin’s scheme, and his brother’s order – vastly excessive for a breach of the sort listed as the reason, given the usual standard of punishments – was due only to his own embarrassment and chagrin, and maybe his jealousy that Lan Qiren had unwillingly gotten even a little of the attention he so greatly desired and could not have. And yet, despite that…

“He is your sect leader,” one of them, the latter, said, and if his voice was a little regretful, it was also cold and passionless. “He has issued punishment. Are you defying his order?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were like fists on his knees. “Where is my brother?” he asked. He didn’t think an appeal would be a good idea, even if he were technically entitled to it – it’d be futile, unless his brother abruptly realized how foolish he was being – but he would be fine with it if only the answer wasn’t…

“With Rogue Cultivator He. She has agreed to give him another chance.”

Lan Qiren bit his lip and looked down. He did not like He Kexin, and not only because she had so grossly transgressed against him in an obvious attempt to convince his brother not to like her any longer – an attempt that, given the extent of his brother’s love-madness, probably wouldn’t have worked even if Lan Qiren hadn’t been utterly repulsed by the idea of bedding his brother’s prospective bride – and the idea of her giving his brother another chance at this point, even after having done so much to try to make him go away…

Perhaps she liked men that fought over her, he thought bitterly. Or perhaps it was only that she appreciated how much of his love she had for him to treat his younger brother as nothing on her behalf - though if that was what she was thinking, she was sorely mistaken.

“Something will need to be done about my brother’s behavior,” he said, looking up at them desperately. “You must know that this is not sustainable, honored teachers.”

“That is not your concern,” his swordsmanship teacher said, while his music teacher merely looked sad and helpless, as if what was happening was a force of nature that could not be quelled or diverted, and not merely a single man’s inappropriate behavior. “Will you accept the punishment? Or do you intend to defy the sect leader’s order?”

Lan Qiren shook his head mutely, and went to the discipline hall.

Afterwards, Lan Yueheng scurried in after him, shoving a healing pill into Lan Qiren’s mouth and holding his mouth shut until he swallowed it. “You should go,” he said, glancing around anxiously. “You don’t want to be here any longer than you have to.”

“You assume I don’t have to,” Lan Qiren said, still shaking from the pain. He’d never gotten that many strikes all at once, not in his life; he could barely stand unaided, and leaned on Lan Yueheng gratefully. “I’m supposed to kneel and meditate on my actions for three days –”

“You can do that somewhere else!”

Lan Qiren shook his head.

But for once Lan Yueheng was right and he was wrong. On the first two days of his punishment, he saw his brother pass by the discipline hall in an excellent mood, his ‘second chance’ with He Kexin going better than he had hoped – according to the gossip Lan Qiren overheard, apparently she did like it when handsome men fought for her and believed in her, and moreover apparently one of her friends had intervened on his behalf – but on the third day, just as he was about to complete his penance for crimes he had not committed, his brother returned suddenly in a fury over some setback. In a bout of bad luck and bad timing, he saw Lan Qiren just as he was making his way out of the hall, and in a fit of temper he had extended his order from one set of strikes to two, even though such a retrospective revision of punishment was contrary to both the letter and spirit of the rules.

He was the sect leader, though. According to the rules Lan Yi had set down so many years ago, as sect leader, he was entitled to vary the rules if he felt the need to do so.

This time, when the punishment was done, Lan Qiren hauled himself out of there, using the wall and sheer willpower to force his shaking legs to carry him, and stiffly announced to the teacher supervising punishments that he planned to meditate in penance in the Cold Spring instead of the discipline hall.

It was technically against the stricter interpretations of discipline, since he’d been punished to kneel, not meditate, but the Cold Spring was known to have recuperative and pain-easing properties as well as acting as an aid to cultivation; his teachers, which had overseen his punishment for the second time with tightly pressed lips signifying disapproval that meant nothing if they were unwilling to take any action to stop it, did not dispute him, and with a nod his freedom was assured.

Lan Qiren had a brief moment of disquiet when he got there and realized that he would have to strip off his clothing in order to bathe – he’d only had enough time to wash himself since the incident with He Kexin, and a quick scrub in the cold air did not leave time to worry about who might try to find him while he lacked a protective layer of clothing – but with a deep breath he reminded himself that he, unlike his brother, would not allow his life to be governed by He Kexin’s whims. Anyway, it would be unhealthy to wade in with all his clothing on; the wet cloth would serve only to make him feel colder and get less benefit out of the water’s healing properties. Even if his golden core was strong enough to resist most of the negative effects of catching cold, there was no need to tempt fate.

He put his clothing somewhere he could easily see it, tucking his access token into the clothing in such a way that summoning the token would drag along the robe as well, and then unsteadily entered the water, wincing at the bracing chill as he sank down until he was neck-deep in the water, settling himself in the proper position to meditate. Or, well, to sit blankly and wait for there to be a little less pain: even putting aside the severity, it was also the first time he’d ever been subject to back-to-back punishments in such a reckless fashion. Lack of treatment after a punishment was fairly standard if the sentence also included kneeling – technically, Lan Yueheng shouldn’t have given him a pill to encourage healing, and Lan Qiren shouldn’t have accepted it, although doing so was not a major breach. Moreover, given that the teachers had ignored it rather than adding on any additional punishment, it might even be seen as having been subtly countenanced.

Lan Qiren rather wished he had one now.

Or Lan Yueheng, for that matter. Or even Cangse Sanren, far away in Yunmeng, or Lao Nie, or someone, anyone, who would be friendly and take his side, even –

“Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren blinked, surprised to note that the angle of the light had changed considerably; he must have fallen asleep or otherwise drifted off. Or perhaps he was still asleep, because why else would he be hearing Wen Ruohan’s slow drawling tone saying his name in the middle of the Cloud Recesses?

“Ah, little Lan,” the man himself said, gliding out of the mist that surrounded the Cold Spring like a wraith. “There you are.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. “You’re – here.”

It didn’t feel real. How could Wen Ruohan be here?

“I am,” Wen Ruohan said, his lips curved in his usual arrogant expression, the one that said I don’t care what you think of me. “Or am I expected to await your invitation in the future?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, because he felt even less in control of anything to do with his sect than he had been when he’d been its second young master, even though he was now the presumptive heir. His vision of Wen Ruohan blurred and briefly doubled; he blinked to clear it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Even if it was true.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes briefly widened, and then he smirked, looking delighted by the admission. “So you missed me after all,” he said, his voice low and intimate; one might almost call it a purr. “Ah, my stubborn little brother…”

Lan Qiren briefly closed his eyes. Had his brother ever referred to him directly like that? He couldn’t remember if he had.

He wished that it had been some single moment in time, some rash act, that had driven his blood brother, born of the same father and mother, so far away from him. He even wished that it was something that he had done so that it could be something he might fix, might repair with apologies and penance, but he knew that it wasn’t.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that Wen Ruohan had come closer, prowling along the edge of the Cold Spring with his red eyes fixed on Lan Qiren. His pace, as always, was slow and steady – it felt inexorable, unstoppable, and Lan Qiren did nothing to stop him, watching blankly as he came forward, crouching down right beside the place where Lan Qiren was sitting beneath the water.

“Little Lan,” Wen Ruohan purred. “My little Lan…”

He reached out, his long-nailed fingers tracing down along Lan Qiren’s cheek, as light as snowflakes, and down to his chin, catching it in a strong grip and turning his face to look up at Wen Ruohan. His thumb brushed against Lan Qiren’s lips.

Lan Qiren swallowed. It had been, he thought, too long since he had felt the touch of someone who wished him well, or indeed anyone at all; he had missed it more than he had realized.

Wen Ruohan noticed, and his smirk widened.

“I heard a rumor that you had been caught in attempted adultery,” he remarked. “I didn’t believe it, of course, and no one else did, either – but I had to come see for myself.”

“I didn’t,” Lan Qiren croaked. His voice felt strangled and inexplicably hoarse, and he found himself absently calculating distances in the back of his mind: Wen Ruohan must have left the Nightless City for the Cloud Recesses the very moment he received the report from his spies on what had happened in order to be here now. “I really – didn’t.”

“I believe you,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding cool and amused. “It didn’t really seem like something that my little Lan would do. My little Lan, who missed me so…”

Lan Qiren tried to turn his head away, not wanting to see the smug satisfaction in Wen Ruohan’s voice and face and manner – Wen Ruohan hadn’t won, he thought stubbornly to himself. Lan Qiren hadn’t given up on his conviction that such torture was wrong or that Wen Ruohan was wrong in engaging in it. It was only that Lan Qiren was tired and in pain, and willing to accept comfort from just about anyone.

Wen Ruohan wouldn’t let him turn away, though, and overpowered his weak movement easily.

“Don’t fret,” he said coaxingly. “I missed you, too.”

That sounded nice.

“I must admit, I tried not to. I thought to myself that if you were so foolish as to turn away from me, the consequences should be on your own head, nothing to do with me. But despite my best efforts, you were never far from my thoughts…”

Wen Ruohan’s hand released Lan Qiren’s chin and drifted down to his throat, lightly pressing his nails against his skin as if examining how the color changed when he did. He moved closer, too close for Lan Qiren to see him clearly given the mist and the angle; his second hand fell upon Lan Qiren’s shoulder, while his first continued to drift down, skating along his collarbone, drifting over to his side –

His touch slid across one of the stray bruises left over from his punishment.

Lan Qiren flinched.

That was a bad idea, of course. The involuntary reflex moved his body too quickly, straining all his other cuts and bruises, and the spike of pain from that made him gasp and instinctively curl up. His vision briefly whited out, and he struggled to control his breathing, keeping it slow and shallow to let the pain pass over him.

After a moment that felt overly long, his vision cleared. When it did, he became aware that Wen Ruohan’s fingers were pressed to his brow in the place between his eyes, transferring warm qi to him in such a torrent that it almost hurt; Lan Qiren lifted up a hand to stop him.

Wen Ruohan was faster than him, though, and he pulled away his hand and caught Lan Qiren’s, pulling it up to examine the bruising that was already appearing on the back of his arm – stray marks, in the main part, since the majority were on his back, between his neck and thighs. “What happened?” he asked, voice sharp. “How did you get these wounds?”

Lan Qiren looked at him in bewilderment: was this not the same man he had seen twist human beings into shapes their bodies could not bear, burn them with fire and slice them into bits? Why would he care so much over a few bruises and cuts, the marks left behind by unyielding wood when it struck flesh, instruments of discipline used a thousand times over in every single sect?

“You know already,” he said, unable to keep the slight tone of plaintive accusation out of his voice. “You said you believed me…”

Wen Ruohan stared at him, expression strangely blank, and then in a single gesture he pulled Lan Qiren up to a standing position, waist-deep in the water and choking on the pain of it, back bent forward like a bow, the worst of the marks now visible to Wen Ruohan’s burning gaze.

“What is this?” he demanded.

It wasn’t really a question that needed answering, and he wasn’t really asking, not anymore, but Lan Qiren responded regardless: “Punishment.”

Wen Ruohan’s hand was tight on his wrist.

“For what?” he snarled, and he sounded furious. Lan Qiren didn’t know if he’d ever heard Wen Ruohan sound this angry - he didn’t know if anyone alive had heard him be this angry, and if they had whether they’d survived the experience. “It is impossible that you actually bedded your brother’s lover. So what possible reason could they have for punishing you?”

“He’s my sect leader,” Lan Qiren said groggily. His head was starting to hurt; he had exited the cold water too quickly. “Does he need a reason?”

The hand on his wrist tightened still further. Lan Qiren would probably have bruises there in the morning as well, equally undeserved - but he minded these far less.

At least Wen Ruohan was angry on his behalf.

“Qingheng-jun is daring indeed,” Wen Ruohan said, his voice as smooth as silk and as dark as a moonless night. “To think he can act with impunity to anyone he wishes, even going so far as to harm one with whom I share an oath –”

“…do you?”

Wen Ruohan stopped. “Share an oath with you?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said. His head lolled a little, and he found that somewhere along the line he had been drawn into Wen Ruohan’s arms, making it easy to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. Wen Ruohan was overly warm, as always; his sect always preferred cultivation techniques involving yang energy and fire – it wasn’t a surprise, not really, but it was unexpected how pleasant it was. “Need a reason.” He shook his head a little. “You hurt people, too.”

“You are not just any person,” Wen Ruohan said. “You’re my little brother.”

“I’m his little brother, too.”

He felt Wen Ruohan’s hand, blazingly hot against his water-chilled body, come to rest on his hair.

“You were born with poor luck in brothers, little Lan,” he said, his breath warm against Lan Qiren’s ear. It was as if all the heat in the world was contained in his body, and Lan Qiren capable only of leeching off of it. “Not just him, but me as well; we each fail you in turn. I will not apologize for having bound you to me, for I do not regret it – but I will endeavor to make it up to you.”

Surrounded by all that warmth, Lan Qiren drifted off to sleep.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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angelsdevils · 3 years

Text

Imayoshi x Reader

Title: Tutoring Fluff No Warning

Imayoshi watched as you did your homework. He had a huge crush on you and he wanted to get closer to you, the only thing was he hardly got the chance too. Between basketball after school and you always around your best friend, (friends/name). This was his chance though, since it was the last bell of the day, study period and your friend was sick.

He got up and gathered everything of his before walking to you. He was going to speak, but he realized you had headphones in, so he tapped your shoulder. You looked up and took your headphones out and tilted your head to the side. He fought back a blush that wanted to appear on his cheeks.

“She is really cute….” He said, he meant to say it in his head but that wasn’t exactly what happened.

“W-What?” Once he realized what he said that out loud, he turned a bright red.

“I-I mean, can I sit with you?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” You said with a small blush, but you still flashed him a kind smile. He set his stuff down and sat across from you, you put one ear bud in and went back to doing your homework. He watched as you struggled with a math problem, he tapped your notebook and leaned over it.

“That’s not right, here is the correct formula…” He wrote the formula down for you and your eyes widened as he easily explained it to you.

“Oh, I get it now. Thank you Imayoshi, so it’s like this?” You worked on the next problem and he watched.

“Close, you missed a step.” He compared the two formulas and you blinked slightly.

“Oh right…” You fixed the problem and he nodded his head.

“Yep, you got it right now.”

“Awesome, thank you… Hey, do you think you can tutor me in math?” You asked, Imayoshi perked up a bit with a smirk. He didn’t plan on tutoring you, but it definitely would help him grow closer to you.

“Yeah, it would have to be after basketball practice though.”

“Of course, I understand. You are the best, I could just hug you right now.” You said feeling relieved, and he laughed softly. This had worked out better than he thought.

“Well, I can take that hug anytime…” He said and you blushed slightly. He reached over and stroke your blushing cheeks, he was tempted to lean over and kiss you.

“W-Well, let me give you a hug then…” You said with a small blush and walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, returning the hug. He buried his face into your neck before pulling you into his lap. You squeaked softly and he didn’t move, though you just sat there trying to avoid eye contact with him or anyone else for that matter.

Once the bell rung, you and Imayoshi got up from your position, and began to gather your stuff. He gently grabbed your hand after you were ready to go.

“You are really cute when you blush by the way. I can take in that sight all the time.” He hummed and you nudged him slightly.

“Stop that, it’s embarrassing Imayoshi.” You said hiding your face with your hair. He removed the hair out of your face, and quickly kissed your cheek as you guys arrived at the gym. You stared at him wide eyed as he went to the boys locker room to change. Your heart rate began to increase in speed as you had taken in the last few minutes.

You shook your head quickly, knowing that you were falling for the slanted eye male. You had a huge crush on him since the beginning of the year. But now your heart was doing flips after the kiss to the cheek, could he possibly like you? You stood off to the side watching as practice started.

The team knew Imayoshi was trying to impress you and it was working. You never saw them play a game, because you were always busy studying. Whenever Imayoshi scored, he would glance at you with a proud smirk. You flashed him a smile he would go back to focusing on practice again.

Practice had lasted for a few hours, and you had decided to go sit down. When it finally ended, Imayoshi went to change before coming to get you again.

“Ready (L/N)?”

“Yeah, I am.” He grabbed your hand walking out of the gym, ignoring his teammates.

“You were amazing Imayoshi…”

“Thank you, have you never been to our games?”

“No, I was always studying.”

“Let me guess, math?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, you have me now. So come to our games and cheer me on.”

“Alright, I will.” You said and Imayoshi smiled as he led you to his home. The walk was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. In fact you both enjoyed the silence, just being in the other’s presence.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, he unlocked the door and allowed you in first. You both removed your shoes before going to his bedroom. You began to get nervous realizing you guys were completely alone. He walked past you and sat on his bed, before he looked over at you.

“Come, you can sit beside me.” He patted the spot next to him on the bed and you nervously walked closer to him.

“Don’t be nervous, I won’t do anything that you are uncomfortable with.” You felt a bit more at ease and sat beside him, taking out your math books. You both began to focus on the homework and studying for any upcoming tests. By the time you both were done studying, it was already much later than you expected. Somewhere a long the study session, Imayoshi had his head on your lap and you were again the headboard. You finally closed your math book, massaging your temples.

“Thanks to you, I think I am starting to understand it.” You said and he adjusted his glasses.

“It’s no problem really. It gave me an opportunity to become this close to you.”

“What?” You were confused, and he slowly sat up but in a way that he was right in front of your face.

“I like you a lot (L/N), it was hard to get close because your best friend was glued to your side during school, and after school I had basketball practice. So when you asked if I could tutor you, it was the perfect opportunity.” His confidence went down a bit, but you smiled.

“Imayoshi, I had liked you since the beginning of the school year.” He smiled slightly and cupped your cheeks gently.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Of course…” You had a small blush, but you were smiling. He soon placed his lips on top of yours gently. Your eyes fluttered close and you both could feel fireworks exploding in your chest. You began to kiss back, and Imayoshi wrapped his arms around your waist so you were flushed against his body. He gently laid you down on your back, careful so you wouldn’t hit your head against the headboard. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as the kiss continued on. He licked your bottom lip asking for entrance, and you quickly gave him access.

Imayoshi slipped his tongue past your lips, and easily dominated your mouth. He explored the foreign territory and he grew addicted to the kiss. He sucked on your tongue causing a small moan to escape your lips. The sound caused you to blush a deep red, and Imayoshi enjoyed the sound. Soon you both parted from the kiss panting, breathless from it all.

“Wow, that was amazing.” You said and he smirked, pecking your lips.

“God, I love you so much (Y/N)…”

“I love you too…” He leaned back down and captured your lips again causing you to laugh softly.

#imayoshi shouichi #imayoshi #imayoshi x reader #imayoshi fluff #kuroko no basket #Kuroko's Basketball #fluff

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straightlikewetspaghetti · 3 years

Text

The Voice Inside My Head

Pairings: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: angst, mature language, mental illness, self-harm, domestic violence, rejection

Word count: 1901

"Kiss me."

Bea nearly choked on hearing those words from Poppy, who had not once turned or spoken in her direction since the beginning of the film. Now illuminated by the glow of the giant projector and with a dreamy expression on her face, she could easily command her to jump into the abyss and she would do so with pleasure.

"Yes, Princess," she replied, taking her face in her hands and greedily began to kiss her lips.

Princess? How long has it been since he called you that?

Ignoring the voice in the back of her head, Poppy gave herself fully to the magic of the kiss. Her face quickly began to burn as the other girl's curious hands began a slow roaming of her body, never crossing boundaries she didn't want to. Bea had always respected her, even if calling each other names was on their daily agenda.

The windows of Bea's car began to slowly steam up as the heat between them began to turn into a pure flame of desire, and Poppy's quiet whimpers echoed through the small space of the vehicle, turning Bea on even more. The blonde made herself as comfortable as she could in her seat and slid her hands into the girl's thick hair, which was begging for it.

Bea purred approvingly as she felt Poppy gently massage her scalp as she gave herself over to the skin of her neck. With her mouth, she felt the blonde's pulse quicken, just like her own, and if it weren't for her ribcage, her heart could have easily jumped for a walk.

Harder...

Poppy's body began to grow impatient as Bea made no further move, but continued to caress every easily accessible parts of her body with care. Otherwise she would have let her do it, but the thoughts swirling in the back of her head were starting to overwhelm her.

Make her punish you. Let her do what you deserve.

The blonde tightened the hands she held in Bea's hair, only for the girl to hiss and look at her questioningly. The blood-red blushing Poppy didn't even look at her, just to the side panting heavily, though the brunette didn't really do anything to that effect.

She could feel her adoring gaze on her.

Look at her Poppy. She's so vulnerable, so susceptible to your charm and grace, she doesn't even expect what a broken person you are inside.

T-that's not true.

No? And how many times did you hurt her before you agreed to go on that date with her? How many people have you hurt to realize that somewhere in your rotten depths you can feel something warm?

"Stop it," Poppy whispered unknowingly, but Bea, absorbed in trying to show how much she adored her, didn't even hear it.

You will hurt her. You WILL destroy her.

No, no, stop...

Just like you destroyed your family.

"Stop it! Just stop!" Poppy's body shuddered, tears hiding behind her eyelids that shouldn't have been there. Bea jumped away from her like she was on fire, pure terror mixed with shock on her face. She had no idea what had happened, but Poppy herself looked like someone who didn't know what was going on either.

"Jesus Christ Pops, I'm sorry!" Bea nervously began to adjust Poppy's clothing handling her like an egg so that the blonde wouldn't take it as any attempt to continue their little game. The brunette fingers trembled as she tried to fasten the buttons of her blouse.

Can't you see it? She hasn't even done anything wrong, yet she's the one apologizing to you because YOU are emotionally unstable. She is perfect, too perfect for someone as damaged as you. It's not her who doesn't deserve you Queen Bee, it's you who doesn't deserve her.

"Would you just shut up!"

Poppy was already almost panting from the strange fury bubbling up inside her that she could no longer contain within herself. Her scream was so loud that several people in the cars next to her turned toward them and began watching with interest. The blonde didn't even pay attention, her gaze still fixed on the brunette, whose face was full of so many mixed feelings that it was hard to determine what was really in her head.

The blonde sighed, letting half of the unnecessary rage float away and began to see more soberly with her eyes. What she began to notice was not at all to her liking, the pain she saw on the other's face was far more unbearable than the voice sitting in her head.

"Bea I..."

"It doesn't matter," escaped the brunette briefly. Turning around in her seat, she turned the key in the ignition as if nothing ever happened. "I'll take you home."

Poppy dug her long nails into her hand.

She always did this when she was mad at herself. However, now she was quickly losing control. Her brow furrowed as she stared blankly at the road in front of them, and her grip tightened, her nails slowly beginning to cut through her skin. Her breathing became labored, she knew another panic attack was coming. She clenched her jaw, feeling her body begin to tremble.

When she opened her eyes again, she no longer saw the road, but that cursed corridor from which it all began. Whenever she walked along it, it somehow magically got longer, only painfully delaying what was at the end. Instinctively, she looked to the side, towards the wall on which the pictures were hanging, and again she felt as if she were that little helpless girl from many years ago.

"Mommy?" her frightened voice echoed down the hallway as she again heard the thunder coming from outside, where a powerful storm was raging. Clutching her beloved teddy bear more tightly in her hands, she hurried toward the ajar door, from which raised voices began to ring out.

Before she could get there, her dad came out of the room looking shaken. He walked slowly to his daughter and squatted down, ruffling her hair. Poppy, however, did not return the smile when she saw tears in her dad's eyes.

"Remember I will always love you my little princess," were the last words she heard from him that day, the next and many more to come, because as he rose from his knees and grabbed the handle of the front door, his silhouette dissolved into a heavy wall of rain disappearing from her life once and for all.

Shortly after he disappeared, her drunken mother darted out of the room and ran towards the front door on wobbly legs. Instead of opening it, she simply banged on it violently and began sobbing, even louder than the raging thunder. "Art you coward!" her mother screamed towards the door, hitting it with an open fist every now and then. Poppy didn't even have to get close to her to smell the stench of strong alcohol. "You fucking coward..."

"M-mommy?" she said horrified at the state her mother was in. She immediately regretted it when her mother's glowing fury gaze fell on her and she started walking towards her. Poppy hugged her teddy bear tightly, trying to draw any comfort from it, and closed her eyes.

It didn't take Ana long to reach her daughter. She grabbed her firmly by the arm and began shrugging, out of control of her emotions. "This is all your fault," her screams were more terrible than the storm outside, her breath nearly parching Poppy's nostrils, who instinctively turned away from her mother. "You destroyed this family."

You were still so young, you couldn't understand that it was never your fault.

She drew in air heavily as she felt Bea's hand slip into her own, loosening it. It felt like ages had passed, but in fact her mind had locked her into the past for only a few minutes. With a scowl, she looked towards the brunette, who thankfully had her eyes on the road the whole time, her thumb gently caressing the skin of her palm.

The rest of the journey passed in pleasant silence, if that' s the way to put it. Poppy leaned against the window, mindlessly watching the trees fly by, and Bea kept a hand on her palm whenever she could, non-invasively trying to reassure her. In no time, Poppy was sitting on the couch at Bea's house, who had left her alone with herself for a while.

The blonde looked around the room, a little uneasy as she'd been here a few times before but had never paid attention to the scenery. She usually didn't have time for that when all she was thinking about was how much she wanted the brunette's touch on her.

"-- Sinclair is out, there is no option for her to stay here tonight."

A familiar voice reached her ears. She wasn't surprised that Zoey wasn't happy about her presence. The very fact that she had let her on her property was quite a surprise to her. She rose from the couch and wandered into the room where the two girls were discussing.

"Excuse me Bea, but Chlo called, there's some sort of accident at the sorority house and I need to get back. Thanks for today."

Lying is your second nature, but doing it in good faith? Impressive...

"I never expected to live the day when I'd hear a thank you from Sinclair," Zoey muttered, and despite her hostility, a spark of respect flashed in her eyes. "However, that doesn't change the fact that you're not welcome here, and I won't hide that," the girl crossed her arms over her chest looking down on Poppy.

"Sure, fine, I understand," she didn't have the strength to argue, besides deep down she knew the girl was right about that. "I'll go now."

"I can give you a ride!" Bea jumped in front of her briskly like a Golden Retriever pup, earning only a snort from Zoey, but Poppy just shook her head with a weak smile.

Before she left she rose on her tiptoes and placed one of the softest kisses of her life on Bea's cheek. Her lips stayed there for a moment longer than they should have, but Zoey's exaggerated grunt brought her back to gray reality. She left the building without looking back.

The night was chilly, so with every gust of wind Poppy covered herself tighter with the jacket Bea had wrapped her in when she wasn't even paying attention. Walking alone along the trees, she had the feeling that something was watching her and was about to jump out of the bushes at her in any moment. She quickened her step when she heard a rustle coming from around the corner.

She almost screamed when, to her terror, an actually tall figure emerged from the darkness. she cursed herself and Chlo in her mind for every horror she had made her watch. To her surprise, however, horror turned to confusion.

"Hello my little princess."

That voice...

"D-dad?"

#I felt a little angsty #don't mind me #poppy min sinclair #poppy fic #poppy x mc #bea hughes #queen b #queen b choices #choicesfic #choices #playchoices

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naralanis · 3 years

Text

little bumps in the road (pt. 8)

Previously on LBitR

“For the record, I still say Disney World would have been far safer than this insanity.”

Lena does her best to ignore Kara’s muttering. While this may be one of the more insane schemes she has ever concocted in her life, the truth of the matter is that she would have never, ever suggested it if she didn’t honestly think they could pull it off.

“Maybe,” she concedes, squinting at the drugstore compact sitting on the nightstand as she readjusts the wig. “But it certainly wouldn’t be as productive.”

She turns to Kara, who’s still frowning, and fluffs the strawberry blonde locks cascading from her own head. Maybe she should just bleach her hair and be done with it.

“So, what do you think?”

Kara’s frown deepens considerably. “You still look like you, Lena. I’m not sure about this.”

“Wait, hold on; I’m missing a crucial piece,” Lena retorts, reaching for a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses sitting on the nightstand. “Ta-da,” she says flatly, pulling them on. “Unrecognizable, I’m basically a different person.”

Kara pulls a face, and Lena mentally kicks herself, rushing to pull the frames off.

“Kara, I didn’t mean...”

The blonde raises a hand, stopping her in her tracks. “I know,” she says, though she does so through clenched teeth. “I still think this is a monumentally bad idea. Explain to me why I can’t go with you.”

Lena sighs. “Because you’re supposed to be dead, Kara--it’s far less risky if I go in alone. Even if I get caught, you remain a secret. Plus-- I know the building. I used to own it, once upon a different Earth, remember?”

Kara crosses her arms over her chest, looking entirely unconvinced. “I still think we should wait for Alex. She’s going to respond soon, Lena, I know it.”

“Maybe she will, maybe she won’t. Call her again tomorrow,” she says, as evenly as she can. “But I’m doing this, Kara. I can’t just stand by while you go without powers for another day--who knows when Alex will actually be able to help? I need to do this.”

Kara stares, pensively and worriedly, not saying a word for a long time. She looks at the wig Lena’s wearing, at the outfit they bought a few towns over to make her look like some intern--button-down, dark jeans, oxfords, at the medical supplies they’ll use to take a sample of her blood and transport it to LuthorCorp tomorrow. Her gaze lingers on the glasses Lena’s still holding, and she releases a sigh, sounding more than defeated--she sounds afraid.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” she waves a hand over the considerable space between them, seemingly at a loss. “There’s nothing to... atone for, or whatever.”

Lena smiles, knowing it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree there.”

Kara looks anguished, seems to be grinding the gears in her head, like she knows that at this point she’s just grasping at straws.

“Is it too late to find a vet lab somewhere?” she tries, with no conviction behind her tone.

“No, but LuthorCorp will have the equipment for much faster, and more accurate results. I can do this, Kara. I promise.”

Kara visibly deflates, and Lena knows the matter will be dropped, just like that. “Fine. I concede. I’m never talking you out of this, am I?”

Lena feels her smile twitch a little, but she reaches over the gulf between them, putting the glasses back on the nightstand.

“No, darling, I’m afraid not.”

Kara’s responding sigh seems to echo in the motel room; it lingers in the air, heavy with a fear Lena knows she’ll try to brush off.

“Alright, fine. Now please take off that wig--you as a blonde is freaking me out.”

Breaking into LuthorCorp is quite simple, in a manner of speaking: all one needs to make it through the main doors is a swipe card. If she had the necessary materials, Lena could easily clone one with her eyes closed, but as it is, she needs to acquire one from an actual employee.

That is easily accomplished; Kara, decked out as tourist (complete with a neon-orange fanny-pack of her choosing), distracts a low-level minion having his lunch break on the public plaza right across the street from the main building, and Lena just walks right past them, disguise in place. His entry card and lab-coat are in her hands in less than a second, and in the other, she’s already crossing the street.

With any luck, Lena will be in and out of the building before the card is ever reported missing.

The problem, however, lies in getting into a laboratory. Any of the more equipped labs, those working on secretive (and likely illegal) projects, would lie behind layers and layers of security Lena has neither the time nor the tools at present to even try to break.

To their luck, Lena doesn’t actually need to try to sneak into any high-clearance labs--all she needs is a solid thirty minutes with a mass spectrometer of her own design; a handy not-so-little piece of machinery that had become standard in all L-Corp labs in their previous Earth, and, because Lex cannot resist stealing a good idea, LuthorCorp.

Still, even to access a simple, run-of-the-mill lab at LuthorCorp, Lena needs to go through biometric sensors--retina scanners, to be precise.

And maybe, just maybe, Lena had neglected to mention that little detail to Kara when they discussed the plan for the umpteenth time that morning while she methodically took a sample of Kara’s blood, but that’s neither here nor there.

Once she’s through the main doors-- Kryptonian blood sample packed into a Thermos full of ice in her purse (I am amazed and disturbed at how easily you were able to get medical supplies like these, Lena, seriously), it’s easy enough to make her way through the elevators, carrying a stack of papers to look the part of an intern--no one even bats an eye.

The cameras on the third floor are exactly where Lena had expected them to be, so she walks down the corridor to where she knows is a supply closet, and swipes in with no problem. The layout of the building really had not changed at all since she last worked there, even if that had happened on a literal other reality.

Once she’s in, Lena only has to wait. She counts the seconds in her head in French, both to keep track of time, but also to calm her racing heartbeat, because this--this is the biggest gamble of her plan.

Since she obviously does not have a way to bypass the biometric scanners, Lena’s only option is to get someone to do it for her.

She lies in wait in the supply closet for about two and a half minutes, and then she hears it: the sound of footsteps, two sets of them, and idle conversation, coming down the corridor directly her way. Lena takes a deep breath, counts the steps as they approach--she only has one chance to do this right.

When the steps are right in front of the closet, she swings open the door with force.

“Ow!”

The hit is a good one--whoever’s on the other side blocks her from opening the door all the way with dull impact, and her papers go scattering all over the place.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Are--are you OK, did the door hit you?”

Lena’s holding a hand over her right eye, moaning and doubled-over in mock pain as two young men--both looking to be interns-- look her over with concern. One of them is already on the floor, gathering her papers.

“Ow, no, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have opened the door like that--oww” she cries, maybe a little too dramatically. One of the interns, tall and lanky, steadies her as she fake-wobbles on her feet.

“Ouch, did you hit your head? Let me take a look at your eye, take your hand---yikes!”

Lena removes her palm, previously dusted with the finest blush powder she could find at the drugstore yesterday, and makes a big show of blinking away her tears. The make-up gives her an instant shiner, and the fine powder has the added benefit of irritating the shit out of her eye--so the swelling and the tears are 100% real.

“I’m fine, really, thank you,” she says, waving them off and taking the sheets the other intern dutifully picked up. “I’m so sorry, I was in such a hurry--are you guys OK?”

“Better than you,” the first one, laughs, though he still looks concerned. “Are you sure you’re OK? Your eye looks pretty bad, do you want to go to the infirmary or something?”

“No, no, it’s fine -- I just got to run some stuff, then I’ll get some ice. I’m fine, really,” Lena waves them off politely, touching the skin around her supposedly injured eye.

The two men exchanged a worried glance, but the first shrugs his shoulders. “OK then, take care. Sorry again.”

“No worries,” she laughs, a little too high, but she’s so close, so so close... “I’m just a klutz--my fault, totally.”

She’s already walking away towards a lab, one she had checked during her walk from the elevator to the supply closet. The interns linger by the closet door for a moment, before slowly making their way to the elevator, still sending worried glances her way.

Lena swipes the stolen card, and immediately the panel by the side opens up, revealing the retina scanner and prompting her to scan her credentials. She leans towards the scanner, and the red light makes her blink; the machine buzzes and flashes red, and a robotic voice filters through the side-speakers.

Unable to scan. Please try again.

Lena huffs, audibly--she hears the interns’ steps pause someway down the corridor. She stomps her foot, and leans over the scanner again. It buzzes.

Unable to scan. Please try again.

“Shoot! You’ve gotta be kidding me right now!”

The steps grow closer, and for a moment Lena’s a bit worried she may be overselling her frustration, but before she can try scanning her retinas again, the tall and lanky intern is by her side.

“Did you try your left eye? Seems to be in better condition,” he jokes--his smile is genuine and friendly, but Lena puts on an impressive grimace of alarm.

“I never registered it,” she bemoans, feigning panic. “God, I meant to, but then it was just one of those things--oh my god, my boss is going to kill me--”

“Hey, relax,” he quips, raising a hand to stop what was going to be a rather dramatic tirade. He smiles, and swipes his card at the door, leaning over the panel and scanning his own eye.

Scan complete. The voice drones. Access granted; Montgomery, Jason.

The panel lights up in green, and the door unlocks with an audible hiss. Lena lets out a little squeak of delight that is barely faked--she can’t believe it worked.

“Oh my god, thank you, you’re a saint!”

She pushes the door open, but is barely a foot inside when an arm blocks her entry--she almost screams, body frozen in sheer terror as she turns to look at the intern the door panel just identified as Jason.

He’s smiling broadly. “Say, I’m sorry about your eye. Can I make it up to you over some coffee, later?”

Lena can barely contain her sigh of relief, but she puts on her sweetest smile and bats her eyelashes (though she’s not sure how good the effect is with the eye that is actually stinging quite painfully--what the hell was in that powder??). “I think you just did, Jason.”

His blush would have been cute, if Lena had not been on a very tight schedule. “Oh, I insist. When does your shift end...?”

It takes Lena a second to register he’s waiting for her name; she slowly maneuvers under his arm, dragging her fingers over the sleeve of his labcoat--she can practically feel the poor guy’s shiver as she leans in closer.

“Liz,” she whispers, close to his year. “And my shift ends at seven. The café across the street alright with you?”

He visibly swallows. “Yes, ma’am. See you there, Liz.”

Lena gives him a wink--with her good eye-- as he steps away. As soon as the door clicks shut again, she exhales with relief, leaning against it so she doesn’t just fall to the floor. Her knees are trembling.

She knew she could pull it off, but she also cannot believe she did.

With no time to waste, Lena practically bolts to the nearest spectrometer, quickly uncapping the Thermos with Kara’s blood sample and getting to work. It’s almost refreshing to be in a lab again, even under these circumstances, after weeks on the road. There is an innate sense of calm that falls over her when she’s working like this, like this is her element.

Like this is where she is meant to be.

The spectrometer whirs to life with Kara’s sample--Lena only needs twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes with it. She is tempted to stay for as long as she possibly can--there is so much equipment here that would be helpful... if only she brought a bigger purse, maybe she could have stolen some without detection, since there are no cameras in the labs.

The screen begins to break down the analysis, and Lena’s barely seeing it; she’s copying everything by hand onto a notebook--once the machine is done, she will make its history unrecoverable, and she doesn’t want to print anything through LuthorCorp printers.

Lena works quickly, annotating in her shorthand and trying to work as fast as the machine gives her results. She is barely processing what she sees; there will be time to read and figure everything out later, but now, she needs all the information she can cram into this little notebook.

She can feel her own eyes widening at some of the results, has to check them twice before writing them down--her pen furiously scratches across the paper, but her brain is already elsewhere, trying to reverse engineer the method of synthesizing what she’s seeing in Kara’s blood, trying to figure out ways to get it out of her system, trying to...

The spectrometer slows down and stops--the bar on the screen reads analysis complete. Lena releases a sigh of relief, hand cramping as she writes.

And then there’s the click of a gun right behind her.

“Fancy seeing you here, Lena.”

Lena shuts her eyes--the right one still throbbing, and raises her hands, still clutching the notebook as she slowly and deliberately turns around. She never even heard the door hissing open. She opens her eyes to meet a flinty, furious glare.

“Hello, Alex.”

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

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#nara's word vomit #supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #LBitR #BUCKLE UP KIDS #WE ARE DOING FAKE-ASS SCIENCE #I know some of y'all really wanted them to go to a vet's #but listen #they simply COULDN'T #kara would get distracted by all the puppies #and Lena would never get any work done #also I am pulling this out of my ass every morning #SO WHO KNOWS WHERE WE'RE HEADED #not me #definitely not me #never ever me

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