#sometimes i brush against triggers and spiral completely and immediately

[sfucked]

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[wallwriterstuff]

These Violent Delights ||Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 3 of a request for @tiger-khans-blog​

Part 1 - Obsession  Part 2 - When You’re Lost I’ll Leave My Gaslight On 

Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic. 

This fic in particular contains graphic descriptions of violence and injury further down. 

Words: 5543

Summary: With no idea what is and isn’t real anymore you’re beginning to lose your mind and suspect your loving mate isn’t all he seems to be. Desperate for some semblance of sanity you try one last time to clear your head, and the consequences are dire. 

Demetri had suspected that there was something more going on beyond the surface. Y/N Swan was quite a sweet little thing and he had missed her greatly, but he respected her decision – as had Felix – to create some distance between them so she could learn to get along with Alec. Now Demetri was wondering if she’d ever made that decision at all. With increasing frequency Alec had burst into his room or the throne room with the declaration you were missing, and Demetri had immediately put his gift to good use. In almost all the situations Demetri had prepared for the worst, perhaps he’d find you kidnapped or injured somewhere after an outing gone wrong? But every time he’d found you you had been perfectly fine and dreadfully confused as to why he was there at all.

You were always doing quite mundane things. He didn’t even need to track you half the time to tell Alec you were at that little café whose pastries you adored. Sometimes you ventured further out, wanting to see the leaves changing colour in autumn in the park nearby. Other times you were literally right on their doorstep, drawing on the edge of the fountain. On those occasions Demetri stayed with you, letting you have a few minutes more of freedom, because he had started to notice a disturbing pattern – every time he found you you looked more and more lost. You had adamantly refused to accept Alec had not seen your note the first few times, but the doubt slowly crept in until you were entirely unsure of what you had or hadn’t done. Alec was never violent upon your reunion, playing the part of the concerned mate perfectly. He was always so relieved to have you back, but the boy seemed oblivious that you were obviously suffering.

You had lost that spark you used to have in your eyes, and your posture had become more slumped over. You were meeker, agreeing to whatever was put forward to you without question more often than not. Demetri was sure he could tell you the sky was purple and you’d whole heartedly agree, even if the blue was staring you right in the face. Your withdrawn personality didn’t seem to trouble Alec but it bothered him greatly. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but you were a shell of your former self, an anxious, meek little thing who looked nowhere near as happy as she should given she had found her mate. He had caught you in the kitchen once, tired from a day of studying Italian with Marcus as you had become want to do, berating yourself for dropping a pan on your toes while cooking. To say he was surprised to hear your cursing your ‘clumsy human hands’ was an understatement.

No, no Demetri was beyond suspicious, especially when you began to go ‘missing’ more frequently, looking more and more desperate each time he found you further and further out. You had fought him the last time he found you, pounding against his chest and begging him to not take you back. His concern had brought him in all good faith to Alec’s door while you slept one night.

“What can I do for you?” Alec asked, head tilting curiously. Demetri frowned.

“It’s about Y/N. I have some concerns, Alec.” He answered. Alec’s frown immediately depeened, his eyes growing darker.

“What concerns? Is she sick? She seemed fine when I left her to sleep.”

“No, no nothing like that, though I fear her mind may not be healthy. She seems…anxious, desperate to be out of the castle. Is there something going on Alec?” he asked. Alec’s already dark eyes turned black, the red leeching out of his irises so fast Demetri was almost shocked. His expression was cold as an arctic wind and his voice held little room for argument when he answered him.

“That is of no concern to you, she’s shared her worries with me already. You overstep Demetri, she’s my mate and I’ll care for her how I see fit.”

“I simply want to know if there is anything I can do to help. It’s no secret we care for the girl to Alec, let us help.” He frowned.

“What she needs from you, Demetri, is to be left the hell alone. Stop filling her head with poison. I know you talk at the fountain. She’s upset because you suggested she might be allowed to visit her family one day. They haven’t written to her in months, the false hope crushed her. Leave my mate to me and stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He snarled quietly. Demetri hissed quietly, his irritation flaring.

“What are you talking about? A letter arrived for her Tuesday gone.” He received a door to his face as his answer, the wood actually splintering a little with the force Alec slammed it with. He knew you had been getting letters frequently from the Cullen’s and your sister, he had seen some of them when the secretary was sorting the mail out, so why hadn’t you been getting them? If you were in such a deep spiral surely it was a contributing factor. The only thing he could think of was that the secretary hadn’t delivered them. But why? he flitted straight to her desk without another moment to spare, finding her packing up to leave for the evening. She jumped at his sudden appearance.

“Demetri, I didn’t see you there, how can I help you?” she was a new girl, the fourth one in the past two months, and he didn’t care to remember her name. His head tilted.

“You received a letter the other day for Y/N Swan did you not?” he questioned, leaning against her desk. She frowned, nodding.

“I did, I gave it to Alec to deliver, did it not reach her?” she asked, looking somewhat anxious now. Demetri paused, letting his mind work it over. So, Alec had been supposed to deliver that had he? How many more had he gotten his grubby little hands on? Demetri felt a quiet sense of horror dawn on him. It made a lot more sense suddenly, why you weren’t getting any of your family’s letters. Alec had taken them all to keep you from getting in touch with them. Was your silence towards himself and Felix the same? Orchestrated by Alec so not even you knew the real reason the three of you no longer spoke?

“Not on this occasion. Not to worry, thank you for your help, sweet thing.” He shot her a charming smile to mask his sudden anxiety and disappeared as quickly as he came, heading straight for the throne room. Maybe you hadn’t been going mad at all, maybe Alec was the one driving you insane…

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Caius growled, beyond annoyed with the way he had flung the door open in his haste. Demetri grimaced.

“My apologies Masters, but I need to talk to you urgently.”

You had to get out this time. The walls of old buildings scraped at your hands as you bolted down one alleyway after the next, swinging around corners and doing your best to stay upright as the cobblestones did their best to trip you. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your anxiety was at an all time high, panic attacks in the morning a common thing as you dreaded the day ahead – another day of disappointing Alec in all your human imperfection. There was no one you could turn to for comfort either, not with Demetri so busy all the time. He was less of a friend and more of a guard, dragging you back each time you left as Alec had promised you his duty as a guard entailed. The worst part was that you knew your feelings of inadequacy were completely unnecessary because you weren’t the one in the wrong, Alec was.

It had become more and more obvious he wasn’t letting you leave the castle, and sneaking out when you could became your one chance to see sunlight, to have any sort of freedom. When you’d tried to ask him about it he’d brushed you off again, telling you you were being silly and reminding you of all the times he’d taken you out to the Gardens, all the gifts you’d been given as apologies for missed opportunities to venture out into the world…but he’d been lying as long as you’d known him. Maybe he had learned to control his urges, but not his darkest impulses. Alec had wanted you all to himself and he had managed to succeed with his lies and deceit. It had been a complete accident, when you came across the mountain of lies he’d told. You had been waiting to surprise him (having stayed up to wait for him to finish his guard shift) when you spilt a glass of apple juice down your shirt. His closet was the closest place to find a replacement and it would hardly be the first time you’d taken a shirt of his.

The shrine in his closet was just too much.

Everything that had gone missing lay at an alter dedicated to you. Tears blurred your vision as the flash of ivory and familiar, scribbly writing permeated your mind once more. Letters – Bella’s letters. Your sister had never forgotten you. Alec had simply made you think she had. You had been right all along, the bundled-up letters proved as such, he had always been a monster. Selfish and ugly all the way to the core, Alec Volturi had never been your Prince Charming. How many other lies had he told? He’d isolated you until all you had was him, till you relied on him to get you through your day. No more. You tripped over your own feet, vision blurred by tears. The ground rushed up to meet you, a sharp sting ripping through your knee as you cried out, catching yourself with your hands before you could smash your face into the stone. Gasping for air, you tried desperately to fill your lungs, the rising hysteria making it difficult to steady your breathing. What if you couldn’t escape? Demetri always found you and he’d drag you back there, you knew he would. He couldn’t be allowed to find you, not this time, you had to keep moving and –

“Signorina?”

Your head snapped up, body scrambling to right itself despite the deep throbbing in your knee. A young man not too much older than yourself was slowly coming towards you, hands raised and expression concerned. He had a sort of roguish charm about him, tousled dark hair and equally as dark eyes (too lose to Alec’s angry onyx to be of any comfort) set in a tanned face. He had more colour to his skin than Alec could ever hope to have. With the sleeves of a plain white shirt rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone and smart pants on, he must have been coming home from a shift as a waiter perhaps, maybe a barista in one of the fancier coffee houses in town, but you didn’t trust him at all. How could you trust anyone when the one person you had relied on had been a lying, manipulative, deceitful little –

“S-stay back.” You stammered, scrambling to get to your feet now. The tear in your skin oozed fresh blood, dampening your skin and making you whimper. It wasn’t that it hurt necessarily, though it did sting terribly, it was more the fear that you knew what lurked in the shadows of Volterra and if anyone smelled that…well, Demetri was a hundred times more likely to find you now, wasn’t he?

“I don’t mean you any…erm…ah…hurt?” he tried, his accent thick and his English clearly not at the level of fluency. If you were in a better state of mind you’d be at least grateful he tried, however he was still approaching you and you didn’t enjoy his proximity when you needed to move. You had to keep going, had to get to a bus stop or a train station, something! Was there even a place like that in Volterra? There had to be right? You took a step away from him, your leg failing you so you half fell, half limped forward. His arms were around you in an instant and you screamed, wriggling desperately to fight him off.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Merda! Smettila di lottare!” (Shit! Stop fighting!) he cursed, tightening his grip on you. Legs flailing, you threw your head back in a desperate attempt to get him to let go, your skull protesting as bone crunched beneath it. His arms dropped and you darted forward, only for your knee to give way once more. With another loud curse the boy was on-top of you then, glancing around wildly to see if anyone had noticed your scuffle yet. His weight atop you was almost suffocating given how much trouble you had already had breathing, and tears filled your eyes as you wriggled to try and be free of him.

“Get off of me! Help!” you screamed. Blood dripped from his nose onto your cheeks, hot and thick and oozing slowly down your cheek. “Stop it!” Strong hands encircled your wrists, pinning them harshly to the stone beneath you. It dug into your spine uncomfortably and it became very clear very quickly you were not escaping this boy.

“Stop!” he snapped, muttering a few choice words in Italian you had heard Felix use once or twice. His expression was contorted into a mask of pain, his nose swollen but not broken and his body holding tight to your own to keep you from moving. Your struggling was only serving to make you brush against him though, and it was clear the effect it was having on him was not helping him decide to let you go. If you had been in your right mind, you would have understood this boy was only trying to help, stop you moving to ensure you didn’t hurt yourself further, but in the moment your reality was warped and far too terrifying for you to see sense.  

“Fuoco! Fuoco!” (Fire! Fire!) Your father had always taught you to tell fire rather than help, it attracted more attention he said. You didn’t attract the kind of attention you wanted. The boy was thrown off of you in a blur of movement, his body smashing into the brickwork of the house across from you. You heard the bones shattering, his ear-piercing scream ringing in your ears as a black cloak obscured his attacker. With or without the cloak you knew who it was, the smaller, lean stature, the ferocity with which he tore into his victim. You whimpered, eyes turning away from the poor boy. There was no way to help him now, not when Alec was busy popping his bones through his skin like one might spear a sausage with a cocktail stick at a party. Rolling to your front, you tried desperately to get your trembling limbs to cooperate, your hysterical screaming echoing off of the walls.

You had barely limped three steps when the screeching behind you abruptly cut away into a gurgling sound. Ice cold hands found your shoulders and you whirled desperately to try and fend Alec off, only to freeze at the sight of the poor, mangled boy behind you. His actions may not have been good, but he didn’t deserve to be folded in on himself like a human pretzel, bones poking out of his skin and blood gushing from an open wound on his throat. He was drowning in crimson, choked by the same saccharine liquid Alec was licking off of his thumb now, onyx eyes boring into your own with his usual apathetic expression hiding the pure mania in his eyes.

He hadn’t even fed, he’d killed the boy for sport.

“See what happens when you go out alone little human?” he asked. The bile rose in your throat too quickly to stop it and Alec obligingly held your hair as you turned to the side and threw up at your feet, hot acid burning the back of your throat and stomach churning violently. Panting, you kept your wide-eyed stare fixed on the cobblestones. Even then it wasn’t enough, a trail of blood slowly seeping its way towards you, descending downhill like some morbid snake writhing between the stones. You couldn’t keep the tears away this time as Alec’s breath, metallic with the scent of another man’s blood, sent a wave of dizziness over you.

“P-please…please d-don’t…I can’t…” your head spun, too many thoughts and feelings crashing and colliding and rendering you a stammering mess before you finally grew mute, your body growing cold. Alec held you tenderly, like you were the only thing in the world to him that mattered, his embrace as soft as cotton but cold, as though death itself had shrouded you. In the distant parts of your mind you recognised he was talking to you, but you didn’t dare listen. He was the serpent that tempted Eve, a voice of velvet spinning spider webs to ensnare you. Dimly, you noted that the boy’s blood was running past your toes now.

Was this how it ended for you? Had Alec finally had enough of your obedience training? Clearly it hadn’t worked. You felt filthy to the core for enjoying his embrace, but his arms were strong and held you when your legs couldn’t anymore, his honeyed words a balm to your aching soul, promising his own brand of everlasting love - the same brand he’d gotten you hopelessly addicted to. Even his scent made your head swim, fresh linen that should be so crisp and clear, refreshing, just drowned you further. Nobody would come for you now. Alec had finally gotten you in his grasp just as he wanted and you were far, far too tainted for anyone to save. The wounds his love had inflicted too deep, festering and rotting you from the inside out, and the worst part was, you had let it happen.

You had accepted every kind word, every smile, every present, every touch, as a gift bestowed on you that you were unworthy of. So blinded by the dazzling display of redemption were you you hadn’t seen beyond the surface of the superficial affection he laid at your feet, too enamoured with all he had become to see the old monster lingering in every smile and darkening of his eyes. Alec had never changed, he had simply wore you down, so when his frozen fingers pushed your jaw upward and to the left you didn’t fight, because deep down you knew you’d never stood a chance.

“It’s alright Y/N, you’re only human,” he whispered, “You can be forgiven for that…”

“How?” your voice cracked. Forgiveness seemed impossible. If Bella or your father or anyone you loved could see you now you knew forgiveness would not be the word on their lips. How could you be forgiven for letting yourself fall so far? How could you be forgiven for being the reason that poor boy didn’t go home tonight? He had chosen to try and help you and it had only gotten him brutally murdered. The only thing Alec had ever been right about was that you were only human. None of the terrible things that had happened to you or anyone surrounding you were your fault. The blame lay solely at Alec’s feet.

“By acknowledging your flaws and becoming something more.”

Somehow, despite all the evidence before you, you really hadn’t expected him to bite down. Some part of you still thought he was above that maybe. It was like lava pouring straight from his mouth into your veins, filling your wound until it spilled over and shot down your arms, through your torso, scorching your nerve endings. It spread rapidly and you couldn’t bite back the bloodcurdling scream that left you. Alec held you tight as your body jerked, trying to escape the inescapable, the agony was all internal, a fire consuming you from the inside out.

“Alec! Alec what did you do!”

“What I had to to protect my mate!”

“Good god Alec…”

“Look at this mess.” The voices were indistinguishable, heightened and then muted, blending and yet distinctive. Your vision was too blurred to figure out the faces behind the cloaks swarming you, ripping you from one cold embrace to the next. Everything was too hot and you couldn’t escape it, no way to tear yourself out of your own body as it was flooded with acid.

“Shhhh, shhh little human.”

“Demetri get her out of here before she draws attention to this scene.”

“D-D-De-“ you barely got half of his name out before another scream broke through your throat. You didn’t have the strength to hold it back, couldn’t feel the grip your friend had on you. The world was slipping away inch by inch as you drowned in a pool of molten fire, the surface disappearing and taking you with it. Maybe this was hell? Maybe your weakness had earned you a spot in eternal fire and torment and this was only the beginning of a very long forever?

“Just give in Y/N, let go, just let go.” Somewhere through the pain you were sure Demetri had said this to you, and you battered heart didn’t know how to take it. It beat erratically, every frantic thud hoping beyond hope it would take you closer to a reunion with Bella, with the Cullen’s, with anyone you held dear. Did Demetri just want you to fall unconscious or did he mean you to really let go? What did you have to wake up for in Volterra after all? Alec would never let you leave, that much was clear now. You tried to hold onto these thoughts, really debate them and use them to ground you and keep you there, but they scattered like ash with the rest of you as the fire built to a raging inferno and melted everything you ever were.

The intense agony was all you knew now. What else could you do? Trapped in your head your only option was to count the seconds between one wave and the next, each drowning bout of flame lapping at your soul, disintegrating who you were piece by piece. By the time the fire had started to recede you weren’t sure how much time had passed, if time even had meaning. You were amazed your heart had held out under the assault of venom. It started at your extremities, like something in your chest was winching the fire back in, but as the sweet and numbing relief of the cold crept in at your toes the fire in your heart burned hotter. A grunting sound was the first thing you’d heard beyond the screaming in your head for a while, and you realised it was you, desperately fighting back the cry building in your throat as the white hot core in your chest blazed through the last of your humanity.

By the time you slumped back down, your consciousness drifting back to you slowly, you were struggling to remember how you had gotten in this predicament in the first place. Where were you? Who was around you? You wanted Bella, oh you wanted your sister so badly. The air around you felt heavier on your skin, saturated with sharp scents that overpowered your nose and made your tongue tingle when you opened your mouth for that first gasp of air. Your eyes were next to snap open, immediately focusing on the cracks in the wooden beams and the stone ceiling, the dust mites floating in the air. There was an assault of noise next, voices chattering and laughing, birds twittering, cars honking and more, so much more. Hands flying up to your ears, you noticed how it felt different to move, more fluid somehow, and the bright shine in the corner of your eye mad you sit up and move your hand back towards the light.

It glittered. Your hand was crystal, reflecting light and throwing it against the walls where it shattered into rainbow patterns, dazzling your too focused eyes.

“Y/N?”

Danger. Danger danger danger danger danger –

“Felix, give her time…it’s alright young one, we are not here to harm you.” Another foreign voice. You moved so fast everything should have blurred, your body twisting and turning  agilely as you shot off of the soft mattress and hit the hard wall with crushing force, stone chipping and falling around you while you dug your nails into the natural rock of the wall. The noise that ripped from your throat was threatening, air rushing up from your lungs and pushing out between your teeth. It shocked you enough to make you freeze, brain scrambling to catch up because there was no way that noise had come from you. Wait, who were you again? Who were they? The voices seemed familiar, but different, their faces to. The men were beautiful in a way nobody should ever be allowed to be, the flawless planes of their faces also reflecting diamond light across the walls as one slowly crept closer to you. Another hiss of air escaped your throat, warning him to stay back.

“Now who needs to give her time.” Felix, that’s what he’d called him…Felix! Your mind dredged up the murky images on demand, and you couldn’t help but frown as you tried to clear the image in your head. It was like watching the memories flow through dirty water, Felix and Demetri helping decorate your room with you, avoiding you in the corridors, no longer talking to you because Alec –

Alec!

“No.” you whispered, startled again into standing up straight, hand flying to your throat as a foreign, bell-like voice rang out. Demetri paused, letting your wild eyes take in the room.

“He is not here Y/N, the Masters’ are punishing him for his…indiscretion, by making him miss your awakening.” Felix chose his words carefully as Demetri slowly continued forward. It was so hard to focus, so much noise, so much to see, so many thoughts spinning rapidly through your mind. It worked faster now, you noticed, your brain working at top speed in a way you knew you’d only achieve with a substantial amount of caffeine if you were still human. Thoughts of Alec consumed you. Where was he? What had become of the boy he had murdered? Would he be kinder to you now you were no longer human? No longer imperfect…

“Y/N, try to focus, I know there is a lot to process right now.” Demetri sounded apologetic almost and your eyes snapped to him.

“I want to go home.” You whispered. Even as you said the words there was an uncomfortable tug in your gut, like something sharp had nicked at your intestines almost. The idea made you uncomfortable.

“What you need right now is to feed.” Demetri amended, his hand gentle on your arm. His words started an inferno in your throat. It was like the worst sore throat you’d ever had multiplied ad infinitum, the burn scorching from top to bottom while your gut twisted horribly. You weren’t just hungry, you were starving.

“Of course that’s what she needs, what newborn doesn’t?” the voice was smooth, so hypnotic you couldn’t help but relax, silently pleading to hear more. If your blood hadn’t already frozen over, you swore it would have upon seeing Alec again. He held what you assumed was the secretary in his arms, given her smart attire, but it was difficult to focus on little else other than the thrumming of her pulse, the tattoo in your brain even more hypnotising than his voice had been. Neither Demetri nor Felix could catch you as you dipped beneath their arms and snatched the body straight out of Alec’s hands, desperate to stop the burning in your throat.

“Y/N don’t!” Demetri’s voice sounded far off, almost like you were listening to him through cotton wool. The sound of blood flowing, a heart thumping…it was far far louder. Your body moved on autopilot, teeth clamping onto soft flesh. After that first burst of sweet, hot blood, your mind went completely blank. The taste was sublime, so intense on your tastebuds like nothing else had ever been. It soothed the fire in your throat some, a torrent of red dousing the flames and soaking your skin. When you could no longer take mouthfuls of the saccharine substance, a needy whine bubbled up in your throat, the tap running dry far too soon for your liking. Your throat still itched.

“Shhhhhh, I know, I know. Do not worry my love, we’ll find you more.” That voice, that hypnotic voice…with the fire in your throat calmed somewhat it was clearer in your ears, helping to ease your desperation and focus your mind some. The fingers in your hair were gentle, the occasionally brush of their skin against yours warm and inviting. You leaned into the tender touch gratefully. There was a scent too, the most intoxicating, fresh linen and pine scent, a hint of something smoky lingering underneath. Inhaling deeply, you let strong arms pull you into a firm chest, taking in lungfulls of that heady scent and letting your turbulent thoughts calm to the rhythm of the fingers running through your hair.

“Alec…”

You gasped slightly, eyes snapping open from your half-lidded gaze. The name had filled you with fear, trepidation, but the sensations surrounding you right now…you were in a safe, hazy little bubble, it was difficult to feel the fear you thought you should. You had totally forgotten he was even in the room and it was no small shock to you that he was the one holding you, that he had created this internal sense of tranquillity you were drowning in.  

“I will not let my mate starve, the Masters’ and their punishment be damned.” The smooth bass of a sprightly young voice that filtered in your ears was so similar yet so different. Alec’s voice was nothing short of mesmerising and when you looked up at him his face was just as distracting. Smooth, flawless skin, pale as the moonlight on ocean waves, stretched like an unblemished canvas across high cheekbones and a strong jaw. You could trace the perfect curve of dark eyebrows with your finger, run your hands through the soft tresses of dark hair that framed his face and brushed his eyes. Crimson red eyes peered into your own, softened by adoration and desire.

It was as if your very heart burst forth from your chest to reach out to his. You never wanted anyone else to look at you the way Alec did. Suddenly, nothing he did had mattered, because you were the imperfect one before. This man before you…you saw it now with your new eyes, saw his God-like status for what it really was. You had been unworthy until now. He had elevated you to the same status, was able to love you deeply now.

“Alec.” You breathed his name like it was a quiet prayer. His fingers moved from your hair to your jaw, slowly tracing over your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Welcome back. You are…you’re breath taking.” He gently lowered his forehead to yours and you pushed back lightly, desperate to envelop yourself in the warmth his skin now radiated.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Of course.” Alec promised. You closed your eyes, drowning in his heavenly scent.

“Y/N…you’ll need to feed some more. Perhaps we can then contact the Cullen’s and see about getting you home. We don’t usually allow newborns to stay in the castle.” Demetri spoke up finally, shattering the peaceful quiet surrounding you. That pinching sensation in your gut was back again, your eyes widening. Alec had finally accepted you! You were finally good enough and Demetri just wanted to – to send you away? No. No absolutely not. Any thoughts of going home that you had once entertained were long gone. You couldn’t leave now, not when you had to show Alec how grateful you were, how you were better now like this.

“Do I have to go?” you whispered. Alec shook his head.

“Of course not Y/N, your place is here, with me.” His lips were so soft on your own, a shiver rolling down your spine at the rightness of it. He was your perfect fit. You were made for all of his light and dark, to bear the brunt of his best and worst. You hadn’t been before, but you were ready now, ready to survive his obsession.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite.

Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Friar Lawrence, Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 6, by William Shakespeare

[littlemissagrafina]

Comfortember Day 5. Cuddle + Day 7. Blanket Fort

We Hold Each Other So Tight (they couldn't break us if they tried)

@comfortember

Read on AO3

Tony and Peter were inseparable. They had been ever since Tony had adopted Peter after May's death. He had helped the grieving teen through the heartache and loss of the last true remaining member of his family. May was Peter's mother even if he had never called her that. It was what they both felt.

And then it was taken from him and he didn't know what to do. Peter thought he'd gotten used to losing the people that he loved but this was different, felt different, than the other times.

This was a loss with finality, a loss that truly broke Peter, and it broke Tony's heart to see his kid have to lose someone else. Tony stood by him though, he stayed and he loved Peter. He showed him that he hadn't lost everyone, hadn't lost all his family but had gained a new one. And that new one never replaced the one he lost, never ignored what the family Peter once knew had done for him. They only loved him and comforted him in his pain and loss.

Slowly his loss became bearable and the heartache eventually lessened. It was no less strong but, just like the other times, it became easier for Peter to go on with everyday. He started smiling more, laughing more. He put the Spider-Man suit back on and slowly became more of his old self.

And through it all Tony had stood by Peter's side. He had guided him, helped him, and became the father that the billionaire wished he could have had.

They spent as much time as they could together, squeezing in lab days, movie nights, and any random thing they could think to do together. They were never apart when they had the chance to be in one another's company.

Those chances disappeared completely when Tony was called in for a mission with Steve, Nat, and Sam. The only four available at the time to be called to mission.

So they left, Tony promising Peter that he would be home in a few days, just in time for the younger hero's academic decathlon competition.

Peter waited those days for his dad to return, occasionally sharing messages to him through FRIDAY but otherwise not able to get in direct contact with him. Peter's senses flared two days after Tony left but he brushed it aside, thinking it was anxiety as it sometimes triggered his spider sense (especially when it was to do with Tony.)

The day for the team of four to arrive back home came and went with no sign of the quinjet that they left on.

Rhodey and Pepper tried to reassure Peter that Tony was fine, that they were probably just held up a bit. Peter knew it wasn't true. He knew that was what they wanted to believe but he couldn't, his senses hadn't lied to him yet.

Tony wasn't home and Peter had no idea where he was.

---

Pepper

Pepper knew that Peter was anxious, that he was scared, but she didn't know what to do. As much as Tony joked that she knew everything, she didn't.

She didn't know how to find Tony, she didn't know how to comfort Peter and tell him that Tony would be fine because she didn't know if he would. She'd been here before with Afghanistan. It wasn't the same but she couldn't help but immediately go back to that time. The stress and fear coming back too.

Pepper didn't know how to keep her worry and fear from Peter, how to help ease his own worry and fear.

She wasn't close with Peter like Tony was, she didn't have that same intense connection the two shared, but she loved him. Boy, did she love him.

In the past years of getting to know Peter through Tony and then adopting him with said man after May's passing had allowed Pepper to grow to love him like her own.

She would never try to take Mary or May's place but she was so grateful to be given the chance to care for Peter.

Which is why when Peter knocked on the door of her and Tony's room later that same night the team never arrived with fear in his eyes and his shoulders hunched, she let him in immediately. She didn't remind him he was always allowed in their room because she knew he didn't need that extra reassurance as he usually did.

What Peter needed was to be held, to be loved and sheltered. So Pepper did. She pulled Peter close to her and squeezed him in her embrace as he lay with his head on her shoulder. She whispered assurances of love, that she would never leave him and knew that Tony wouldn't either. Not if it was in either of their power.

Pepper cuddled with her son for the rest of night because that's what he was, her son. She hadn't raised him, hadn't watched him grow, but she loved him. She held him and protected him from his nightmares.

And she would do it until Tony was returned to them

---

Ned, MJ, Harley

Peter had been subdued ever since Tony, Sam, Steve, and Nat had dropped from satellite, communications, and missed their arrival date. He became quiet, withdrawn, he didn't even pass notes to Ned a single time during their biology class.

No one knew how to handle it and they couldn't fault him for the way he was feeling right now. Not for a second. Peter had lost every single true family member that he had and now one half of his adopted parents was missing.

Ned, Harley, and MJ had tried as many ways of trying to distract Peter and give him a bit of happiness but none of what they tried was really working.

Until Peter came to school in a hoodie that he had obviously taken from Tony's closest if the MIT logo was anything to go by.

MJ sent Pepper a message in the fine art class that she had alone from the three loser boys she somehow claimed as friends. And yes, she had the number of the coolest women ever.

MJ relayed the idea to Pepper, who immediately jumped at it and offered to get them the snacks and blankets they needed. She presumably disappeared to do that before MJ could say that it wasn't necessary even though it kinda was. Obviously it's my friend who would have a bottomless pit for a stomach.

And so Peter was greeted with the sight of blankets piled on one of the couches as he walked out of the penthouse elevator with Ned, Harley, and MJ close behind him.

When he saw the mountain of snacks and drinks on the coffee table, Peter stopped in his tracks, a confused frown on his face before he was being jerked forward by MJ and Harley's arms hooking over his elbows.

"C'mon, Loser. We're building a blanket for, watching whatever we can find on Netflix, and eating enough sweets and snacks that we pass out."

And if MJ said they were going to do something… well, they did it.

Peter felt a warmth building in his chest, spreading across his body from its center in his heart. He was still worried, terrified, but the fact that his friends took this time from their day to do something to make him happy was enough to make him want to cry.

Later, once their fort was built and they all lay cuddled together in it with the TV playing softly and their snacks mostly eaten, Peter sat up a bit from where he was propped against a pillow.

He looked at his friends for a moment and they all saw the clear gratitude in his eyes, even though it was shadowed by his worry for Tony and the others.

"Thank you, guys. You didn't have to but… thank you."

"Always, darlin'." Harley murmured from the top of their blanket fort cuddle nest they had made inside of it.

Ned and MJ echoed him with their own affirmations.

A moment passed in silence before, almost as one, they all moved closer together, pulling blankets and pillows with them until they were all curled around Peter.

They stayed in their fort for the rest of the night as they watched movies and ate until they eventually did pass out in a pile together.

---

Happy

Happy was no stranger to the hyperactive, anxious ways in which both Peter and Tony thought, the way their minds would sometimes fix on a train of thought or topic and little would be able to distract them. Usually those ways tended to bring brilliance with them, a new high tech range for one of SI's many products from Tony or a new web formula or combination from Peter.

But there were also times where their minds instead chose to get stuck on the trails of darkness and anxiety that seeped through the two geniuses minds.

That time happened to be now. Why it had to be now, Happy knew was for a lot of reasons, but he wasn't entirely comfortable that it happened with him around. Yeah, he had really come to care for Peter since he got the chance to get to know him better, but the care had especially grown after the kid was adopted by Tony.

The problem was that his care didn't magically give him the emotional range and ability to really help Peter during a spiral like Tony, Pepper, or even the kid's friends could.

But here he was, kneeling in front of Peter as the kid tried and failed to hold in his tears. "What if he doesn't come back? What if– what if I lose him like I lost May? I don't have anyone else!" Peter hiccuped out, losing the battle as hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Hey!" Happy said sternly but Peter could hear the slight hint of the stoic man's care and worry shine through. Happy gently grasped Peter's arms. "Tony will be okay. He will fight tooth and nail to get back to you, Kid. I know that for sure. And even if he isn't, and something does happen, you are not alone, you hear me?" He brushed a hand over his face and sighed. "Dammit, Peter. You know I'm not good at this. You have us all, okay? Pepper, Rhodey, me, your friends and the rest of the team. I know that we're not May or Tony but you have us and you always will."

Peter, whose tears had allowed slightly as Happy spoke, didn't trust himself to talk in case he started crying again. He just looked at Happy and nodded, hoping that the man would understand without him having to use words.

Happy understood.

Shit, I feel like I'm breaking out in hives. Ah, man. He's looking at me with those damn Bambi eyes.

"Ah man. Okay, c'mere kid." Happy sighed and gently pulled Peter forward with the hands he still gently held the teen's arms with. Before he could even let himself regret it, Happy was smothered with an arm full of Spider Teen. He slightly awkwardly patted Peter's back and wrapped his arms around him.

It was weird as hell but Happy hoped he was doing it right. Whatever it was.

Clearing his throat and pulling away, Happy let his arm stay around Peter's shoulders. "We've got you, Peter. It'll all be okay. Tony will be home and then we can never tell him about this, yeah? He'll never let me live it down that I willingly hugged you."

Peter gave a slightly wet chuckle, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his MIT hoodie. "I'll keep it a secret for blackmail material."

There he is. Happy thought as Peter cracked the joke. His sass and humour had vastly diminished and Happy had been starting to wonder if he would ever hear it enough to roll his eyes at again.

It was a relief to hear it even though there was still an underlying sadness and fear in Peter's very self.

Come back, Tony. Your kid needs you.

---

+1. Tony

Peter lay in his room on a Saturday night two weeks after Tony, Steve, and Nat were supposed to have returned.

He hated how he couldn't stop thinking about them, how his mind wouldn't rest and how it brought up endless scenarios of what could have gone wrong.

He hated how he always felt seconds away from crying, how he just wanted a hug from the one person that he could get one from.

Peter lay in his room on that Saturday night, not knowing how long he did until he finally was able to fall asleep.

---

Peter woke up the next morning feeling as if he hadn't slept at all. He sat and had breakfast in silence, ignoring the concerned looks that Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey shot at him.

After he had helped clean up, he practically stumbled to the living room and curled up on one of the couches. The couch that he and Tony always shared.

No, stop thinking.

Peter buried his face into the sleeves of the hoodie that he was burrowed into, trying to drown out his mind.

It didn't work. All it did was hurt more when he realised that he couldn't smell the scent of cologne and motor oil that once clung to the hoodie. He didn't even have that comfort to remind him of his dad anymore. Vaguely he thought of going to steal one from Tony and Pepper's room but he didn't have the energy.

Just like the night before, Peter lay on the couch, his mind pulling him in circles for he didn't know how long before he was able to escape in his sleep.

---

Hands shaking him gently was the first thing that Peter felt as he started waking up. The next was a familiar, irregular heartbeat and the smell that was so missing from his hoodie, from the living quarters around him.

Cologne and motor oil.

Tony.

His dad.

Peter darted up from the couch, launching himself into Tony's arms as a sob ripped through his chest.

"It's okay, my love, I'm home. I'm here." Tony murmured, tears choking up his own voice as he hugged Peter as close to him as he could. Sobs and cries shook Peter's shoulders and it broke Tony's heart.

"Please don't leave me again!" Peter whimpered, hot tears trailing down his cheeks as he pressed his forehead into Tony's shoulder. "Please don't go!"

"I won't, Petey. Not without a fight. I'm not going anywhere if I can ever help it. You're my kid, my son, and I will always try to come home to you. No matter what." Tony said vehemently despite the tears still streaming down his own face.

They would have to talk later once Peter had calmed enough. Tony had to explain why he took so long to come home, to contact anyone, but that was for later.

Now, all he wanted was to hold his child. So he did. He held Peter, hugged him and cuddled him until both their tears had stopped falling and their hurt hearts started to warm.

"I'm here."

[rogerslovesstark]

Me and You, Forever

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Angst, Fluff

Words: 3k

Disclaimer: literally my longest fic. 

You and Bucky first met during Hydra in late 2012, they had you working on a new super-soldier program, however, you were unaware of the true use of the tech because they had kept you in the dark. Once you heard Bucky screaming in the lab, his handlers wiping his memory again, you realized that you needed to help him.

While you couldn’t get him out of the facility, you brought him apple slices and tangerines sometimes other times you brought chamomile tea. One day you were tasked with reprogramming his arm after one of his missions, he had been freshly wiped and you were anxious about his reaction towards you.

“Soldat, it's me,” You whispered to not startle him, a cup of tea in one hand, for him. His back was facing you, the broadness of his back, the red scars along his back, especially around his shoulder. You pitied the poor man, he had no choice in any of this.

He slowly turned around to face you, a blank face and dead eyes. The blank grey walls, mattress on the floor, a door in the left corner of his room, a small barred window with little sunlight, the harsh florescent lights, a single chair, his room was depressing, to say the least.

“I’m here to reprogram your arm, this is some tea for you,” You say softly to keep from triggering him. He stays still and just stares at you. You look into his eyes and you see that he is watching you with curiosity and familiarity. You slowly walk towards him, all the equipment already in the room from previous officers bringing them in after wiping him.

He finally sat in his chair and watched as you moved around the room, you handed him his tea and started to set up the equipment. You turned to look at him and he was staring at the tea in his hand. You raise an eyebrow at him in question.

“You put something in this tea, that’s why you gave it to me,” He grumbles and puts the tea on the floor, in front of him. You walk towards the tea and he tenses up, sitting up straight, hands quickly forming fists. You put your hands up as a sign of peace, you wouldn’t do any harm to him.

You pick up the tea and take a large sip out of the cup, swallowing, and then opening your mouth to show him the tea had been swallowed. You felt hurt that he would think that you would ever harm him, however, all his handlers had harmed him so he wouldn’t know who to trust.

“I’m not here to hurt you Soldat, I know they hurt you, and I want to help you, but I can’t get you out of here because you are their asset and they would realize that you went missing, so I try to bring a small sense of comfort to you,” You say walking slowly towards him until you’re in front of him.

He watches you with eyes filled with curiosity, none of this made sense to him, why weren’t you hurting him, were you going to use him for something else, perhaps a mission of your own. He ran through all the scenarios in his head of what you possibly want from him. You hadn’t moved from where you were, just stretching your hand out for him to take the teacup. He reluctantly takes it.

You quickly get to work and stay through most of the night fixing his arm, he never moves, only lifting his arm to take a sip of his tea. You smell like vanilla and roses, your skin soft and face so pretty. He feels his heart thump in his chest as your hand brushes along his scars accidentally. You hadn’t tried anything all night. Just humming a soft tune and working on the arm.

+++++++

Another two weeks had passed, you continually brought him books to read, tea for sleeping, small meaningless talks to keep him company. You snuck into his room every night for your 30 minutes of lunch. The two of you wouldn’t really speak, you would just read to him and try to help him remember whatever Hydra wiped away.

“Why do you work for them?” He asked quietly, scared that the handlers would realize that you were in here when you weren’t supposed to be. You smile softly at him, squeezing one of his knees.

“I don’t, they forced me to work for them, my father did and he told them that I studied engineering in school, so they told me that I would work for them or they would kill my father, so here I am.” You whispered, staring into his icy blue eyes, wondering what he was thinking.

“They ended up killing him anyway, so it didn’t matter what I chose,”

++++

“What’s your name?” He asked you a week later. You looked up at him, smiling a toothy smile.

“Y/n,” You say, waiting for him to tell you his name. He just nods and returns to reading his book. Your eyebrows furrow and you sit up from the mattress.

“What’s your name?” You ask him, his eyebrows scrunch together and a deep frown sets into his face. His eyes become blank and your heart breaks after what he says.

“I don’t know”

++++

“Wipe him again, we need him for the assassination” Pierce booms, The Asset's face was blank but you could tell by his eyes that. Pierce was a cold son of a bitch who didn’t care for anyone except Hydra. Once you tried to explain to him that The Asset couldn’t go into cryo because the new technology that was developed would be ineffective, he backhanded you in front of all the other officers.

You never refer to them as co-workers, or friends, just officers. You were being held here against your will for the past 3 years. You didn’t want this, you wanted to live and see your family again. You were only allowed out of the facility with an officer by your side, once a week for 8 hours max. You and the Asset were both victims of Hydra.

++++

“I’ve developed something, it's for you” You whisper to him, you’ve been meeting for the past 9 months and this awkward friendship has begun to blossom. He would go into cryo for only a week, and you were always so lonely. So one week, you develop an algorithm that would reverse the brain wipe for him, not completely, just whatever was recently erased.

“What is it?” He asked curiously.

You began to explain that algorithm to him, trying to get him to understand that this would help him, not hurt him, but he didn’t understand.

“No, get out, you just want to hurt me, get out,” He seethes at you. You work for them, he still isn’t sure if he can trust you yet. Sure you bring tea, and read books, spend 30 minutes with him every day, which he looks forward to every single day; can you be trusted though?

“Soldat, please,” You begin to put a hand of his nonmetal shoulder. It happened so quickly you didn’t even realize what happens until you felt pain radiate down your back. He had dislocated your shoulder and pinned you to the floor. Tears sprung into your eyes and a sob rips from your throat as the pain becomes too much to handle.

You feel like you can’t move, he watches from above you, not knowing what to do, but seeing you crying and in pain is breaking his heart, he regrets putting his hands on you immediately.

“I-I-I-I’m s-sorry,” He whispers to you, you were cradling your arm in your hand and you rush to the door, trying to get away from him as quickly as possible. Before he could go to you, you were out the door.

“No, please don’t go…” He whispers.

++++

He doesn’t see you for almost two weeks and he is beginning to go insane. No more small talks, no more tea, no more apple slices or tangerines, no more reading to him, no more trying to explain some mathematical theory to him even if he doesn’t understand the concept. He just loved listening to the sound of your voice, your sweet presence in his room, even for those limited 30 minutes.

He had begun to spiral, having nightmares about hurting you, the one person who was kind to him while they were all so cruel. You, so sweet and cute, being so nice to him, just gone, you avoided him at all costs. Relocating your shoulder back into your socket was by far the most painful experience of your life.

You worked in the lab most of the time, and the 30 minutes that you had free, you still stayed in the lab. You missed him, but you were too scared of him right now, he had hurt you badly and you were horrified of him right now.

++++

Captain America had taken down Hydra 3 months later. You were finally free. You went to go to your family's home, only to find no one there, except a note that took you to a gravesite, two graves side by side, your mother, and your father. Both had the same exact death dates. You cried at their graves for 2 hours, mourning the loss of both of your parents.

He watched you from afar, watching you cry was breaking his heart, but he was so happy to see you were okay. He hadn’t seen you since the day the hurt you, still regretting what he had done, he walks over to you.

“Y/n?” You heard a voice whisper. Your head snaps up to see his beautiful blue eyes. You cry even harder when he falls to his knees and hugs you to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you continue sobbing into his shirt.

“Come on,” He whispers.

++++

You figure out his name at the Smithsonian. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky was his nickname. Reading everything he had done during the war, he felt like a fraud, knowing all the horrible things he had done. You walk through the museum hand in hand, he was all you had.

“Him, that was the guy who I fought,” Bucky said lowly, trying to maintain his cover. The blonde man staring back at him, Bucky felt anxious looking at his photograph, ‘Steve’ had been his best friend and they were both 95 because of some freak experiments done on them.

“We need to get out of this country,” Bucky whispered in your ear. You look up at him, not realizing that you were both slowly leaning towards each other until you felt his breath on your face. He looked for your lips to your eyes, silently asking for permission to kiss you.

You placed your lips against his soft ones, molding together and you put your hands slowly against his scruffy cheeks, cupping his face. He brings his hands to the middle of your back, holding you close to him, he didn’t know what he was doing but he went along with whatever you were doing.

You slide your tongue across his lower lips, asking for permission, and he grants it, tongues twisting around each other, your hands go up into his hair in fists and his flesh hand comes up to your neck and squeezes softly, not to hurt you, but to show you who is in control.

You pull away breathless and you smile at him, feeling a little dizzy from the small takeout you just had.

His heart was beating a little quicker looking at your now swollen lips, still tasting you on his lips, he pulls you back towards him, placing his lips on you, arms wrapped around you, pressing you against his chest.

You pull away from Bucky when you hear some kids yelling “EWWW” from across the exhibit. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you out of the museum.

++++

You and Bucky found a cheap apartment in Romania, even though you didn’t know the language, Bucky taught you. Both of you would sit on the balcony, you in his lap, and read to him as you did a few years ago. He would play with your hair and constantly place kisses on your shoulder, always apologizing for hurting you and that he would never do it again.

You smile at him, you had been in Romania for almost 2 years now, and for the past two years, you had both fallen madly in love with each other. You were Bucky’s solace, his sweetheart, the light of his dark light.

Everything you did, Bucky swore you were more of an angel than you were before. You could do no wrong, and Bucky was your happy place, cute little jokes, watching movies on the CD player you found, getting him caught up on the new time. You pitied him whenever you would make a reference joke and he would just look at you confused and lost.

You got a job teaching math at an elementary school and Bucky got a job at a lumber yard. You called him your lumberjack and he would always chuckle and kiss your forehead. The small apartment was home, even if you were tight on money.

You were teaching when another teacher had come in to show you the newsreels. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Your Bucky, he wouldn’t do that, there was no way, how could he have bombed a building in Germany when he went to get plums at the market. Once the school day was over, you rushed to your apartment, only to find it a huge mess.

You couldn’t open the door, the table you had just bought was jammed into the door, you managed to climb over it and saw the mess inside your apartment, horrified, but

Where was Bucky?

Bucky was calm in his cell, thinking of the wonderful two years he had with you. He wrote a quick note before they got him, hoping you would find it under the sheets of your small bed.

You begin to start cleaning everything up, tears streaming down your face because you didn’t know what happens to Bucky, shaking the bed sheets you see a small piece of paper.

N/n, it wasn’t me, stay there, I’ll be home soon. I love you always - Your Bucky

You start heavily sobbing, not knowing the next time you’re going to see him again. Your Bucky, taken by the police, wrongly accused of something he didn’t do.

++++

After three days, your apartment was back in tiptop shape, like nothing ever happen. Your bed was cold every night, you missed Bucky’s warmth, even if his metal arm was cold, you still managed. Trying to desperately fall asleep because you had to go to work tomorrow, you hear rapid knocking on your door.

You grab a knife from the kitchen and slowly walk to the door, only to reveal Captain America waiting for you. You were so shocked that you dropped the knife and stood staring at him.

“Hi, I’m Steve, Bucky’s friend, he’s asking for you,” Steve said calmly. You reached up and smacked him on his cheek. His face was shocked, to say the least.

“That’s for Germany,”

++++

“Baby,” Bucky says once he sees you come off the plane Steve trailing behind you. Bucky runs as fast as he could towards you. Four days without you were like hell for Bucky, only you could bring him the comfort he needs now more than ever. He remembers everything, all of the kills, every brain wipe, the pain of waking up with a detached limb.

You run into his hug and breathe in his masculine smell. Four days without your lover being around felt so sickening. You hug him so tightly, and he walks back towards the palace, only stopping to let you say hello to the king and thanking him for everything he was doing for the two of you.

You get a nice room in the palace, a beautiful view of one of the most advanced cities in the world. Bucky barely lets you have a look around the place before he takes you to bed and ravishes you till the sun rises.

++++

“Wheres the fight?” Bucky asks T’Challa. You see a metal arm in a box and immediately know what is about to happen. You walk over to Bucky and pull him back towards the hut, smiling and waving at T’Challa. Once inside, you hug him tightly to you, knowing he was going to be very upset to have to fight again.

“You don’t have to, you know?” You whisper into his ear, running your hand over his sweaty dirty hair. He just stands there, arm around your waist holding you close.

“You need a shower, your hair is so oily, it's disgusting,” You say to him. He just rolls his eyes and kisses your lips chastely.

++++

“Bucky? Baby? Where are you?” You say after opening your eyes. You felt kind of dizzy and weird, like everything felt so strange. A huge portal opened up suddenly and you scream. What the fuck is going on?

“Babe, come on,” You see Bucky on the other side. You jump through and hug him, you look around to see so many people surrounding you.

“Buck, what is happening?”

Then you hear Steve scream, “Avengers… Assemble”

++++

The war was over. Both of you were gone for five years and you didn’t even notice. Tony and Natasha were gone, Steve went back to the 40s and left Bucky here. That might have hurt him the most. You could tell that he was hurting at the idea of Steve leaving, not staying with him and being the one person who could really relate to him.

Bucky held you close, not wanting to let you go and Steve talked to Sam. You felt his throat bobbing and you turned to cup his face, his eyes watery. Bucky couldn’t contain himself, feeling like he wasn’t enough for anyone.

“Please don’t leave me, you’re all I have left,” He whispered into your ear. Tears well up in your eyes, you hug him as tight as possible.

“Never, me and you, forever,” You smile at him and kiss him. It would all be okay in the end.

[allsassnoclass]

Ooooo 48 for mashton for the prompts maybe?

alright alright alright this took a long time because I got distracted by dinner, washing dishes, and then a movie (whoops)

48. I called you at 2 am because I need you

Ashton shifts again and tries to take a few deep breaths, but the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach doesn't lessen.  It's been building for a few days, this weight that keeps amplifying the negative voices in his head the second he turns out the light.  Things are going well: there's no reason for the feeling of dread that's making his shoulders tense up constantly.  Even so, he can't seem to get rid of it.

You are not worthless.  You are doing enough.  You deserve every piece of success that you've gotten and you are loved by those around you.

Ashton repeats it in his head like a mantra.  The words feel empty.

It's been a while since he's had a night like this, but a few bad reviews of the album and some offhand comments on Twitter apparently were enough to help trigger it.  Added to the fact that his exercise routine has been slipping, sleep has become elusive, and he's got about 200 unanswered emails of everyone trying to coordinate promo and lock in details for tour, he can see how the spiral started.  That doesn't mean he has any better idea on how to end it.

He's reaching for his phone before he fully processes the action, barely glancing at the time before dialing and pressing it to his ear.

Michael picks up almost immediately, and it lessens some of the pressure in his chest.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mike.  Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, I wasn't asleep yet," Michael says.  Ashton can hear the rustle of sheets on the end of the line.  While he maybe hadn't woken Michael fully, a few minutes later and he probably could have.  A twinge of guilt zips through his veins.

"What's up?" Michael asks.

"Nothing much," Ashton answers automatically.  Michael snorts.  "Sorry.  You don't have to talk to me.  I can hang up and you can go to bed."

"Ash, you already called.  You might as well tell me what's wrong."

"It's just a bad night."

Michael takes a breath.  Ashton can hear him shifting again.

"Are you safe?"

"Yeah.  I'm not going to do anything stupid, I just feel shitty."

"Okay.  I'm coming over."

"No, you don't have to--"

"I want to," Michael interrupts.  "Please?  Can I come over?"

Ashton can't really resist Michael when he uses that tone of voice.

"Okay."

"Do you want to talk about it now or do you want to hear about my day until I get there?"

"Your day," Ashton says.  Michael stays on the line and gives Ashton a complete play by play of what he did, starting with how his back hurt when he woke up and ending with a detailed description of the game he played before getting in bed.  He lets the words wash over him, drowning out the negative thoughts he'd been plagued with.  He makes himself get up to unlock the door, and then Michael is right there on his doorstep, hanging up his phone and giving Ashton a once-over.

"Want a hug?" he asks.  Ashton nods.

Ashton likes how Michael hugs.  It doesn't feel suffocating, but he's a solid presence against him, warm and comforting and letting Ashton know that there's someone else who can hold him up if he needs.

"Come on," Michael says, nudging him further inside.  He's wearing pajama pants and his hair is a bit messy, a fingerprint smudge on his glasses.  He looks soft.  Ashton wants another hug, and this time he doesn't want to let go.

Michael leads the way to Ashton's room, pulling him under the covers and turning on his side to face him.

"So?" he prompts after a minute.  Ashton wants to brush his hair out of his eyes, so he does.  Michael takes his hand and holds it between them, warm and soft and comforting.

The dam breaks and Ashton releases everything that's been building up inside of him.  Michael doesn't interrupt, just silently watches him and occasionally squeezes his hand.  That's something he loves about Michael: he understands that sometimes feelings need to be released, regardless of what he's saying or how true these thoughts may be.

When he finally falls silent, exhausted but a bit lighter, Michael squeezes his hand again.

"I love you," he says.  "You're a necessary part of the band, and you keep us all together.  We put out a good fucking album, and you deserve to feel proud of what you've done.  Tomorrow we can get started on chipping away at some of those emails together.  It's going to be okay."

Michael doesn't lie to him.  Tonight, his words ease even more of the weight off of him.

"Thanks," he says.

"Think you can sleep?" Michael asks.  Ashton nods.  "Do you want to cuddle, or do you want space?  I'm a great cuddler, as you know, and you're very cuddly as much as you try to deny it."

Ashton hates asking to be held, but he has no qualms about turning over and tugging Michael's arms around him until they're pressed together, back to front.  Michael spits some of his hair out of his mouth and slots their legs together.

Ashton feels the last of his heaviness dissolve and finally slips off to sleep.

[amandaoftherosemire]

Sing For Me - Chapter Thirty-one

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OFC (Sasha)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC Sasha

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,337 (WTF, Amanda?)

Format: Series (Complete)

Warning: Smut, 18+ only, angst, fluff. Trigger warning: allusions to rape, sexual abuse, mentions of violence and murder, abandonment of children, abuse.

Summary: Sasha tries to meditate. Bucky interrupts.

A/N: Not consistent with Marvel canon. Wow! This chapter turned out way, way longer than I intended. I couldn’t stop, though, because the lovely and amazing @hellzzzbelle made the beautiful banner up top and completely inspired me. Thank you, gorgeous!! Hey, everyone! Love her! 😊

 Sing For Me Masterlist

Chapter Thirty here

Chapter Thirty-one

Sasha sat on top of her meditation table and stared out over the horizon. She'd pulled her hair out of its bun because she wanted to feel the wind in it, but she rarely did so anymore. When she was indoors, she couldn't stand the feel of her own hair on her skin. She had taken her therapist's advice and refused to worry about it. It had only been a few weeks; she wasn't going to get better overnight.

Neither was Zoe, but she had the best child psychiatrists money could buy, thanks to Tony. Also, thanks to Tony, Zoe's adoption was being pushed through in record time. He'd thrown money at lawyers, called in favors, and only he (and Steve due to the need for his cooperation in a bribe) knew what else to get Zoe the stability she needed as quickly as possible. Though it was only Sasha's name on the paperwork, The Avengers were adopting Zoe.

The adoption was also going through without a hitch. Sasha had a squeaky-clean record, aside from a penchant for speeding. Her only brush with the law could not be used against her as her actions had been deemed justifiable. As Sasha was technically Zoe's next of kin, no one could argue she didn't have the right. With Tony's money and Steve's support behind her, she was unstoppable.

Hell, she wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap Zoe if they wouldn’t let her adopt the little girl. Sasha gave literally no fucks. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Zoe needed her. If nothing else good could come of everything that had happened, she'd make damn sure Zoe had everything Sasha could give her, even down to a superhero family.

Sasha realized now, seeing the events of her parents’ lives through Valentin’s sick and obsessive eyes, how lucky she’d been to be the firstborn. If it had been possible for her and Zoe’s mother to love anyone, it seemed she had once loved their father, Luis. Sasha had been born during that time, and Alexandra had made sure to find a loving family for their daughter to please him.

Katie had fared far, far worse. Conceived purely as an experiment, her father had been chosen by Valentin solely for his lack of resemblance to Sasha’s father. Luis had learned of some of Alexandra’s less than savory activities and had left her. She hadn’t known that Valentin, insanely jealous, had made sure Luis found the evidence of her cozy relationship with arms dealers.

Less than a year from the night he had confronted her before storming out, Katie was born. By that time, Alexandra had come to hate the child she carried. A woman with an extraordinary dearth of human decency and lacking even a shred of maternal instinct, she’d done no research on the people she paid to take Katie.

Once she’d given Katie to them, she never checked on her again. It was Valentin who payed them to keep her alive, if not well, until she was what he deemed old enough with the promise of a lump sum later. That lump sum had payed when she was fifteen.

To Katie’s horrific misfortune, that was when Valentin’s perverse desire for their mother had been frustrated to the point that he’d become willing to settle for a proxy. Worse, with red hair dyed blonde and freckles covered with makeup Katie was a dead ringer for their mother.

One night, during a blazing row over news of Sasha’s attempted suicide, Alexandra discovered how twisted and sick Valentin’s obsession with her had become. Katie had accompanied him that night, as she had numerous times before. Never had their mother recognized her, but this time, she looked into a face that shared her bone structure if not her complexion and saw her own flesh and blood.

Alexandra had known of his desire for her since she was sixteen years old. She had used it against him to join and climb the ranks of HYDRA to a position of wealth and power. As twisted as he, she had enjoyed controlling him with it. Discovering how completely out of that control he really was had enraged her. That night, when she coldly informed him that their association was at an end, he snapped and showed her exactly how he thought of her and her daughters as belonging to him.

Rejected for what would become the last time, he took by force that which Alexandra had always denied him before choking the life from her. At his command, her daughter had been forced to watch. She had done so with dry eyes. Her emotionless demeanor unless otherwise directed would earn her rewards and freedoms. She'd undoubtedly learned long before that night to take what she could when she could. Sasha couldn't blame her for it, especially considering their mother.

At his persuasion Alexandra had abandoned Zoe in front of a hospital only three days before.

Tears flowed freely down Sasha’s cheeks and she did nothing to check them. She knew she’d been shutting down and pulling away. She had felt so tainted by what she’d done to Val, so ugly inside that she hadn't been able to help it. Tormented by memories of what had been done to her, she felt eaten alive by hate and rage. It made it impossible to feel remorse for the way she'd killed Valentin. Unable to feel anything but cold indifference, she had wondered if Val had succeeded in breaking her after all.

Wracked by the dark hate that gnawed constantly at her heart, she didn't know if she'd have allowed Bucky to touch her if he could still feel her emotions. She may have avoided him more carefully and with more zeal than he ever displayed in avoiding her. It would have broken her heart, but she hadn’t thought she could bear to put more dark on him. He already carried too much and blamed himself for far too much of it.

She was done with that now.

Sasha knew that what she had done to Valentin had been necessary. As long as he had lived, he would have been a threat to both her and Zoe, but he had been an immediate threat to Katie. Sasha was not going to feel guilty for killing her sister's tormentor and securing her permanent escape. And she was no longer going to accept that pain was her due for destroying a monster. She could deal with everything else.

Sasha couldn't help but be cynically amused that it had taken her mother's horrific story to snap her out of her spiral. She knew better than anyone that dark didn't negate light, couldn't smother it, no matter how hard it tried. She knew because she'd touched the inner heart of a man who carried both in equal measure and still loved with everything he had. With a quiet snort, she realized she'd been an idiot, in exactly the same way Bucky had so many months before when he flirted with her long-lost sister to protect her from himself. Her life was a goddamn farce sometimes.

Her face softened when she thought of how it had felt to share her talent with him. From the moment the link between them had flared to life, Sasha had felt like something deep inside her resonated in harmony with the hum she felt from him. She missed it, missed him. Her mind finally clear, she felt the loss in a way she hadn't allowed herself until now. If she could get her power back tomorrow, she'd leap at the chance. If all she could get back was the link with Bucky, she'd take it and be satisfied.

A little spitefully, she pulled in a slow deep breath and tried to clear her mind. Afraid to be alone with her own thoughts, Sasha had stopped meditating entirely. She thought now as the muscles in her shoulders relaxed that she had made a serious mistake in doing so. No matter what the future brought, she needed to get her mind back under her control.

That mind, so full of thoughts clamoring for attention when she had climbed up on her table, began slowly to clear. She focused on her breaths knowing she could let her mind relax now that she had acknowledged the noisiest thoughts. Letting the quieter ones come, she decided to start there and not push on her first try after so many months.

Bucky. He’d looked so sad that morning when he’d woken her that she’d been moving to kiss the shadows in his eyes away before she’d been fully awake. She was worrying him. She knew how and why, but she hadn’t known how to stop.

Feeling like a burden, Sasha had been terrified to tell him how much she relied on him to keep her halfway sane. She couldn't tell him that waking to his face every morning was some days the only thing that made getting out of bed possible. She couldn’t tell him that watching him gently tease smiles out of Zoe was how she made it through the day when just going through the motions was all she could manage.

She couldn’t tell him that he was one of the few bright spots of joy that reminded her that just because it felt hopeless didn’t mean it always would. She’d put so much on him when he already carried more than his share. How could she add any more?

He couldn’t know that her greatest fear wasn’t that her power was damaged beyond repair. Her greatest fear was that he’d one day wake up and realize she brought far more dark than light to his life. She’d never try to hold him, but she’d also never get over him. She’d love Bucky Barnes with everything she had until the day she died.

She smirked. She may not try to hold him, but she was back to planning new ways to persuade him. She recalled that he was a big fan of her in stockings and tiny skirts. However, she had discovered that by being petty and jealous over Katie. She still didn’t feel bad about that, but that briefing had been for the doomed mission that took her from him. She couldn’t be sure that the memory of that day hadn’t been tainted for him.

One of her favorite memories, Sasha didn't resist when her mind turned to how he had looked at her that day. Being the focus of that kind of single-minded heat and diabolical mouth made her desperately hope that she still had that in her arsenal. As she relived the memory, warmth tingled over her skin and in her belly. Had her mind not been so utterly still otherwise, she would never have noticed the deeper tingling along the back of her neck. Her mouth spread in a hopeful smile.

"I'm completely out of practice so you're not interrupting anything."

Bucky started when Sasha spoke. He had thought he had caught her unawares. He had intended to make his presence known, but she had looked so peaceful, even dreamy, though the smug smile on her face for some reason he couldn’t name had made his heart beat faster. Regardless, he hadn't been able to make himself break the spell. Something about the tilt of her head, the whip of midnight hair in the wind made his heart clutch and stopped his voice in his throat.

He knew now what that clutch meant. It was love, pure and simple. The clutch came in the moments he felt most keenly how he had changed not only because he loved her, but because she loved him. She'd left her imprint on him as surely as though she'd branded him. He didn't know how to tell her, how to ask her if she felt the same. Maybe it had been too easy in the beginning. They'd had a leg up and now they didn't know how to talk to each other about the things eating at them.

"Why did you stop?" Bucky asked instead, cursing himself for avoiding the conversation yet again. Coward, he thought.

Sasha turned her head to look at him and her eyes were clear and focused. She had the same look she had worn when she'd kissed him so sweetly in the lab. Her voice was a touch dry, but serene and matter of fact. "With my talent gone, I thought I didn't need to meditate anymore. Plus, I didn’t want to. Being alone with myself made me sick to my stomach."

Surprised that she'd volunteered such an honest expression of her feelings without having it dragged out of her and hopeful for more, he prompted, "What changed your mind?"

Her eyes crinkling with laughter, she winked at him. "Getting righteously pissed." Her face softened into an expression so tender it made his throat ache before shifting to that laser focused look she'd worn earlier in the lab.

Sasha tilted her head and continued to look coyly over her shoulder as her smile curved into a tempting bow rich with promise.  She completely took his breath. Her voice a low rasp, she purred, “Tell me something.”

Bucky was unsure of his moves. He’d never say he’d lost his Shurochka. More, it was like shadows had dimmed her. She spoke more softly, moved more slowly. She rarely sang, and she never danced. Even with him she still shied away when touched. All these weeks she had needed warmth, not heat.

This, however, this was something that had that heat racing over his skin and his muscles locking. He didn’t try to move from his place in the doorway in case he was reading her wrong. “What do you want to know?”

“Do you still have that picture you took of me?”

Bucky’s eyebrows lifted, and he scoffed. “You think I’d delete it? And take a knife to the Mona Lisa?”

Sasha laughed, and Bucky wanted to close his eyes and bask in it. She had thrown her head back and laughed out loud with nothing held back. Every moment he spent with her today gave him hope. He didn’t care if it lasted an hour or a week; even a moment was enough.

Her eyes were sparkling and seeming to beckon him closer and he straightened before he thought better of it. Her smile widened. “Was it the stockings, the garters, the skirt, or all three?”

“Yes.”

Sasha’s smile now held amused affection as well as sultry welcome. “In that case.” As she spoke, she turned until she was facing Bucky and uncurled her legs until they were hanging off the edge of the table, twitching the folds of her robe to keep her them covered. “Tell me something else. How often did you watch me meditate?”

Bucky glanced at Sasha’s covered legs ruefully. He definitely wouldn’t bet she was seducing him now. She knew her legs were his downfall. A little embarrassed, he shrugged as red crept up his face. “Every chance I got.”

She tilted her head. She’d figured he’d done so occasionally but didn’t expect this. Her heart fluttered, and her sultry look was replaced by that same intense focus. “For how long?”

“Months.” He answered almost absently, caught by that sharp light in her eyes. This laser focus was something brand new and he didn’t know what it meant.

Sasha could tell he was worrying again. As that was what she was actively trying to alleviate, she told herself to stop being coy. Curling her hands around the edge of the table, her expression shifted to her sly siren smile.

Bucky quivered in response. He nearly lost his battle to stay where he was when she spoke. “And in all that time, did you ever think about coming out here? Did you ever wonder what I was wearing under my robe?” With this she crossed her legs slowly. The fabric parted to reveal her bare legs up to the thigh and Bucky considered it the best invitation he’d ever received.

Moving slowly toward her, he searched her face for denial or hesitation. “All the damn time.” Finding neither, he didn’t stop until he was in front of her.

Her siren smile had faded to be replaced with a look of such blazing intensity Bucky had to remind himself to be gentle as reached for her. Sasha uncrossed her legs and parted her thighs for him. “Did you picture it?” Breathless, she arched into him as he stepped between her legs, his hands on her knees. “Did you imagine what I might let you do to me if you only asked?”

Bucky broke. Tempting at the worst of times, he couldn’t resist Sasha when she pulled out the sultry vixen. “Kitten, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about it. About sliding my hands up your amazing legs to-“ As he spoke he made good on his words, gliding his palms up under her robe. “-god! find nothing but you under there.” His hands had found no barrier to his touch and he rested his forehead against hers as he gripped her thighs. His eyes were dark blue pools of lust as they met hers. “About tearing every stitch off of you. About laying you back on that table and fucking you until you’re screaming my name.”

Sasha’s arms crept around his neck as she replied, her voice throaty. “You know I love it when you talk dirty to me.” Not waiting for a response, she pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him with a tender fury.

Bucky was lost. His Shurochka had her hands in his hair and was kissing him like she needed him to breathe. He wrapped his flesh hand around the thigh that she had snaked around his waist while his vibranium hand fisted in her hair to drag her head back. He stared into her avid eyes and growled. “Did you imagine it? Did you want me to come out here and try to touch you?”

Spellbound and adrift in the aquamarine seas of her eyes, Bucky didn’t notice the way his palm heated as the cool vibranium skimmed over the nape of her neck. Those mermaid eyes were warm and greedy and muddled his mind. On the edge of giving her anything, her response had him tumbling over.

“Yes,” she moaned as her hands dropped to fumble with the tie holding her robe closed. “I lost my focus every time I caught the edge of your energy.” Sasha spread the edges of her robe slowly, thrilling to the excitement burning in Bucky’s eyes as her golden skin was revealed inch by inch. “I’ve been yours for the taking since the first time.”

Bucky’s eyes had been roving over her, delighting in the silent offer as much as the sight of her velvet skin. At her words, however, his eyes snapped to hers as his hands roamed roughly over her body. “Are you, Sasha?” he asked with an intensity that belied the fear behind the question. “Are you mine?”

"Yes." She breathed it against the skin of his throat as her hands delved beneath the hem of his t-shirt to dig into the muscles of his back and pull him closer. Being naked but for the purple silk that had slipped from her shoulders and halfway down her arms while he was still fully dressed was almost unbearably erotic.

Shuddering with need, Bucky dropped his forehead to her shoulder and growled as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass to pull her to the edge of the table. “Say it, kitten.” Closing his teeth gently around the cords of her throat, his grip on his control nearly slipped as she quaked and moaned. “I need to hear it.”

"I’m yours. Only yours." Sasha took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes, her gaze fierce as she spoke without hesitation. The raspy sound of her voice shivered along his skin, but her words had his heart trembling. He hadn't known how badly he'd needed to hear her say it just like that.

Unable to stop himself even had he wanted to, Bucky slanted his lips over hers greedily. Her mouth opened avidly at the glide of his tongue over her lower lip. With a groan of mindless need, he drank from her mouth like he was dying of thirst as his hands pressed her thighs apart to open her to his touch.

Breath heaving, he tore his mouth from hers when her hands dropped to drag frantically at his belt. Her mouth immediately went to work at his throat, her breath sobbing. Her hands were warm and soft as they dipped beneath his waistband to close around him. Her lips against his skin she whispered, “I want you, Bucky. Now.”

Bucky instinctively moved his metal hand from her thigh to the table beside her. The wood splintered as his fingers clenched around the edge. A tremor of pure lust wracked his body and his flesh arm shot around her waist to drag her as close as possible despite her hands still softly stroking him.

“You’re killing me, doll.” Bucky started to pull her up, intending to take her to their bed. However, her hand tightened around him and he froze in place as she wrapped her legs firmly around him.

“No. Right here.” Her head tilted back, and she was wearing her siren smile. He wondered if he’d ever be able to resist her when she looked at him that way.

“Babygirl,” he moaned. He was trying to think clearly, but her touch was making him crazy. “The cameras.”

“I already turned them off,” she smirked. He hadn’t known she had access to control of the external cameras, but he didn’t question it. Sasha knew FRIDAY’s programming almost as well as Tony.

Now that he knew they weren’t under surveillance, any reserve he had left evaporated. However, he had been nothing but gentle with Sasha since the day they got her back. Bucky hesitated, afraid of losing control and hurting her.

Sasha may have no longer been able to sense his feelings, but she hadn’t spent her life steeped in the emotions of others to learn nothing. She knew how careful he’d been and why. It had been exactly what she needed. Now, however, she wanted him to let go. “Give me everything, Bucky,” she rasped as she pulled his boxer briefs lower. “Don’t hold anything back.”

Trembling at the feel of her thumb moving in circles over his tip, Bucky let go of the table to slip his metal hand between her thighs. When he gently slid his forefinger through her folds he nearly broke at the feel of her slick arousal. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. Or…”

“You won’t,” she said softly, cutting him off. The feel of him touching her so carefully was exciting, but not what she needed. She bucked her hips to urge him on. “You can’t hurt me. I’ll beg if you want.”

At that, Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and he growled. “You beg for nothing. You hear me, Sasha? Nothing.” By now, Sasha had worked his jeans far enough down his hips to free him entirely to her touch and was spurring him on with every rough stroke.

Bucky could barely think straight, let alone remember why he was hesitating. She was tempting him with every touch, every look, every word and he gave in without further thought or protest. Moving swiftly, he took her hips in his hands and pushed forward, Sasha’s hands guiding him into her.

“Is this what you wanted, kitten?” he asked as he surged almost roughly into her. “Is this what you need?”

Sasha exulted at the feel of him sliding into her. Feeling more alive than she had in months, she fisted her hands in his hair and rocked her hips to encourage him. “I need you to fuck me, my love.” Her voice was a low rasp and her words broke every barrier he had left. With a growl, he took her hips in a grip so tight it was nearly painful as he began to pound into her.

Bucky, still terrified to hurt or frighten her, would have forced himself to ease back, give her tenderness but her elated whimpers of pleasure urged him on. The feel of her hands in his hair, her body moving almost violently against his splintered his control and left him recklessly aroused.

“Fuck!” he growled in her ear. Her soft moans were driving him mad. “So tight and wet. Like this sweet cunt was made for only me. Have I not been taking good care of you, kitten?”

Sasha couldn’t answer, the surge of Bucky’s body against hers wiping her mind clean of everything but the fire that had flared to life between them. Since she had returned to him, every gentle touch had been like a balm over her wounded heart, but until now she hadn’t realized that Val had left behind smudges. With her skin going molten under Bucky’s hands and every blazing breath dragging his scent into lungs starved for it, she finally felt those smudges start to fade.

Sasha’s inability to respond with anything but mindless moans only fueled the blaze that seared away Bucky’s fear and hesitation. Barely able to think, words spilled from his mouth unbidden and unexamined. “Don’t you know, Sasha? All I want is you. I’d give you anything in return.”

Bucky’s eyes were narrowed and focused on Sasha’s face. The sight of gold dust skin warmed with an apricot flush and sea-witch eyes glowing with desire drug him closer to the edge with every moment. Sasha, already on the edge, tipped over when Bucky’s flesh hand, unable to resist the waves of sable silk he now so rarely got to touch, fisted in her hair and tugged her head back to fasten his teeth on her throat.

“Bucky!” Hips bucking and back arching, Sasha shuddered as she came, his name a triumphant cry. Before her abduction, sex with Bucky had always been a raw and earthy thing. Mind, heart, and body celebrated to recover even a fraction of that wild heat, let alone this inferno.

Bucky stopped moving to feel her pleasure work through her. When her eyes opened and focused on his as the shudders of pleasure eased, Bucky flashed his million-watt smile. Sasha smiled dreamily back, and love blew through him like light. “Call me James, babygirl. I love the way you say my name when I’m inside you.” Bucky wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, gently at first but soon his mouth was moving feverishly over hers.

Sasha tightened around him, arms, legs, and core and moaned against his mouth. “More, James. More!”

Bucky quaked against her, the sound of her voice shivering down his spine. Giving in to both her demand and his need, he began to move again. “Yes,” he growled, “exactly like that. Are you gonna come for me again? Are you gonna let me feel you squeeze me, kitten?”

This, this is what Sasha had wanted, what she needed: Bucky moving roughly against and into her, his arms tight around her and his low rumble urging her towards ecstasy. She’d needed to know he still wanted her with that same untamed passion. “James!”

“God! Fuck! Again. I want to feel it again, babygirl.” Bucky felt like he was losing his mind. Any worry he may have had that he was being too rough, too feral was destroyed at the look of fierce delight on Sasha’s face and the sobbing pleasure with which she screamed his name.

Finally letting go, he pressed her back until she was lying on the table, arching and moaning at every near violent thrust. Heedlessly, he growled into her ear as he pounded into her harder and faster, her hips gleefully snapping to his to meet each thrust. “You’re mine, Sasha. I need to hear you say it. Mine.”

“Yours, Bucky. I’m yours.” As she spoke, her climax overtook her again, the last word coming out on a shuddering moan. The combination of her words and the moan of pleasure with which she said them poured though Bucky like molten gold and drug him bucking and moaning over the edge with her.

As they rocked gently together to prolong the connection, Bucky turned his face into her neck and whispered, “Yours, Sasha. I’m yours.”

Sasha giggled. Bucky lifted his head grinning. He hadn’t heard that happy sound in long enough he had begun to fear he never would again. Sasha lay beneath him, her hair a wild tangle and her eyes sparkling like sunlight on tropical seas. Looking into those eyes warm with adoration, he felt the cold place inside him where he’d shoved the despairing dread ease.

“You’d already turned the cameras off? Was this the plan?”

Sasha face moved into a sly, feline smile and Bucky’s heart clutched again. “Why else would I be wearing a robe in the middle of the afternoon?”

As he straightened, Bucky pulled her up with him to carry her into the bedroom. “Good plan.”

A little while later, Bucky sat on the couch in the living area to wait for Sasha to dress as he tried to figure out how to ask her what caused the change in her demeanor. He wanted to know, but he was terrified that asking would destroy it.

When she walked in wearing a long-sleeved version of one of the swing dresses she seemed to have in infinite supply and her hair in a thick braid down her back, the sweet smile on her face had Bucky smiling helplessly back. She took the seat next to him and snuggled in to his chest with a hum of contentment. Bucky decided he didn’t care why as long as she was happy and wrapped her close.

“Did you see the video?” he asked, hoping to keep her happy as long as possible.

Sasha lifted her head to grin cheerfully at him. He’d had FRIDAY send her video of Zoe’s best shot, in the red rings just outside the bullseye. “I did! Our girl’s got a knack, doesn’t she?”

Bucky couldn’t help but feel warm at hearing Sasha refer to Zoe as ‘our girl’. “Apparently terrible aim doesn’t run in the family,” he teased.

Her eyes narrowed to a playful glare. “I don’t have to be able to hit the eye of a gnat at a hundred yards to make your life miserable and don’t you forget it. Dick.”

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about something she’d said and spoke before he could think better of it. “Do you miss it? The energy?”

“Of course.” If she was surprised at the sudden change to the subject, she didn’t show it. “But every day something you say or do, or some expression will cross your face, or the light will catch your eyes just right and I remember it like I felt it yesterday. It’s part of me.”

 “Shurochka.” Bucky paused, afraid to continue but also unsure that Sasha would be this open later. “When I woke up this morning, you weren’t wrapped around me like usual.”

Her mouth twisted with a touch of bitterness and he cursed himself for not being able to leave it alone before she was answering, her voice trembling slightly. “I had a nightmare. It was something I haven’t told you about. I pulled away rather than talk about it.”

“Doll.” He spoke softly and gently tightened his arms around her, grateful when she cuddled close. “You can tell me anything. That doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I’m not ready. I don’t know when I will be.”

“Sash-“ He started to reassure her, his heart aching at the sadness in her voice, when she spoke.

“I was trying to protect you.”

Bucky stayed silent, afraid to speak lest she stop, as she told him everything she’d kept hidden inside. As she spoke, her arms came around him to hold tight. No matter how hard it was to say aloud, she knew she needed to share with him all of the ugly and frightened parts of herself if she wanted them to have a chance. When she was done, her face was wet with tears, but her heart was lighter.

For a long moment, Bucky considered how to respond as he held her close. He didn’t know that his silence was wearing on her nerves like sandpaper on a sunburn. If he says ‘okay’, I will kill him, she thought.

“I thought I was losing you and I was too scared to say anything in case I made it worse,” he said, finally.

A wave of guilt washed over her. She knew she’d been worrying him, but she hadn’t known she’d been hurting him. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t love Bucky, but he couldn’t know that. She shifted to her knees and took his face in her hands. If she couldn’t share how she felt, she’d have to tell him. If she wanted to repair the damage her silence had caused, she’d have to lay herself bare in a way she never had before, with anyone.

Bucky’s breath caught as Sasha cradled his face in her hands and looked at him with that laser focus she’d worn off and on all day. As his hands settled around her waist, she began to speak, voice low and throbbing with emotion. “Val would go on and on about how I belonged to him. But I didn’t, because I already belonged to you. I love you, Bucky. I’ll never love anyone the way I love you. I’m yours. Today, tomorrow…” She took a deep breath and leapt, praying he wouldn’t let her fall. “Forever, if you want.”

Bucky’s eyes blazed. “Forever,” he murmured as his flesh hand reached up to brush his thumb over the thin white scar that still marred her cheek. “That might be long enough.”

Sasha was giggling as his vibranium hand slid around to her back to press her against his chest. The sweet sound stopped when his lips met hers and she sank into him with her happy Sasha hum.

As she snuggled back into his chest and tucked her head under his chin, Bucky could almost swear he felt that touch of devotion he missed so much.

“I had a moment of clarity as I stomped down to Starbucks today,” she said with a mischievous laugh touching her voice. “I’m embarrassed; it’s so dumb. I realized I’ve felt like there’s no way you could possibly be happy with me anymore, so I was pushing you away for your own good. Wait. Why does this sound so familiar?”

The impish sound of her voice told Bucky immediately where she was going with this. “Goddamnit.”

“Anyway, I’m sorry.” She wasn’t able to disguise even a little of the laugh in her voice at this point. “I was being just so stupid. Just so incredibly, unbelievably simple-minded. I can’t even fathom what I was thinking. Well, obviously I wasn’t thinking. That’s laughably clear.”

Bucky leaned back a little and to look at Sasha’s grinning profile. “Are you going to give me shit about that for the rest of our lives?”

Sasha tilted her head back and retorted with mock outrage. “Yes! My sister, Bucky! How could you?!”

His eyes narrowed as his heart soared. He’d missed playful Sasha so much. A wicked smile crossed his face as his fingers dug into her sides to tickle her mercilessly. With a squeal of laughter, she twisted to escape the torment, but he was there at every turn.

Once he’d tickled her breathless, she lay against his chest and grinned cheekily up at him. “So, how’re things with you?”

Bucky’s laugh rumbled under her cheek and made her heart sigh happily. “Not bad. I gotta say, when I got the “I need to talk to you” text message I did not expect it to be about sex on your meditation table.”

“Shit!” Chagrin washed over her as she realized what she’d done. “I totally sent you some of the most terrifying words in the English language. I’m an asshole.”

Bucky smirked. “Yeah, but at this point, you’re my asshole.”

“I actually do need to talk to you, though.” Sasha grew serious, but the glimmer of hope on her face had Bucky’s heart beating faster. “It wasn’t just a ruse. Tony and I remembered something today. We never took out the tracking chip. The vibranium chip.”

Bucky opened his mouth, but Sasha lifted a hand that kept him from demanding explanations.

“So, we went to the med-bay to check it out. It appears to have disintegrated into microscopic particles, probably when I got all melodramatic. Those particles have embedded themselves in my spine, some as deep as my spinal cord.”

Sasha could tell by the look on Bucky’s face that he understood. She couldn’t know that he was thinking of the times he’d thought he felt the brush of her emotions.

“Is there anything we can do?” he asked, the same hope he saw in her face taking root inside him. He loved Sasha, power or no, but he missed that connection more than he would have ever thought possible.

“I talked to Christine while Tony tapped the big guns. After looking at the scans she said only one person could even have had a chance.”

“Dr. Strange.”

Her lips twisted sadly, and his heart sank. “Did you know he was in a car accident last year that destroyed the fine motor control in his hands? He’s no longer practicing.”

“Shit. Who are the big guns?”

Sasha’s face lit up and he could see this was part of what had changed. Hope was a powerful thing. “No one in the world knows vibranium like Princess Shuri of Wakanda.”

Chapter Thirty-two here

Taglist: 

@marvel-lucy @cheekygeek05 @lbouvet @lovely-geek @wantingtobekorra @diinofayce @ashesandfire @suz-123 @theresaskankinmyboot @ddysis @caplansteverogers @getbuckylucky @california-grown @rnr1274 @capandbuck @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @magellan-88 @mizzzpink @curiositywillbethedeathofmee @colie87 @bibliophile1773 @henrietteoaks

[spacialrxnd-moving]

       I felt like writing a little thing so here's a cut. I guess I'll put this under the HC tag, but this is basically Palkia's perspective of moments before and after being summoned by Cyrus, as well as the event itself.

       Hordes of Unown twirled through the realm, creating strange, unnatural spiraling patterns, circling through the air, their illusions fading in and out as their psychic power fluctuated. Tracking the entities with emotionless red eyes, a behemoth hovered far below, not beyond the notice of said entities, who kept their distance. The deity was unsure if their only company in this strange realm could feel, but if they did, they would guess that the Unown were feeling wary of the one who held total control over this world.

       As the Unown began to spiral away, the deity felt a slight twinge of amusement, looking at the orbs of a water-like substance around them. The closest description that could be thought of upon seeing one such orb would be a "bubble." These were not quite bubbles, though. For one thing, they would be completely solid and smooth if the species that had invented the word "bubble" were to touch them. Palkia could phase through them without even thinking about it, but they could also pop these if they so desired, completely destroying the spatial stability of a dimension, or, in some cases, destroying the dimension altogether.

       The massive dragon that had been watching the Unown now took off towards the horizon of this realm. Of course, there was nothing beyond the Spatial World. The Spatial World was the boundaries of the universe, and the largest world to exist. And the world expanded, making room for new dimensions to be created. Palkia began to pick up their pace, then-

       "I command that you unleash your power for me.. PALKIA, the mythical Pokemon, and the master of space and dimensions!"

       The rip in the quiet dimension that allowed the voice to come through was so quick that they had no time to even think before a horrifyingly familar object slung through the hole and snaked around their body, coiling tightly around their neck like an extremely large Seviper. They let out a furious cry, struggling against the chain very briefly, before the power wrapped itself around their brain, suppressing their willpower, forcing them to emerge from the hole, where they saw their controller. A blue-haired man with eyes that were like malicious blue cyclones, burning with the intent to control everything around him.

       They already hated him. Why had they been brought here? The chain did not allow Palkia to look, but they could sense the presence of Dialga beside them, equally enraged by the sudden summoning of this man who clearly intended no good, judging by the look in his eyes. Just brushing the surface of his mind was enough to tell the deity that his name was Cyrus, and he was more hate-filled than even he was willing to accept. They couldn't move, they couldn't cry out, they couldn't even blink. All that was heard was the wind battering the ancient ruins. The man began to speak, his voice slow and ominous, causing the deity's heart to race with horror and anger, faster and faster with each word.

       "I've waited so long for this moment, DIALGA and PALKIA. Shaping this world is a double spiral of time and space. Yes, the very things you have the ability to control!" And something that you will never be able to fully control regardless of whether you have us, with your ignorance and hatred.

       "You will do my bidding! I will have your abilities as mine! With the power I wield, I will create an entirely new world!" How pathetic. You're so insignificant and weak that you must force others to do your dirty work for you. They tried to open their mouth to hiss at him, but the chain subdued them, forcing them to watch, unable to tear their eyes or their will away from this abomination of human kind..

       "The incomplete and ugly world we have now can disappear. I am resetting everything to zero. Nothing can remain. It is all for making the ultimate world. A world of complete perfection. Nothing so vague and incomplete as spirit can remain." How could a single human being be so hypocritical? His disdain towards spirit was founded by spirit. How dare this man look down on spirit when spirit was the only reason he was standing here today? His spirit, his emotions, were the only reason he could hate spirit, or regard it as an ugly thing. Yet, he was the one making this world so incomplete and ugly.

       Spirit..

       The wind stopped, and the man looked up towards the sky. A yellow light flashed high above their heads, briefly illuminating the pillar. Followed by a pink light, and then lastly, a blue light. They could not look up to see their younger siblings, the ones who embodied spirit, and the ones that must have been used to create the horrible chain. Normally, they would have felt relief at the sight. However, this time, it just made the presence of Dialga feel so much heavier. No no no no no..

       "...I should have expected as much. UXIE, 'The Being of Knowledge.' AZELF, 'The Being of Willpower.' And MESPRIT, 'The Being of Emotion.'" There was a slight hardening of the tone on the last word. Of course. Why wouldn't there be, given his hatred of the emotions he saw as disgusting? Congratulations, Cyrus. You knew mythology that was taught to toddlers. Want a medal?

       Three piercing cries rang out over head, and the ghost of a smirk flickered over the man's face. Oh, they wanted to claw that smug expression of his face so, so badly. "The Pokemon have come to protect Sinnoh? Pathetic and worthless. It takes the three of them, the three lake Pokémon that symbolize spirit, to balance either the Pokemon of time or space. But they can't maintain balance against the two. Not when both DIALGA and PALKIA are here. Their coming here is in vain. So much meaningless drama."

       Dialga and Palkia knew it. As did the lake guardians. Palkia knew the trio would try their absolute hardest, and if they did not succeed, Arceus would arrive to interfere themselves. There was nothing to worry about.. right? They suddenly realized that someone was in their peripheral view. A child? What was a child doing here? Cyrus turned to look at the tiny human. The human that seemed so.. out of place, in comparison to the freakish man and his other awestruck followers.

       "Now, child. You've constantly interfered with my plans, but you will be forgiven. After all, there will remain no spirit for all time when I am done. All spirit will disappear. It will be ripped away... From you! From your Pokemon! From those precious to you...! It is time! My dream will be my reality!" So this.. child.. was on their side. These were situations that children should have never dreamt of, let alone have been trying to stop. But here there was, a trainer who looked to be no older than 13. They could feel their powers being put to use, space beginning to distort and collapse as he spoke, just as an agonizing but familiar pressure filled the area. It shouldn't have been them. Where was Arceus? If the creator was watching, they didn't reveal themselves. Had they abandoned them all? The man halted, perplexed. Ha.

       "What is this pressure I feel...? Something... is enraged?"

       A hole opened right between Cyrus and the two deities that he was so determined to control. A black, empty hole, with a pair of glowing red eyes within it. Slowly, so slowly, a massive shadow began to rise out of it, wings folded tightly against their back, distortions pulsing through the ruins, bending the stone pillars in unnatural ways that Palkia itched to fix immediately. They edged back alongside Dialga under Cyrus' command, and watched disdainfully.

       "Interesting. So there is a Pokemon that can only appear as a shadow." Dialga and Palkia were forced to edge forward. Palkia could feel the power surging up into their claws, hating every bit of that moment, trying so hard to break free of the Red Chain's oppressive power. The shadow creature's furious eyes rested on their subdued siblings briefly, before they looked at Cyrus again, flaring open their wings. He simply snorted. "Regardless, the effort is rash and foolish. I have harnessed the powers of DIALGA and PALKIA.." The shadowy creature drew their wings back, solid red spikes fading to a fiery gradient.

       "I, Cyrus, won't have any more interferererererere...!"

       Then that horrible, suppressive feeling was gone, and their distortions immediately faded, leaving only the distortions of the one who had saved them. They were free, and they were up in the sky as soon as they could move. They looked down towards the portal below them, where the lake trio was now descending down. Palkia watched as Uxie and Azelf dove in. Mesprit appeared in front of the child and the Sinnohan Champion, and asked them for help. They watched the three enter the Distortion World together. "Good luck," they whispered.

       Giratina. Palkia never thought they would see their sibling on such terms. They looked up towards the sky, and picked up their pace, breaking the sound barrier in a matter of seconds. The deity shot away from the planet they had been summoned to, eventually stumbling across an asteroid large enough for them to settle on. They folded their wings around themselves, floating in a defensive ball as they shuddered, the aftereffects of the Red Chain kicking it, intense energy zapping at their shoulders, triggering every nerve that it got near. They flinched, curling deeper into the asteroid and closing their eyes.

       The audacity of humans. To have an entire universe handed to them on a silver platter, only for them to not be satisfied, and they demanded more and more of their creators. Palkia snarled angrily. Greedy creatures. Sometimes they wished they could just punish humanity for being so greedy and ungrateful, and then they remembered, not all humans were that way. But some of them certainly were.

       Humans like that disturbed them more than a lot of things did. Even worse, humans that managed to get as far as that freakish blue-haired man did.. they scared Palkia, a lot more than they would admit. How were the nice humans doing in that torn, unstable world? Were they safe? The deity hoped so. Settling their head on their tail, Palkia closed their eyes and fell deep into slumber, not feeling strong enough to move any further at a time like this.

[chooserecovery]

I have major depression, but my mom refuses it. I self harm al too much and im afraid of recovery if that makes sense. Idk who I'll even be. Im not allowed to see a therapist acc. To my mom. Im not allowed meds. I have anxiety attacks, especially at church. My mom doesnt care. Do you have any advice or am I just a lost cause? How do I stop? How can I get better? Im so confused.

You’re not a lost cause. There is always going to be an opportunity to try to improve things in your life and to help yourself cope in less destructive ways. There will always be another chance, as long as you are alive, to try to make things better. Even if you don’t feel like you can get all the way there right now.

It makes perfect sense to be afraid of recovery. With self harm being largely used as a coping tool, stopping can feel like throwing away your life raft when you’re in the middle of the ocean. And things like mental illness affect so many aspects of one’s life that a lot of people end up feeling like it’s all that they have. Even if you’re not at that stage, when something affects so many of your thoughts, actions, and abilities, it’s hard not to feel like getting rid of it, in this case recovering, would be like completely changing who you are as a person. And it’s pretty normal to be scared of change. 

I’m assuming that you’re a minor or otherwise reliant on your parents. It’s a crap situation for the people you’re relying on to be unwilling to help you to seek the help that you need. However, you are presumably not always going to be in this situation. You will be able to get out of there and seek help if you feel like you need to. But in the meantime, here are a few things that might be able to help you cope:

First off, if you feel an anxiety attack coming on, try things like grounding exercises. One that frequently seems to end up being people’s favorite is to try to name things that are affecting each of your senses at that moment. For example, if I were to do it right now it might sound like, “I can feel the rub of the fabric of my clothes against my skin, hair brushing across my ears as I turn my head, and the weight of my body in my chair. I can hear jazz music from the living room, car doors slamming outside as the neighbors are coming home, and the clacking of my keyboard as I type. I can smell leftover pizza and smoke from the incense burning next to me.” 

You can go on for as long as you need to, giving items for every sense, etc. You can do this out loud, in your head, or write it down on paper. It is very effective for many people in helping redirect attention to the present moment and off of whatever train of thought the anxiety is going down.

Alternately, if you’re near a sink, sometimes splashing cold water on your face can help to stop an anxiety attack by engaging a different part of your brain.

Another thing that can be helpful for some people is to try to acknowledge that you’re feeling anxious. A lot of people, when trying to stop an anxiety response, will just try to do their best to stomp it down. Often that doesn’t do much of anything. Instead, sometimes just looking at that thought and going “Yes, okay, I see that I am feeling this way, but I am going to do this other thing right now, and I can worry about that later” is actually enough to let you refocus your attention onto what else you need to do.

Of course, doing things like noticing before the anxiety really starts can mean paying more attention to your thoughts than a lot of people are really used to. Every once in a while, try to just do a quick checkin on what you’re thinking about and what you’re feeling. You may even consider setting an alarm to remind you to do this. Once the alarm goes off, just spend a minute or two trying to consciously look at what you’re thinking about, what you’re feeling in your body, etc. This can help you get a better feel for where you are mentally and if you might need to take a minute to step back and calm yourself down before things get worse.

If the anxiety attack has already started, then sometimes being able to get your breathing under control will allow you to end it quickly. There are different variants of breathing exercises, and you can also find videos and images on the internet that give you a set rhythm to breathe to so that you won’t have to try to keep count yourself. Personally, I’ve found in for a count of 4, hold 7, exhale 8 for a few rounds o breath has been super helpful, but different ones seem to work better for different, people, so tr poking around on the internet and try a few to see how they work for you. As you’re doing this, you may also want to try mentally scanning your body; odds are good that the anxiety is making you tense up most of your muscles, which also reinforces those anxious feelings. If you can consciously try to relax your muscles, it can sometimes take some of the power away from the anxiety.

I’ve also personally found it helpful to try to redirect all of my focus onto the physical sensations of anxiety. I don’t know if this is commonly a helpful thing or if I’m just abnormally interested in how bodies work, but rather than letting myself get carried away by the panic-spiraling thoughts, I’ll instead pay attention to how the increased pace of my heart feels, or what areas of my body seem to feel warmer or cooler than usual, what areas of my body are tense, etc. It’s similar to the suggestion above of tring to list the various things that you’re senseing, but instead of focusing on outside things, it is focusing specifically on what is happening in your body. 

You may also want to see if certain objects make you feel a bit more comfortable. From the way that this ask is written, it sounds like you don’t have much of a choice about going to church or into other triggering environments. However, if there is anything that makes you feel more safe, then it may make thos environments more tolerable. This could be something like a fidget toy for example, or long sleeves which often seem to help. You know yourself best, so you’d have the best ideas for what might work for you.

Finally, for the self harm, usually it seems that the self harm happens because of some other need that isn’t being met, or feeling that isn’t being addressed. In your case, it may be a way of dealing with the anxiety, in which case finding other ways to cope with the anxiety may help you decrease the sef harm, as well. Other times it might be because you just need to feel better, in which case you may try something that would cause an endorphin release (exercise, eating chocolate, eating spicy food, trying to find something that will make you laugh) or something that makes you feel comforted, like a bath or watching an old favorite movie.

In general, just try to learn to pay attention to what it is that you need. Sometimes certain feelings can be so overwhelming that it’s hard to see past them enough to see what it is that we actually need, but as you get more practice at it, it gets easier to figure out what you need to do.

Also, consider setting up a space online where you can talk about what you’re going through. There are various online communities for people who self harm, etc. where you can have ongoing conversations and often act as a sort of support group for one another, which many people find very helpful.

And if you feel like you are in crisis mode, here is a list of hotlines that you can call. They aren’t generally great long-term solutions, but if you need someone to talk to immediately, they’re generally available.

Good luck, anon. I hope you find something that helps,

–Luke

[sweetnestor]

You Look Happier | Chapter 8

university au, teamiplier + jack

platonic/romance/angst/(smut at one point but it’ll only be on ao3)

previous chapter

“I have a question,” Ethan prompted one night when I had picked him up from campus.

Four words that immediately made me want to shit myself. But it’s Ethan, so I tried to silence the string of worrisome thoughts in my head.

“Okay.”

“How come you never let me drive?” he asked.

It was bound to happen. I had rehearsed telling him before, but I couldn’t do it. I mean I could, I just sounded irrational and dumb.

“Um…” Good start, Bella. “It’s a thing…” Even better. “And anxiety thing. I just get really, really on edge when other people drive. I don’t know why.” That’s a fucking lie, I know damn well what causes that specific anxiety, but it was for another conversation. “I just, I have to always be driving.”

He didn’t say anything at first. My stomach began flipping over. Now I’ve done it. I was too insane for him. This is where it ends.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke at last. “Could you repeat that?”

Oh.

“I get nervous when other people drive,” I said. Short and sweet.

“Can I ask why?”

“Anxiety’s a bitch. But being the driver keeps me calm, so…”

Ethan hummed. “So… I could never drive you to, like, a surprise date or anything?”

My heart ached a little bit. I shrugged in response. “I don’t know.”

“Hm. Well, that’s okay. Whatever makes you comfortable.” He paused. “Can I ask another question?”

I chuckled out of nerves. “Okay.”

“Do you care… or, does it matter to you…” He paused again. “Uh… words, I know those. Um, does it matter that we, uh, only go on dates when we’re in the car? Or, wait no - does it bother you that we don’t go on, um, fancy dates?”

“Well,” I started, “I think any amount of time we spend alone together counts as a date. And no, I’m not really bothered by what we do or where we go as long as we’re together.”

“Aww…” he sounded reassured, but then he was quiet again. “It’s just that… when I was at PAX, and I told my friends about us, they - well, we always make fun of each other ‘cause we’re all idiots - but uh… what was I saying? Fuck!”

“You told your friends about us,” I reminded him.

“Oh yeah! Oh…” Ethan perked up for a second but then was timid again. “They just said some stuff about not knowing how to show a girl a good time, and… Well, it doesn’t matter what we do, I like spending time with you. I just wanted to, uh, know if we’re, uh… on the same page.”

Again, my heart was doing crazy things. For some reason, I didn’t think he cared about my thoughts on our time together. I was happy to do whatever he wanted, honestly.

“We are,” I reassured. “Like I said, I don’t care what we do as long as we’re together.”

“What about your anxiety?”

I hesitated. “Okay, there’s some things we can’t do, or…” Now I was struggling with my words. I was now debating whether or not I could try things with him that normally scared me, like going to a restaurant, the movies, or even sex. Oh god, is there the possibility of us having sex? “But, um, I’m fine with us having car dates. I just wanna spend time with you.” Nice save.

Ethan reached over and squeezed my shoulder. The touch was random, but I liked it.

“Did your friends say anything about us?” I asked, because it was going to bug me along with the other intimacy crap circulating my mind.

“Oh, they’re glad I finally hired someone to be my girlfriend,” he casually said. “Which reminds me, I need to talk to you about your paycheck.”

“Oh yeah, if I’m putting in all these night shifts, I expect to be paid extra,” I told him.

He giggled and played with a strand of my hair. “I picked the right girl.”

I blushed as I pulled into a drive-thru. “Yes, I like having you as my fake boyfriend who pays me to hang out with him.”

We got food and I parked in a more secluded area of the lot. It was a quarter to nine, so there was still some commotion around the place. I preferred the small space of my car to a crowded restaurant anyway.

“What does Sean think of us?” Ethan asked after a while.

“He was happy when I told him,” I replied. “But I think he wants to give you like a ‘dad talk’ or something.” The thought made me chuckle.

“What did he say?” He sounded amused.

“Something about me being his ‘blossoming flower’ and that you better be good to me ‘or else.’ Dad stuff. Just wait til he sees you on campus or something.” I shrugged it off as I giggled.

“That’ll be fun.”

We went silent as we ate, letting the night sink in. I wasn’t thinking too hard about anything I had said to Ethan all night. It felt easy for the most part. Things felt calmer with him, that was the difference between this relationship and my past ones.

“So,” Ethan spoke up again, “is Jack like… your dad…? Or, a brother?”

I took a sip of my drink and thought about it. “I don’t know, actually. He’s family to me. Most times he’s my brother. Sometimes, he’s the dad… other times he’s the cool aunt, or a distant cousin. I don’t know. He’s my best friend.”

He hummed in response. “That’s nice.”

I wanted to say that Jack was probably my strongest reason to stay alive in the last few months, but it was probably too soon for all that dark stuff to arise. Well, despite the fact that Ethan had already seen me in one of my lowest points, which made me think even more. Were we going to pretend like my intervention never happened?

A pang of anxiety went through my chest. I took a deep breath, actually trying to remember what I learned in therapy. New relationship. We weren’t going to talk about everything within the first couple of weeks. These things take time.

“Do you have a best friend?” I asked him.

He sat up, a bit more excited now. “Yeah! She’s back home in Maine, so I haven’t seen her in a while. Oh! But she’s the best, I’ve known her since…”

I listened as he gushed about this girl. I wondered if that was how I looked and sounded when I spoke of Jack. Still, I listened, glad to be knowing about my boyfriend’s other friends. But in the back of my head, I still had a feeling of impending doom over the possibility of meeting all the people that were important to him. It was bound to happen.

Naturally, after who-knows-how-long of sharing friend stories, we stopped talking. We were looking at each other the way they do in those gross romantic movies. I had gotten pepped up and excited over his gushing so I was in a good mood now.

“You’re so pretty,” Ethan mumbled. He was twiddling a long strand of my hair between his fingers. He was doing that more and more often these days.

“No, you,” I said back, booping his nose.

He hummed and brushed the end of my hair against my cheek. I couldn’t help but grin like a doofus. Then, he started to lean in, making butterflies explode in my stomach. Ethan’s hand then suddenly moved to the base of my neck as he pulled me in for a kiss.

My hand flew to his arms, mildly startled by the gesture. But I didn’t want to stop. I tried to move closer, but the space between our seats was making things difficult. I pulled back, and the air was suddenly heightened. How far was this going to go? We were in the car, in a public place.

“You wanna go to the back?” Ethan softly asked.

Jesus Christ, how could I say no to that voice?

I nodded and went first. As I climbed to the backseat, I felt that bundle of anxiety develop in my chest again. Oh god, not now. I could push through it.

Ethan quickly joined me, pausing for a moment when he was sat next to me. The longer we sat in silence, the more the feelings in my chest and throat intensified. I quickly leaned in and kissed him again, trying not to throw myself all over him. No need to rush things.

It was comfortable. I liked the feeling of him kissing me and biting my lip. Getting kissed by Ethan was something I didn’t know I needed. I shyly placed my hand on the side of his neck, scooting just a little closer to him. His hand moved from my waist to the inner part of my thigh.

That’s when I couldn’t ignore the anxiety anymore.

When I pulled back, I gasped for air. I didn’t remove myself from Ethan completely though, but my sudden move did startle him. My heart was pounding, but I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. My breathing was short, but I wasn’t sure if it was from making out with him, or because I was about to spiral.

“Hey,” Ethan said, lifting my chin. He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Everything okay?”

“It’s…” I breathed out, “it’s been a while. I’m… I’m just nervous.”

“It’s okay, me too. Look.” Ethan leaned back and held his hand up; It was trembling. “You’re not alone here.”

That was soothing. I sighed, somewhat relieved.

“I wasn’t really expecting to go… all the way, anyway,” he continued as he sat back. “I’m sorry if I rushed anything.”

I shook my head, trying to keep my thoughts in order. “No, no, you didn’t do anything. My… my brain wants to fuck me over sometimes. It’s not you at all. I liked it, I liked y-you… touching my thigh… I’m just, my brain… my brain…”

Ethan took my shaky hand in his. “It’s okay. I understand. We can go slower if you want.”

It was reassuring. He was doing everything right. Still, I couldn’t help the guilt and embarrassment.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” I told him, leaning back against the window.

“What do you mean?”

“My anxiety.”

“I’ve known about it from the start. I knew that things like this were going to happen.”

“But it’s worse than just this,” I said. “I have full blown panic attacks where I literally think I’m dying. I could probably never go to a movie theatre, or any place that’s crowded because it triggers the attacks. I could never let you drive. Sometimes I’ll even throw up because the anxiety is so intense.”

“So how do I help you?” he asked. “What helps you when you’re having a panic attack?”

I looked at him, mildly surprised. “I… Talk to me about literally anything, it’s distracting and it helps. I usually need water… and remind me to breathe every so often. Don’t count how long I breathe, it makes me feel weird. My hand tingles too, um, holding it and squeezing actually helps.”

He did it right as I said it. The feeling was strangely calming.

“That’s the only touch I can handle when I’m in the middle of it,” I continued. “So, no hugs or back rubbing. Um… that’s most of it, I think. B-But, don’t feel obligated to help me at all, I can usually power through it on my own, you really don’t have to-”

“Babe.” Ethan hesitated. “If I can call you that… I’m here for you. I will help you in whatever way I can. Okay?”

I looked down at our intertwined fingers. “You can call me whatever you want.”

“Alright then, shithead. I’m here for you, okay?”

I lied my head on his shoulder to hide the tiny grin. “Whatever you say, fuckface.”

~

My semester at YTU wasn’t as busy as I had anticipated. Only three days into it, I couldn’t help but feel like I should have been doing something more. Jack was busy with classes from eight to two, and then recording until the late evening. Ethan’s class schedule was a bit more scattered, so in between lectures he was at Mark’s office, and then recording for his own channel.

All I could do was wait. I had an hour or two to kill between my second and third class. I got a text from Sophie, inviting me over to her dorm. Knee jerk reaction: Ignore the text. Slightly rationalized reaction: make up an excuse. Even more rationalized: do it because you have nothing better to do!

I did go, after arguing with myself for a good ten minutes in my car. I had only been to the girls’ dorms a couple of times, and it was in fact Sophie’s room I had been to. Luckily, she never changed rooms in the time she’s been on campus, so I would be going to a familiar setting.

Aria was there too. Better her than a complete stranger. The air wasn’t as tense as I had feared it would be. I hadn’t spoken to either of them since that day in my apartment.

“So how’ve you been?” asked Aria who was plopped down on Sophie’s perfectly made bed.

“She means generally,” added the blonde, who was working at her desk. Then, she almost dramatically turned in her chair to face me. “Unless you wanna talk about anything?”

I refrained from rolling my eyes. She was trying, I suppose.

“I’m fine, really,” I told both girls. Kinda wanted to tell them I had a boyfriend now, but I didn’t really trust either of them. “Things are fine. What about you guys?”

Aria rolled over and began rambling. “Okay, so we’re working on another show for the team, ad we need more sponsors and new routines. And we also need a wider music variety because we used a lot of the same artist last show. Oh! And we’re opening up auditions again soon - do you wanna try out for the team?”

“Uh, I don’t dance,” I replied simply.

“That’s true,” Sophie piped up. Thanks. “She’s a singer.”

“Oh, you should totally sing with us at the Friday show!” Aria exclaimed.

“I-I’ve done that before,” I told her. “I’m… trying not to take on too much at once.”

“Yeah, we sang together like… what was it? A year, or two ago?” Sophie added.

That was true. During my second semester, I sang a Taylor Swift cover at one of the infamous Friday talent shows. Apart from the video that was taken that night, I didn’t remember any of it. Whether it was the intense nerves or the alcohol, it was a blank in my head.

I stuck around with the two girls until I had to leave for my next class. After that, I sat in a semi-crowded classroom for two hours without crying. Then I went to Jack’s dorm and waited for him to finish recording. By the time we were leaving for dinner, I got a text from Mark who wanted to meet at the end of the week.

Right. Things were better between us. I had mentioned the small interaction I had with Amy on Moving Day, and he liked the idea of us meeting up on our own. That day was still yet to come, but it was sitting in the back of my head like a bomb waiting to go off.

_______

next chapter

[icklebabywriter]

Reflections

Trigger warning: blood, violence, animal death, murder, gore

I stare at my hands in my lap, too scared to look up at the new therapist lest I will catch my reflection in something. In anything. Her eyes, the windows, the glass of water sitting on the coffee table in front of me... 

“So, Alex, tell me what happened - right from the beginning.”

I sighed. I’ve told this story to three therapists now but no one can help me. No amount of all the different kinds of medicine can help me. But I suppose we can try one more time.

“It all started with a message from a girl that was flirting with me. We’ve been talking for a while, but I kept getting weird vibes from her, so I didn’t really want to like give her any ideas. I didn’t want to tell her to get lost either because she was so... lonely.

“So one day after I asked how it’s going in the morning she said it’s not going well, but she keeps thinking about this sweet boy and how she wants him to leave love bites in her neck and that keeps her going. I told her I want to meet this boy one day, hoping against all hopes she’s met someone else. She said I can meet him right now if I go look in the mirror. My stomach sank - she was talking about me. I didn’t think anything weird about it and went on with my day.

“That night when I got out of the shower I looked in the mirror to brush my teeth and... and...” I took a deep breath to steady myself, not once daring to lift my gaze from my hands. “And my reflection winked at me.”

I paused, it’s usually at this point that they want to ask questions. Bullshit like whether I’m sure I didn’t perhaps wink myself or whether I was drunk or high. She didn’t say anything for a while and then softly “Go on please?”

Hah. This one pretends to believe me. Let’s see how long that lasts.

“I was freaked out by it, but at first I thought it’s just my brain playing tricks on me. I wasn’t under the influence of anything, but I was a bit tired since I was having a few nightmares the previous two weeks.”

I could hear her scribble on her note pad. I know she’s going to ask about the nightmares, but I carry on regardless, not giving her time to respond.

“That was just the first incident however. After that first time my reflection kept doing weird things. Initially it was just moving out of sync from myself - stuff like waving at me or pulling a face or sometimes and decidedly the worst type, simply not being there. It was like my reflection went somewhere else.

“I kept thinking it was because of lack of sleep and my reflection having a mind of it’s own really didn’t help that situation. I kept hoping it will go away, but it didn’t.

“I started noticing other things after a couple of days. Sometimes my reflection would have the same clothes as me, but disheveled. Sometimes he would wear completely different clothes than me. Sometimes he would be holding something that I wasn’t holding - like a rose or a piece of paper that seemed to be a letter or one time even a kitten I’ve never seen in my life before.

“The girl I spoke about started saying thank you to me for bringing her things, even though I never saw her in that time. I stayed in my house because I was terrified and yet.... She said thank you for me bringing her a rose or a letter or a kitten... Things my reflection showed me he has.

“That really freaked me out. Like, how can a reflection interact with somebody else? How can a reflection even pass things through a mirror? But I was naive. This wasn’t even the tip of the ice berg.

“The next week I spotted my reflection with blood flecks on his shirt, near the collar. He seemed to be busy washing his hands in the bathroom sink, but I couldn’t see his hands, just the movement of his arms. When he saw I was looking at him he flashed me a grin, walked out of the frame and then returned, keeping his hands out of sight. He stared at me for a good thirty seconds with that grin plastered on his face before lifting his left hand and putting it against his side of the mirror.

“He left a bloody hand print. Like... a hand print of blood, but it was on his side. I screamed and ran to my room. I was sitting in the corner freaking out when I saw him again. This time in the reflection of an old CRT screen. It was the first time he was in any other reflection than the mirrors. He laughed at me and made another bloody print on the monitor. I just covered myself with my blankets and prayed that it was an illusion. It must be, it must be, it must be.

“Eventually when I worked up the courage I peered out from the covers and saw the bloody print was still on the monitor but he was gone. I crawled closer and tried touching it from my side. It was just smooth glass that I touched - there was no blood on my side.

“My logical side together with curiosity took hold of me. I carried the monitor to the living room and took it apart so I can get the glass out. When I turned the glass around so I can inspect his side... I could see the blood already almost dry. I could touch it. It was real.

“He must have injured himself, or someone, or... Or... Killed someone. I didn’t know. I couldn’t have known. I only have so many windows into his world and he only lets me see what he wanted me to see.

“So I took a pocket mirror my mom left there when she visited me once and started walking around my house, looking for evidence of what he has done. I looked everywhere and eventually found it in the garage. 

“My garage was spotless - my car was parked there but everything else was neat and orderly. His garage however... He must have left with my car because I can’t see it in the reflection... In the middle of the garage floor was the kitten he showed me once... He... He disemboweled the poor thing. It was laying dead on the floor with as big a pool of blood around him as his little body could produce and all around was bloody hand prints spiraling out from the kitten’s tiny body.

I paused for breath. I was so thirsty but I dare not look at the glass.

“So I feared for the girl I was talking to. I messaged her, asking whether her kitten is okay. She responded nearly immediately saying it’s gone. That she can’t find it in any of the reflections in her house.

“That’s when I knew she knew. She knew he just lived in the reflections. And whatever he brought her can only stay in the reflections seemingly. I was glad. That meant he can’t come out of the reflection.

“I messaged her telling her of everything that happened on a voice note. I didn’t want to call her because she would only interrupt me. She sent a voice note back. It was whispers. She said he was there. That he is calling for her but she doesn’t want to go to him. That she’s sorry for doing this. That she didn’t want it to be this way.

“I was confused. I asked her what she meant. Why did she apologise? I got one short voice note back. It was just her saying “He will find me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this.” I never heard anything from her after that... But I did see her again. Well... Part of her.

“The next morning my reflection was waiting for me. When he spotted me he grinned at me again, and started writing something on his mirror with lip stick painstakingly slow because he was inverting the letters so I can read it. He wrote “I took care of her for you” and then... Then he held up her head. Just her head. Not her body. Just her head.  Her head with her lips smeared in the same colour lipstick.

“I ran. I got into my car and drove to her place. I found her on the floor, her head was indeed detached with deep cuts and the butchers knife used to do it laid beside her, but her head was still there. I held up my pocket mirror... Her head didn’t have a reflection.

“I immediately called the police. I didn’t know what else to do. They came and they heard my story, but they also found my finger prints on the knife even though I never touched it in my life.

“And now I’m here. Forced by the state to talk to psychologist after psychiatrist after therapist. But I know what happened! It wasn’t me!”

I could hear her scribble. I held my breath, waiting for her to speak.

“Interesting indeed,” she said. “This is the first case I’ve seen where a personality split caused the patient to have hallucinations about your reflection moving with no other symptoms presenting itself. A case of mild depression maybe, considering your lack of sleep and tendency to stay at home, but nothing otherwise. Very interesting.”

“WHY WON’T YOU BELIEVE ME??” I screamed at her, lifting my gaze for the first time.

I saw the glass break, I saw the reflection in her eyes as he used one of the glass pieces to stab at her, saw the blood gushing from her arm that took the brunt of the blow since she lifted it to defend herself. I kept sitting on the couch thinking about how I should not have looked up.