#transgender reader

“Ugh, these doors are so small”.. You thought.

You had to crouch through them, every. Single. Time. Why not bust out of a window? You looked at the wide glass to your left, thinking. Yeah why not.

Jumping through it, you realized that those were really weak windows. They might as well have been just the wall if they were really that weak! You would think that they were tempered at least.

You swim and swim, occasionally stopping to peer into the rooms. Sometimes you’d even knock on the windows to look at the squiddles. The other monsters never appeared, but those ones did.

After passing through many walls and windows, you look into another room. Seeing a tall humanoid like creature just sliding through.

Wait what.

You do a double take, not expecting another one to look like you.

Slightly swaying your legs, you move towards the glass. Putting your hands on it. You can only see the backside of him, looking him up and down. Just out of interest and curiosity.

He stops searching through the drawers and turns to his side, not seeing you. He moves to the next room, and you move right with him. It seems like he’s looking for items.

He looks at the window anddd.. Flinches back, with his palm facing you right in front of his chest. You hear his mumbled yell through the glass.

You wave.

As if you didn’t just startle him.

Smiling really wide, just no teeth showing, your small tail wagging.

You hear him curse. Uhm.. You move to the side and break the window with your fist,

“Oops” You say after putting your head through the hole.

Turning your head, you were going to say hello, but he was gone! You break through the window using your whole body, and fix it up with your… Powers!

“Come back”! You shout, crawling through the doors, each time you did, you saw him.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME”!!

That wasn’t a very good first meeting, but it happened again. You saw him again. And again. And again. You know the drill by now yeah?

By the fourth time, he wasn’t phased.

Sigh, “Are you trying to get on my nerves or something”?

“How? I just want to see you”!

His face scrunches in confusion, “What”.

“I said I just wanted to see you! You’re only making yourself more mad with that temper of yours”.

His face fell monotone, ignoring you as he slithered through the doors.

You followed right behind him, or next to him. He didn’t want you behind him just in case you decided to do something dirty.

You observe him everytime he searches through the drawers, checks under them, and looks through the lockers.

While he was searching through a drawer, you asked a question.

“Why do you search for the items ‘n stuff”?

He closes the drawer, standing up. He turns around to face you.

“Why are you still here with me”?

“You didn’t answer my question”.

“You didn’t answer mine”.

You giggle, “You’re funny, Sebastian”.

He looks surprised that you even know his name, clenching his fists he yells out—

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME”?!

Now it’s your turn to look surprised. 

“From a certain shark”.

He scowls, ‘Dang it Eyefestation’.

“Anywho now that I answered yours, you answer mine”.

“You still didn’t answer my other question”.

“Then let’s take turns”.

You two stared at each other. Each stares having different meaning.

One with danger, confusion, and a small chance of fear.

The other with interest and sincerity.

One not being able to tell if it’s a mask.

The other being able to tell that One is scared.

“... Fine. It’s for my shop that I hold for the other players. Now what about you? Why are you still here with me”?

“Well it’s because I find you quite interesting really. I haven’t seen any other creature—”

‘Creature’?

“— Like you. You seem kinda on edge and I want to get to know you. Personally, I think you have a very kind heart”.

‘Kind heart? What the hell are you even saying’..

Your smile stays on your face, not once lingering. Your left hand gently grips your right wrist while both arms are behind your back. You sway side to side.

“Is your question answered Sebastian”?

“Don’t call me that”.

“Then what should I call you”?

“... Solace. Call me Solace”.

“Oh that’s a nice name. It kind of matches with your icy nature”.

Ughh. He verbally groaned. He slithered over to the next door, going through it, with you of course, following behind him.

Going through a few more doors, you ask—

“Can I see your shop”?

“Yeah fine, whatever. There’s no point since you probably don’t have any data anyways”.

“You use data as a currency? For what”?

“You ask—... Nevermind, yeah, I do. It’s so I could blackmail Urbanshade”.

He halfway turns his head to look at you, stopping.

“You’re not going to use that against me, a- are you”?

‘Shit’.

Your smile falters, realizing that he’s serious. And afraid.

“Of course not! I don’t even know what that is anyways”. You smile.

His mouth slightly opens, surprised.

“You- You’re not one of their experiments”?

“No! I was born like this! My parents were the experiments, but then I escaped”.

Sebastian didn’t say anything. How could you say that so— so happily?! A- And right in front of him too! You two just met h- how could—... How could you trust him so EASILY?!

After a bit of silence, you moved on.

“Anywayss!! I wanna see your shop! Show me”!

You walk ahead, leaving Sebastian standing there by himself baffled. Before he shakes his head and continues to move.

Eventually you two find his shop and you chill.

You see his documents on the table and question him, asking who’s documents are those. He tells you that they’re his.

“Can I buy em”?

“You got 1000 data”?

“I got my backstory”!

“... Sorry, data’s the only currency”.

“Oh man :(”

With your morning drink in hand, you watched the city wake up through the bay window of your living room. The lights of Metropolis came on too early for you to see them first, but the most beautiful sight wasn't man-made. What was worth getting out of bed before ten o'clock was more special, sweeter, and had a charming smile. Superman fluttered through the many buildings that housed the town, performing some sort of security routine. His suit, with its identifiable colors, became like a trail left behind by planes, a mix between a flag blurred by the wind and the northern lights with golden touches. You wished you had super hearing to hear your boyfriend, and thus capture his impeccable breathing in a body that beat the sound barrier. A smile drew a soft line on your face as you imagined the typical phrases of the man you loved. “Take a deep breath, you’re ok now” “Is everybody fine here?” “Oh no problem, that’s my job”.

You left the show playing outside to wash your now-empty mug. You'd be lying if you said that watching Clark play superhero instead of staying in bed with you didn't frustrate you a little. But how could you not? Even the strongest man would have succumbed to the powerful arms you could wake up and fall asleep in.

In any case, Clark probably wasn't going to spend the day outside—at least you hoped not—because it was Saturday and even Superman got weekends.

Putting your thoughts behind you, you went to the bathroom to brush your teeth. The residual scent of Clark having stopped by to do his hair made you smile, as if he didn't realize that even after hours of flying, his hair still looked so good. You grabbed what you needed and began your task, your mind wandering this time to more mundane topics.

Your morning passed like this, at the pace of any human being on a Saturday. You stayed in your pajamas, tidying up the living room and bedroom a bit, doing some laundry—the sort of thing that had to be done despite your wishes.

Around one o'clock, you took a break on the balcony. The fresh air whipped across your face as you closed your eyes, a sigh of well-being rumbling softly in your throat. Suddenly, a surplus of air made you smile, and when you opened your eyes again, you were not surprised to see Superman.

"Nice day, isn't it, young man?" his deliberately deeper voice echoed.

You tilted your head in a smile that only he could make you pull off. Your body bent a little, supported by the protective barrier, and you grasped the collar of his suit with a little gentleness.

"Stop acting like an idiot and kiss me."

All resistance disappeared completely in the man hovering in front of you. It was as if he melted between your fingers, like gold handled at the right temperature. His lips met yours with that delicacy that defined him so well. His body, even in the air, was capable of such gentleness and patience. He pushed you toward the inside of your apartment, never leaving your lips for a single second.

“Did you miss me?" you asked with that smile that always made him arch his back a little.

His hands firmly grasping you, he lifted you both off the floor as high as the living room ceiling would allow. He did this often, it was a way of being alone with you. No one could soar like he did on a daily basis, so no one realized how intoxicating the sensation was. One evening, Clark confessed to you that he compared having you with him above ground to the feeling he experienced when you were intimate. Your two bodies pressed against each other, surrounded by the emptiness and at the same time the fullness of air, there was only you. And ever since you were able to experience a flying kiss, you understood what he meant by that.

"You have no idea" he replied, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

Your hands slid into his brown hair. You hugged him tightly, and he hugged you back so tightly that your back arched somewhat unpleasantly. But even the most horrible pain paled in comparison to the love you felt at that moment.

"Rough morning?" you whispered against his ear.

He nodded softly before letting out a breath that seemed trapped for hours. Slowly, he lowered you a few inches, your feet touching the cool living room floor. You guided him to the nearby couch, and he told you most of his thoughts. You stayed like that for over an hour, though neither of you noticed the time passing.

You placed two cups of hot chocolate on the coffee table, your gaze then lingering on Clark, still in his suit. You smiled, turning back to face him.

"You should change, right? A neighbor might ask questions."

He leaned over to pick up the mug and took a long sip.

"Discretion wasn't an issue when you kissed me earlier," he replied with a smirk.

You nudged him on the shoulder, barely moving him.

"You kissed me!" you retorted, feigning annoyance, but your smile betrayed you.

Your little squabble quickly ended, from fear of spilling hot chocolate on the couch.

"Actually, I wanted to suggest something," Clark began.

You looked up from your mug, a glint of curiosity in your eyes.

"What would you think about flying with me? Other than in the lounge, I mean."

The idea surprised you, but it didn't look distasteful. In fact, you'd already thought about it, but you imagined Clark would refuse because of the risks.

"Why this sudden urge?" you asked, placing your hand on his knee.

His blue gaze avoided yours for a couple of seconds, a slightly embarrassed expression on his face making you even more interested in the subject.

"I guess I want you to see what it's like," he said without much conviction. "It is a bit of a hobby."

You moved closer, close enough for your legs to intertwine and you could speak more quietly.

"I believe you," your voice began, full of mischief, "but you're hiding something from me."

You knew you'd hit the nail on the head when he struggled to maintain eye contact with you.

"Well...yes, maybe," he replied, "maybe I'm a little ashamed or afraid you'll find it weird."

You gave him a look that said, "I'm dating a man from another planet, nothing's weird at this point," and he finally gave up, letting his head fall back a little.

"Okay, I admit it's a little exciting to imagine you with me up there."

You remained silent for a few seconds before cupping his face in one hand so he would look at you.

"Whatever fantasies you have, I love you Clark you know that," you affirmed, "and in the end, it's pretty logical. I mean, you have abilities we don't have, so that unlocks new fantasies." You finished your little speech by kissing the corner of his lips, "and I like the idea."

He was reassured, the blue of his eyes on you again. A second or two passed, just the comforting silence of shared love, then he straightened up and got off the couch, tipping you back a little.

"So? Shall we go?" he asked with that silly grin.

Your gaze screamed "now?" to which his replied "yes, now." You stood up too, quickly finishing your hot chocolate before going into the bedroom to get a jacket. When you returned, Clark had already opened the bay window again, making you smile with his impatience. He cast a questioning glance at the jacket in your hands.

"The higher it gets, the lower the temperature gets, I remind you," you explained, "and unlike you, Mr. Superman, I don't have a super body to protect me from the cold."

Barely had you put your clothes on when Clark grabbed your waist in a movement that almost made you jump.

"But you have a super-boyfriend who'll hold you so tightly that you'll end up feeling hot."

Your laughter was muffled by the muscles two inches from your face. You lifted your head a little, enough to admire your boyfriend's face. In agreement, he tightened his grip on you to avoid any risk—although even if by some miracle you fell, you wouldn't have time to realize it, he'd be moving so fast to catch you.

You took the time to close the bay window behind you, as if it were a front door and you were simply going for a drive through the city. And then, your feet were lifted off the ground, along with your whole body. He was right, it was a hell of a feeling.

Clark didn't get in too fast, knowing that the speeds he was usually going weren't made for your body, and besides, you had plenty of time. No traffic jams, no idiots yelling to move faster. Only the wind whipping your bodies, the oxygen gradually getting stronger, a distant plane on the horizon. There was only him, Superman. Head held high, eyes fixed on the sun. The red cape billowing behind him, hitting your side every two seconds. His chest burning beneath your hand, giving off a heat you suspected he was deliberately creating right now.

You closed your eyes, letting your head rest against the man who made your heart race.

Clark looked down at you, thanking the universe for having someone like you by his side.

You were now around the 100-meter mark, which didn't seem so high when said. Your eyelids had remained closed for most of the journey, but now the cool air hitting your cheeks made you reopen them.

You wanted to raise your head to appreciate Clark once more, but the back of your neck felt like it was frozen. Your brows furrowed. The rhythm in your chest sounded suddenly out of place. The heat against your body made you break out in a cold sweat. The scarlet fabric seemed to be cutting into your skin.

Panic took hold of your body without your permission. Like an authoritarian hand wrapping itself around your suddenly fragile neck. You wanted to breathe, to get some air, to live. But everything stopped. Your body was going to crush, to be shattered, you were sure of that. Your brain was going to implode, leaving a lifeless lump of flesh in your boyfriend's arms, it was inevitable.

Above, Clark opened his mouth to ask you if you were liking the view, but his voice caught when he saw the panic in your eyes. He immediately stopped his ascent.

"Love? Are you okay?"

He ran the hand not holding you against him over your face, but received almost no reaction. His heart was pounding.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice trying not to betray his fear. "Angel, answer me, Angel, are you hurting anywhere?"

His Kryptonian brain was boiling.

A move from Lex? A new enemy? Mentalist? Hypnotist? Did he drug you? Poisoned? Was it really you? A clone? Respond to a trauma you hadn't told him about? A dysphoric moment? A crisis of...

Of course. How stupid was he.

"Listen to my voice, darling," his voice murmured, now less intense. "We are fine, you are with me."

He loosened the pressure on your waist—without putting you in danger, however. His body heat dropped under his command, as did your altitude. His hand cupped your cheek with nameless delicacy, making you raise your face towards his at your own pace. You were greeted by a dimpled smile.

"Stay with me, can you? Love to see your beautiful eyes."

Anxiety attack. That's what was happening to you. No mentalist behind all this, no clone, and absolutely no Lex. Only humanity, and the purest.

Clark spoke to you, again and again, in that same tone low enough to be heard only by your ears. He kept your attention on his words, not on the void that separated you from any natural gravity. And it was working, he could see it. Your features relaxed a little more with each smile, your eyes regaining their usual glow. You were slowly coming to, little by little, in his arms.

A few minutes later, your feet found the familiar ground of your balcony. Clark carried you, clearly seeing your legs unable to support your weight at the moment. He set you down on the couch, snuggled up against him.

Another ten minutes passed, fueled by the same voice, right next to your head, whispering meaningless stories so you knew he was still there. Clark was still there, with you, and he stayed with you until words found their way back to your lips.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Clark immediately took your face in his hands, frowning like a disgruntled child.

"I don't want to hear that," he said. “I'm going to cut off your unnecessary guilt right away. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. An anxiety attack doesn't give warning, it's natural, it happens."

Your eyes filled with tears, and it only made Clark's love for you worse. You rested your cheek against his chest, a long, suppressed sigh escaping your throat.

"You're right," you declared.

"When I was a kid, I used to have them frequently," your boyfriend admitted. "Even Superman has anxiety attacks."

His words relieved you more than you could have imagined, a small sob of relief leaving your lips. You weren't sad, but grateful, to have Clark in your life. He understood this cry, holding you a little tighter against him.

A few tears, needing to escape, wet your cheeks, before all the remaining anxiety completely vanished from your body. You still felt tired, but there was nothing wrong with that, it was Saturday.

"Can we try again later?" you asked.

The Kryptonian laughs, vibrating against you, bringing a smile to your face.

"As many times as necessary," he said, kissing your damp cheeks, "and I'll always be there to bring you back to Earth."

pictures : Pinterest

Everyday Simon has to restrain himself from hugging you and kissing you the moment you’re home. Running a business isn’t easy. You love what you do but, as you explained to him, you still need time to “deflate”. It took him a while to understand deflate meant. When he realized it meant you needed to relax and calm to shift to being home, he asked you how to help or what you needed from him.

Everyday once you lie down, you cover yourself in the softest blanket you own, and take a few deep breaths. Simon hums a greeting to you since talking isn’t something you want to do yet. Sometimes, you want him to join and sometimes you can’t people, even your forever person.

Everyday, maybe half the time, you pat the empty space next to you, you want him close to you. Simon takes off his shirt— revealing his delicious tits and torso with those biceps as perfect pillows—and crawls into bed with you. He has learned to wait for you to initiate physical contact. He learned the hard way when you’re overstimulated how touch is overwhelming and may triggers anxiety for you, like it has for him in the past.

Everyday you’re amazed that Simon is here with you every single day. When you two met, he was active military and always traveling. Attempting a romantic relationship with him just wasn’t worth it yet—not that he had any idea you were interested in him. So, you texted and talked on the phone when he could. You always missed him. He told you how he always loved hearing from you when he came back, no matter what it was.

Everyday when you get home, Simon is glad he decided to retire when his contract renewal came up. He misses the 141–his family he gets to see once or twice a month—but is worth it the moment he sees you next to him in the morning.

Everyday, hindsight being 20/20, he remembers how excited he’d get to hear from you or talk to you especially when he was on leave. He remembers Johnny and Kyle always teasing him about you. They supported him through falling in love with you when he was in denial. He was in denial for a long time. When on leave, you two would spend so much time together even with your friends and family. God, he wanted to kiss you, feel you against him, and hold you so much. No, he wanted to devour you and ruin you for anyone else. He smiles knowing now that he has you.

Everyday you’re glad you waited for him, waited over two years. Christmas that year, your parents were traveling. You couldn’t afford it but didn’t care. You wanted to spend it with Simon. It was just the two of you that year. You two fell asleep on the couch watching Christmas movies and getting a bit drunk (you become cuddly when you’re buzzed). Presents that year were very personal: you gave him a copy of your birth certificate showing your assigned sex—revealing you’re transgender—and he gave you his DD214.

Everything changed that day.

Everyday you’re thankful Simon didn’t care you are trans. It didn’t change anything for him. He wanted you for you, whatever that was or will be.

Everyday Simon waits for your touch, knowing it will come but not when. Today, you scoot over to him, lay on his bicep, and lay your arm on his abdomen. Smiling at how you love skin contact. Touch is one of your love languages and Simon revels in it. Once you start, he rolls onto his side, wraps his arms around you, and kisses your hair.

Everyday on some days actually, you whine and sit up to take off your undershirt and boxer briefs. You pull down Simon’s own boxer briefs, demanding naked cuddles. (Ignoring Simon being half hard. It seems he always is nowadays. Lol.) With your short stature, you straddle his abdomen before lying down to nuzzle against his neck. He grabs your blanket and lays it on you and him. It’s the perfect size for you.

The soft, serene sound of water laps just outside; the waterfalls within the walls of Zora’s Domain filling the room with the ambience anyone would dream to hear when getting ready for their nights sleep. But here you are; your thoughts absolutely racing.

You and Sidon had been married for sometime now, your anniversary very close on the horizon. He was everything to you. And you to him. And since being crowned King, his life was more busy than ever. But he always made time for you, canceling any meeting if you needed that extra time with him. 

But this felt different. 

For months, you’ve been keeping him at a distance, not really understanding why. At first, you believed the main contributor to these intimacy issues were due to the fact that you’d both been dealing with an overwhelming amount of stress from these new roles. But the more you delved into it, the more you realized that that wasn’t the case. You’ve noticed just how much you’ve been hiding yourself; just how uncomfortable you are in this role, being called ‘the Queen of Zora’s Domain’. Just the thought of it made your skin crawl. But it’s not like you can express that feeling to Sidon. Not when you can barely comprehend it yourself. So for these past few months, you’ve been hiding how you’ve felt from your sweet husband, only writing these thoughts in your private journal… which you know he’d never touch, even if he did have your permission.

But… tonight it hits you.

And it hits you hard.

Sidon enters your shared suite, opening the door to the bedroom as he removes his royal garments and jewelry. He glances over at you, eyeing your figure in your night dress as he disrobes and gets himself ready for bed. But his expression falters as he sees you wiping your eyes hastily. “What’s wrong, my love?” He asks quietly, stepping over beside you.

“Nothing—” you reply shortly, trying to hide your face. “I’m fine.”

“Darling…” he sits beside you, his hand reaching for the small of your back. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“Sidon… I, um—”

Your heart pounds, tears threatening to fall once again. Sidon’s eyes are on you, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your skin. 

“I think I might be a boy…”

The words come out before you can think, your muscles tensing upon hearing yourself speak. Sidon’s eyes widen, not expecting such a response. He watches as your eyes fixate on the sheets below you, knowing that you probably feel embarrassed for even thinking something like that. “Oh, honey… Come here.” 

He pulls you into his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Hey… It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

You try to speak, but you can’t; your body beginning to renew its cycle of intense emotion. All that’s coming out of your mouth is incoherent sobs; curling into yourself as your body convulses with each breath you take. Sidon’s heart aches for you. He holds you tighter, his frame encapsulating your body with all the warmth and love a husband could give. He kisses along the side of your head, over and over and over, trying his best to soothe your cries. “Shh shh shh…” he whispers. “Hey… Can you look at me for a moment? Please?”

It takes everything in you to look at him, feeling all that guilt build up in your chest; feeling all the self hatred and loathing rising once again. But you look up at him, seeing those golden eyes filled with so much affection and care. 

“There you are…” He smiles, his hand caressing your cheek gently, wiping your tears as his own threaten to fall. “My sweet love…”

He just holds you for a while, not saying a word as he lets you cry it out. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, planting small kisses anywhere his lips can reach. And once you’re finally calmed down enough, he pulls away slightly to look at you once more. “Does my handsome love think he can speak now?”

The way that sentence spills from his mouth makes your heart skip a beat, as if he didn’t even have to think about the situation. And his smile. God his smile…

The tears return. But that good feeling remains.

“Did you like that?” he asks gently.

You nod.

He adjusts his grip on you to pull you even closer, placing another soft kiss on your wrist. “Is there a reason you’re just bringing this up?” he continues, his tone softer than ever. “I have a feeling you’ve been keeping this bottled up for quite some time.”

You sniffle, trying to compose yourself just the slightest bit. “It just kind of hit me all at once tonight…” you cry. “I don’t know how I didn’t realize it sooner. Granted, I’m not the most masculine of entities that exists, but… still… I should have—”

“That’s okay.” he replies, cutting off the hurtful words that were to exit your lips. “You don’t have to know everything about yourself right away.” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m just glad you told me.”

You’re silent, looking down at the sheets again. Sidon lifts your chin, giving you that soft; reassuring smile. “This doesn’t change anything, you know that right?” he adds. “You’re still the same person I fell in love with, whether you’re a girl; a boy; or just an entity that exists in this world.” He wipes another tear from your cheek. “And if you feel like a boy, then… maybe you should explore that feeling.”

Looking back up ay him, there’s a hint of surprise in your eyes. “You’re not—” You get choked up a bit from the tears. “You’re not mad…?”

“Why would I be mad over such trivial matters?” He asks, a bit confused. But that smile remains. “I married you because I love you. It might take some time for me to get used to this change, but…” he let’s out a soft breath, leaning his forehead against yours. “But that will never change how I feel about you… about us…” 

He takes a moment to just take in the sight of you, his hand beginning to trace gentle circles on the small of your back once more; his eyes glued to yours. “I’m so proud of you.”

You can’t help but cling onto him a little tighter, all those negative feelings being lifted from your shoulders. “Thank you…”

“For what? Doing my duties as your husband?” he chuckles. “I’ll never not be proud of you.”

He moves you off of his lap and back onto the mattress, patting the edge of the bed as he gets up from his spot. “Now if you’ll sit here… I need to do this correctly.”

You do as he says, your feet dangling off the edge now. He kneels down in front of you, taking your hand into his. His eyes glitter from the engraved luminous stone walls, that same gleam from all that time ago. You can’t help but feel your heart leap with affection for him. But this time… 

This time you feel seen for who you truly are.

He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, speaking in an almost whisper.

“Hold still, sweetheart, I’m gonna count to three.”

“Mmm, not too fast, not too fast—” you try not to squeak, though your voice comes out much higher-pitched than you mean to. A little jolt runs through your body, a tiny flight instinct that makes you curl your fingers into the bathmat beneath you. How you’d ended up on the floor, you can’t quite explain, but it feels safest with Bucky sitting right across from you on the tile.

He holds up the dreaded needle, already out of its sterile package and full of what he lovingly calls your personal supersoldier serum. Once a month, you sit with your shorts pulled above your thigh and try not to tense up as Bucky personally injects your hormone replacement therapy.

You’d been nervous to ask him the first time. You knew he had a bad relationship with needles, anything medical-related really, but he was your daddy and you’re bad at hiding when you’re nervous about something. That’s what he said, at least, when he pulled you into his lap after dinner and asked in that soft, gravelly voice, what’s going on in that little head, doll? You’d tried to brush it off, of course, but it wasn’t long at all before you admitted the source of your anxiety: doing your monthly shot.

It was awful by yourself. You hated it. You hated the smell of the alcohol wipes, hated fumbling with bandaids when you were already crying from the needle, hated everything about the needle itself. Bucky’s never pushed you to share that experience with him, but it had been quickly dawning how much you wanted to.

So now, here you are, just like every month since then. You hold your pajama shorts up, head turning away from the offending object entirely as soon as it glints in the light. The shot is a huge part of what makes you able to breathe in your own skin, but that’s never meant you didn’t despise every part of the process.

“Easy does it, honey,” he murmurs under his breath, putting his flesh hand on your leg to steady it. You can’t help but whimper even at the cold alcohol swab, but he doesn’t make fun of you, not ever. You focus all your energy on staying relaxed and not thinking about the inevitable feeling of the—

“Done,” he exhales as you let out the tiniest noise at the sensation of the needle leaving your skin. You inhale once, sharply, and then again much slower as he presses a bandage over the sore spot. Your eyes don’t even shine with tears as you look down and smile at the cat print band-aid.

“We have regular ones,” you say shyly, though it’s obvious you’re pleased to see the fun print. He grins back at you and plants a kiss to your hair before moving to wash his hands.

“Yeah, but you’re too little for pointy things anyways, punk,” he hums, making your cheeks warm. “Let the grown-ups handle it. You worry about the next box of band-aids we’re gonna buy.”