#everyone’s here to help. you just need to let us.

[thestuffedalligator]

The thing was a mound of flesh and mottled skin, as big as a barn and the shape of a pumpkin. Four tentacles as thick as trees hung limp at its sides; teeth ringed the gaping mouth at the top of its head like a crown.

A huge, sad whale eye the colour of wine stared at the knight. She could see her reflection in the jelly surface.

“We don’t know what it is,” she heard. “Some kind of monster that makes a perfect copy of whatever it eats. They think that was how the Dark Lord made his armies, feeding his minions to it so that it would make hundreds of copies of them. Do you recognize it?”

The knight opened her mouth. She hesitated. “Yeah,” she murmured, drawing out the word. “We found it in the Dark Lord’s tower, right?”

“That’s right. That’s where it ate you.”

The knight turned around and looked at her other reflection. This one appeared to be about ten years older, and had doffed her armor for a loose blue tunic and breeches.

She was holding a cup of tea. She had pressed another cup into the knight’s hand when she woke up here. It had been a shock finding herself suddenly out the obsidian dungeons of the Dark Lord’s tower and into this tall room of stone and straw. The warmth of it in her hands steadied her a bit.

“Everyone else in the party was worried, but then it started making copies of you,” the copy went on, staring up at the tentacled thing. “And all of the copies helped fight against the Dark Lord, and we won, and peace was restored across the land, but then nobody could figure out how to kill the damn thing or just to make it stop. Dozens of copies of us in a day, hundreds in a week, and then someone decided that the only thing we could do is just bring the thing here, seal it off and hope it starved to death.”

She sipped her tea. “Anyways, that was two-hundred years ago and it’s slowed down a bit. It can only make a new copy of us every few weeks now.”

The knight looked down into her tea. The copy had also draped a blanket over her shoulders.

“I have so many questions,” she said.

“I figured.”

“How can it be two-hundred years? I can still remember breaking into the tower. That feels like it was just minutes ago.”

“It was, basically. Your brain is a perfect copy of the original you’s brain at the exact moment she was eaten.”

“But the quest is just — done?”

“Yep. You missed some of the things that needed tying up afterward. There was a war, and a dragon, and some business about a ring.” She waved a hand. “It was before my time. Things are pretty settled now.”

“My parents?”

“Passed away about a hundred-and-fifty years ago. I’ve been told that they were very proud.”

The knight nodded. “Um. I don’t know if you know — we had an elf in our party—”

“I’m aware.”

“I — right. Obviously. Um. It’s just, after everything was done, I was going to ask her—”

“One of us did. She said yes. She outlived her. A couple of us have tried to reach out since then, but she wants to be left alone for a while.”

The knight considered this. “Uh — right,” she said eventually. Her fingers tightened around the tea cup. “Um. What do I do now?”

Her older copy shrugged. She had let her hair grow out again, the knight noticed. There were a few strands of grey against the black. “That’s up to you, I’m afraid,” she said. “A lot of us are finding work as soldiers and sellswords. We’ve done it for so long that most armies know we’re reliable and don’t tend to turn one of us away. Most of us are just sort of spreading out, wandering the world. Some of us keep in touch.”

The knight frowned. “What do you do?”

Her copy paused, tea cup half raised to her lips. “Sorry?”

“You said it only makes a new copy every few weeks now. So you just stay here and wait for a new one to show up?”

She lowered the cup. “Well,” she said. “I guess I just — I know what it can be like, waking up here in the dark, and it — it can be horrible trying to figure all of this out on your own.

“So I thought that what I’d do is just stay here with a pot of tea, and whenever I see myself again, I tell her that — that she’s not alone.”

“We aren’t?”

“Of course not. We’re all in this together, you know.”

[jobean12-blog]

Midnight Confessions

Light SPOILERS ahead!!!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: A late night gives you the opportunity to flirt with Bucky and the next night he comes right back for more.

Author's Note: There are some Thunderbolts spoilers here- none really story related so much but more character driven. So reader BEWARE :D I had fun writing all the ridiculous dialogue in the beginning and it's a bit chaotic but I hope it makes you smile! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun and fluff, flirtiness, tension, sweetness

You set the timer and place it on the counter, leaning back with a sigh. While it seems everyone else in the tower is asleep, you’re as wide awake as the bustling city below. This is the second batch of cookies you’ve made this week, but no one seems to be complaining.

After contemplating something on the TV you decide instead to read, hoping it will make you sleepy.

No such luck and just as you’re starting the next chapter you see a dark shadow at the entrance of the kitchen, you’re body stiffening.

“It’s just me doll.”

At the sound of Bucky’s voice, you instantly relax.

“Jeez you’re quiet,” you whisper.

He chuckles lightly and steps into the kitchen. His hair is slightly mussed as if he’s been running a hand through it and his tee shirt clings to the broad lines of his chest and toned biceps. With a hard swallow you let your eyes drop lower, to the way his pants sit low on his waist but still hug his thighs.

“Can’t sleep?” you squeak out, dragging your gaze back to his face.

He shakes his head no and moves closer, revealing a surprise. The guinea pig Yelena rescued from the lab sits atop his left shoulder, tucked close to his neck and partially hidden by his hair.

You sit up with a gasp and rush over to him, cooing quietly and without a word plucking the piglet from his shoulder.

“What are you doing up?” you ask the guinea pig in a sweet voice.

“I probably should have let him sleep but as soon as I made noise he started squeakin’.”

You look up at Bucky and notice his soft expression as he watches you with the guinea pig.

“It’s a boy?” you ask.

“Actually, I don’t know,” he replies.

“Hmm,” you say as you pet it’s soft fur. “I bet it’s a girl.”

“That works too,” he smiles. “Are you making cookies?”

“I am…they should be out…,” and you walk over to the timer, “in three minutes.”

“Great doll. I could use a snack!” He slowly rubs his stomach as he stretches, revealing the dark trail of hair that disappears enticingly into his sweats.

The guinea pig squeaks and draws your attention away before he catches you staring.

“She needs a name,” you state as you cradle her in your arm.

Bucky is silent for a moment before he blurts out, “Cookie.”

“That’s cute,” you giggle, “but I think you’re just hungry.”

He doesn’t disagree and keeps thinking.

“She’s brown and white so…BACON!”

You stop petting the piglet and narrow your eyes at Bucky.

He holds his hands up in surrender, but you can see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners as he tries to hold back a smile.

“Are you going to wash the dishes?”

Bob’s voice is so low you almost don’t hear it but Bucky spins around at the sound.

“Bob!” both you and Bucky exclaim.

“What’s going on in here?” Bob asks as he looks between you and Bucky.

“We can’t sleep, and I made cookies,” you explain.

“And we’re trying to give the guinea pig a name,” Bucky adds.

“Ok,” Bob says. “I’m going to wash the dishes.”

“Do you want help?” you ask him. “I can dry the bowls.”

“Sure,” Bob says.

You hand the guinea pig back to Bucky. “Don’t get comfy. I want her back when I’m done.”

“Anything you want doll,” he says with a wink.

“How about Piglet?” Bob chimes from the sink.

“Like in Winnie the Pooh?” you ask as you slide up next to him and take the first bowl to dry it.

“Yeah…she’s kinda tiny…,” Bob says.

“So, you think she’s a girl too!” you say happily. “Bucky was calling it a he.”

“Not because I don’t think it could be a girl…I just…said he first.”

“It’s a girl,” Yelena says as she walks in.

“See! I knew it!” you sing song.

“What is going on here?” Yelena asks.

“None of us could sleep,” Bob answers. “So, we’re making cookies, washing dishes and naming the guinea pig.”

“Are the cookies ready yet?” Yelena asks, eyeing the oven.

“Just about,” you answer.

“Bob suggested Piglet…but I like Bacon,” Bucky says to fill Yelena in.

“Of course you would say Bacon,” she tsks. “I like Piglet.”

“Do I smell cookies?”

Walker strides in and heads straight for the oven.

“HEY Walker,” you whisper shout. “They’ll be out in a minute.”

He stops and plops himself down on a stool at the island with a huff.

“Why didn’t anyone invite me to the party?” he says.

“Because you’re an asshole,” but you and Yelena chime simultaneously but not without a smile pulling at each of your mouths.

“Can I least have some cookies,” Walker asks.

“Of course,” you tell him.

“Why don’t you name the pig, Hamlet,” Walker adds.

Everyone is quiet for a minute and tries to hide their smiles. “Actually, that’s cute,” you say, “but we’ve decided it’s a girl so maybe something…more…girly.”

Walker rests his chin in his hands but remains silent.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Ava says, appearing from the other side of the wall.

Bob startles at the sink and Walker rolls his eyes.

“No one can sleep, we are about to eat cookies, and we need a name for our girl guinea pig,” Yelena sums up quickly before opening the oven just as the timer dings.

“Pipsqueak,” Ava says flatly.

Yelena smiles. “I like that. She does squeak…a lot.”

“But she’s brave,” Bob says. “She survived the lab. I wouldn’t call her a pipsqueak.”

“But Piglet is scared of everything isn’t he?” Bucky muses. “So that wouldn’t work either.”

“Oh,” Bob sighs. “Yeah, he is.”

“Still like Bacon,” Bucky mumbles to himself.

“WHO SAID BACON?” Alexei booms when he walks in. “We eat?”

Yelena hangs her head with a sigh and Ava rolls her eyes.

“No bacon,” Bucky says sadly. “But we have cookies.”

“Hm, that will do,” Alexei says as he walks over to Yelena and pulls out the hot tray with his hand.

“You should let them cool,” you say to Alexei as he goes to grab for one.

“No, no…I like them all gooey and melted and messy…” He pops half the cookie in his mouth and hums happily.

Bucky slides over; the guinea pig nestled in the crook of his metal arm as he grabs for a cookie.

Walker reaches over the island to grab his own.

“They’re still hot guys!” you scold but give up with a sigh when half the tray is gone in under a minute. “You better grab one,” you whisper to Bob.

He turns from the sink and wipes his hand, reaching for a cookie and placing it on a napkin near him. “I’ll let mine cool,” he says with a small smile.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence and lots of mumbled praises over the cookies, you ask, “so what are we naming the guinea pig?”

Alexei yells out, “ALEXEI!”

Everyone answers with a determined, “NO!”

Alexei deflates and takes another cookie.

“So far we ruled out all the suggestions,” you say, leaning back on the counter next to Bucky.

Without prompting he hands you the guinea pig. You gently hold her up and look her over.

“I have so many ideas but none of them seem to fit,” you huff.

“All mine are related to food,” Bucky shrugs.

“I still like Alexei,” Alexei grumbles.

“Hamlet isn’t girly enough,” Walker says.

“Piglet and Pipsqueak make her sound too timid,” Ava adds.

Finally, Yelena says, “what about Nat?”

All eyes turn to her, soft with unspoken words.

“That’s perfect,” you say quietly and everyone agrees.

Once the few remaining cookies are packed away and the kitchen is clean you walk over to Bucky who’s leaning against the wall, Nat once again cradled against his chest in the crook of his metal arm.

“She likes that spot,” you say quietly as you gently stroke her back.

“Yeah, maybe because it’s cool,” he says and then softly touches her nose as it twitches.

You watch him for a moment, so sweet and gentle with the little furball.

“You’re so cute,” you say softly.

“She is right,” Bucky agrees.

“She meant you super soldier,” Alexei chuckles from behind you. “Not pig.”

“She’s a guinea pig Dad,” Yelena dead pans.

Alexei waves his had dismissively. “All same.”

Your eyes meet Bucky’s, and you see the tops of his cheeks, just above all the dark stubble lining them, turn light pink.

“You meant little Nat right?” he asks.

“She definitely meant the guinea pig,” Walker says with a yawn as he walks by. “I’m goin’ to bed.”

Ava follows close behind him. “Me too. And she meant you Barnes.”

Alexei slaps Bucky hard on the back, jostling Nat in his arms and Bucky glares.

“Oh. Right, sorry,” Alexei mumbles then smiles wide. “She thinks you are cute.”

He walks away rubbing his stomach.

Only Yelena and Bob remain, Yelena with a smirk lifting her lips and Bob with wide eyes.

Your eyes stay on Bucky, and you lean in closer, still petting Nat. “No. I meant you. You’re really cute. Especially with her. It’s sweet.”

“She said he’s cute,” Bob whispers to Yelena who’s full on smiling now.

“Da,” Yelena nods, grabbing Bob’s arm to pull him down the hall.

“Does she like him?” Bob asks as he passes by you and Bucky.

Yelena laughs but doesn’t answer and keeps tugging him away.

The two of you are now alone and you watch Bucky’s gaze quickly drop to your lips before he says a quiet, “thanks.”

“Hope you can get some sleep,” you tell him then kiss his cheek. “Night.”

“Night, doll,” he whispers as he watches you walk to your room.

The next night when you’re still awake after midnight you head to the common room but when you don’t see a sign of anyone else you decide to go watch a movie until you fall asleep. The light knock on your door an hour later surprises you and when you open it to find Bucky on the other side you’re even more surprised.

“I didn’t wake you did I doll?” he asks in a rush.

“No, don’t worry. I was watching a movie.”

“I thought I saw light under the door so I figured you might still be up.”

“Did you want more cookies? The leftovers are in the cabinet.”

“Actually…Alexei ate them all. I checked…”

You snort laugh and grab Bucky’s hand, pulling him through the doorway.

“Of course he did,” you say as you plop down on the small couch.

Bucky follows and then stands there as if he’s unsure what to do next.

“You can sit,” you tell him.

He does.

“Are you watching The Goonies?”

“I am!” you say excitedly. “I’m so glad you’ve seen it.”

“Classic 80s.”

“Exactly,” you agree.

You settle back into the cushions and let your shoulder brush his. As the movie continues your body relaxes against him and he lifts his arm to rest it along the back of the couch. His fingers brush your shoulder and when he feels your skin pebble beneath his touch he does it again. Your breath catches in your throat and you audibly swallow.

The movie ends and you’re still pressed against him, his arm now circling your shoulders as his fingertips ghost over your skin.

“That’s one of my favorites,” you say and turn to meet his eyes.

“Mine too,” he whispers, curling his fingers around your arm so you turn your body into his.

His eyes wander over your face, their soft reverence only sharpened when they stop on your lips.

“Doll…I…”

Whatever he wants to say is lost in the moment and he presses his mouth to yours, softly at first, but when you slide your fingers into his hair and tug him closer, he hums low in his chest and deepens it, parting your lips.

His knuckles skim down your arm before splaying at your back and pulling you into his lap. His hand slips under your shirt, every caress of his fingertips slow and teasing as if he’s savoring every moment and committing it to memory. His kisses are sweet and languid and the hair lining his face scratches the soft column of your neck as his lips trail downward to your hammering pulse.

A deep and satisfied hum rumbles through his chest and you press yourself closer, feeling the hard lines of his muscle beneath his shirt.

“Bucky,” you whimper.

He lifts his head to stare at you, his breathing fast. His metal thumb lifts to trace your swollen bottom lip before he slides it behind your neck and brings your lips back to his, nibbling the same spot then soothing it with his tongue.

You moan into his mouth and the sound snaps what little control he’s holding on to and suddenly you’re flipped to your back, your wrists in his metal hand and pinned above your head. His eyes teasingly trail over your body, and you go pliant in his hold, your legs falling open as he settles between them.

He leans down, dipping his head to run his nose along your neck, breathing you in before his lips are on yours again.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, his hand releasing your wrists and sliding lower to stroke your curves. “I knew you would be.”

“You’ve thought about it?” you ask as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, licking his lips. “I came over here with the intention to ask you out on a date…”

“Is this not…?”

He cuts you off. “This is exactly what I want…you’re what I want. I’m just…trying to be a gentleman.”

Your lips form an O shape, and he kisses you again.

“I’ll go on a date with you Bucky,” you murmur between kisses.

“Good, that’s good,” he says, his warm hands continuing their exploration of your body while his lips trail down your neck.

You arch into him and slide your hands from his hair down his back, scraping lightly with your nails.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

When his eyes lift to yours he wears a pained expression.

“A gentleman,” he repeats.

“Right. A date,” you say.

“Fuck,” he mutters again but doesn’t move an inch.

You stare at each other, the tension building in the small space between you before he dips his head and kisses you again. His lips find the spot just below your ear and he whispers, “if you don’t tell me to go now…”

“I don’t want you to go Bucky. I want you to stay. I want you.”

[dixons-sunshine]

‘Cause I’m So Into You | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone could see the hearts in your eyes whenever Joel Miller entered the room. The way you naturally gravitated towards him, the way you sought him out in a crowd, all of it. Joel, however, appeared oblivious to your crush, not having any idea about your feelings... or did he?

Genre: Smut

Era: Jackson!Joel

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of unrequited feelings, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, a lot of petnames from Joel (darling, baby, etc), no use of y/n, maybe ooc Joel.

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: This took embarrassingly long to finish writing, and I’m not 100% sure how I feel about this, but I hope you all like it nonetheless! And thank you to the amazing @dixonsdarkelf for hyping this up 💜 (and for having to listen to me say “I need to finish this Joel fic” for two weeks lol)

Anyone could see that you had the biggest crush on the brooding, grumpy Joel Miller. Anyone could see the way your mood brightened whenever he entered the room, how you hung on to every word he uttered, how you jumped at any opportunity to be around the man, no matter how insignificant the task was you offered to help him with. Anyone could see the hearts in your eyes whenever Joel Miller was the topic of discussion or anywhere in your vicinity.

Everyone except the man himself. Joel appeared completely oblivious to your feelings, and it both relieved and frustrated you to no end. Relief because he didn’t know about them, yet frustrated because maybe if he did know about them, he could inevitably let you down and you could try and get over the crush you had on him.

But he didn’t, and despite your best efforts, the man infiltrated every crevice of your mind. He was the starring attraction in your daydreams, and that was not about to change anytime soon.

Bounding up the porch steps with a heavy sigh but a polite smile, you knocked on the front door and waited for a response. You tightly gripped the container in your hands, two sandwiches inside of it. You quietly braced yourself as you heard the unmistakable sound of Joel’s voice yelling “come in!” from someone inside the damaged home, opening the door and pushing inside.

“Joel?” you called out tentatively, your eyes scanning over the mess that was the inside of the run down house. Dirt and grime covered the walls, the wood of the floor had begun to rot and somehow, an astonishing amount of small rocks covered every area of the house.

The home had been neglected for years, and it clearly showed.

“In here!”

Following the direction of his call, you made your way down the narrow hallway and into what appeared to be a bedroom, if the lone mattress in the corner was anything to go by. There, smack in the middle of the room, sitting cross legged on the floor, was Joel Miller, clad in a gray button down shirt, black jeans that had seen better days, his hair an unruly mess of curls on top of his head, and sporting a pair of reading glasses. His eyes, brown like the sweetest chocolate, flickered up from the object in his hand to meet yours, sending a nod of acknowledgement towards you.

“What can I do for you, darlin’?” Joel asked easily, his gruff, southern twang sending shivers over your spine. Was it just you, or was there something insanely hot about the way his accent made his speech sound?

Clearing your throat, you lifted the container in your hands, showcasing the sandwiches you had prepared for him—all under the guise to potentially spend more time with the man. “I made lunch,” you said, an easy smile spreading across your face. “Tommy said that he couldn’t get you to leave and eat something, so I thought I’d bring you some food.”

Joel didn’t say anything for a moment. He simply stared at you, peering up through his glasses—the glasses that made him look so much hotter, if that was even humanly possible—before allowing a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips. Clearing his throat, he placed the object—what appeared to be a broken cuckoo clock—down on the ground and pushed himself up, dusting his hands on his jeans before stepping closer to you.

“Well that’s awfully kind of you,” Joel began, reaching to take the Tupperware from your grasp. “Thank you.”

When Joel’s fingers brushed against yours, it was like electricity shot through your veins and spread through your whole body. Your heart sped up to a rate that was unnatural, your skin felt warm and your palms felt clammy. It was insane how Joel could affect you this much with something as simple as a mere brush of his fingers against yours.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to compose yourself. You would think that after months of this one-sided pining, you’d have gotten better at pretending like Joel didn’t have any affect on you. But alas, he did.

And those goddamn reading glasses did nothing to stop your mind from drifting in far more nefarious directions.

“You’re welcome,” you said with a smile, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your pants. After a few beats of silence, you spoke up again, “What are you working on?”

Meeting your eyes once more, Joel offered an easy—albeit slightly awkward—smile, something that you’d seen him do more and more as he settled into Jackson and got familiar with life inside the safety of the walls, though it never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “A clock for Maria,” he explained, opening the lid of the container and taking one of the sandwiches out. “I accidentally broke it a few days ago and she seemed real upset ‘bout it. Figured it’d be a good way to get back into her good graces, fixin’ it and whatnot.”

Laughing lightly, you nodded. “Oh, so that’s why she told me not to waste the ‘good meat’ on you.”

“Probably.”

Joel managed a small chuckle, taking a bite of the sandwich and closing his eyes in satisfaction, a deep, low groan resonating from his chest, and it made a jolt of heat flash through your body. Not now, you reminded yourself. Now is definitely not the time.

“Good?” you asked shakily, your eyes unwillingly trailing down to the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Joel nodded. “Real good.” He took another bite. “I didn’t even realize how hungry I was,” he told you through the mouthful, his words truthful. He hadn’t eaten all day, so this meal was a godsend.

You were immensely surprised by his admission. You remembered the time you could barely get a word out of the man, much less a confession like that.

Subtly shaking your head to bring you back to reality, you smiled at him. “That’s what happens when you don’t take care of yourself, Miller,” you joked, trying your hardest to keep your eyes locked on his.

Joel chuckled a little. “Guess so.”

The silence between the two of you stretched on for a good number of seconds. In the few months that you’d known Joel, you had come to realize that he was a man of few words, keeping conversations straightforward and to the point. This was probably the longest conversation you’d had with the man since meeting him.

Yet despite that fact, your crush grew stronger with each day that passed.

You shifted your weight from one leg to the other, nervously fiddling with your fingers. You tried your absolute best to appear confident, nonchalant, like his mere presence wasn’t doing things to you, making your mind wander in every unholy direction it could. The term “down bad” fit you like a glove to a hand.

“Well I should probably leave you to… all this.” You vaguely gestured around the room. “You probably didn’t just come here to fix a broken clock.”

Joel took the last sandwich and closed the lid of the container. “Wish it was that easy.” He handed it back to you, and you watched the way those glasses of his slightly slipped down the bridge of his nose. “Thanks for the food. Appreciate it.”

“No problem. See you later?”

Joel nodded. “See you.”

With a parting smile, you walked out of the room, before stopping in the hallway. You wanted to leave, but you also wanted to plant yourself down with him and keep him company. However, you knew Joel liked the silence, and he hadn’t asked you to stay, so you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. You knew what you had to do. You needed to leave, go back home, possibly go immerse yourself in tidying up the place or relaxing on the couch with one of those crappy romance books you borrowed from Maria.

So why couldn’t you bring yourself to leave?

Your feet started moving on their own accord. You made your way back into the room where Joel was, and you stopped in your tracks when you saw he hadn’t moved from the spot you left him in. The sandwich you had made him was gone, probably eaten in your temporary absence, his glasses perched atop the small, wobbly table behind him, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you…

Knowingly? Was he looking at you knowingly?

Your breath got caught in your throat, your heart speeding up at the prolonged eye contact. Joel stayed still, silent, waiting for you to make the first move. His brown, coffee-like eyes flickered over your face, and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze, despite being fully clothed. It was like he could see into your soul, read your thoughts like they were words in a book, and it sent shivers over your spine.

And then, unable to stop yourself, the words came out like word vomit.

“I like you,” you blurted out quickly, your mouth working faster than your brain. Stop, you told yourself. Run away and forget this ever happened. Say that you were just joking and move on with your life.

Joel quirked an eyebrow at you, his face stoic and neutral, not showing anything about what he might be feeling. “What?”

Fuck, now look what you did, you chided yourself. However, despite your fight or flight kicking in, with the latter feeling extremely tempting, you didn’t go anywhere. You sighed and straightened your posture, deciding that it was now or never. Maybe by doing this, he could finally let you down and you could move on with your life. Maybe by letting you down, you would be able to look back on this moment years from now and laugh at how ridiculous this little—well, huge—crush was. Just maybe.

“I like you,” you reiterated, screwing your eyes shut. “I like you a lot, more than I’m probably supposed to like you. I tried not to, but I can’t help it. You’re just… you, and this stupid crush just keeps getting bigger. So please, let me down so that I can get over it and move on with my life.”

The silence that followed your confession was almost deafening. One could hear a pin drop, that’s how quiet it was. You kept your eyes closed, unable to even look at Joel. You weren’t sure what you would see on his face. Would it be anger? Amusement? Indifference? Or worse... disgust?

The sound of the floorboards creaking filled the air, and then you felt a presence in front of you, accompanied by the press of something warm against your cheek. You gasped and opened your eyes, standing nearly toe to toe with Joel, his eyes locked on yours. If your heart was beating fast before, it was nothing compared to the way it galloped like a horse now.

“Oh, darlin’,” he spoke up, his words slow, careful, almost like he was testing the waters, “you think I didn’t know?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

Your breathing grew quicker, Joel’s gaze intense as he peered at you, that half smirk you had grown accustomed to present on his handsome features. His hand—still cupping your face—was rough, calloused, marked with years of hard work and labour, both before and after the world went up in flames, both metaphorically and literally speaking.

“You really think I’m that blind?” Joel spoke up, snapping you from your thoughts. “Sweetheart, I don’t need glasses to see how you’re feelin’.” He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, the action sending goosebumps over your flesh, and used his other hand to remove the now infamous reading glasses. “You think you’re so good at hidin’ it, but you ain’t. Not really.”

You were left speechless, both from the close proximity to Joel—you had never been this close to him before—and the fact that he knew. He knew all along? No, that wasn’t possible. Wouldn’t he have said something?

“I—what? You—I—”

Joel’s smirk grew the tiniest bit. “Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay, baby. Calm down.”

Calm down? With him standing close enough that you could feel his body heat? With his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin so softly, so tenderly, like you were fine porcelain he was scared he would break? With his lips so close, all you had to do was lean in and capture them with yours and finally make that dream a reality?

Yeah, you definitely would not be calming down anytime soon.

“You knew?” you finally managed to choke out, your eyes wide.

Joel nodded, raising his other hand so that he could cup both of your cheeks in his hands. “Subtlety ain’t your strong suit.” He tilted his head slightly, his eye contact never wavering. “You want me to let you down? Say that I don’t think ‘bout you?”

“I—” you began, before getting cut off.

“You want me to lie to you? ‘Cause if that’s what you want, I’m afraid that I can’t make that happen.”

You were speechless. There was absolutely no way this was happening right now. You must be dreaming, because there was no way Joel Miller was saying all these things to you.

Joel wet his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, his eyes darting down to your lips. “May I?”

Your heart was pounding out of your ribcage at this point. There was no way this was happening. You were convinced you were dreaming. Was Joel Miller actually asking if he could kiss you?

Slowly nodding, you said in a quiet whisper, “Yes.”

With that, Joel ducked his head and slanted his mouth across yours, capturing your lips in a deep, searing kiss. There was nothing gentle about this kiss; it was messy, urgent, almost yearning, like two lovers reuniting after years apart. You wrapped your arms around his neck and eagerly matched his movements, savouring the feeling that you had wanted, had craved, for so long. If this was the only time you would be able to experience this, you wanted to have it engraved into your mind for eternity.

Joel’s hands moved from your face, trailing down your shoulders, the curve of your waist, down to your hips and curling around your body to gently squeeze your ass. You gasped, and Joel didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned at the taste of him—the aftertaste of the meat that had been in his sandwich, mixed with the faintest hint of whiskey and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He tasted delicious.

Joel pulled back slightly to look at you, your mouths connected by a single string of saliva. “Jump,” he said breathlessly, tapping the side of your leg.

Eagerly complying with his command, you jumped, easily being caught and held in Joel’s strong embrace. Without wasting a second, his lips were back on yours, kissing you deeply, like it was the last thing he’d ever do and he wanted to make it count. He carefully walked over to the mattress in the corner of the room, his hold on you not faltering, and without breaking the kiss, he slowly crouched down and lowered you onto the mattress. How he did that without falling over, you did not know, nor did you particularly care in that moment.

Unwrapping your arms from his neck, your hands trailed down to the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning the top one. Joel pulled away from the kiss, his hands working at the buttons and helping you remove his shirt, albeit a bit clumsily. When the grey fabric parted and slipped from his shoulders, it made way for the most mouthwatering sight you had ever seen. Joel looked like he was sculpted by Greek gods. Salt and pepper hairs littered the skin above his defined pecs, his stomach soft with age but simultaneously still toned, and good lord, the trail of hair that disappeared down his jeans made your imagination run wild.

“Your turn.” Joel grabbed the hem of your T-shirt, tugging it up and over your head, being met with absolute zero resistance from you. You wanted this. You had dreamed of this. You’d be damned if you backed out now.

As soon as your shirt was off, Joel skillfully reached around to unclasp your bra, letting the garment fall from your shoulders and carelessly tossing it somewhere to the side. Joel sat back and let his eyes roam all over your body, his chest heaving and his eyes darkening, black covering the beautiful brown hues you’d come to love. His tongue swept over his bottom lip, almost like he wanted to devour you.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered, before leaning back down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing down your neck, your collarbone, down your chest and going lower.

Your breath hitched in anticipation when he kissed the skin right above the waistband of your jeans. However, you didn’t stop him. You wanted him to do this. And you showed him just that by kicking off your shoes, allowing him easier access to pull your pants down.

With practiced ease, Joel swiftly unbuttoned your jeans, tugging both your jeans and underwear down your legs and tossing them to the side with your shirt and bra, leaving you completely naked and exposed to his gaze. He groaned at the sight before diving in face first, licking a long, delicious stripe from your core up to your clit.

The moan that escaped your chest was damn near pornographic. Throwing your head back against the flimsy mattress, you arched your back, pushing up against his face. Joel groaned, sending vibrations through your body, which only drew another moan from you.

After kissing the skin on your thigh a few times, nibbling at the tender flesh right next to where you craved him the most, Joel dove right back in, devouring you like a man offered a banquet after weeks of starvation. His tongue moved in and out of your core confidently, showcasing skills you never would have known he had. He groaned at the taste of you, which only added to the blinding hot pleasure that you felt.

Whining and bucking your hips up against his face, your fingers disappeared into his curly locks of hair, lightly tugging on the roots in the hopes of grounding yourself back to reality. Not even your wildest, wettest dream could have prepared you for how absolutely amazing Joel was making you feel. He definitely knew what he was doing, and he was doing it extremely well.

“Joel,” you moaned softly, gasps and breathy whines slipping past your lips. “Oh my god, Joel! Jesus… Christ!”

The noises you made were like music to Joel’s ears. They only spurred him on, and without even really thinking about it, his hand trailed up your thigh, brushing against your clit—which made you jolt—and he slipped his middle finger into your hole, replacing his tongue. Instead, he used his mouth to suck on your clit, pumping his finger in and out at a steady pace.

You were full-on whining at this point, quiet. Breathy ‘fucks’ and ‘Joels’ filled the air, accompanied by the lewd sounds of Joel pumping his fingers into you, his middle finger now joined by his pointer- and ring finger. The pleasure was toe curling, star seeing, absolutely fucking amazing. You could feel the coil in your stomach winding tighter with record speed. You were teetering right on the edge of pure ecstasy.

Joel could tell you were close. He upped his game, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion, flicking his tongue against your clit just right. He wanted you to finish all over his face. He needed it, in fact.

And he didn’t have to wait long.

With one last pump of his thick digits and one final suck on your clit, the knot in your stomach snapped. You came undone with a shout of his name, pulling at his hair and bucking your hips up against his face. Waves upon waves of pure, unadulterated bliss washed over you, and you were sure that if Joel wasn’t holding onto your thighs, you would descend into heaven.

Slowly coming down from your high, you lifted your head with great effort, peering down at Joel, and you gasped at the sight. Joel had lifted himself onto his knees, his face coated with your juices, sucking his fingers clean of your arousal. His pupils were blown with lust, and when you looked down, you finally noticed how rock hard he was.

“Joel…” you trailed off in a way that almost resembled begging, your voice shaky and breathless.

Joel knew what you meant. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he quickly made work of removing his jeans, somehow managing to kick his shoes off while he was at it. When his jeans were taken off, followed by his boxers, his cock sprung free, red at the tip and leaking with precum, and your mouth watered at the sight of it. You wanted to scramble up onto your knees and take him down your throat, show him the pleasure he showed you. However, as if reading your mind, Joel shook his head and moved to hover over you, his body warm and solid against yours.

“Next time, baby,” he promised you, not even needing to give any context as to what he was talking about, because you knew exactly what he meant.

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “I’m keeping you to that.”

A deep, throaty half-chuckle resonated from Joel’s chest. Lowering his head, he slanted his mouth across yours, all teeth and tongue. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and you moaned into his mouth as Joel gripped his cock and slid it through your folds a few times, the tip catching on your oversensitive bundle of nerves each time, making you moan even louder.

After repeating that action a couple of times, Joel lifted his head to peer down at you, his eyes—brown like the earth—searching yours for any indication that you didn’t want this. That he was crossing a line you didn’t want crossed. However, he was met with nothing but pure need, your legs wrapping around his hips and pulling him closer, silently pleading with him to make the next move.

And he did. Lining himself up with your entrance—and quickly giving himself a few light squeezes—he slowly pushed his cock in, groaning at the way your warm heat welcomed him, the way your walls hugged him just right, beckoning him closer and closer until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You felt like heaven.

Oh, but when he slowly pulled back and thrusted back in, the noises you made were anything but holy.

“Fuckin’... Christ,” Joel cursed through gritted teeth, keeping his pace slow and steady at first. A slow pull out, a gentle thrust back in. Another slow pull out, another gentle thrust back in. And repeat.

“Joel,” you whined, your eyelids fluttering when his tip nudged that one spot deep inside of you. “Joel, please.”

“Please what, darlin’?” he asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

He snapped his hips forward, making you gasp loudly. “Joel!” you nearly yelled, your hands coming up to grip at his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh.

“That what you want, baby?” he cooed almost condescendingly, lowering his head to nibble at the skin on your jaw. When you eagerly nodded, he merely chuckled. “Gotta use your words.”

“Please, Joel,” you began, sounding almost desperate as he continued with his slow, torturous pace. “Please. Need—ah!—need you to go faster.”

Lifting his head to look at you, he smirked. “Good girl.”

With that, he snapped his hips against yours, making your body jolt. And he didn’t stop. He set a brutal, unforgiving but delicious pace, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. Your boobs moved in time with his movements, and Joel couldn’t help but admire them, moving one of his hands down to grasp a handful of your right breast, thumbing your perked, sensitive nipple.

The noises you were making were downright sinful. Your grip on Joel’s broad, muscular shoulders tightened, desperately trying to keep yourself tethered to reality. You were already sensitive from your first orgasm, and you could feel your second one approaching faster than the first one did. And Joel could tell as well. It was like he knew your body better than you did.

“You gonna come f’me again, baby?” he asked breathlessly, his thrusts not faltering. He let go of your boob and instead snuck his hand between your legs, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing small, tight circles against it. He let out a noise that resembled something close to a gasp and close to a groan when he felt your walls squeeze him tightly, drawing his cock even deeper. “Yeah, you are.” Thrust. “Can feel how close you are.” Thrust. “Squeezin’ me so tight, eager for it.” Thrust. “Then let go for me, baby.” Another thrust. “Come all over my cock. Wanna feel it.”

With one last snap of his hips against yours, you came undone, your shouts of pleasure echoing off the walls. Your orgasm washed over you like a river, making your legs tremble and your vision blur from pure bliss, the kind you haven’t felt in a while. It all felt so good.

Joel followed closely behind you. With one final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his seed spilling deep inside of you. All types of profanities spewed past his lips as he came undone, his arm trembling and struggling to keep his weight up. He quickly brought his other arm back up to support his weight, not wanting to crush you, but he let his head drop down to hide in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of your deep, heavy breaths. You were slowly coming down from that euphoric high, your mind still foggy and trying to distinguish between fiction and reality. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve felt this good. Hell, you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this good. No amount of dreaming could ever compare to the real thing.

Coming back down from whatever ether his mind had disappeared to, Joel raised his head, his eyes sweeping over your face. He was still heaving like he had just ran a marathon, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you in a way you couldn’t quite decipher.

Deciding to break the silence, you spoke up. “That was… wow.”

Joel allowed a small, barely noticeable smile to tug at the corner of his mouth, and you counted that as a win. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly.

And then it was silent again. You knew there was a lot to talk about. You knew that this made things between you and Joel difficult, made it different. But for now, you chose to bask in the afterglow of what happened, chose to enjoy it.

The difficult stuff could come later. For now, you would enjoy the moment.

Everything taglist: @francisofthespook @angelsanarchy @negansbestie (Comment/DM me to be added/removed!)

[lokidjarin-7567]

The Bolter

Bob Reynolds x Reader

Two months after you and The New Avengers moved into the tower, you decide to stay home from a mission, exhaustion and stress catching up with you, figuring it would be good for you to catch up on sleep and spend time with Bob. But instead, a memory resurfaces, one that the Void dragged out of you, and you’re struggling to cope with the potential ramifications.

fem!reader, fluff, mentions of mental health, vague descriptions of trauma, general MCU/Thunderbolts* TWs, Thunderbolts* spoilers

4.1k words

I’ve been obsessed with Bob since I watched this movie, and apparently Avengers tower fics are coming back so had to give you guys my take on it. Part 2 will be coming guys don’t worry - lmk if you want to be tagged. Am also taking requests so drop me an ask <3

TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

“I’m not coming.” You stated firmly, arms crossed in the lobby of the New Avengers tower, scowl set into your face. Bucky sighed your name dramatically, mechanical fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in obvious frustration.

“Valentina said…” He started.

“I don't give a fuck what Valentine said. What happened to us owning her?”

“We do, but it’s still not good for our image if…” You cut him off again, voice cold and unyielding.

“Good thing I don't give a fuck about that either.” He sighed again, louder, looking towards the rest of the team for help, but they just shrugged.

“If she doesn't want to come, she doesn't have to come.” Yelena added, tone nonchalant. You nodded along with her, softening your voice slightly now. You didn't actually want to piss him off; you just wanted him to see your point of view.

“It’s just a publicity stunt, Buck. You don't actually need me for it. I’m tired and I want a break. Now is as good a time as any.” A third sigh. A hand running through his hair. A glance at the ceiling, then back to you.

“Fine, stay here. Bob could probably use the company anyway.”

You had been in this tower for two months now, and somehow, you and Bucky had clashed the most. Sure, Walker pissed everyone off most of the time, but he was an easy target to wind up so he had learnt to keep his mouth shut. And Alexei was loud and obnoxious, but his booming laugh and positive spirit redeemed most of his irritating qualities. You got on well with Ava and Yelena - your senses of humour and tortured pasts making an easy bond between the three of you. And Bob… well, you honestly had nothing bad to say about him. He was a calming presence, a breath of fresh air in a tower of tactically trained agents and super soldiers. You knew what he was capable of - you all saw it that day - but he never let it define him. It was a footnote in his character, undetectable until you read too closely. And he was as traumatised as the rest of you, if not more, but it was such a human trauma, more relatable and tangible, and it was something the two of you shared that made your bond just that little bit closer than with the others.

Your relationship with Bucky was a different story though. You had no history with your other teammates, so beside the run of the mill teasing and domestic debates that came with regular roommates, there was no animosity there. But Bucky on the other hand…

In all fairness, you had been created to kill him. You went through everything he did: the serum, the torture, the pain, but you didn't remember any of it. You remember the missions, you remember trying to eliminate him, you remember who you were before you were taken… but not the process you went through. The last thing you remember before was being shoved into a van, bag over your head, and the first thing after was waking up in a cell, all autonomy lost. Nothing more than a weapon. So while you had a mutual respect and admiration for each other, you had fought to the near death more times than you could count, and anger like that doesn't fade overnight. You had no malice towards him, obviously, but you could tell he harboured resentment for you, simmering quietly below the surface. What you couldn't tell was if it was because you tried to kill him so many times, or because they had the decency to wipe your memory of the pain you endured. And you knew from the screams that echoed through the wall of your adjoining bedrooms that it was a kind of pain that still brought him nightmares.

So usually, you humoured him. You went on every mission - publicity stunt or real. You sat through the interviews, the photoshoots, the promotional bullshit. You worked twice as hard as everybody else to get in his good graces, even though you didn't care about the publicity of it all. You were just happy to be doing good.

But you were burnt out. You had always had a darkness within you, one that snarled at the sidelines, waiting for your guard to drop. So, to a point, keeping busy kept it at bay. Until it didn't.

The last time you’d seen that darkness was two months ago in The Void. Reminding you it was still there, that it always would be. Bob had seen it too, when the blast of the incinerator knocked you out and his hand had knocked into yours. The memory that had emerged, tinged in the familiar greyscale, the colour that swirled around all of your bad days. The glimpse of the hospital gown, the monitors beeping, the nurses bustling around the room. The fear you had felt.

He’d asked you about that darkness soon after, how you dealt with it. You weren't sure how to tell him you didn't. Instead, you made sure he got out of the facility, that he was safe. And then, one thing led to another, and half of New York was a black void, swallowed whole. A Void that stemmed from him. A Void that you stepped into not knowing if you’d live or die. And it was there that you saw something new.

“You good?” Ava asked subtly as she finished suiting up, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah,” you breathed the word automatically, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to hide the fact it was shaking. “Tired.”

“You look it.” She replied, soft smile playing across her lips before she placed the mask over her face.

“Thanks.” You responded, laughing dryly. It was how she showed affection - gentle teasing. “Good luck.” They all headed for the elevator, and you stepped back, pulling the arms of your sweatshirt down and over your hands.

“Bye guys!” Bob shouted from the kitchen over the sound of running water, and Yelena called back in kind.

And with that, they were gone.

You knew it would only be three days until they were back, but you could feel their absence immediately.

You couldn't quite tell if that was a good or bad thing.

You strolled into the kitchen, a yawn escaping from your throat. You were still wearing what you’d slept in - tattered black sweatshirt and joggers, hanging loose around your form. Bob was standing at the kitchen sink, washing the mugs and glasses the team had used this morning at breakfast. His clothes were similar to your own: light blue sweatshirt and grey sweats that had become his uniform at the compound. His hair was starting to get long, dyed back to his usual brown basically the minute you all moved into this place. He glanced back at you, smiling warmly as he switched the water off, placing the last cup on the drying rack. There was something about him that was so comforting, a quiet strength that emanated from him even when he was just standing there. Not a confidence, not by any means, his shyness endearing as it was. It was the strength of an oath. In every movement or lack thereof, every glance that met your eyes, he was showing solidarity, subtle and unbreakable. A promise that he wasn't going anywhere as long as you weren’t. It was a stability you weren't used to.

“Hey.” Your heart fluttered slightly at the tender way he said it, involuntary smile dancing across your lips, half-hearted as it was. He knew better than to ask if you were alright, the exhaustion and emptiness in your eyes familiar to him in both your memories and his own. “Anything you want to do while they’re gone?”

“I think I want to go back to bed for a bit.” You sounded so broken it surprised you, but if he noticed, he didn't show it. A soft, barely there laugh escaping his lips.

“Sounds like a good plan. D’ya want me to wake you at any point or just let you sleep?” Your heart hurt at his consideration.

“If I’m not up by midday just knock on the door. And wake me if you need anything.”

“You got it.” He called as you walked away, back to your room, and you wished you had the energy to stay. Having breakfast with him was a luxury you weren't often afforded. If only you had the energy to make the most of it.

You closed the door behind you, darkness filling the room instantly, blinds still drawn. You found the bed, collapsing in a heap. You were surprised how quickly you started to drift, the exhaustion catching up to you so fast, and after a few breaths, your vision faded.

A slap stung across your face, harsh and sobering. You staggered back with the force of it, blinking rapidly.

“Do better.” The man in front of you muttered, shaking out his hands and reassuming a fighting stance. You could taste blood in your mouth, but you did the same anyway.

What alarmed you most was that you didn't recognise him.

There was a mask covering half his face, but even his eyes didn't hold even a glint of familiarity. Before you had time to dwell on that though, his fist was moving towards you. You ducked, landing a neat blow to his side before rolling forwards, standing up behind him and planting a firm kick to the back of his knee. It took him by surprise, the joint buckling beneath the force, but as you rounded to kick him in the neck, he caught your ankle, pulling you forwards until you were essentially straddling his shoulder, leg still firmly in his vice-like grip. You raised your arm, trying to make the best of a bad situation by elbowing him in the head, but he was faster, slamming you to the floor. You were struggling for breath and scrabbling for purchase, trying to get back at him, but he was on top of you before you could even flinch, knees on your wrists, entire bodyweight locking you in place. The pain was biting, but the panic and fear was debilitating, any part of your body you could move thrashing around helplessly. He chuckled darkly, the tone of it making your blood run cold. He leant down, inches from your face, and you waited until he was close enough before jerking your head forwards. The crack you heard was satisfying, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“You bitch…” the man spat beneath the mask, pulling the fabric below his nose and letting the blood drip onto your face. “You’re lucky I’m under orders. There are worse things I can do than kill you when I have you like this…” Your heart stopped at the weight of his words, the implications not missing you. “But for now, you failed. And you know what that means…” You didn’t, but your body screamed anyway, a bloodcurdling noise rushing from your throat before you could stop it.

“Hey, hey it’s ok…” Strong hands were shaking you awake, and you flinched instinctively, pulling away and scrabbling backwards until you had pressed yourself into the headboard, tucking your limbs into your body to be as small as possible. “It’s me, it’s Bob. You’re ok.” You looked up, body stiff and sore, to see him gingerly perched on the edge of your bed, concern etched into his features. You slowly started to notice the rest of your surroundings. Your bed, completely dishevelled, sheets still twisted around your shins and ankles. Your face felt wet, and when you brought your hand up to your cheeks, there were tears there. You finally let out a breath, shaky, laughing to yourself in disbelief.

“Sorry, I…” You ran your hands through your hair, messy and tangled. “Was I…”

“Screaming a lot, yeah.” You took another shaky breath, stretching out your legs a little. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to meet his eyes, but you felt the bed move slightly as he shuffled closer. “Are you ok? You seem really… detached at the moment, like you have something in your mind. And not going on the mission, the nightmares…” You felt the tears welling up as he spoke, the weight of everything hitting you suddenly, and before you knew it, you were sobbing. Bob closed the gap in an instant, sighing your name gently as his arms wrapped around you. You welcomed him without even thinking, hands gripping his sweatshirt in fists, face pressed to his chest.

“It’s gonna be ok. I’ve got you…”

It took a long while for your breathing to slow, and as the tears finally stopped, you released your grip. You wanted to apologise, but the sound stuck in your throat. You wanted to explain, but the idea of even speaking that dream into existence made you want to cry again. So you just wiped your tears.

“Wanna talk?” He murmured, voice calm and soothing. You noticed he hadn’t completely let go of you, hand still resting lightly on your shoulder, the warmth radiating from it grounding you back to reality.

“No. I..” you swallowed back another sob, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry about all of this, Bob. It’s just..”

“You don’t need to apologise. It’s all good. We all have bad days, at least yours didn’t nearly wipe out half of New York.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his self-deprecating joke, a harsh expulsion of air that almost ended in a snort. You finally allowed yourself to look up at him, satisfied you wouldn’t start crying again, but you were met with his bright blue eyes scanning your face, full to the brim of worry. It made your heart lurch. You hadn’t seen him like this since you told him what had happened in his blackout that day, and now he was pulling the same face because you had a breakdown. Great, the screaming must have been really bad, then. Good thing you didn’t have neighbours.

“I’m ok, I’m good now. Thank you.” You choked the words out, barely believing them yourself. His eyes met yours again, and his scepticism was immediately evident.

“Bullshit. Just lay back down…” he started to shuffle back as he spoke, moving to stand. “I’ll go and make you a cup of tea and…”

“No.” You said it so fiercely it surprised you, fear clouding your mind. You took a breath, and softened your tone. “I mean, can you stay please? Just for a bit, until I get my breath back.”

“Of course.” His response was so fast it was almost automatic, shuffling back to the head of the bed and resting gingerly against the headboard. “As long as you need.” You curled back up next to him, close enough to feel his presence, but not quite touching. A silence fell across the room, but it was a peaceful silence, one born of comfort and familiarity.

“Thank you.” You breathed the words, as though to not break the calm.

“Always.” You squeezed your eyes closed, ignoring what you had just seen in your dream and instead, visualised him. You could hear his breaths, slow and shallow, as though he was afraid of spooking you. You pretended he wasn’t still worried, instead imagining the smile you knew all too well, the one that showed teeth and reached his eyes, the purest joy you had ever seen.

You were reminded of a night a few weeks ago, when you realised how few movies the rest of the team had seen.

“You’re telling me none of you have ever seen The Princess Bride?” Yelena shook her head, and Alexei chimed in.

“Nope. Never showed Lena that when she was little.” She groaned like an embarrassed teenager.

“Ok, we need to start a movie night at least weekly and educate all of you…” You said, a smile lighting up your face when Bob laughed beside you. “And let’s start with this…”

It was only twenty minutes in when Walker started complaining.

“But why is he saying ‘as you wish’ so much?”

“Guess we know why you’re divorced…” Ava snapped back, and everyone snorted at his expense.

“Separated, but whatever…” he muttered, put out, and you and Bob giggled. You were squeezed between him and Alexei on the sofa, and instinctively, you leant towards Bob as you laughed. His arm was on the back of the sofa, and without realising, you had leant into the crook of his arm. So you stayed there. As you continued to watch the film, as everyone else made dumb jokes and stupid comments, but nothing else was relevant to you but his proximity. His presence drowned everything out. And as you curled into his body, you could feel his heartbeat. Slow and steady. Stable. Him.

Everyone else went to bed as soon as the film finished. You moved away from him slightly as the lights came on, cautious of prying eyes, but he didn’t move. Arm of the back of the couch, eyes fixed only on you.

“Any other films you want to show me?” You grinned widely.

“A lot.”

You decided on the Goonies - your favourite film as a kid - figuring Bob wouldn’t have seen it when he was younger considering his home life. And you were right.

You felt a wave of nostalgia rush over you as you started the film. You sat back down on the couch, back up against the arm where Alexei had been sat, the seat still warm. You stretched your legs out into the space between you and where he sat facing forwards, his own legs on the coffee table. You didn’t want to move away from him really, but you wanted to see his reaction to the film, to see him watch something fun and childish for the first time, to see if it brought him as much joy as it brought you. And it did. He smiled more than you’d ever seen, and you were trying to be subtle about looking at him, but occasionally, you couldn’t help but gaze at him openly when you felt he was distracted enough. The line of his jaw, his dimples when he laughed, the curl of his hair that framed his face and was starting to fall into his eyes. His eyes, a deep, piercing blue that you could lose yourself in. That were looking right at you.

Oh shit.

You blushed, turning back to the movie, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“What is it?” He muttered, tone playful, and you glanced back, smiling shyly.

“Nothing, I… um…” he was holding eye contact with you, earnest expression on his face, and it was just making you blush more. You turned back to the screen. “It’s just really nice to see you happy. You know, after everything.” You cleared your throat slightly, awkward now.

“It’s thanks to you, really.” He sounded so sincere you could’ve cried.

“Oh, no I just put on a movie I used to like in the hopes that…”

“No.” He interrupted you softly. “Not just the movies. It’s everything. It’s the late night chats when we can’t sleep, it’s doing the dishes together while the team argue at the table, it’s making sure about 50 times before you leave for a mission that I’ll be ok on my own for a few days, and that I’ll text if I need you.” You forced yourself to look at him again, tearing up, but now he was the one looking away, features wrought with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “I mean, hell, according to the rest of the team you were the one who stepped into the Void for me not knowing if you’d even survive. You went into that hellhole, and from what I saw it can’t have been easy…” Oh. Your blood ran cold at the mere mention of it, muscles stiffening, and the tears that had started to fall from something akin to appreciation were now streaming in panic. Blood rushed between your ears, vision blurring, and his voice was swallowed into the pit that was your anxiety. A dark chamber. A voice telling you to bite down. Something tasting disgusting in your mouth. And then pain. So much pain.

“Hey, what’s happening?” He muttered, and you were back in the room, legs tucked to your chest, Bob’s concerned face scanning you from the other side of the couch. “Are you ok? Did I say something?”

“No, no, sorry Bob, I…” You wiped your tears, trying desperately to get your breath back, heart still racing. Your vulnerability took hold, head spinning as you tried to dispel the new memories. “I just… I remembered something when you mentioned the Void. I thought I’d buried it but apparently not.” You tried to laugh, but it came out slightly choked.

“I’m sorry, I..”

“Hey, no you’re fine. Thank you for saying that, it means a lot.” You smiled at him warmly, trying to convey how much his words had meant to you, but you weren’t sure how convincing it was, panic still coursing through you. “Do you want a drink? I really fancy a Diet Coke right now..” He paused, scanning your features for signs of distress but you put on your best brave face, and it seemed to do the trick. He sighed.

“Yeah sure, just a lemonade please if you don’t mind. If I have caffeine now I won’t sleep…”

You took a few seconds in the kitchen to compose yourself, before returning with the drinks, setting them on the coffee table. His attention was back on the film, smiling again, and you couldn’t help but feel bad. Your panic attack had ruined his beautiful sentiment, the kindest words ever spoken to you. You sat closer to him again, where you had been before, but crossing your legs on the sofa this time so your knee touched his just slightly. You couldn’t help but smile as his leg shuffled closer to yours, almost imperceptible, but you felt it. How could you not?

“Thank you.” You spoke it quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace. “I really do mean it.”

“I know.”

You were just over halfway done with the film when you felt your eyelids starting to droop. After your head rolled forwards a few times, drifting off, Bob spoke up.

“We can finish this tomorrow if you’re tired?” He was being genuine, but you knew from his intonation that he wanted to keep watching.

“No, no, I’m fine..” A lie, your words slurring ever so slightly with tiredness. “Let me just…” You sunk down further on the couch, tucking your legs up to your side and letting your head fall to his shoulder. “That’s better.”

“You’ll still fall forwards if you doze off again.” He muttered, tone imperceptible now, almost a forced calm. You took it for annoyance though, blushing as you realised what you’d just done.

“Oh sorry, I can lay that way and then…” You started to lift your head before he interrupted.

“No, no, just let me...” He shuffled forwards slightly so he was closer to being horizontal, opening his arm so you could lay comfortably on his chest. “There, that would be more comfortable in case you do fall asleep.”

“I won’t.” You muttered petulantly, lying in the space he had created for you anyway. He laughed, a warm, intoxicating sound that bloomed from his chest, and his arm rested on top of yours. It was comforting, a surety that made you feel drowsy again. Safe to sleep around him. Secure.

“Sure you won’t.”

You woke in the darkness of your room to find yourself curled into his body tightly, arm draped across his stomach and head resting on his chest. His arm was wrapped tightly around you, protective, warm hand splayed across your ribcage. The sound of his gentle snores brought you out of the memory, grateful that his presence allowed your subconscious to lull you to sleep with pleasant memories. That you didn’t need to be on edge, that you wouldn’t need to fight for a few hours at least. That he was holding onto you, and everything was going to be ok.

[mahmahmahmysharona]

When you and Bob try to stay away from each other and fail miserably.

(Bob Reynolds x Avenger Reader) Part 4/?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself falling apart. Not enough for everyone to notice, but enough for you to feel it.

You missed him. You missed your friend. And unfortunately, now that you knew you loved him, Bob's absence hurt you.

Maybe you did something wrong. Maybe you didn't. Bob is a complicated person with a complicated past. Perhaps he just changed his mind about wanting to know you.

You found yourself staying in your room to avoid accidently coming across him (you didn't need to bother: Bob was also hiding out in his room for the same reason), and this raised questions from the others. But you shrugged them off, not wanting to spill your secrets and worries when it looked like they might not even matter anymore.

Things aren't helped by the fact that Bob was getting worse. Not that you witnessed it, but the others made sure to mention it to you. He seemed more agitated, more careful than usual. He was talking to himself again. He was jumpy, too. It scared you. You wanted him to be okay.

Finally, you could both stand to be in the same room again. But there was little eye contact, and only conversation when necessary. ("Can you pass the milk?") You hated it.

If you had more courage, you would have told him that you couldn't stand him not being around you, and how unfair it is to lose someone just when you realised you loved them.

You would happily pretend not to if it would make him come back to you.

Things came to a head one afternoon when Bucky and Walker came to blows. Walker, resorting to pointing out the flaws of other team members in order to defend himself, ended up using Bob as collateral damage, calling him "the world's worst house pet."

Bob was standing right there. Walker didn't mean it. It was a cheap shot. But Bob took it personally. You should see his his fists curl up and a sadness wash over his eyes. He slipped out of the room, unnoticed by the others in the chaos of the fight.

You were furious. Raging. If you couldn't help Bob like you used to, you could sure as hell still stick up for him. You crossed over and knocked Walker to the ground, slamming your fist into his nose.

Walker yelped, but he fought back. He always fought back — you made him promise never to go easy on you in training, so why should he now?

The fight lasted a good while, and the others even got bored and wandered off. Eventually, you both called it quits, somewhat unsure of who actually won. But you were fairly certain he got the message you were trying to send.

Afterwards, you headed back to your room, your cheek scraped and jaw bruised from the scrap. You were about to go inside when you heard a crack from across the hall. Bob.

You rushed inside his room without knocking. He was pacing the floor, rubbing his wrists together. Talking to himself. To him. Behind him, a fist-sized patch of the wall crumbled inward.

"Bob," you said, stepping forward. His fist wasn't bloody — he doesn't get injured as easily as you — but he looked shaken. When he saw you, he stepped backwards. God, it hurt you to see him look at you like that.

"Please, don't come any closer," he said. "Something's happening to me."

The tremor in his voice and the self-hatred you felt even from where you stood was enough to make you move towards him again. "You're upset, that's all," you said. "Ignore Walker, he was just heated. You were in his eyeline, and you're an easy target. He was out of line."

"Except he's not out of line," Bob said. When you reached out for him, he shifted away, suddenly alert. He told you again to stay back. It was the worst he's been in a while, and he didn’t know what would happen to you if you touched him.

"I'm here with you," you told him. It's the best you could do if he wouldn’t let you go any closer. His eyes were red with restrained tears.

He continued, "I'm the most useless person here, and even if I weren't, I'd be the most dangerous."

"I don't believe that. I don't believe it for a second."

"None of you are safe with me."

"I'm safe with you, Bob."

He looked at you. You could practically hear his heart splintering into a thousand pieces beneath his ribs. "How can you be sure?"

You once told him that if he ever got lost, you'd find him. You'd crawl through your worst memories to bring him back. He was lost now, right in front of you, and you needed him. He needed to know you trusted him, that you'd give him everything on blind faith alone, because you believed in him.

You reached out, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him into you. You kissed him. His body stiffened under your touch, but he didn't pull away. Your lips moved against his, trying to say a hundred things without speaking at all. I'm safe. You're safe. We're safer together.

You kissed him for god knows how long, until you needed to come up for air and you heard him choke out, "I—I don't know if I can—"

But he could. You knew he could. You took his arm and wrapped it around you, holding onto him for dear life as you did so. His hand hooked onto your shirt and grasped the fabric tightly. A lifeline. He was coming back to you, out of the darkness.

"Don't let go of me, okay?" you told him, your lips grazing his mouth again. He nodded, tightening his grip on you. You kissed him, and his time, he kissed you back. At the feeling of it, you became undone. Suddenly, it was you who needed to be held. You'd never felt like this, and it was almost too much. Between kisses, you heard yourself begging him, "Don't let go of me.”

He held you firmly, and when he pulled away to speak, his voice was calmer. He pressed his forehead against yours, lips skimming your own as he said, “I won't.”

And he didn’t. He didn’t even when you had to pull away from the kissing for good, dizzy and breathless. When you finally looked at him again, he was flushed, his nostrils flaring with loaded breaths. But he was calmer. He was back. And more importantly, he was holding you steady. Weren’t you supposed to be supporting him right now?

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah. …How did you know to do that?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know if that would do anything. Worth a shot.”

He caught your eye, and before you knew it, his thumb was touching your cheek, just below the fresh grazing.

"Did you have this before?" he asked.

"I beat the shit out of Walker. I'll admit, he got some good punches in."

Finally, he laughed. Then you. When you both regained yourselves, you worked up the nerve to say something — something you’ve been wanting to say since that day in the elevator.

“Bob…” you began. “I’m not sure I can be your friend anymore.”

His first reaction was one of hurt, and it’s one you’re far too used to seeing on his face. But once he understood what you were saying, he nodded.

“I don’t think I can either.” You felt his hands tighten at your back, and he whispered, “I'm going to ruin this.”

“No, you won’t. And even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t let you.”

“How can you be sure?”

When the words landed, you both caught each other’s eyes and smiled. Right before you pulled him down to you, your lips meeting again, and the world disappearing once more.

Next time: When it’s yours and Bob’s first time…twice.

Tag list: @purplefluffycows @i-shall-abide @avengersinitiative2012

[winisayswhat]

What do you need to desperately hear right now ??

Masterlist

Paid reading

Divider-@uzmacchiato

Pile 1

You’ve been stretched too thin emotionally.You'll break if you stretch anymore. Maybe you’ve felt like you had to be strong for everyone else or kept pretending to be okay when you were running on empty. Your energy feels tirednot just from doing too much, but from carrying worry, fear, or uncertainty for too long.

You’re not falling apart you’re finally starting to let go. And that’s a good thing. Your guides are gently helping you break away from patterns that drained your peace. You’re not supposed to stay stuck just because it’s familiar.

You may have gone through a period where nothing felt certain job, money, love, or even your inner world. But there’s something solid ahead. A stable offer, a new chance, or simply peace of mind. The kind of calm that lasts.

There’s no rush to get there. You’re being shown how to move slow, steady, and softly. You’re learning to trust life again. Every quiet step forward matters.

Reminder: You’re not brokenyou’re growing. You’re being rebuilt on steadier ground. How I see you at the moment : A sunrise over calm water, steady, peaceful, and sure.

Like,comment and reblog♡

Masterlist

Paid reading

Pile 2

This pile speaks to those who have loved with their whole heartseven when it wasn’t returned the same way. You may have been the one holding the emotional weight in a relationship or family dynamic. There’s a tiredness here, not just from giving, but from not being seen for how deeply you care.You're being asked to get honest with yourself: is this really loveor just habit, guilt, or fear of being alone??

Something karmic is wrapping up. A chapter where you were asked to adjust beyond reason, stay silent to keep peace, or carry more than it was fair. The scales are balancing now, and it might feel like loss at first. But what you’re letting go of was never meant to stay the same.Read that again !

For some, there may still be love here ,but only if it starts meeting you halfway. For others, this is a call to walk away and make space for what feels like home, not a battle.

Reminder: Love shouldn’t feel like survival. You’re allowed to be soft and still be safe. How I see you at the moment : A rose with thorns , delicate, but guarded. Love with boundaries.

Like,comment and reblog♡

Masterlist

Paid reading

Pile 3

You’ve been sensing something isn’t quite right. It’s not always obviousbut your body, your dreams, or your inner voice have been trying to tell you. This isn’t paranoia,it’s inner knowing.

You’re growing out of something. Maybe a version of you that used to be okay settling. Maybe a situation that once felt safe but now feels like a cage. And even if nothing “bad” is happening, something doesn’t feel alive anymore.

That’s your truth calling you out. The Moon and High Priestess energy here is strong. You’re not meant to have all the answers yet. This part of your path isn’t about logic ,it’s about trust.

You might feel like you’re walking away without closure or proof. That’s okay. You don’t need anyone else to agree with what you feel. Some goodbyes happen in silence. And that doesn’t make them less valid.There is this quote I read yesterday ''Never talking again , is the best closure I had "

You’re entering a quiet, powerful shift. One where you no longer explain your choices or shrink your intuition to make others comfortable.

Reminder: You don’t owe anyone your peace!!!! You’re allowed to walk away just because it hurts to stay. How I see you at the moment : A mirror cracking , illusions falling away. Truth setting you free.

Like,comment and reblog♡

Masterlist

Paid reading

Pile 4

This pile feels full of movement. You’ve been waiting for a moment where things finally make sense and it’s coming. This energy says, “You’ve done the work. You’re ready.”

Expect quick shifts and changes ,emails, invitations, opportunities, or new attention. Don’t overthink it. Don’t shrink. You’re not “lucky”you’re prepared and have earned it !

You’ve outgrown the version of you that second guessed every step. You’ve been through the self-doubt, the trial runs, the quiet nights wondering if it would ever be your turn. It is. This is it !!

The King of Wands energy here says, step up, speak clearly, and own your vision like a baddie !. You’re not here to follow,you're here to lead,its a long over due for you !. You don’t have to be flashy about it .Your calm confidence speaks louder than any performance.

Some of you may be stepping into more public spaces ,social media, leadership roles, or creative platforms. Others are simply getting seen for who they’ve always been.

Let people adjust to your light. You’re not here to fit inyou’re here to stand out!

Reminder: You don’t have to shrink so others feel comfortable. You weren’t made for small spaces. How I see you at the moment : A lion in sunlight warm, radiant, confident without trying too hard.

Like,comment and reblog♡

Masterlist

Paid reading

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jade Leech - Shore Celebrant Vignette

"The light I had been continuously chasing"

[Ultramarine City – Part in Plaza]

Grim: Ooh, there's a ton of souvenirs being sold over there, too.

Rook: You're right. We should go take a look.

Jade: There is a fascinating store that isn't in an easily spotted location, as well. I can point it out as we near it.

Malleus: A fascinating store? I wonder if they carry more unusual items. How exciting.

Riddle: When Jade says "fascinating," I feel a little― no, very uneasy… However, I'm also interested.

1. I'm excited!

Jade: Oh my, I had no idea you were looking forward to it that much. I am elated, of course, but now I am feeling the pressure. Jade: I do hope it will strike your fancy as well, [Yuu]-san.

2. I'm nervous…

Jade: No need to be so frightened. This is just a lovely little town with such bright and cheerful people, no? Jade: I'm sure there aren't any items there with any kind of shady origins. Most likely…

Riddle: Have you gone to that shop with Azul or Floyd?

Jade: Not at all. Those two were not interested whatsoever, and passed by the store without stopping.

Jade: And that was merely because, according to the flyer plastered on the storefront, they source their wares directly from merfolk…

Jade: Some of their available merchandise include items such as fortune-telling seaweed, or instruments and accessory cases made out of shells.

Jade: I've heard they even raise seahorses with anemones on their heads.

Jade: None of that is all that unusual for us merfolk. So that is why they had no interest in going inside.

Jade: However, I'm sure it is filled to the brim with objects land-dwellers like yourselves would have never seen before. I do hope you will enjoy it.

Rook: Oui! Just hearing about it is quickening my pulse.

Grim: Hey, do they got anything to eat, though? I wanna eat all the delish stuff they got from under the sea!

Jade: It did seem like they sold what would be considered standard fare for merfolk, so I'm sure they'll have something of the like. For example…

???: Woah, hey… Is that you, Jade-kun!?

Jade: Oh my, if it isn't you…! I'm afraid it has been some time.

Jade: Yes, I'm Jade Leech. Thank you for everything you did for me back then.

1. Do you guys know each other?

Jade: Indeed. I had previously attended a training camp for merfolk who would come to the surface world… Jade: He was one of the people working there. He had his work cut out for him while looking after us.

2. Who is this guy…?

Jade: Are you aware of the training camp specifically created for merfolk who would come to the surface world? Jade: He was one of the people working there. He took very good care of us there.

Jade: I must say, I was not expecting to run into you here at Ultramarine City… Are you on vacation?

Training School Staff: Actually, I'm working. Well, I say that, but we've got no merfolk attending our little school right now.

Training School Staff: I'm just scouting out some new places in Ultramarine City to help in our walking course.

Jade: I see. If you were to showcase many beautiful locations, there may be more interest within the merfolk community to come to land.

Training School Staff: That's right. I'm gonna come up with a plan so amazing that it'll even get you from back then excited.

Rook: "From back then"…?

Training School Staff: Ah, whoops. I gotta get back to work.

Training School Staff: I'm glad you're enjoying yourself on land, Jade-kun. Tell the other two I say hi!

Jade: Of course, I'll let them know. Goodbye.

Jade: Sorry to keep you all waiting. The shop I'd like to show you is over this way. Let's head there now.

Grim: Yeah! Let's go already!!

[Ultramarine City – Sunshine Bay Restaurant]

[everyone chats away]

Jade: Oh also, we ran into one of the staff members from the land acculturation camp during our excursion at the Part in Plaza today.

Georgina: My, my, all the way in Ultramarine City? What an unexpected coincidence.

Jade: Indeed. He said he was glad I was enjoying myself on land.

Georgina: I see… It seems the staff there did so much to take care of you while you were there.

Georgina: Even when my husband and I would need to come to land for work, neither Jade-san nor Floyd-san would want to come with us at all…

Georgina: So there were times when we thought you would return to the sea without any interest of staying on land.

Jade: I had no idea you thought that way… This is the first I've heard of this.

Rook: The staff member we met earlier did allude to a little something from your past…

Rook: It seems to me like you didn't have much interest to the surface world when you were younger, Jade-kun.

Georgina: That's true. At the very least, it looked as if he could enjoy himself plenty under the sea without coming to the surface.

Jade: Yes, that is true. I was quite content there.

Georgina: Back then, even his teachers would report that he was doing well, with no issues.

Georgina: He would constantly be praised on his classroom etiquette, grades, and the way he presented himself…

Georgina: Which is why I was surprised one when his homeroom teacher relayed to me that "Jade-kun hasn't come to school" one day.

Jade: Ah, that was in middle school, yes.

Riddle: You mean to say you were absent from school without authorization?

Jade: That wasn't the case. I had no intention of missing classes whatsoever.

Jade: However, this situation was due to an unavoidable circumstance. That's because…

Jade: I had gone missing for three days straight.

Rook/Riddle: WHAT!?

[Ultramarine City – Sunshine Bay Restaurant]

Jade: However, this situation was due to an unavoidable circumstance. That's because…

Jade: I had gone missing for three days straight.

Rook/Riddle: WHAT!?

Riddle: Well, I assume since you're here with us now that you were able to make it home safely…

Rook: I can't just let you say that you went missing and not ask anything. …Were you caught up in some sort of incident?

Jade: …It happened a few years ago.

Jade: I went missing the day after a terrible storm. I do recall that I was quite excited that morning.

Riddle: Why's that?

Jade: Oftentimes after a rain or thunderstorm, it becomes much easier to find strange and unusual items milling about.

Jade: So while I was off wandering, I had finally found something interesting. There was an object floating in the cold, dark water.

Jade: It was giving off a faint light, shining red, blue, green in a continuous rhythmic pattern…

Jade: My younger self was completely taken in by it with one look… And so I chased after the light as it drifted further and further away from me.

Rook: To see little Jade-kun chasing after a small light within the dark depths of the ocean…

Rook: Ohh, how brave he must have been. Just imagining it brings a smile to my lips and a tug on my heartstrings.

Jade: Indeed. It's hard to say just how long my sweet, innocent baby self swam for…

Jade: My tailfin was starting to feel heavier and sluggish, and just as I was about to give up on the impossible task I had set myself…

Jade: The light I had been continuously chasing had finally appeared right before me!

Riddle: Finally, the story is getting somewhere. What happened next?

Jade: I reached out my arm as far as it would go, and just I grasped that light…

Jade: The world suddenly started spinning around me.

Jade: I had gotten caught in a whirlpool.

Jade: It was a location known to be dangerous waters that we were told not to go anywhere near…

Jade: But because I was so focused on capturing that strange light, I had ended up in such a dangerous place before I had realized it.

Jade: Goodness, how terrifying it is to possess such youthful impetuousness…

Riddle: That's not the point here, now, is it?

Riddle: For you to be caught in a whirlpool up in those northern seas… I've read in textbooks that those were the primary causes of shipwrecks in that area.

Riddle: And yet despite that you were able to find your way home unharmed… It seems you somehow have the devil's luck.

Jade: Oh no, I was not completely unharmed, not at all!

Jade: I ended up in a stretch of ocean in which I could not get even a single tiny fish to come near, and for three days and three nights, I wandered with an empty stomach…

Jade: By the time I finally made my way back to more familiar waters… I was completely despaired, thinking it was all over.

Rook: Le misérable! That must have been such a frightful experience.

Jade: Yes, I still cannot forget it to this day. When I think of the look on my mother's face as she waited for me out front of our home…

Rook: Your mother's face?

Rook: Do you mean... She looked completely worn out because you had disappeared?

Georgina: Yes, indeed. I had been so, so worried… Right, Jade-san?

Jade: …Back then, my mother simply smiled, saying, "You've finally come home…"

Jade: Before squeezing my whole body EXTREMELY TIGHTLY…

Jade: Her embrace was so tight that it would make even Floyd's squeezing taunts seem adorable.

Rook/Riddle: Well, that's…

Rook: It must have been a very warm embrace.

Jade: Absolutely. Every single bone in my body cracked.

Georgina: Mhmhm. I simply could not contain my joy when I saw my beloved son home safe for the first time in days.

Riddle: On top of breaking curfew without prior notification, he also hadn't come home for three days.

Riddle: If we consider those circumstances, it's only natural that he would have received such a severe punishment.

Georgina: Oh, it seems like things are a little more rigid in your household, Riddle-san.

Jade: Our family is fairly hands-off.

Jade: Not only have we never had a curfew, but neither have we been scolded for not coming home for a number of days.

Riddle: Eh? Then why did she… squeeze you, Jade?

Riddle: If there is no issue with you not coming home for a few days, then I can't imagine why you would have received that sort of punishment.

[Riddle comes to a realization as Georgina smiles]

Riddle: …Ah, my apologies. It wasn't a punishment, it was an embrace.

Georgina: Well, of course, it was because his school had contacted me.

Rook: I see. So that was all due to his disappearance not staying a family matter.

Georgina: That's right. I don't mind one bit if it inconveniences me. However, it is a completely different matter if it were to cause any other person trouble.

Georgina: I don't care how they spend their own time, but the onus is on them to take care of everything themselves.

Jade: In the end, after all that, just as was said, I was "squeezed" tightly…

Jade: Add onto the fact that I had been swimming for quite a long time, and my whole body was aching all over for the next few days. I ended up resting at home from school for the next week.

Jade: When I look back on it now, it truly was quite the blunder. I was severely laughed at by Floyd, as well.

Georgina: Which then led to the two of them into another big fight, so I had to hug the both of them then.

Georgina: The both of them were quite sulky for a little while after that, but by the time Jade-san was ready to go back to school, they'd completely made up…

Georgina: The next thing I knew, those two had gone off together somewhere. Children truly are a wonder.

Riddle: How utterly unrestrained… This sort of thing would never have come about in my home. Maybe that's why I'm so incompatible with you two.

Rook: I suppose this all comes from the fact that you value your children's independence.

Rook: It seems the upbringing of the Leech family is quite similar to my own family's.

Jade: Well now, that's fascinating to know. I would love to know more about your family as well, Rook-san.

Rook: Hehe, perhaps, if the opportunity unveils itself. By the way, Jade-kun…

Rook: In the end, what was that strange light that you had found?

Jade: Well…

[Ultramarine City – Sunshine Bay Restaurant]

Rook: In the end, what was that strange light that you had found?

Jade: Well…

Jade: It was a toy ring. It was the type that was battery-run and would light up…

Jade: Perhaps it was due to having been in the water for too long, but by the time I had come to, it had broken and stopped working.

Rook: Oh là là… What a shame.

Riddle: You wandered off during school hours, trespassed in a restricted location, and worst of all, you were absent from school without permission…

Riddle: THAT IS NOT NEARLY AS BIG OF A PENALTY AS YOU SHOULD HAVE RECEIVED FOR BREAKING SO MANY RULES!!

Jade: Is that so? What a harsh thing to say, Riddle-san.

Riddle: This falls nowhere near any levels of "harsh"! Besides, you fell into that dangerous situation merely because you weren't paying careful attention, right?

Riddle: So why is it that you couldn’t learn from what happened and try to fix your behavior?

Riddle: Even just the other day in alchemy class, you had to be stopped by the professor from mixing together a forbidden concoction.

Riddle: I truly cannot understand why you would do something you were told not to, despite having been given the proper warnings.

Jade: Perhaps it's because... it's simply human nature to want to do something especially after being told not to.

Riddle: DON'T SPLIT HAIRS! Good grief, this is why you're always…

Georgina: …...

Rook: Oh, is something the matter?

[They watch Riddle berate Jade]

Georgina: Hmhm, I'm just somewhat happy to see Jade-san with a friend who would be upfront and chide him like this.

Georgina: Thank you as well, Rook-san.

Georgina: It's not often that those around him understand him for who he is. I'm simply elated to have you look after him so kindly.

Rook: There's no need to thank me. I am just enjoying seeing how his mind works.

Georgina: Mhhm, to think he has such wonderful classmates and upperclassmen taking care of him… Jade-san is quite the lucky one.

Jade: Oh, my. Mother, you aren't trying to drag Rook-san into anything troublesome, are you?

Georgina: I was simply telling him how wonderful it was that you were able to become a student at Night Raven College.

Georgina: It seems that spending every single day like this with your fellow school mates has been quite a stimulating experience for you.

Jade: Yes, indeed.

Jade: A waylaid visitor from another world. A direbeast that was specially allowed to enroll as a student, despite his origins.

Jade: An upperclassman who is a world-renowned great mage.

Jade: A mysterious upperclassman with keen senses of observation and is quite receptable.

Jade: And finally, a hot-headed classmate who is not only at the top of our class, but also the Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Jade: There are so many more individualistic personalities there as well that I never have the time to be bored.

Jade: There may come a day that I return to the ocean, yes…

Jade: But at the very least, I am certain that I still have a very enriching school life ahead of me, as well.

Jade: This experience will also be included among my school life memories… So, I must see tomorrow's Eternity Float be a success with everyone's help.

Jade: We will absolutely flip that boat as hard as we can, and recreate the tale.

Georgina: Well now, I am truly looking forward to tomorrow now.

Jade: Entrust it to me. I'm certain that this wedding will be one to remember.

Requested by @clove-noko.

[scirelistener]

LONG TIME NO SEE

sanji x gn! reader

synopsis : a familiar face emerges in an unfamiliar town. someone calls his name and sanji feels the world go blank with only one to focus on.

things to note! : kind of ooc! sanji (??), reader is older than sanji but not by a lot, reader was a helper/baker at the kingdom but i think and hope it’s ambiguous to be whatever role you wish to choose! also there’s a disgusting amount of ‘-sama’ used so i apologize in advance

“Great job, Sanji-sama!”

The little prince winced at the ominous ooze radiating from the chiffon cake you held so carefully, but when he looked up, all he could see was the radiance beaming from your grin.

“R-Really?” Sanji wriggled his fingers, hope rapidly blooming inside of him as you nodded.

The boy watched with anticipation when you reached for a nearby fork and took a bite. Once he saw you hum in delight, Sanji let the smile overtake his face.

“I used a different method to make the cream this time, just like you told me!”

“Well, you did fantastic! Oh, but who am I kidding.” You let out a theatric sigh, placing down the fork and clasping your hands together against your chest. “Our Sanji-sama is good at anything he puts his mind into!”

The fits of giggles your words sent the prince into made a smile break through your dramatic facade, the kitchen now filled with an air of joy and happiness.

“It’s only because you helped me!”

“My prince is so kind..” You fake sobbed, pressing your hands closer to your chest while looking away to ensure blindness doesn’t come for you with how brightly Sanji’s expression was.

The prince giggled once more before leaning closer with a look full of anticipation, his eye sparkling with the child-like curiosity that couldn’t be found from the other children of Vinsmoke.

“Can you teach me more?”

Easing down the facade, you broke into a wide smile. “Of course. I’ll teach you everything I know.”

“…” With how strongly Sanji was glaring into the cake, it was a surprise that the dessert hadn’t been struck with two holes.

There was something wrong with the way the newly finished chiffon cake held itself. A certain factor was frustrating the cook yet he could not, for the life of him, figure what exactly was it.

Perhaps the cake was underbaked and therefore too soft? No, it was unlikely considering the toothpick he poked into the cake came out with slight crumbs and not batter. It also wasn’t likely that the chiffon cake was over cooked either as it still had the signature soft yet bounce to it.

Perhaps it was because he rushed to the kitchen to make a cake as soon as he woke up from that dream.

With a heavy sigh, Sanji instinctively shoved his hand into his breast pocket to find his relief cancer stick when Luffy slammed the door open.

“Sanjiii~ Do you have any- Woah! Cake!” The captain, as he barged in, immediately had stars shining in his eyes and hurried towards the counter where the cake sat in prime condition. Luffy then, with expecting eyes, whipped his head to Sanji. “Can I eat it??”

As Sanji was about to say no out of habit, he took a second glance at the cake before thinking otherwise. “You know what, sure. Go right ahead.”

Without a thought, Luffy dug in and Sanji left the galley for a smoke break. His fingers itched to figure out what felt wrong about the cake, but there was no need to overthink over something that was probably already in Luffy’s mouth.

With his elbow leaning against the railings and a cigarette in his hands, Sanji stared out at the waves and let out a heavy sigh. If only you were here to help him.

———

The town they stumbled upon was strange. Not only were there pirates roaming around and talking to the locals without any malice from both parties, there were also a lot of bakeries and patisseries. A lot might’ve even been an underestimation.

“Hooooly cow!” Luffy guffawed as the Strawhats walked down the street, everyone but the captain sporting wary expressions.

Wherever they looked, it was a strange sight. All the other pirates seemed wary of each other, but never at the locals. In fact, as the Strawhats made their way into the main town, Zoro noticed a gang of pirates swarming around an old lady.

As the swordsmen squinted his eye and was about to tighten his grip on the hilt of his swords, he realized the pirates were helping the lady. Zoro blinked when one of them crouched down to carefully pick up all the groceries the lady must’ve dropped and handed in over with a smile all too kind for a pirate.

Zoro immediately let loose of the hilt before scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “… What is this town on?”

Meanwhile, Sanji was rather amazed and impressed as they passed by the many stores selling backed goods. None of the shops seemed to be selling cheaply made desserts and breads; no, even by a passing glance could one tell the amount of dedication and quality in the baked goods.

An impressed whistle came out of the cook’s mouth as the crew passed by a shop that displayed a rather wide variety of assortments. From breads that seemed to differ in thickness and texture to pastries that glistened with a shine that tempted passerby to come take a bite.

“They look quite good, don’t they?”

Sanji almost jumped out of his skin, but quickly regained himself as Robin approached with her usual all knowing smile.

“They surely do, but! No worries, Robin-chwaan! Whatever desserts we come across, I’ll make sure to make it ten times better once we get back to our ship~!” Sanji swooned as he always did, heart replacing his eyes. To his words, Robin’s only reply was a polite chuckle.

Sanji was just about to speak up when someone called him from behind with a voice all too familiar. A voice he knew all too well.

A voice that he heard only in the cold kitchen of his old home, the only thing that managed to bring warmth into such an environment.

“Sanji-sama..? Is that you?”

The crew all halted their steps, looking back to their cook whose face had no other expression other than shock.

Sanji slowly turned his head around, a silent prayer in his head that begged for this not to be a cruel joke.

As he turned to face the owner of the voice, Sanji’s heart stopped beating. The world came to an abrupt stop. Time stopped ticking and the only thing he could focus on was..

You.

You stared at him with a startled expression that was probably plastered all over his own face.

You looked different from how he remembered you in his faded memories at the shitty kingdom. No longer were you the teen that was taller but never loomed over him. No longer were you the teen that helped raise little Sanji up when he couldn’t reach the baking soda in the cabinet.

Your eyes held a different kind of maturity from the one back when you both were young, but still held that same shine that Sanji liked seeing whenever you baked. Your cheeks were slightly shined by a thin layer of sweat that made you glisten in the attention of the sun, but there was no hiding the smudge of flour near your nose. (His heart ached, you always had flour somewhere on your face whenever he stumbled into the kitchen.)

Sanji wanted to comment on the irony of how you were still wearing the worn out apron from before even after all this time yet the words died down in his throat before it could even reach the tip of his tongue. How could he when you looked so.. beautiful.

He whispered your name into the air, his words almost dissipating in the crowd that felt like it was getting busier with every passing second, but it caught your ear. He could tell. Sanji could tell by the way your eyes were glistening with newly forming tears and how your arms tightened around the bag of groceries.

“Is it really you..?” It was Sanji’s turn to ask as he dared to take a step closer. He could feel the crew’s confused stares glaring into his back, but he cared not one bit. You were in front of him. “A-Are you really.. here?”

You wetly chuckled, placing down the grocery bag with the same carefulness he remember you used with everything he made back then. You then opened your arms and tilted your head with a smile, a silent invitation.

Without hesitation, Sanji sprinted.

He ran until he could feel you and wasted no time in diving into your embrace. Sanji wrapped his arms around you like you were going to slip away any time soon. The lingering smell of sweetness, flour and freshly baked bread hit his nostrils, and Sanji fought the urge to sob on the spot.

When he felt your arms gently wrap around him in return, Sanji decided to give up fighting and let a stray tear escape from his eye.

“It’s you.. It’s really you.” Sanji heard you mumble and pulled away to feel his heartstrings get pulled at the sight of you with tear eyes, a warm smile tilting up the corners of your lips. “You’ve grown, Sanji-sama.”

“Don’t.” Before he could think, the words stumbled out of his mouth. You blinked away the tears in replacement for confusion, but the confusion went away as Sanji spoke, “I’m not- I’m not a prince anymore.”

Sanji watched the way your smile reappeared, this time with more fondness. Your eyes shined knowingly and he safely presumed you knew what he was implying.

“Well, at least that means I get to do this without any problem.” You spoke up with a tone that cleared the air of any sad nostalgia, one beaming with an eerie mischief.

“What do you- Hey!” Before he knew it, Sanji’s hair was getting tousled and ruffled as if he was a dog. Despite his protests, you kept on going with both hands. Your laughter boomed through any complaints coming from Sanji and the cook felt more and more pliant as the sweet melodious sound of your laugh rang in his ears.

Your eyes creased like crescent moons as you playfully messed up the cook’s hair. “I must say, you’ve grown into a fine young man! I still remember how little you were, Sanji-sa-” The ruffling and your words halted, making Sanji look up. You coughed into your hand before correcting, “Sanji.”

The way you said his name like it was a delicacy made his heart twist and turn. Without the honorifics, somehow his own name sounded even better than usual. Almost like a song meant only for him.

“I missed you.” Sanji let the words slip out, not even bothering to care about the crew’s reaction. He really did miss you. A part of him almost forgot you in the process of forgetting about that wretched place yet in his mind, it was always you and his mother that managed to shine through the bad events that happened at the kingdom.

Sanji grabbed your hand and gently pressed it against his cheek, closing his eyes when he felt your warmth radiating through the contact and letting out a shaky sigh. “I missed you.” He repeated.

With his eyes closed, the cook could not see how your eyes visibly softened. Instead, what he felt was your forehead pressed against his as well as your other hand cupping the other side of his face. Your thumb caressed the skin under his eye, treating him like he was a delicate piece of art.

“I missed you too, Sanji.”

Out of the captain’s request, you somehow made your way to the ship that loomed over you with an impressive height. Sanji’s friend was his friend, Luffy declared and immediately invited you over to which you agreed to despite Sanji’s reluctance in letting you deal with the hurricane that is the crew.

Yet you seemed to be dealing with them just fine. Conversing with the crew like you’d known them for years, laughing at Brook’s terrible jokes.

It felt like you were home.

Sanji tightened his grip on the mug, suddenly all too conscious of how your shoulders pressed against his. He was too busy overthinking about how the scent of baked goods weirdly matched well with the ship that he hadn’t realized Luffy had started running his mouth. Only when the captain mentioned the word ‘cook’ did he snap his head back into the conversation just in time.

“A cook? That’s amazing, Sanji!” You beamed at the blonde who flustered over the attention and looked away with a hasty grin along side a blush that overtook his features.

Luffy let out a hearty laugh, one that dared to echo out of the ship and to the town’s ears. “Sanji always makes the best food! Everything he makes taste incredible!”

“Oi, Luffy!” Sanji was no stranger to compliments and he wasn’t one to deny any either yet it felt weirdly embarrassing when you were with him.

Despite Sanji’s protests, you only seemed more impressed and let out a laugh that matched Luffy’s exuberance. “Well, I’m not that surprised!”

You looked over to Sanji and smiled so proudly it made his heart ache. “Sanji’s great at anything he puts his heart into.”

While the crew laughed and tried to coax you into telling more tales of you and little Sanji, the cook couldn’t stop the concerningly fast rate of his heartbeat. You’d said that to him before, but the way your words was soft yet stern with conviction and pride made something in his brain go haywire.

As you were about to reach for your glass, your hand was pulled and held by fingers that were larger and wider than yours.

When you glanced at Sanji, he was having an argument with the swordsman who had a cocky smirk on his face. Meanwhile Sanji, on the other hand, looked as red as a strawberry. Even as he snarled at Zoro, the tips of his ears burned bright red.

You let out a quiet chuckle before gently squeezing back, finding warmth in the way Sanji’s hand held yours.

It’s nice to see you again.

a/n : little sanji is so cute, i want to hug him and let him cook anything he wants. he’s so cute that i want to drop kick vinsmoke judge over a flight of stairs and proceed to pluck out every single strand of that fucker’s hair. hate judge. how dare he treat my child like that. (i have not reached the whole cake island arc yet.)

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: Here , Part 2: Here , Part 3: You’re here!

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don't have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest.

TW: Past abuse in the form of emotional neglect/abuse, pregnancy, panic attacks and angst

After passing out from the emotions of the shopping trip you woke up to your warm bed. It seems someone (other than Damian, he was too small to carry an adult.) had placed you on your bed, removed your shoes and removed anything that would snag or choke you in your slumber as well, it seems they also left your shopping bags at the foot of your bed. You were starting to wonder if that shopping tripped really ending up helping you because now it’s 12:32 at night and you’re texting your husband you were supposedly not talking to and you felt unbelievably drained from all that crying you did. Usually you’d cry in his arms while he comforts you so perhaps that’s why your reaching out to him.

You:

I’m fine. And I’m safe just need some space

Him:

I want to give that to you but I’m just nervous not knowing where you are.

You can feel a headache coming on, perhaps from the crying, the fact you were still in your day clothes and from the fact he was so insistent on your location, fair enough, you disappeared with almost nothing on you and also, in his eyes, randomly one day with no signs that you would be away from him for so long. You choose to turn off your phone and just lay there. Honestly it’s all too much. These hectic phew days seeing your family again has been overwhelming. You can’t lie and say you aren’t enjoying the attention but at the same time you feel this gnawing feeling in your chest. The lingering in the back of your mind being ‘Is this all real? Was the years of neglect real or did I imagine it all? Has everyone always cared I didn’t notice?’ and arguably the most significant reason to you ‘what was the reason for it all?’

You can feel your mind start spiralling and you begin to feel sick. You hate it all. Hate being aware of everything all at once. Hate the almost never ending unanswered questions.

You quickly get up shaking your head gently refusing to let it completely overwhelm you, grabbing some PJs you change into as you do. They smell like your him, you both use the same detergent so it always reminds you of each other. You then slide on your slippers as you walk to the kitchen to get a late night snack. You’ve been have some pregnancy cravings but nothing super weird surprisingly, like pickles and peanut butter.

In the kitchen you search for some of your favourite snacks to eat lately, unfortunately there’s none left so you settle for some fruit you like, not as tasty like the ones you have at home but decent enough. The moonlight comes through the kitchen window making you think once again as you bite into the succulent fruit while you lean against the marble kitchen counters. The night is quiet, perfect for unwelcomed overthinking.

‘I wonder what would’ve happened if I stayed here?’

‘What would’ve happened if I never had gotten pregnant?’

The worst thought of all though was; ‘is this sudden affection from everyone in this manor only because of the baby?’

You love your baby you do but you’d hate for all this affection to be just for the child. You are your family’s child first and all you want is for them to love you as you and not for the child you carry.

You feel a slight buzz in your pyjama pocket. You’ll have to deal with your true family before your second, and right now part of your true family is worried about you.

Him:

Please talk to me, my love.

You pause sighing, perhaps if you were raised in a healthy family you could’ve grown up to handle conflict better. Maybe you would still be there with him in your shared home. No point in lamenting about it though.

You:

I’m here sorry I needed to take a break, I was getting overwhelmed.

Him:

Thats okay I’m sorry… I’m just scared

Your husband has always been kind and patient with you even when you found even yourself difficult. Of course he makes mistakes, but he never hurts you and he would never emotionally abandon you like this cursed family did and yet here you were abandoning him, thinking about that makes you wince slightly.

You:

That’s fair… I’m sorry.

Ever since our last argument I’ve been struggling a bit. I know it seems minor but the fact we disagreed on something so small but important around our child is scary. Because what happens next?

All your thoughts spill out as you type, like an overflowing fountain, speaking of fountains you can feel your eyes fill up with tears as you type.

Will we continue to argue about every small thing, like on how to parent our child? Will you get tired if we just continuously disagree and fight? What happens when the baby comes, if I’m like this now will I really be a good parent? Can I even love when I was raised without it?

Your sweet husband knows everything about your childhood and you know everything about his. He never once judged or blamed you for the trauma you endured, he was always on your side.

Him:

I know you’re scared, my love. but one disagreement doesn’t mean our marriage will fall apart, raising a life can be scary but that’s why we are doing it as a team and not as individuals.

I’ll never get tired of you, I intend to stay true to our marriage vows and love you in sickness and in health. I’ll never be tired of you and I won’t be tired of the baby because I love you both. Also you will be a good parent, I know it. Just because you may have been raised without love and care doesn’t mean you can’t love and care anymore, you’re married to me and you love me just fine.

Don’t doubt yourself so much. Thinking so big about everything all at once is bound to get you overwhelmed.

You can almost hear his naggy voice lecturing you towards the end making you giggle softly.

You:

Youer right I’m sorry. I love you so much ♡

God I feel like a fool right now.

Him:

My fool ♡

Now go to sleep I can tell you’re about to pass out because you spelt you’re wrong

Also I bet the reason you stayed away from me for so long is you were too embarrassed

Shit! He caught you. You should’ve known better but he can practically see through you sometimes so you don’t know why you’re surprised. You laugh softly and hang your head slightly at the fact you can still feel the connection when you’re both apart. It’s a testament that you both are truly blessed with one another.

You:

Will do, love you again. Also your bet was right, I’ll text you my location tomorrow so you can pick me up.

Him:

Looking forward to it ♡

You yawn after he sends his last text for tonight, he was right all anxiety has left you with a giant puddle of sleepiness. You eat the last slice of your fruit, wash your hands in the kitchen sink, then finally you walk back to bed.

You’ve never walked around so late it’s almost eerie how quiet it all is, when you were younger you were afraid monsters would get you as sometimes you heard weird noises when you did try to venture outside your room.

Perhaps you should’ve looked around at night more because then you wouldn’t be lost, wandering around a large manor in a sleepy haze, desperate to get back to bed. “Office…?” You mumble looking into rooms for the staircase so you could get to your room to no avail.

Somehow you end up in Bruce’s study, that he once expressed you weren’t supposed to go into at any point, normally you’d listen, it was just an office after all but the sleep made you bold as you step in.

The room in your sleepy vision was normal.

Minus the bookcase behind the desk which was moved to the side to reveal a staircase going down. The shock of the weird bookcase and stairs going down sobered you up from your sleepy haze.

“Wait.. we had a basement?”

You crept down the dark stairwell, the only way you knew where you were going is because of the small lights that lined the walls as you descended. The stairs and the walls weren’t old and rickety for a secret passage, they were what looked to be sold black iron all around minus the matching black carpet going down the middle of the stairs.

“This isn’t weird at all…” you mumble sarcastically to yourself.

You can’t decide what would be worse a creepy old staircase that looks like it lead to a dungeon or a staircase that looks like it would lead you to something like a room for experiments. Either way it felt like you were about to witness something you shouldn’t have seen.

If only you knew how right you were.

Finally you reached the end of the stairs, if you were even still a tiny bit sleepy that terribly long walk down got rid of it. You walk a wide corridor, what looks to be different entrances to rooms line the walls. You want to open one and check but your body pushes you to continually walk forward.

Once you reach the end you see two see-through automatic doors, when you step past one you panic as you’re sprayed down with what you can only assume are chemicals. One you step through the other, you’re greeted with a very large cave.

A cave full of shit you’d never find in a cave, like cars and, sitting in the middle of the very big cave, what looks to be a giant computer.

Alarm bells ring in your head, this definitely wasn’t for you to see. But those alarm bells and everything else in your head quickly dies when you see Bruce, Dick and Alfred walking towards you talking amongst themselves.

You wouldn’t feel this sudden horrifying pit in your stomach if that was it.

No. If that was it you’d be fine. But instead Dick and Bruce were in costumes.

Not just any costumes but Batman and Nightwing costumes.

‘No.’

‘There’s just no way.’

‘This is a joke.’

But you knew it wasn’t when Alfred looked ahead and met your eyes, his face paling at the realization of you standing there and that’s all you needed to turn and run.

You run back to the see-through doors, down the black hallway and up the black stairs. You are pretty sure you can hear yelling but you can’t hear it over the sound of your own breathing as you hyperventilate.

Everything you knew about your family has come crashing down. What was real? Who else knew? No, they all must’ve known. It makes sense that everyone in this family knew but you. Which other superhero was secretly your family member?

Your vision blurs from tears. They were superheros. Saving EVERYONE. EVERYDAY. But they could forget your birthdays, they could forget your existence. Watching your brothers and sisters celebrate their birthdays all together as a happy family and Bruce, your DAD, YOUR BIOLOGICAL DAD couldn’t find time to get you a different gift each year.

Everywhere feels unsafe, all you could do was run to the living room before you could feel the air in your throat get stuck from how quick you were breathing. The tears blurring your vision.

You quickly pull out your phone and quickly open your messages, your hand shaking as you click on your husband’s contact before sending him your location along with a single line saying ‘help’. You need to leave here fast no where feels safe. Everything feels fake.

As this is all happening you hear people call your name, through your tears you could make out Bruce and Dick.

“Hey hey hey let’s just calm down… it’s not a big deal! And what you saw wasn’t what it looked like.” Dick starts his own voice sounding unsure.

“N-not a- A BIG DEAL?” You manage to choke out and scream.

“Don’t be this way.” Bruce coldly glares at your reaction.

“DON’T BE THIS WAY?” You yell again, you’re pretty sure the entire manor is awake now from your cries. “You… you don’t get to tell me that.” You hiss through tears.

“Tell me, Bruce Thomas Wayne. Who else knows.” You ask slowly and carefully, voice full of spit.

There’s a silence before Bruce speaks up, “the… entire family knows.”

You go to laugh but before you can he adds on, “Because they’re all vigilantes too, we never told you because we wanted you to live a normal life...”

His voice fades away as the world around you shatters, a seemingly innocent illusion of a neglectful family has cracked and revealed a family who purposefully isolated you from themselves because they decided to choose for you that you’ll live a life full of wondering what you did so wrong to deserve this.

Your own father decided to tell the kids that aren’t even related to him to become heroes with him but here you were his biological child and yet he decided you weren’t worth it all.

You gently crumpled onto the floor.

Right before your husband decides to make a flashy entrance by shattering the living room window.

[wol-fica]

-Small In The Snow-

summary - ortega christmas party seems like a great family bonding time…until one nasty comment sets you spiraling

warnings - use of the f slur, mean old woman (DISCLAIMER: no hate towards Jenna’s family, purely for plot.)

an - so i know this isn’t the strip fic…i forgot this wasn’t posted and i haven’t done a jenna fic in awhile soooooo, here’s to help you get by :)

—————————

“Your family wants to what?” You asked, speaking into the phone while you cooked your dinner.

It was a late Friday night, and you had just got home from work about twenty minutes ago. You were planning on having a small snack and then crash on your sofa, but you girlfriend had called you and now you were here stirring up some pasta for dinner all because she scolded you about your eating habits.

“They wanna have you over for the christmas party tomorrow,” Jenna’s smooth voice flowed through the speaker, making your brain go a little fuzzy, “Abuela wants to see you again.”

You winced, your brain bringing up the moment when you first met Abuela at the Ortega Family Reunion. She had judged you left and right, from your posture to the small nick on the left side of your mouth. You were a little apprehensive to ever see her again, so for her to request you to be at the party made your stomach churn unpleasantly.

“I dunno.” You mumbled, pouring the pasta into the strainer, “She wasn’t that nice to me when she saw me last time.”

“That’s just how she is, I’m sure she likes you a lot.” Jenna replied, her voice sweet and coaxing, “Besides, I want you there.”

Your face went a little red, the heat of your skin causing you to smile. Jenna always knew how to weasel you into doing things for her, either with subtle flirting or just the easy way of asking for what she wants and then immediately kissing you so you would say yes.

“I know you do, but Abuela scares me.”

“Baby.” She sighed, and you swore you could see the frown etched upon her face, “Abuela isn’t that bad, just show up, be you, and everything will be fine.”

You paused, stirring the cheese into the pasta slowly while contemplating your options. You could A: go to the party, be embarrassed by Abuela in front of everyone, and go home feeling worthless. Or you could B: refuse and skip out on the party, and make your very beautiful and very emotional girlfriend pissed at you.

You also were trying to keep a small secret from Jenna, but skipping out on a christmas party probably wasn’t the best way to do it.

So you chose the first option.

———Time Skip———

“Ugh.” You gagged, pulling on the collar of your shirt, “This is so tight.”

“Stop doing that.” Natalie said from the stove, waving a spoon at you, “You’ll stretch out that nice shirt.”

You were sitting in the Ortega kitchen, the thick smell of tamales heavy in the air. Jenna’s mom was at the stove, finishing up the last couple dishes before they had to go out on the dining room table. Your girlfriend had picked out semi-formal clothes for you, saying that impressions are what make the atmosphere easier on the mind, and complimented your outfit

“I’m nervous, what if Abuela chews me out again?” You asked rhetorically, ignoring her statement, “I’m gonna be a laughing stock.”

“Y/N.” Natalie said, setting the wooden utensil down and turning to you, “You need to stop stressing, it’s not good for you.”

You huffed in annoyance, letting your head fall to the cool surface of the kitchen island counter. Your eyes fell shut, a groan leaving your parted lips. Footsteps drew closer from behind you, and the soft touch of a familiar hand on your back made you suck in a sharp breath.

Jenna’s hand ran up and down your back, her fingers dancing along your spine while she gently massaged the tension out of your shoulder with her other hand. You sighed, slightly leaning towards her as an invite to keep going, and she responded with a squeeze to your hip when her hand ran down that way.

“Is the food almost done?” Jenna asked her mom, staying near to you, “I think people are starting to arrive.”

“Yeah, I just have to put lids on the tamale trays.” Natalie said before walking out of the kitchen.

“Okay, perfect.” She said, smiling before turning back to you, “What’s wrong baby?”

“Nothing, I’m okay.” You mumbled, turning your head to look up at your girlfriend, “I’m just nervous.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at you, “You’re still on about that? C'mon Y/N you need to let it go.”

You cringed, tearing your eyes away from hers to stare at the marble counter. You despised when Jenna was mad or upset with you, and each time she showed her dismay, you would feel unpleasant and bitter. You knew she didn’t actually know what your nerves were about, but it still sucked when she was upset with you.

Fortunately for you though, she loved you way too much for her to actually stay angry with you, hence why her gaze immediately softened and she leaned down to be eye level with you.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it like that.” She cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You said, pushing yourself up until you were standing up straight, “You don’t need to apologize, I’m just overthinking.”

“You don’t need to, it will be fine.” She soothed, pulling your arm around her waist so she could snuggle into your side, “And if something actually does happen with Abuela, then I’ll deal with it and we can go home.”

You hummed, turning to rest your cheek atop her head while her hands ran up your back. Her nails gently scratched against your skin, making your eyes flutter shut with a sudden warm feeling of relief.

“She will behave, I’ll make sure of it.” Jenna murmured, leaning up to press her lips to your jaw, “I got you, baby.”

You smiled, peppering some kisses to her face that made her giggle a little. “I need to use the bathroom though, gets the nerves out of me”

Jenna smirked, “Nervous shit?”

You flicked your middle finger at her as you walked away, watching her shake her head before you turned the corner to the restroom. Once you entered the room and finished your business, you made to exit before hearing a very familiar yet very loud voice.

“¡Jenna! ¡Mi chica!”

You tensed up, slowly drying your hands as to prolong seeing your girlfriend's grandmother. You heard Jenna’s family all conversing in the dining room, a small smile coming to your face when her laugh echoed through the hallway, but that was instantly wiped from your features when you walked into the room.

Abuela caught sight of you immediately, waving away Aliyah and making a beeline for you. You inhaled, preparing for the first wave of insults to come.

“Y/N!” She greeted shrilly, reaching for a hug, “You have gotten so tall…and so skinny, you need to eat more.”

“Hi Abuela, it’s lovely to see you too.” You grimaced, forcing a kind smile on your face, “How have you been?”

“Eh i’m alive, can’t get rid of my old bones yet.” She shot a glare towards Natalie, who sighed and took a larger sip of her drink.

You awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of your neck and glancing around, “Wouldn’t want you gone anyway.��

“These people keep hoping I die, but I still gotta a lot of energy left in me” She raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“Abuela!” Edward scolded, motioning to the kids playing in the living room.

“Oh they don’t care, and besides I’m too old to try to be courteous”

He sighed, shaking his head and walking away into the living room where the rest of the family was.

Abuela chortled, poking her cane at your stomach before hobbling away, probably looking for a cushy chair to snore off into. You sighed, rubbing your eyes as you went to go get a drink in the kitchen. Mia was there, pouring some vodka into her orange juice to make a mimosa, and she smiled warmly when she caught sight of you.

“Hey Y/N, how are you?” She asked, putting the cap on the vodka bottle, “Want me to make you something?”

“Please.” You groaned, peering at the bottles on the table, “Could you make a Manhattan?”

“Of course I can, who do you think I am?”

You chuckled, checking out the platters of food scattered across the counter. You settled on the cheese plate, using a toothpick to try the various flavors.

“Soooo, how has life been? Anything crazy or fun going on?” Mia asked curiously, opening a jar of cherries, “Jenna told me you’ve been busy lately.”

“Yeah, my job has a tight grip on my neck. I barely get any free time anymore.” You replied, snacking on the smoked gouda in front of you, “And…other things.”

“Oh?” Mia raised an eyebrow at you and handed you your drink, “Tell me, I’m nosy.”

You smirked, giggling a little while you opened your phone to pull up a picture. It was a beautiful diamond ring, with the band being gold vines enveloping the modest jewel. It was a hard decision to make, being that you wanted it to be perfect for the perfect woman you have, but after a long time of thinking, the ring you chose seemed to be the right one.

Mia gasped, looking at you and then at the photo and then back at you. She squealed and threw her arms around you, trapping you in a large hug.

“You’re gonna propose!” She cried, jumping up and down while you frantically tried to keep your drink from spilling, “When will you? Do our parents know? How long have you had the ring?”

“Not sure yet, yes they do, and it’s been about a month now.” You smiled, setting your drink on the counter, “I’ve been trying to find the right time, but with me being so busy and Jenna filming constantly it’s been a tad bit difficult.”

“I get that, but you should let me help you out! I know the perfect place to do it!”

You nodded, pondering that idea, “Maybe, it depends on her schedule and mine.”

“Who’s schedule?” A voice said from behind you.

You jumped out of your skin, quickly locking your phone and shoving it into your pocket. Jenna walked into your view, leaning up to kiss your cheek before going to get a drink, “What are you two up to?”

You gulped, knowing you are a terrible liar, and looked to Mia for help.

“Just discussing Y/N’s busyness with work.” She replied smoothly, sending you a wink, “She needs to relax more.”

“You’re telling me.” Jenna quipped, giving you a look, “I’m filming all the time and I have more free time than her.”

“I wish I could take time off, they are just so strict with my hours.” You said sheepishly, twiddling with your fingers.

“Mhmm.” She hummed, a playful smile on her face.

You watched as her and Mia dove into a conversation, their voices fading out while you plainly stared at your girlfriend. Your eyes traced her features, indulging in her presence. No matter what day, what time, or how you were feeling, Jenna was always and will always be so incredibly gorgeous to you. The way her freckles splashed onto her face, the way her smile was always so warm and welcoming, and the way she so effortlessly made you melt with just a wink in your direction.

The ring flashed in your mind.

“So Y/N.” Mia turned to you, “What do you think?”

“Huh.” You said, zoning back in to find them both looking at you, Jenna giggling behind her martini.

“Who is the best in bed?” Mia asked, raising her eyebrows at you, “Out of everyone at this party.”

“I…uh..” You stammered, unsure of what to say, “How did we get here?”

“You’re supposed to say me.” Jenna deadpanned, taking a sip out of her glass, “Because I am.”

You shrugged, immediately ducking out through the doorway into the hallway when she chucked an olive at you. You snickered into your hand, not paying attention to where you were walking until you almost side stepped a short figure. A cane came out of nowhere, swinging right into your shins, making you yowl in pain.

“Fuck, ow!” You hissed, tripping on your feet and ending up on the ground.

“That’s what you get, vermin.” A very familiar voice said from above, “Thinking you can come here and act that way.”

You peered up, flinching when Abuela stood over you, holding her cane in her hand like a threat.

“Excuse me?” You questioned while standing up, not sure if you heard her correctly, “Did you call me vermin?”

She seemed to stare daggers into your soul, her sharp eyes boring into yours in a threatening manner.

“You’re a disgrace to this family, Jenna should have never given you a chance.” She growled at you, “Worthless faggot.”

The world seemed to slow down as you stood there, mouth agape. Abuela has always been snappy towards you, but she’s never insulted you that much, let alone use a derogatory slur towards you. Jenna had informed you of her homophobic perspectives, but she had said that Natalie was working on it with her and had made better progress.

Clearly not.

“I’ll never understand why anyone here accepts you.” Abuela snarled, hobbling in the direction of the living room, “Useless piece of intersex trash.”

You inhaled, feeling your anxiety rising quite fast. Tears welled up in your eyes, clouding your vision as you clutched your shirt.

Worthless?

Useless?

Trash?

Is that what they all thought of you?

You gingerly hurried towards the back door, slipping out into the cold air to get away from the sweat building on your neck. After rounding the house and crossing the backyard, you slid down into a swing on the swingset, letting yourself melt into the snow covered seat. Your chest felt tight, almost suffocating you as you tried desperately to breathe in the crisp wind.

You sat outside for a while, catching your breath in the winter air. It was freezing, especially since you did not have a coat on, but your mind was racing too fast to care about potentially getting a cold. Chatter and laughter sounded from inside, Christmas music softly singing out of the radio. In any other circumstance, it would feel nice and homey, but the noise just made you feel smaller. Distantly, you heard the screen door swing open, but you were too deep into your anxiety attack to care, only when a hand touched your shoulder did you jump back to reality.

Jenna was looking at you with worry in her brown eyes, her arms hugged around her waist tightly as she attempted to protect herself from the cold. Her cheeks were flushed red, and her hair seemed to shine as it softly blew in the wind, catching little snowflakes here and there. You stared at her, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you attempted to ground yourself. She frowned when your bottom lip began to wobble, and moved forward to wrap her arms around you. You melted into her hold, feeling a huge chuck of anxiety fall off of you.

“Are you okay?” She asked after a moment, her voice soft and soothing, “I saw you through the bathroom window.”

You nodded, slipping your hands into her coat pockets. She bit her lip, running her thumb across your cheek before gently tilting your face up to hers. Your eyes were bloodshot, a drastic contrast to your pale skin, and Jenna felt a pang of hurt in her chest when she saw the tears streaming down your face.

“Baby, what's wrong?” She questioned, wiping the drops off of your face, “Talk to me love, I’m here.”

“It's fine.” You mumbled, choosing to stare at the ground, “I’ll be fine…just needed some air.”

She pursed her lips at you, not falling for your lie. Her hand took your chin, gently tilting your face back up to her.

“We both know that’s not true.” She spoke softly, stroking your cheek lightly, “You can tell me, you know.”

“I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Your bottom lip wobbled, either from your tears threatening to spill or the cold, and you felt your anxiety rise and settle in the back of your throat. Jenna was looking at you with such a loving gaze, so soft and sweet, and with the weight of Abuela’s words hanging above you, you broke down.

You buried yourself into her arms again, unsuccessfully trying to suppress your aggressive sobs against her chest as you told her about what happened. She shushed you like a mother to her baby, cooing soft praises of love to you while you cried. Her attention was on you, listening to each word with a pang in her chest from the broken tone of your voice.

“I got you baby, I’m here.” She whispered, pressing her lips to your scalp, “You’re okay.”

You sniffled pitifully, clutching onto her for dear life like she was potentially going to leave you forever. Jenna’s heart broke at the sound of your whimpers, her eyebrows furrowing in unhappiness due to your state of person.

“Hey, look at me.” She said, taking your chin in her hand to see your face, “Eyes up, love.”

You turned your eyes up to her, scrunching your nose slightly from the harsh glare of the porch light. Jenna smiled warmly at you, before leaning in and pressing her lips to yours. You basically went limp, letting her take control as your hands fell to her waist. She stepped closer to you, as if she could get any more, her fingers interlocking behind your neck.

“You…are incredible.” She murmured against you, brushing her nose on yours, “You’re not trash; you are so precious to this family.”

She gave you one last deep kiss, filling it with all the love and passion she could muster at that moment before pulling away to meet your unsure gaze.

“So precious to me.” She said, stroking your cheek, “You’ll always be worth so much to me.”

Your heart did a leap in your chest, and a smile of adoration finally graced your features from her words. With your hands still on her waist, you stood and pulled her into your body, nuzzling into her sweet-smelling hair as she hugged you in return.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, pressing a small kiss to her scalp, “I love you.”

Jenna hummed, her hands running up and down your back softly as you both swayed in the wind, “I love you too, my darling.”

———————

strip fic is so close to being finished; writing out the spicy scene is stressing me tf out i’ve redone it so many times oml

[sebastiansluts]

Surprise?

idk what this means for the blog, but it's the first thing i've written in months and i wanted to share it with you all. i miss you all so much, and if anyone's still here, i appreciate you more than you know. for now, requests will stay closed and we'll see what else i come up with writing-wise!

~Rose

Bucky Barnes x Reader; oral sex m receiving, vaginal sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, authority kink,

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON’T LIKE, DON’T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

"What are you doing here?" Bucky growled, pushing you back against the wall. You pressed into his hold, but it didn't give an inch, metal and flesh both tight with tension, hands locked firmly on your upper arms. You shoved at him again. "If you don't stop that you're going to bruise," Bucky said, and you glared at him.

"Then let go of me," you shot at him, and Bucky's fingers tightened minutely before letting go entirely. He shoved up and away from you, backing up and taking a deep breath, his jaw tight.

"Doll, I don't have time for this right now," Bucky said, strain evident in his voice, and your heart clenched.

"Well fuck you, I was having a great time at the party, I don't need this either," you quipped, hands against the wall to press away from it, sliding behind your back instead at one hard look from Bucky.

"You're not s'pposed to be here, and you know it baby. I told ya t'let me handle this one, I don't want you on Valentina's radar."

"Bucky, you're crazy if you think everyone's not on her radar."

"Still, don't need to be giving her reasons to go lookin' at ya," Bucky grumbled, and you sighed. This time you did push off the wall, but only to reach forwards and wrap your hands around Bucky's arm, sliding up to his shoulder, pushing gently until he turned around, looking down at you.

"You're so damn protective, you know that?" You smiled softly, leaning up on your toes to kiss the underside of his jaw, feeling it hard beneath your lips.

"Someone's got to be," Bucky muttered, and let you trail a series of kisses up his jaw and down his neck, until you were meeting the collar of his shirt.

"Mm, oughta be careful with these kisses, wouldn't want anyone to suspect anything, would we, Congressman?" you teased, licking at his Adam's apple, teeth scraping against the scruff of a beard he'd sported tonight.

Bucky groaned, one hand finding your hip, the other burying deep in your hair at the back of your head, both guiding you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, feeling the long line of Bucky's dick against your stomach.

You moaned loudly, quickly cut off by Bucky's lips, shushing you in between kisses. "Baby, shh, it's a blindspot, they can still hear us if you're too loud." You reached down, palming his dick quickly but gently, a loud noise tearing out of Bucky in surprise.

"You were saying, Congressman?" You grinned, as Bucky glanced around, pressing you deeper into the corner. You could see the tops of a few people's heads under the railing next to you, but only just. If they looked this way a little too long or hard, they might see something...and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through you at the thought. Bucky pressed into you further, slipping his thigh between yours, giving you something to rest against as he took your head in his hands and pulled you into his kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, meeting him kiss for kiss, your body rolling on thigh, against his torso, pushing your chests together.

"Please, fuck me, Daddy," you whispered into Bucky's ear, feeling him shudder and nod, one hand already leaving its place supporting your neck to travel between you. He tore at his belt, quickly getting it undone and his pants unzipped, his cock falling heavy out of his briefs.

You salivated at the sight, and you whined lightly, desperate to get your mouth on him. Bucky seemed to be in the same mind, because he ground out, "On your knees, babydoll, get it good and wet."

Your eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of his dick to your tongue, heavy and salty, and you breathed in excitedly, taking more of him into your mouth. You suckled gently at first, then harder, making yourself nearly choke on his cock, until Bucky pulled you back by your hair.

"Easy doll, don't make this end before your favorite part," Bucky chided, looking down at you fondly. You were of half a mind to disagree, you loved almost nothing more than his cum down your throat, but Bucky grinned, sensing your mood. "Does that mean you're ready?"

You popped off his dick cleanly, a thick ring of your dark red lipstick staining the base of his cock and part of his balls. You smirked to yourself, before you were lifted up and off your knees, spun around, and shoved against the wall. You were bent forwards with your ass out, your face pressed against the cool marble, your hands held at the small of your back in Bucky's metal one. His other hand flipped up the skirt of your dress, smacking your ass when he found it bare of panties.

"Naughty girl," Bucky said approvingly, hand massaging your ass. "Gods you must be drippin' baby," he grunted, hand sliding between your legs to press into you, coming back covered in your slick. You could feel him slicking up his cock with your juices and you bit your lip hard to hold back a moan.

Bucky began teasing you with the head of his dick. He circled it around and around your clit, leaving you with shaking legs and a heaving chest when he pulled away.

"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Congressman," you hissed, and Bucky grabbed your arms, pulling you up and spinning you around, slamming you back into the wall again. He bent down and picked you up, your legs spread over his arms, one of your hands flying to your mouth to stifle your gasp, the other going to his shoulder to steady yourself.

"Never gonna leave you anywhere, babydoll," Bucky murmured before sliding his cock into your open and waiting pussy, burying himself to the hilt immediately.

Your back arched, your breasts pushing into Bucky's face, smothering him as you adjusted to being full. You slumped back down to the wall but Bucky followed you, keeping his mouth on your tits, sucking a mark between them.

You grasped his hair, holding on firmly while Bucky began to pump his hips, dragging his dick back and forth against your walls, clenching desperately to keep him inside you every time he pulled out.

Bucky's lips met your own in a messy kiss, spit and tongues mixing together until you were sure your lipstick was everywhere, but you didn't care, you just wanted more, more Bucky, more everything.

Bucky adjusted his hold on you, pulling your ass away from the wall so just your upper back was against it, your hands scrambling to hold onto Bucky's neck, but he had you, fully, in his arms. He fucked you hard then, bouncing you on his dick, until you were nearly crying with the need to come.

"Daddy please," you gasped, curled forwards and wrapped around Bucky's shoulders, begging into his ear. "I needa come, gotta come, please!"

Bucky just adjusted his hold once again, wrapping your legs around his waist and cradling you against him as he pushed you up against a pillar.

"Now, baby, come now," Bucky ordered, hips moving powerfully again, deep and fast, right where you wanted him. You couldn't hold back your orgasm if you tried, it was intense and hit you right away. Your cunt clenched, tightening around Bucky's cock, forcing him to fuck you harder to stay inside you, and you bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out.

Bucky sighed heavily, his own orgasm triggered by your bite, and he flooded your cunt with his cum, fucking it back into you until you were shaking from overstimulation.

Gently, very gently, Bucky helped you uncurl your legs, placing them back on the ground. He rubbed circles on your thighs, getting blood flowing again as you fixed the skirt of your dress, making sure it hung properly. Bucky helped adjust the top, before you cleaned up his suit jacket and buttoned his pants, letting him do the belt.

Bucky gathered you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, letting you regulate your breathing and just be for a moment. With a kiss on the top of your head, Bucky gently pulled away, swiping at a line of your lipstick on your chin.

"Come on doll, time to mingle."

[lovelettersfrommai]

Rooms I Don’t Enter

Summary: You and Bucky live through each other’s worst memories. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem! Reader (HYDRA Experiment) 

A/N: Marvel brain rot is taking over post Thunderbolts*. I need to see it again IMMEDIATELY. Reader has fire and ice powers, reminiscent of a certain anime character…No I will not elaborate as to my involvement in the implied fandom. Not proofread, we die like men.  Also this is my first time writing for Bucky! Exciting stuff guys.

Word Count: 1,616

Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to anything Marvel related, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot.

Warnings !: Mentions of being abducted, vague body horror, reader gets forced to hurt someone, mentions of human experimentation. Bucky has healed from his past, but reader has not, hurt/comfort, angst?

MASSIVE THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS.

As soon as Bucky entered the void, he felt ice. Oh no. He thought to himself. No, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t be back here again. 

The hard substance pressed against his back as he landed in the ravine, right after his fall from the train all those years ago. All the wind had knocked out from his lungs, and he sat up abruptly, just in time to watch HYDRA soldiers drag his body across the floor, arm gone. He felt nauseous at the sight of it, his own body desecrated. The worst part is that he knew this was just the beginning. 

He needs to get the hell out of here.

~

The grass beneath your combat boots was a jarring sensation. Your head whips around, bewildered. A park? Weren’t you just in New York? Where did everyone else go? You look around. There’s a playground, and many trees. Picnic tables and benches where parents usually sit and watch their children, but right now it’s empty. Just you. It’s then that you hear a familiar sound. The music of an ice cream truck driving your way. It’s nice, almost peaceful, even.

If this weren’t a moment that you had literal nightmares about. 

It hits you then how you remember this place. This is the neighborhood park that you went to as a child. The one that you were abducted from. You watch as your younger self squeals happily, alone in the park. You had been saving up for the next time the ice cream man came around. 

“All alone today, young lady?” The man asks. Oh god, no. The younger version of yourself nods. You grab her wrist in an attempt to stop her from getting any closer, but she screams and the trees that were once just trees reach out and grab you, the branches twisting around your arms and physically pulling you away. You can do nothing but watch as you get taken. 

~

Bucky makes an effort to get out of the room, clawing at the walls. He realized that the room isn’t as big as it seems. He calls out, looking for somebody, anybody, and starts to punch at the ice with his metal arm. 

That isn’t me anymore. He thinks to himself. This is. 

At the same time, you use your powers to burn the branches keeping you away from your younger self. Ice shoots from your hands as you use it to propel yourself forward faster, ending at the truck’s hood. Looking in the tinted glass, you swear, if you look closely enough you can see-

“Bucky!” You call out, voice shaky, and limbs tired from the effort of sustaining your powers. Bucky turns his head. He heard you. You take a deep breath then smash the glass of the windshield with your bare hands, jumping through it and straight into Bucky. 

~

The moment you tackle him, you’re transported into a new place. Bucky recognizes the place immediately. He sees Zola’s face and internally cringes, wanting to punch the man. He huffs. It wouldn’t do anything here. He’s not gonna let this undo all the work he’s put in to bettering his mental health. You both just need to get out. 

It’s then that Bucky hears the words. His spine straightens as a shiver rolls down it. He knows they can’t hurt him now. They’re powerless in his deprogrammed mind, and yet he can’t help the way fear grips his chest. You grab his hand, and he is immediately brought back to earth. You’ve always been such a grounding force for him, and he can’t help but want to kiss you senseless for the kindness you’ve always shown him. 

The both of you have a long history together. You didn’t always see each other when you both were still under HYDRA, but even in his altered state Bucky knew you. Maybe that’s why once he pulled Steve from the river, he went to get you next. Together, the both of you look for a way to get out of the lab. When your foot hits a loose tile on the lab floor, you know this is likely it. You wordlessly gesture at it to Bucky, who instantly gets the memo, smashing it with his metal arm. 

Once you crawl through the hole in the floor, the two of you fall to the ground, entering a completely different space. Your hands come up behind Bucky’s head, making sure it doesn’t get badly hurt as you tumble into a cool concrete floor. Bucky’s arms wrap around your torso, making sure he takes the brunt of the impact. Once you finally settle into the new space, you press your forehead to his briefly kissing his cheek as you let out a breath of relief.

~

“Where are we now?” You mutter. The place feels familiar but it’s a tad too dark to make anything out. 

“You know where we are. The question is who are we going to see?” He murmurs lowly. It hits you then. The cold concrete floors, the darkness, the distinctive smell of dampness and a buildup of mold and mildew. You’re back in the basement cells. The place HYDRA kept you in between missions and sessions of “experiments” in the lab. It’s after the realization hits you, that you, younger you,  is ushered into the room harshly. You’re older now. Still far too young, but now in your early 20’s. It hits you then what exactly this memory is. You push Bucky’s head away, not wanting him to see what happened, but he stubbornly watches. 

What he doesn’t expect is to see himself, moreso, the winter soldier. He’s suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. Did he hurt you? He thought most of his memories were recovered, so why couldn’t he remember this? More importantly, why didn’t you tell him? 

“Doll…What is this? What did I do?” He asks, hands darting out to grab your shoulders. He doesn’t mean to squeeze as hard as he does, but you see the sense of urgency and more importantly, the signs of panic that cross his features. You shake your head emphatically, hands coming up to rest on his elbows in reassurance. 

“It’s not what you did…It’s what I did.” One of the guards start to speak to the both of you in Russian. He goes on about testing your abilities on a real subject, and you watch as you scramble on the floor. 

“Th-the doctors said I was done with testing today…” she tries to say. One of the guards grab her face harshly. 

“I know. This is just for fun…consider it target practice.” He replies. Bucky can only watch with sadness as you try to refuse, knowing it couldn’t have ended well. Meanwhile, your eyes fill with tears, the memory still causing guilt to eat at your consciousness. He walks over to the memory version of you, kneeling beside her as she too moves onto her knees, fire and ice powers activating. He pushes a stray hair behind your ear before pressing his forehead against your head. 

“It’s okay. You had no choice. I’m sorry…” He mutters into her ear. It won’t change anything. Won’t make you feel any better about doing it in the future, but that doesn’t matter right now. 

You watch him for a moment before trying to find a way out. The door that the guards pushed you through. You push and pull at the knob, and when that doesn’t work, you start kicking desperately. Anything to escape the agonizing past screams of your current lover. It eventually gives. You turn around to get Bucky. With one last comforting kiss to past you’s head, he stands up straight and jogs over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the door to the next room. 

~

Once the two of you get to the next room, you attempt to seek respite for just a moment. Your hands come up over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Bucky has never seen you like this. If anything, you are usually the stronger one in the relationship, always pulling him from the dark place. Now, as he looks at you, he recognizes just how vulnerable you seem, your actions reminding him of a child who is just trying to shut out the rest of the world. He takes a deep breath before approaching you.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize. Bucky shakes his head and gently cups your cheek with his flesh hand. 

“Don’t apologize for doing what you had to do to survive.” It’s a phrase that you’ve said to him time and time again. When the nightmares turn him into an insomniac and the skeletons hidden in his closet come out in full force. 

“...I didn’t know how to tell you.” His metal fingers wrap around one of your wrists, pulling your hand away from your ears and back to your sides, repeating it with your other arm. 

“I understand. There’s probably nobody else in this world who would understand but me.” Through all the time that you’ve been together, Bucky knows you. The same way that you know him. He’s never had this sort of closeness in his life, and it was only because you stubbornly refused to give up on him. Just like Sam. Just like Steve. Whatever he has accomplished after leaving HYDRA was the combined effort of both of you. If you weren’t gonna give up on him, why would he ever give up on you?

You let him hold you for a while, before finally accepting his words. You prepare yourself for whatever it is that might come next. 

“Let’s go help our friends.” 

[thbbie]

༄ husband!osamu x f!reader

you bite bite. hard. teeth sinking into your husbands warm flesh. he yelps out, in surprise by the suddenness of your action — he should be used to it by now.

your little nibbles, on his fingertips, his forearms, his ears, his chest. he is used to it. it's rare for him to be seen without the little indents on his skin, red marks of the parts of him you stake your claim on the last time you had your hands (and teeth) on him.

it comes to you naturally, you need something to gnaw on and your dear husband is right there, in all his perfect chew toy glory with his thick arms, thick chest, thick thighs, hard muscles softened up by the layer of plush that surrounds them.

there is just so much of him.

and very inch of golden skin is just so tempting. you cant help but sink you teeth into him. osamu never complain, in fact if anything, he is actively encouraging you.

in bed, under your sheets when he hovers over you, you've got the best view of his body glistening in sweat, his brown eyes dark and glossy with want, hunger. osamus lips are parted, letting every sound he makes out for you to hear. once upon a time he would've been shy about this, embarrassed at himself even — not anymore, not now.

now he gives you everything, all of him. raw and unashamed, osamu put himself on a platter for you to devour.

his hips slam into yours in a smooth consistent repeated motion, legs dangling helplessly over his shoulders with each thrust deeper into you.

breathing harshly with his sliver chain dangling over you. a simple dainty thing you'd gifted him, a pendant of your initial glimmering in the low light of the room. that's not what osamu has his attention set on now though; instead, he hones in on your lips. the way you've got them tugged between teeth, biting into them till their plump and red and nearly bloody.

osamu shifts his weight to his other arm, pulling your lip free with his thumb muttering out a breathy "you'll hurt yourself" brushing over it with his thumb once, twice before letting go and sliding his index and middle fingers into your itching mouth, he sees it, you need to bury your teeth into something.

"bite here instead. mhm theree you go darlin' now don't be shy. osamu can handle it"

you look up at him, meeting his dark glossy gaze with your own for confirmation. he want you to bite him? "come on now, you could do it. you were being so harsh with your poor lip just now. "

he punctuates each of his words with a slow deep thrust into you, dick hitting that sensitive spot inside you with each buck if his hips. you whine around his digits and finally bite down.

osamu doesn't hold back the groan that escapes him, his dick twitching against your gummy walls. "heh, there's my girll~ keep at it yea? m' -hahh all yers ta gnaw on. my girls very own chew toy. yeaa~ just like that. mhmhn"

your eyes teary as he picks up the pace, slamming himself into you faster, rougher. rubbing your clit in tight little circles . when you release his fingers at a particularly deep thrust, tip snug against your g-spot you cry out "os- sa- ahh~ muu" his name comes out in syllables, a moan between each one, your voice stretched and shaky.

he just shushs you, "bite down for me. feels good yea, sinking yer teeth into me? atta girl~"

osamu is now rarely ever seen without bite marks littered all over him. his neck, his arms, his butt (yea. yea. you freak. but he doesn't mind (he enjoys it more than words could ever convey))

he doesn't put too much effort into hiding them away form view, simply remaining unbothered by them as he goes about his day, running the restaurant.

if someone does comment he is so incredibly relaxed about it, "oh those?" as if he doesn't even remember the little stinging marks are there despite the growing pride that makes his broad chest swell wider because between those cute indents of yours and the silver band on his left hand, everyone knows that he is yours.

and in his eyes, that's exactly how it's meant to be.

[maybejj]

omg can you write a pining jj before they got together in gossip girl? the lead up is always my favorite <3

before you were a couple, jj couldn't do anything but wait. and it destroyed him.

jj maybank x gossipgirl!reader

warnings: adam (he needs a warning iykyk)

jj watched as you paced back and forth, hands tugging at your hair. you were distressed. upset. pissed. and thankfully he wasn’t the target of your frustration but rather your pathetic excuse of a kook boyfriend, adam reeds.

adam didn’t deserve you. everyone knew it too. he didn’t know how to treat you. he didn’t know how to make you happy. he didn’t know you.

but jj did. he knew your heart and your soul so fiercely it felt like the two of you were one being. if only he could show-

“don’t do it.” pope grabbed his shoulder. jj only just now noticing that he had taken a step towards you. like instinct was taking over to save you. to take you away from what was upsetting you.

“he’s a piece of shit, man. we can’t just stand here and do nothing while he ruins her night again.” jj huffed out, clenching his jaw. he was pissed that adam had showed up unexpectedly at the boneyard. like he always does.

it was suppose to be a small party and the pogues were hosting. adam wasn’t coming so jj had you all to himself. the night was going to be great. until he showed up mouthing off about how she never makes time for him anymore and jj nearly clocked him in the face because all she ever did was accommodate him these days. she did everything for him and he didn’t even see it. didn’t appreciate it.

not like he would.

“last time we got involved, she was embarrassed and didn’t talk to us for days. let her handle this. if she needs help, she’ll let us know.” pope eyed him warily for a moment to make sure he wouldn’t charge adam and was satisfied when jj just continued to glare at the pogue-turned kook, fists clenched.

the argument was getting louder, attracting more people’s attention. jj could see the tears falling from your face as adam raised his voice. making it about him. it was always about him. he never cared what happened to you or how you felt.

but that little voice in the back of jj’s head kept whispering, i care how you feel. i care about you. i love you.

tagging my old gossip girl peeps <3: @hopelesssheaven @annasturn0lo @sheisntyou @onelonelybitch @marleymarleymarleymarley @awurtzx06 @scaroooos @pr3tty-pink @freyawhitexxx1 @aesthetic-lyss @voidangxls @kathryn-maraudersversion @hotvampdragon @jaydaaasworld @sunflouer04 @coriiiioooooo @xdbug-bob @rafe-cameronswife @idiotussupremus @grapejuice32 @dr3wstarkey @ineedtherapy1 @moustacherryismyhusband @davinashifts333 @barnesboo1967 @bee-43 @maybanksgirl69 @mirellef2001 @lillell467 @spenceatiny18 @obxshift @rafeysworldim19 @justsomerandompersonintheworld @thepopcultureaddict @rafeysworldim19 @justdamnpeachy @masongetinmybed @acidfeens @starsval @cali-888 @vivian-555 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @moonywhisp3rs @jaes-last-words @itsmimi16 @crvcified-kinx @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @tbhashtonn @bbyg4rl

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Florida Kilos | Pairing: Jason Duval x Ex!Reader | Author's Note: I need GTA VI neeoowwwwwwww!!!!!!! I NEED JASON DUVAL NOW!!!!! "THEY REHEATED THE ARTHUR MORGAN NACHOS!!!!!!" I scream as they drag me away to the asylum.

Jason Duval had a buzzcut now.

You noticed it before anything else, before the thick new muscle on his frame, before the gold chain catching light against his tan skin, before the way his arm was slung a little too casually around her waist. His hair — the long, sun-streaked mess you used to tug on when things got heated — was gone. Shorn down to the scalp like he was trying to erase the kid you used to know.

And maybe he had.

Because Jason wasn’t playing small-time in the Keys anymore. No, not with Lucia on his hip — the Lucia you’d heard whispers about, the one with the sharp mouth and sharper instincts, the kind of woman who didn’t play second to anyone.

Your stomach turned when you saw them, all wrapped up in each other like they owned the place. Lucia’s eyes were always moving, clocking everyone in the bar, but when her gaze slid over you, it was indifferent. Like you weren’t even a blip on her radar.

Jason, though — he wasn’t so smooth.

His eyes locked on you, and for half a second, that cocky grin twitched. Like he wasn’t expecting you here. Like maybe seeing you knocked him off balance just a little.

You let your eyes drag over him, slow and deliberate.

“Buzzcut, huh?” you muttered, stepping close enough that only he could hear. “Guess you really are trying to pretend the Keys never happened.”

Jason’s jaw tensed. That familiar tick in his temple. “Maybe I just got tired of dragging around dead weight.”

You almost laughed. “Is that what you call it now? Dead weight?”

Your eyes flicked to Lucia, then back to him. “Tell me, Jason — does she know you used to cry every time you busted up your hand? Or is that another thing you shaved off with the hair?”

Lucia’s brows lifted, finally paying attention. Jason’s hand on her hip tightened, subtle but there.

“You should walk away,” he said, voice low, dangerous in a way that used to thrill you but now just made your blood boil. “Before you say something you can’t take back.”

You stepped in, chest nearly brushing his. “Already did. Three years ago on that damn dock, remember? Or did you buzz that out too?”

For a split second, the whole room felt like it held its breath.

Jason’s lips curled into a sneer, but behind it — deep behind it — there was that flicker. That heat. That unfinished business that no amount of new girlfriends, new cuts, or new crimes could kill.

Lucia’s hand slipped down to his wrist, subtle but firm. Possessive. Like she could feel the shift in him too.

You smirked. “Didn’t think so.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, letting the weight of your words hang in the humid air. You didn’t look back — but you could feel his eyes burning into you as you walked away, every step stoking that slow, simmering fire you both pretended was dead.

You barely made it past the neon flicker of the bar’s open sign before you heard heavy footsteps behind you — fast, clipped. Jason.

“Hey.”

His voice snapped through the night, sharp enough to stop you in your tracks.

You turned slow, arms crossed like armor. “Took you long enough.”

Jason was on you in seconds, close enough that the heat radiating off him made your skin prickle. The ocean breeze did nothing to cool the air between you.

“You really couldn’t help yourself, huh?” His jaw was tight, eyes dark and storming. “Had to start shit in front of her.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry — did I mess up your little power couple moment? My bad.”

He stepped in closer, chest brushing yours now. That chain around his neck caught the light again, glinting like a warning.

“You think this is a game?” he growled, voice low enough that it rumbled through your ribs. “Lucia doesn’t play. You open your mouth like that again, and she’ll—”

“What? Finish what you started?”

You tilted your chin up, meeting his glare head-on. “Go ahead, Jason. Let her come for me. At least she’d be honest about it.”

His nostrils flared. That vein in his neck jumped — the same one you used to trace with your fingers when you still loved him, before all this turned toxic and ugly.

For a beat, neither of you moved.

The only sound was the muffled bass thumping from inside and the distant lapping of the waves.

Then Jason swore under his breath, voice cracking just enough to give him away. “You make me crazy, you know that?”

You smirked, sharp and mean. “Always did.”

His hand shot out, palm flat against the wall beside your head — not touching you, but caging you in. His chest heaved, close enough now that you could smell the mix of cheap cologne and sea salt, and under that, something familiar. Him.

Your breath hitched, just for a second. Mistake.

Jason caught it, his eyes flicking down to your mouth and back up.

His jaw clenched. “You don’t get to look at me like that.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips — reflex, but it made his eyes darken. “And yet, here you are. Chasing after me.”

His other hand twitched at his side like he wanted to grab you, shake you, maybe kiss you — maybe both. You weren’t sure which one you wanted either, and that was the real problem.

“I should go back inside,” he muttered, but he didn’t move.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “You should.”

Neither of you moved.

The air felt thick enough to choke on. Your heart slammed against your ribs, traitorous and loud.

Jason leaned in, just enough that his lips brushed your ear when he spoke. “Next time you pull that shit… I won’t let you walk away so easy.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight. “Next time, maybe I won’t.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again, something dangerous flickering there — something old and raw and very, very alive.

Then, like a switch flipping, he straightened, scrubbing a hand over his buzzed scalp like he could shake you off.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked back inside, leaving you alone in the sticky Florida night, pulse racing and every nerve on fire.

He could still feel it sometimes — the ghost of your fingers threading through his hair, slow and lazy like they had all the time in the world.

Back then, they did.

Back before everything got complicated. Before the money, the jobs, and Lucia.

Your legs were slung over his, bare skin sticking to his thighs in the sticky Keys heat. You sat sideways on his lap, one hand absently twirling a piece of his long, sun-bleached hair while the other traced idle circles on his shoulder.

Jason leaned back against the rickety porch chair, grinning like an idiot as he watched you squint against the late afternoon sun.

“Y’know,” he drawled, voice thick with that lazy contentment he never found anymore, “you’re real bossy for someone who’s technically not my wife yet.”

You paused, fingers caught in a tangle of his hair. Your eyes narrowed, amused. “Yet?”

Jason smirked, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. He reached up, caught your wrist, and tugged you closer until you were pressed up against his chest.

“Ok, Mrs. Duval,” he teased, voice warm and rough around the edges.

You snorted and shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

But he just laughed — full and loud, the kind of laugh that used to bubble up easy around you.

“Nah, I’m serious,” he said, grin softening into something more real. His hand found your hip, fingers curling there like they belonged. “You’d look good with my name. All official and shit.”

You stilled against him. The banter dropped a little, tone shifting like it always did when he got too close to the thing they never quite said out loud.

“Jason,” you warned, voice quieter now. “Don’t say that if you’re not gonna propose. That’s messed up.”

His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened — cocky but earnest in that dumb, dangerous way he had.

“But I will,” he said simply. Like it was fact. Like there was no world where it didn’t happen. “One day. I swear.”

You rolled her eyes, but he felt the way your body softened just a little like part of you wanted to believe him. Like maybe you did.

“Sure, Duval. I’ll believe it when I see a ring.”

Jason just laughed again, tipping his head back against the chair, letting your fingers go back to weaving through his hair like they were stitched into him.

And in that moment — sun setting, beer bottles clinking somewhere in the background, your weight warm and solid on his lap — he meant it. He really fucking meant it.

But now, standing outside some grimy Vice City dive with Lucia waiting inside, Jason could only feel the phantom sting of that promise.

Because he never did buy that ring. Never made her Mrs. Duval.

And judging by the way she looked at him tonight — all sharp edges and bitter heat — she remembered that too.

[miss-tarja]

Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 5)

WARNINGS: Emotional distress, graphic mentions of injury treatment, power play (Employer-employee), character introduction, implicit jealousy, risky behaviors, gun handling, cursing, novela level drama.

Summary: The cracks in Miguel's vendetta started showing.

A/N: After months of not updating this one, here's this little offering. Hope you like! Feedback much appreciated.

Previous Series Masterlist

The acute ringing and distressed voices still thundered through your head with powerful echoes. The chaos had clung for a second too long on your bones even after you were brought to safety. All thanks to James’ opportune help and Vicky’s presence. 

Not only had the press swarmed you, but so did your parents, a couple of medical staff, some helpers, leaving you with little to no space to breathe, to cry or even react. Mayhem. Was the only word you could use to pinpoint at what revolted in your head. So many voices calling you, including Miguel’s faint plea, jumbled in this mess of overlapping shouts that increased your heart’s beat, until Vicky took your head gently and placed it on her chest after the car’s door slammed shut.

Even if the manor was some couple of blocks away, James had been ordered to drive you back, so the medics could help you out at once. Your parents wouldn’t risk it to let unfitting photos of your vulnerability to roam Santa Margarita’s newspapers and sink even more their now tarnished reputation.   

“You're safe now, mi niña .” Vicky breathed. It was the only voice you needed right now. The only one you’d listen to, and the only person you wanted around. 

Screw your parents, screw that gorgeous brunette that leeched off Miguel’s body, screw everyone that laughed the moment everything went to shit, and definitely, screw Miguel. The latter broke you into thousands of tears that dissolved into Vicky’s poncho. Her soothing embrace was the hero for the night, same for her unspoken comfort words. 

The pain and shame had been too much for you to stand against them in a single fight. They had won in a flawless victory against broken promises, angry and reproaching shouts from your parents in the front seats, and of course, being the new laughingstock in town.

Despite the throbbing pain in your left arm, clinging to Vicky supposed your immediate solace. Comfort that vanished as soon as you got to your room, your sanctuary of sorts that none other than your beloved nana or the cleaning staff had access to. But now, it would be turned into a public room thanks to the unwanted visits and pity you’d receive from strangers and friends alike. 

Oh God, no.

The medics rushed to your side, ready to slice the dress’ sleeve to shreds if needed, but Vicky helped you to change into something more comfortable before the realigning of your bones began. One doctor took your pressure as the other one flashed the bright light to your eyes, to discard the possibility of a concussion. Your fall had made quite the impression on many. 

Besides a pounding headache and your anxiety shooting for the stars, there weren't any other serious injuries that required immediate attention in your arm. A ghastly sight met the experienced doctor’s scrutiny. And you didn’t have to be a trained individual in the arts of diagnosis to know it was bad, as he seized your swollen, reddening and definitely bruising arm where the ropes had tangled themselves around you, with a solemn face.

“Hold her still please.” The doctor instructed and your eyes widened in utter horror when Vicky used her whole frame to hold you in place. 

“W-Wait, Vic-” 

The pained wail that left your lips echoed through Cherryville, stopping animals and people’s existence for that brief moment, earning some couple of frightened barkings and bleatings outside, just as the physician pressed on your wrist, trying to assess how deep the damage had been and realigning as much bones as he could, despite you trying to pull your hand back to escape the good intended torture.

“We’re almost done, Miss Anderton!” the doc hissed, as he wrapped your hand and wrist in tight bandages to keep the disturbingly misplaced and dangling limb, somehow back into its place. But pain once more overpowered you, leaving the galen no choice but to sedate you, for you to sleep as much as you could through the night. 

Much to his little surprise, your parents and a good bunch of people waited outside, even Miguel, who finally gathered all the courage he could to approach and see or hear what the damages had been. But the doctor’s news made most of the attendees wear their concerned faces in a go.  

“Good news it’s that her arm isn’t broken, she’s strong. But, I had to sedate her so she could sleep the whole night.” His gloved fingers fixed his lenses, “Miss Anderton needs some X-rays and MRI’s to see how bad the dislocation is. And depending on what we find, we’ll start treatment.”

“Thank you, doctor.” William nodded while he removed his hat and fixed the graying strands. Patience flickering the more everyone’s eyes lingered on him.

And when the doctor and his assistant left, the tension falling upon the manor proved denser than William's stubbornness. None dared to utter a peep, not even the night critters that remained well hidden from the Pastor’s silent wrath.

“William.” Rosaura however was the brave one to face him, she called with that tone many in the manor knew by now as an upcoming fight.

“That’s enough, Rosa. This is not a freak show for everyone to see.” William dismissed her with a flick of his wrist as he made his way towards his own sanctuary. But his wife wasn’t having it.

“Freakshow?! Freakshow is the one our daughter gave in front of more than two hundred people and the press, goddammit! What… what were you even thinking!?” Rosaura’s voice pierced through everyone’s eardrums, buzzing them with vexed notes of disbelief. And those were enough to stop the Pastor in his tracks. The patriarch turned around to face his wife with a look Miguel knew all too well. The same boiling look he gave Conchata back when he first showed up in his old home. And Rosaura’s mouth snapped shut. 

“That’s. Enough.” He seethed Rosaura through gritted teeth, his cheeks warming up but not in embarrassment, but a deep rooted anger simmering below the surface, waiting to explode to either the right or wrong person that dared to defy him. 

Of course he wouldn’t let strangers know the extent of his wrath, as it was only reserved for those that had earned it. Problem was, he had none else but himself to blame, as he had been the one demanding you to change horses last minute. Nevertheless he called James, another helper nicknamed Wilbur and the horse master himself, Miguel. 

That had no choice bit to follow the group, with pursed lips, gritted teeth and words ready to punch the Pastor’s ego if needed. His plump mouth itched to say “I told you so” , because he had. Oh, he had, and now you were injured. Yet, unlike William, Miguel recognized half of the fault was his. His promise of being there for you was not only broken but trampled over more than he wanted to admit. 

In his defense, he really didn’t know that Dana would show up and distract him as he was trying to reach the construction master, back at his property to fix the lighting system for his future home. The news of him not showing up for more than two days sure had crisped his nerves. And then, the unwelcomed kiss of his pestering shadow happened, taking him completely by surprise, just as chaos unfolded outside. 

But none of his explanations would manage to wash away that defeated and hurt look you wore when James pulled you out of Oddie’s dangerous riot. None of it would get his reputation clean again with you. Hopefully you hadn’t seen the kiss with Dana, or else, any chances of you speaking his way again would go out the window for good. He hoped not. 

As much as he needed you for his plans, he knew that getting you physically hurt wasn’t anywhere in them. Until now. It had happened in such a fleeting momentum that didn’t give him the time to properly brace himself for the impact. And now here he was, ready to fight the current tragedy’s instigator with valid arguments stashed in his pockets. 

The door clicked and William plummeted on his creaking chair.  “You three are in charge of my horses’ rehab. Am I right?” William spoke while removing his hat so the three young men could look at his eyes. They nodded, William followed. “What’s the estimated time lapse of a rehab, Mr. O’Hara?” 

“It all depends on-” Miguel’s lips tightened into a thin line as William interrupted him.

“I don’t want depends , I need numbers, Mr. O’Hara.” 

“With all due respect, Mr. Anderton…” his fist clenched in each side of him, blazing eyes pinning the holy authority in his spot. “I don’t rush things, especially horse’s rehabilitation, as it prevents accidents, like today’s.” 

Anderton’s eyes narrowed as James’ and Wilbur widened ever softly at Miguel’s bravado. 

“That’s why I hired you, Miguel .” Oh, how the bastard dared to speak his name so disdainfully?, “I was promised a professional to-”

“You have him.”  He bit. But you’re not listening . The words nearly spilled without his permission, but an unnecessary quarrel wasn’t in his list, not when the tension weighed everyone in the room with its oppressive presence. “That’s why I'm telling you, it all depends on the horse. Oddie needs at least two months-”

“See? You gave me numbers. I’ll make it simple for you, if two months on Oddie isn’t rehabbed, He’d be put down, and all of you fired. Am I clear?” 

Neither Miguel nor William’s gaze backed away. Both too proud to back down their clashing stares. 

“...Yes, sir .” His mouth tasted sour, dirty and defiled every time he called his enemy with the regard William clearly lacked towards him. 

“Oh, and Mr. O’Hara… Let’s keep it professional and tone it down, shall we?”

Miguel nodded through flaring nostrils, glad his massive back faced the apparently holy but wealthy man or else, William could see the pining for educating him in his countenance, itching a bit too all consuming to turn around and punch Anderton's mouth with all the strength he knew he possessed. 

Pendejo…

He truly couldn’t help it. Every time that William spoke, his ears wished to be deaf. His heart spiked with an unpleasant mix of anxiety, reprisal and a newfound, bottomless anger the more the haughty pastor expressed his contempt with things that dared to exist around him on certain days. 

At least I’m not fired. 

The thought probably roamed the other helpers as well, since color returned to them as soon as they stepped out of William’s office. The discreet and triumphant smile donning Miguel’s lips only widened upon realizing that William just wanted to intimidate them in order to hide his own guilt, cause he didn’t mention anything regarding you or the parade. Or asked where he was at the moment chaos waltzed in, uninvited.

But that satisfaction was overshadowed by the sudden thought of your pained screams, along the rejection clear as the moonlight, in your eyes. It wasn’t a hatred look per se, but disappointment at its finest. The same he’d get from Conchata whenever his naive and younger self advised her to forget about revenge, to just move on with their lives and make a new start somewhere else.

As if. Miguel had inherited hatred, and Conchata always made sure to remind him of the opportunities he missed due a lack of  a proper home he could call his. She always made sure to remind him of the little compassion William had shown towards them, and as a man, his task was to fight and retrieve what was his. And it was his duty as the eldest, to see that rotten legacy accomplished. 

But a part of him, reduced as it was, urged to apologize. Physical damage on thirds wasn’t something he liked to indulge in, since he was more of a cunning and strategic oriented  man. 

He didn't need dirty tactics such as violence, not when his brain could come up with  creative solutions to whatever problem showed up. And hopefully, your kind nature would lay a chance for him in order to try and fix  what he broke with both hands and meaningless pretty promises.

It was times like these where Miguel didn’t know if the universe was his ally or foe. One moment there it was, conceding the yearnings of his heart by handing the tools for his vendetta in a silver plate, to then having you, avoiding him like the black plague at all costs. Like if his mere presence would bring an end to your existence if he ever approached you again.

The trip back from the doctor just soured his mood upon watching you, returning with a sling and a special brace wrapped around your wrist the next day. You had sprained it. The main reason why you didn’t grace everyone’s day with your presence back at the dining hall. He didn’t feed the thought too much back then as it was only natural to assume you were recovering. 

That, as soon as you could, you’d be leading again the meal services. Problem was that days stretched into clumps of a week. And silence on your end just rooted with a steely resolution. Just when he thought he had the chance of approaching, an accusing and cold stare seized him, -almost disgusted-,  before your heels turned around to return from where you came from. Or changed the walking route from a hall away to avoid interacting with him. 

It was a look he’d never had the fortune to experience, until now. There were no more tinkling eyes that shone with all the emotion a woman your size could muster upon seeing him. Just apathy seasoned with a sprinkle of detachment. There were no more sweet and shy smiles whenever your eyes met his own on accident. 

Just an impassive face that carried the weight of unknown expectations on her shoulders. And when the universe forced a brief encounter between you, nothing but cold politeness came his way. There were no more good spirited 'Good morning, Miguel' he had grown used to hearing in the little time he had worked in the ranch, but simple and emotionless nods of acknowledgement, along an aloof 'sir'.  

Just when he thought his severing ties with people’s skills were unmatched, here you were, proving him how wrong he was. How expendable and fleeting his presence had been in your life. And that stirred a conflict he hadn’t felt in years. Unpleasant and sour tasting as it was, he disliked being casted aside. He had been left in the cold for so long in his younger years due the lack of privileges, he had no option but to grow used to it. 

That didn’t mean however he enjoyed it. The cold shoulders, the diminishing stares, the curiosity that eventually turned into disgust in his peers' eyes, whenever they found out he and his family sojourned the city’s shelters, it all lingered forever engraved in his brain. But this rift, this deafening silence was all his doing. And the fact he was upset at not being able to fix it right away, just poked at those emotions he had buried in order to be the man he was today.

It was a pretty easy task, or so he thought initially. All he had to do was get his revenge through you by using you, recover what was his, evict the intruders of his home and have his family satisfied so he could enjoy the reward of his well planned vendetta. But a part of his brain had forgotten everything but one thing, to apologize. In fact, it was the very first thought he had as soon as he woke up. 

And the thought wouldn’t leave him alone, even if he poured himself into work and tried to play this ‘I’ll ignore you too’ game with you. It roamed his mind like a stalking ghost, especially when you were alone. He had tried to approach you, but your message was loud and clear. 

Leave me alone. 

The other part of his brain tingled with curiosity, as he didn’t peg you for someone that would recur to this sort of treatment over a mistake.  He had underestimated you completely, but also gave him a glimpse, tiny as it was, of your temper. The true self you maybe repressed for the sake of appearances. After all he had seen how these played a key role in Santa Margarita’s social life. 

Hell, he had seen the vast amount of delivery men with outrageous bouquets and ‘Get well soon' cards in them parading through the entrance the first three days after the parade’s fiasco. For a moment he really thought William had decided to give it a go to the flower business as well since they adorned a whole dining table. 

He also remembered how Rosaura was completely on cloud nine upon reading one card from a sumptuous and exotic bouquet arriving on the third day. Miguel also witnessed the many business partners William had, paying a visit to you. Some old, other youngsters that tried to increase their likeableness points with you. 

His lips curved in arrogance. If they knew that he, a supposed simpleton of a worker, had been the only one in making a mess out of your nerves by a simple smile of his, they’d be all palsy-walsy with him. 

But now, he had to think in ways to catch you alone, make his move and apologize. Cause God forbid his mind to keep ruminating on how to talk to you again. He needed to focus to erase the persistent image of your braced wrist replaying in an endless loop in his brain.

Two weeks had gone by and his heart began making abnormal tempos whenever he saw you on your own. Yet his feet refused to make the first step. 

It all mattered little however when a helper interrupted his rehabbing time with Agustin, by instructing him to prepare the horses and to wear a shirt with his last name embroidered over his left pocket with the logo of Cherryville on top, as they had a visitor coming over. Uniforms weren’t his thing as they never fit him properly. And the shirt didn’t seem to be the exception as it looked two sizes too small. 

And honestly, he couldn’t care less about formalities right now. Not when he had to prepare a good bunch of horses for someone that wouldn’t be interested in buying in the first place. It also piqued his curiosity. Who was so important that Rosaura herself supervised that everything was in its place? Everyone and everything seemed unusually perfect and impeccable. Even the staff members looked copy pasted since they all wore the same shirt. 

Scary.

Rosaura had this penchant for grinding his ears with her squeaky and entitled voice as she barked order around the ranch. For a moment he pitied the cooks as the pastor’s wife returned the entrées, since they were too uneven looking for her tastes. Even Vicky followed her like an unwilling company dog, making sure everything was alright. 

Miguel’s shoulders tensed when Vicky approached, patience escaping her pores thanks to Rosaura’s ridiculous demands at the last minute. 

“ Ey , Miguel. Did Johnson come and tell you about the horses?” 

“Yeah” He nodded, hanging the shirt on his shoulder. “All of them though?”

“What? No, no! Don’t waste your time. Just get Luisito and Midas ready. Maybe Horatio as well. Just in case. Mr. Kravinoff likes the exotic ones. And wear the shirt!” Vicky warned while leaving, and his brow quirked. 

Kravinoff. A surname that echoed like a broken record back in his college days but never had the chance, nor interest in finding out more about them, even to this day. He shrugged and headed for the tack room. 

How long has it been since Vicky came? His nose flared, frustrated. If there was something that really pissed him off, it was for people interrupting him in the middle of something important just to return whenever they pleased. 

Fucking rich

His eyes rolled for a third time, but Agustín’s whining pulled him out of that vexed trance. 

“¿Cómo la ves, campeón? Me piden cosas y ni se molestan en venir.” (How about that champ? They ask for things but don't even bother about em later.)

The stallion could only shake his head as if agreeing with Miguel while he brushed his mane. Although the silence and distance between you two had proved a nuisance, Miguel found himself deepening the bond with the horse. And it didn’t help that Agustín didn’t let others ride him or come closer. So far, only Miguel had the authority and enough trust with him to react positively. 

Agustín had been his anchor in the middle of this new chaos of unidentified feelings and dilemmas. Other horses like Luis, sure had his attention, but the black beast in particular had wormed its way into his revenge-filled heart. 

Just when Miguel was about to check Agustín’s horseshoes, a familiar laugh had his ears perking at once. That saccharine and melodious laughter could only belong to none else but you. He had provoked a couple of them back before you retreated to silence, yet the sound had been engraved subconsciously in his mind. 

His breath stuck in his throat for a second longer than it should’ve, when you crossed the threshold, donned in a comfortable pair of  jeans that snugged your figure like a second skin, flaunting the right amount of curves around your hips, thanks to the belt wrapping with greed on your waist. A red flannel shirt that coincidentally matched the visitor’s top.  Brown leather knee boots, your signature Stetson hat and now wrist brace. 

Of course he wasn’t immune to your country-like charm, if anything your laughter just brought out the complete package. And it had been a while since he heard this much joy in your persona. It suited you way better than the emotionless yet polite greetings you received him with. His eyes shifted to the man next to you. 

Tall, muscly built, a warm sand skin tone, proper of someone that spent a lot of time outdoors. Draped in a red button shirt with rolled up sleeves, making a show of his well worked arms along some black jeans and boots. Miguel’s eyes raked his face and he found nothing but strong features. Not as strong as his, but manly enough to make the intruder irradiate an imposing and unyielding aura with each step he took. 

There was also a narrow and sharp nose that flared joy whenever he joined your laughing, bushy brows that framed a pair of expressive and amber eyes that turned golden whenever the sun poured into them. Despite the beard covering his neck and strong jaw, it remained well groomed and kept, like the shiny, dark and wavy locks perched on his head. Slicked  back with elegance. 

Miguel’s brows couldn’t help but crinkle in mild amusement. Maybe he had found on his own the type of man you were attracted to, because he could dare to say the man was like a more refined, paler and shorter version of him. His red eyes rolled and his nose scoffed. His mind couldn’t help but wonder if you were flaunting yourself on purpose, as if to throw at his face that everyone but him deserved your attention.  

Yet, the man had you laughing with the same type of smile he had induced in your short-lived talks. What was so funny anyway? 

“Still, you were brave and held onto him, that’s no easy feat.” The man spoke and soon you both forayed into Miguel’s territory. Only then the horse expert could see the strange piece dangling in the man’s necklace. A lion tooth. 

“I was told I’d find the most beautiful horses here in Santa Margarita.” Miguel’s ears didn’t let the russian accent slip away, “Glad I wasn’t lied to. Look at that!” 

Much to Miguel’s and your surprise, your companion clicked his tongue and made the golden horse a signal for it to approach. Miguel frowned, aghast that a stranger would take such liberties in his playground and for you to allow it. He cleared his throat. 

“Sir?” He called to the pretty boy and approached him, “This training area is closed for now, if you want to, I can take the horse to the other ring.” Offered Miguel curtly.  

“My apologies for that. It’s been a while since I saw an Akhal-Teke.” He cleared his throat, “Sergei Kravinoff, or Kraven for shorts, licensed professional hunter and Miss Anderton’s friend, at your service.” The Russian offered his hand and Miguel didn’t have a choice but to shake it with a wary countenance and a tight grip, which Kraven tightened. 

“Miguel O’Hara. Rehabber and agricultural administrator.” He spoke flatly, glancing briefly at the tightening handshake.

“I’ve heard great things about you in my short stance, Mr. O’Hara. I’ll know who to come to if I get my own horses.” 

“So, you know about horses too?” You quipped from the other side, ignoring Miguel.

“Not as much as he does, I bet.” Sergei chuckled and Miguel just curled his lip in a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he let the guest’s hand go, “But I can spot a quality horse whenever I see one.” 

Midas approached with an elegant trot, letting the sun to bath him, honoring its name as it shone under the sun rays like a beast pulled out from a fairytale. He allowed Sergei to pet him before trotting away.  

“What’s his name?” 

“Midas.” Muttered Miguel, flatly as he crossed his arms on his chest. “Let me bring you his chair.” 

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it.” His hand shook, stopping Miguel, but then gestured your way. “Unless krasotka*  here wishes to ride her horse.” (Gorgeous)

Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment when the attention of both men turned to you. Miguel’s brow quirked ever lightly at your reaction. But Sergei huffed, pleased to cause such a response on your end. You cleared your throat.

“I think I’ve had enough rides for a while.” Your eyes darted to the brace, nesting a bit too comfortable around your wrist. “But if you wanna ride them, go ahead.”

Miguel had also seen your eyes casting down towards your injured limb, and tartness bloomed in his tongue. It was a not so subtle reminder of what he was unable to keep safe. And the broken promise that haunted him with unexpected shame. 

Agustín whined, snatching the attention from the three. Sergei’s eyes twinkled with wonder, but before he could approach the ring the black stallion was, Miguel came in between his line of sight. Despite the lack of emotions plastered in his face, his voice sapped all the excitement in Sergei. 

“Agustín is off limits, sir. He’s currently on his rehabbing sessions. Going in unprepared would be a significant danger for you. The least we’d like is another accident. Do we?” 

Your jaw tensed, and your eyes couldn’t help but narrow at Miguel. 

Cynic. 

“That would be unfortunate indeed.” Your arms crossed on his chest, “Good we can count on you going nowhere, right Mr. O’Hara?” Your mouth couldn’t help but backfire with a tinge of anger that made the aforementioned gulp, taken aback by the sudden implicit bite of your words. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, señorita .” But he quickly recovered to reply in the same dark hint of sarcasm as you.

Jerk!

Your mouth nearly opened to fire again, but Sergei interrupted the verbal spar before the sudden hostile and volatile tension exploded between you both. All it needed was the right or wrong spark for it to roar alive.

“It’s alright, Miss Anderton. I’ll take Mr. O’Hara's warning at heart.” Sergei offered his arm on your good hand and you took it. Allowing him to take you out of the training rings without much hesitation. 

You didn’t bother to look back, despite Miguel’s eyes burning holes into your body. 

And once you were out of his sight, Miguel could only chuckle. Completely delighted at the brief yet fierce encounter. Curious as to what you were about to tell him if it wasn’t for Sergei’s intervention. But oh the need to see more of those glimpses again made his heart shimmy with a thrill he rarely felt, for they have fuelled him with a healthy dose of adrenaline and a much needed bickering after a long while of silence. 

Ever since that clash with you, Miguel kept a discreet eye on your activities. Just to see if he had more of those exquisite peeks of your newfound anger. Sadly, you had been too busy with Vicky, disappearing into a corner he hadn’t seen yet from the ranch. Whatever serious and grim expression you carried to that spot, vanished by the time you were back. 

You always returned radiant, a bit flushed on the cheeks with a satisfied smile plastered all over your pretty face the more you gained more mobility in your injured hand. Sergei had returned a couple of times, but unlike the first one where he witnessed just the two of you, your parents, especially Rosaura, seemed all too keen into receiving him and making sure he sat next to you on lunchtime. 

The gossip didn’t take long to spread, saying how much Rosaura approved of Kraven as a new possible suitor for you. The idea of him being around didn’t exactly bother him, but he wasn’t fond of Mr. Kravinoff snooping around the horses to try and impress you with his superficial knowledge about them. Ad he just delayed his working hours. 

The distant gunshot however, made him recoil by the abrupt boom echoing in the air, Agustín whined and pawed the grass with perked ears. “Easy there, champ.” His brows furrowed and the first thing he thought of was to reach for the walkie-talkie attached to his hip and ask for the rest of the horses that grazed in the upper fields. 

“Wilbur is putting the mares out for a bath and I’m putting Oddie his horseshoes. Miss Anderton took Luis away.” James replied through the channel. 

“Roger that. Over.” 

His eyes narrowed to focus on the grass path leading to a new area he hadn’t seen yet out of lack of time, but another gunshot echoed, making both him and Agustin hold their breaths. When the third shooting echoed, Miguel didn’t waste time and urged Agustin forward. 

A myriad of things ran through his mind. Who was shooting? What were they shooting at? Horses? Was that like how William got rid of the sick ones? Bile rose up in his throat, the hatred for the intruder family only increased once more at the mere idea of such inhumane kills. But all of his racing thoughts stopped as soon as Luis appeared ahead, calmed and grazing the ground before him

What the hell?

Luis remained tied to a post, in a prudential distance to not be spooked by the shootings. It took a moment for him to decide to follow and tied Agustín in there. To then walk over the now arid dirt road ahead. The smaller boot footprints led him to a little unevenness; he had no issue jumping off, just to stop at the rare, nearly fantastical sight before him. 

The path had guided him to a makeshift shooting ring, where the dummies, strawmen with uneven circles painted in them, rested in pieces a couple of feet away from the wooden fence separating you from them. 

Your Stetson hat made a wondrous job from keeping the blinding sun off your eyes, as you narrowed them to focus on the target. And your finger triggered a perfect shooting that blew in thousands of strands the strawman’s head. 

Cerecita?

He had to blink twice to make sure what he was seeing was real. That the ever sweet and somewhat awkward pastor’s daughter had just shot in the bullseye a dummy, with a single hand. And not enough, recharged the revolver like if you knew the weapon from the tip to rear’s end. Flipping with expertise the barrel and throwing away the empty casquets on the ground, just to push a new set of dirty golden bullets in the now available six spaces. 

And damned be him if he didn’t admit that when you tilted your hips left, to steady your shooting, his breath caught once more as the shot rumbled through the sky.  There were no people around you. Just the revolver in your hand, the bullets stacked in a pouch and the controlled anger you let out with every shot. 

Bendito...

His feet however, crunched over a bush, alerting you immediately. You turned, weapon in hand, aiming at him with the most resolute look he had ever seen in someone, ready to pull the trigger. And his cheeks flushed discreetly when his groin throbbed without permission. 

Focus, Miguel. 

“What are you doing here?” Oh the scowl adorning your lips was the final touch for this newfound admiration. There it was, the glimpse he was looking for. 

“I didn’t meant to… interrupt. Cerecita.”

“Quit calling me that. It’s Miss Anderton for you.” 

He chuckled like a teenage boy being finally addressed by an impossible crush, and that only deepened your frown. 

“Wanna tell me what’s so fucking funny?” 

God, you were killing him. Sweet and delicate on the outside but filthy mouthed and hot tempered with a gun in hand on the side. The perfect combination the doctor prescribed him. It was the right amount of sweetness and bite all together. Like a perfect and exquisite cherry. He definitely had chosen the right nickname for you. 

“Discúlpeme, Señorita Anderton , but it’s not every day you hear his holiness’ daughter speaking and acting like this. Aren’t you supposed to be in therapy for that? 

“What do you think this is for me?.” An annoyed huff escaped you, “Do you have a habit of following whatever horse you find lost?”

“It led me to you, didn’t it?” His head tilted

“What are you here for? I’m sure your shift isn’t done yet and Papa already has you in his sight.” 

“Well, your… Papa can wait. Ididn't know I'd find you here, but guess I'll seize the chance and apologize for-.” 

“I accept your apologies. Now leave me alone.” You huffed and turned to the dummy again, ready to shoot it. When he was about to rebut, you purposely pulled the trigger, silencing whatever excuse he was about to give you. 

Far from being angry or offended, Miguel had to contain his mirth. It had been too much for his own good. He had been asking for more of that true self you hid from others, that was now smothered by it. And even to his own surprise, the thought of gladly dying in it crossed his mind. 

“Will you at least let me explain myself?” 

“No. Your insincerity speaks for you and it’s done enough. And I happen to have a terrible dislike for liars.” Your hand dismissed him while focusing on your target.

“Cerecita, look-”

“You promised to be there! Look at what happened!” Your voice raised an octave higher as you pointed at your brace, “You weren’t there.” 

“I was busy attending a call for my property!” He grumbled without permission once more, it was as his tongue acted by itself in spilling the truth, ugly and uncomfortable as it was. “You really think I’d want this to happen?” He strode closer to you, trying to take a hold of your hands, which you quickly shook off. 

“But it did! It happened, I screwed my hand because of you and now I must wait a couple of weeks more to get this shit off my arm. Do you even have an idea how scared I was? You out of everyone knew so!” 

“Well, you didn’t seem scared when you showed up the other day with that guy in the stables.” He hovered over you, giving your nape a good bend as your head craned to see him. "What are you playing at, hm?"

Your whole face contorted in disbelief. How dared he to be claiming things when he started first? 

“You’ve got balls to say so when you ate that brunette’s mouth, while working! Right after you promised me to be there!” 

Shit

His mouth clamped shut. You had seen him with Dana. You knew. 

“You really got the nerve to reproach me things you shouldn’t, and then you pretend I have no right to be mad and disappointed at you, when you’ve given me nothing but mixed signals?! Make up your mind, will you?”

“Hey, no. No.” He waved a warning finger at you. “Mixed signals? What are you talking about?!” Miguel shook his head, confused. Which only flared that anger within. 

“Oh, fuck you!” The phrase alone surprised you, but damn him and his lies. Without much saying you took the bullet pouch from the ground and put the gun back into your holster. “I’ve got enough shit on my shoulders to worry about a man that doesn’t know what he wants, or knows accountability for his mistakes.”  

Tremendos ovarios los que se carga para hablarme así. (She’s really got courage to sassmouth me that way.)

“God, you… You look adorable when you’re angry.” He grumbled loud enough for you to hear in between amused titters, holding his jaw. But far from amusing you, it only sunk him deeper in your black list of men to stay away from.

“Oh, then you're gonna love me when pissed. Leave me fuck alone, O’Hara.” You hissed before passing by his side. Disbelief taking complete control of your reasoning. Who did he think he was?

His hand grabbed your arm and pulled you effortlessly right in front of him. “ Hermosa , it’s not what you’re thinking.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t wanna hear it!. God, I swear whe I really thought you different, but you just go and prove me you're like the rest of men in this city! Just because you’re handsome gives you the right to act like an asshole!”

“Oh, so you do think I’m handsome?” His smile stretched, cocklily, only to disappear when you pushed him away, begging for space. Disappointment on your end only deepened.

“Promises are important for me. And you… broke yours. Why should I believe anything you say?” 

Miguel sighed, as his eyelids drooped with something alike guilt. He tried to tackle the problem with a pinch of humor, but it only backfired.

“You’ve said and done enough. Have a good evening.” 

“Please, just let me-” His hands went up immediately as the tip of your gun’s cannon aimed his way, a steely scowl curled in your lip.

“I said, have a good evening. ¿Comprendes?” (Understood?)

His throat shut closed, his eyes rounded with skepticism as you left him there. Stranded with all his defenses on the ground, bare like if a hurricane had trampled over him, leaving nothing but another pang of something in his groin. He gulped after blinking away the dryness of his eyes. Surprise had kept them open for too long.

“Dios mio…” He chuckled, breathless. Still trying to process what on earth just happened. You had confronted him, put him in his righteous place, given him a good spoonful of his own medicine and most importantly, you had aimed his way with a gun while looking absolutely ravishing with the anger oozing out from every pore of your  skin.

A skin whose heat lingered in his palm and fingertips. Tingling with this unknown but all too consuming sensation he found himself in the need to taste a little more and a little longer, against his better judgement. 

“Damn you, Anderton.”  He chuckled yet again, despite the new dilemma waltzing in his mind. Once again, an Anderton had screwed him. And far from igniting that urge of revenge like they all did, his mind was already drifting to a completely different direction he never imagined himself considering. 

An Anderton,the sweetest of them all, had reminded him of his place, and he couldn’t help but like it.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

taglist:

@maiyart @miss-canon-event @fussyhedgehog @spider-mar2004   @fayeofthenightingale @hualianlover800 @tatatida @plusultrayokai @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @lazy-idate   @peachey-pie @ryk-mt @gennirose @teothemilfhunter @monarchberrysblog @tae21xoxo @1sun-vixen @amelialysm @ir-the-cat @oblivion777 @arleydyn7 @loliknya @maxad99

@choppednerdtriumph @oharasfilipinawife @mikiyamarie @omgomgomgaaa @lucyh237 @beabfleab @akrassia020 @teaiiv @mi4ulayy @namjoons-babygirl @unadulteratedeaglecollection @strawberryjuice9 @aphinthestars @tyuiofo @sleepyyjaz @notavault @stabygabby @happykoalapoetry @g1icino11a @yougavemeyourheartyouknow

@famouscattale @websinthecity @enananawoah @cigarettes-and-musique @spiderpapi2099 @angel @happyowlsoul @samjinxx @cyberillusion-li @miguelzslvtz @ange-grayson @angel-of-the-moons