#i'll probably log out right now
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tardis--dreams · 28 days ago
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Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care
#i have 14 hours overtime#collected within 2 weeks lol#you know how it's apparently mandatory for companies in germany to have a way track employees working time? yeah we're#the only company in the whole fucking country who doesn't do that (obviously that's not true there's probably plenty more but it's#still not right.) so we don't get paid overtime nor does it get acknowledged in any way#so technically we're not allowed to even it out (which most people try to do anyway because tf do they think they are asking us to work for#free) but I'm dedicated to not collect any more unpaid working hours so i take the liberty to leave work early this week#so today i left at 12pm (and then got home 4 hours later because another person decided to kill themselves by train. they should call me#first. or anyone else taking the train. I'm sure there'd be plenty of volunteers to do the killing if it means not another miserable day#stuck in a disgusting train). and i logged in again at 6pm today to see if i have anything important messages (stupid i know)#and i saw the missed calls and that there had been an email exchange with me in the cc talking about the 'changes' made in one of the#articles and that someone else could do that for me since i couldn't be reached and at first i felt ashamed and scared#but now it's honestly just pissing me off. that asshole can't write emails and communicate requests like normal people can he#he already called me last week about something completely stupid and acts like his matters are the most important shit in the world#fuck you if you can't wait one day you should have sent this a month earlier because i won't stay online everyday#just to see if there might be an 'important' change you want me to make Immediately. bitch.#also missed two calls from my colleague but she didn't send any messages about what she wanted so i asked her because i felt bad for not#being online and turns out she wanted Nothing. just hear how i was. JUST TEXT ME THEN???? I HATE IT HERE FUCK YOU#seriously i don't get paid enough for this to bother me so much. she probably gets 12-15€ more than me per hour#of course she doesn't care about her overtime as much as i do. i get minimum wage which is less than what I'd get if i still worked at uni#as a student assistant so fuck this shit it's really not important or worth it. from now on i'll only put in minimum effort too#sorry got carried away. rant over now i guess#void screams#work stuff
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mechahero · 2 months ago
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//What if you wanted to work on stuff but your brain said no, make a scene based outfit the RH Lambda avatar
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arkon-z · 5 months ago
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what if i don't want uncertainty, huh? what then?
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orcelito · 7 months ago
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the hilarious thing will be if me being back in school actually Improves my productivity with writing. bc i have so goddamn much free time rn, but what am i doing with it? fucking anime and crochet. i really do need to get my ass in gear for cleaning and also writing this reverse bang fic. but really. im probably going to be able to do more writing once im back in school
How, you may ask?
procrastination is a powerful drug.
#speculation nation#also me having structure and something forcing me to be up and active#im just kinda sedentary. just kinda rotting. idfk.#im certainly not thriving.#theres not enough time to get a job b4 school starts again. wouldnt be worth it either. dont need the money & i dont wanna fuckin work#really i need to be spending this time getting my apartment in order. im just shit at self regulation.#i bought. a white board. for my fridge. and im going to use it. for lists.#im going to try making lists of goals to accomplish each day. and maybe that'll help me.#i also need to get out more. visit the woods. maybe that'd help me with my writer's block.#go to a goddamned bubble tea shop (besides the one i worked at lmfao) as motivation or something#im trying. i am. i'll get there.#i should probably start exercising again. havent been biking much in Months now. that's probably not good for me.#cleaned up a dumbbell to do some arm shit while watching things. idfk. some activity is better than none.#waaaaaaaaaaaaaa i really am just a fuckin lump on a log in my natural state of being. ugh.#doesnt help that the throat bleeding disease kinda fucked me up bad enough that my stamina is... worse than before.#i can probably get it back. but man. i feel like a wasted fucking shell right now.#my general absence from tumblr hasnt been me living life to the fullest. im just too goddamned depressed to post.#nothing interesting going on in my life. and so it goes.#i'll get there. im working on it. im trying to make things better for myself.#exercise and fresh air will do me well... just gotta get some exercise and fresh air...
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angeltism · 1 year ago
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I should deactivate actually
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fanaticalthings · 5 months ago
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Most children, once they've grown up and moved out, sometimes come back to visit their parents to use their house as a sort of personal grocery store
And with Bruce being a literal billionaire whose house is always stocked with food and supplies, the batkids (that aren't living in the manor) definitely visit just for the purpose of taking shit for themselves.
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For Dick, it's just small things, food and maybe some utensils. Bruce is barely in the kitchen so he never notices dishes go missing, and there are like 10 other children in his house so literally any one of the younger kids could've stolen food in the middle of the night, so he doesn't bat an eye at all.
Babs probably steals Bruce's hardware or his tools from the batcave. Sometimes, if she's nice, she'll leave a note.
Steph probably takes shit that no one will notice at the time but will absolutely be annoyed about when they need said thing. Stapler, soap bars, the microwave plate, etc...(Taking after Jason, she steals the hub caps off the batmobile's tires)
However, for Jason, once his relationship with Bruce is somewhat decent, of course he's gonna be petty and start stealing the more expensive shit in the manor for his apartment. Jason's microwave is broken? The next day, the cave's self-made and enhanced microwave made by Bruce for convenience is just gone.
Jason's feeling a coffee maker for his place? The one in Bruce's study disappears, too.
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At first, Bruce thinks he's just sleep deprived, but then much bigger things start to go missing, like the whole TV and couch set in the living room. He assumes the younger kids are just playing pranks on him (sounds like something Stephanie would do) but then Bruce notices that the thief deliberately avoids stealing things from the kitchen, which is where Alfred is most of the time, and suddenly Bruce has an irritated clue on who the culprit is.
At first, he doesn't say anything, until one day he comes back, tired from a patrol, and is about to log in all the info on the computer only to realize his batchair is gone. That's when he texts Jason a blunt "If you really need things for your place, you can just ask me. I'll buy them for you." (As if Jason himself isn't loaded from his totally legal activities)
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So now Jason's pettiness levels increase tenfold, and oh, wouldn't you look at it, his bike needs some new tires, and he knows a great place to get some more.
One night, Bruce is just blearily getting up for a late night snack, only to see Damian scamper away with a...lamp? So Bruce immediately follows him into the foyer only to see ALL of his kids (sans the ones not living in the manor), trying to haul two arm chairs out the window, and they just stop dead silent to stare at him until someone whispers a nervous "Crap"
Bruce doesn't even have any energy to fight, he just pinches his nose and is all "What is the meaning of this" in his tired dad voice. And Duke meekly responds with "we wanted more chairs at Jason's place"
And suddenly it all makes sense. Not once did Bruce wonder how the HELL Jason managed to lug a whole 60in TV and a full couch set on his own in one night. Of course, he had accomplices. Bruce just turns right around and goes right the hell back to his room to sleep. He'll deal with this in the morning.
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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 4 months ago
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Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader
I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.
Word Count: 13,439
Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury
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Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes. 
Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear. 
But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home. 
You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.
He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon. 
Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.
Today, however, was different. No text, no call.
It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.  
This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?
Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry. 
The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away. 
To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug. 
And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,’ he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’ 
Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.
He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward. 
It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering. 
Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke. 
The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment. 
His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him. 
“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path. 
“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”
Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”
“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you. 
“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”
“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.
Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”
Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”
Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief. 
“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”
Bucky’s ears started ringing. 
The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.
Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick. 
“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.” 
“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-” 
Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”  
“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”
“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.
She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”
“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.
Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”
A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”
Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ‘leave no man behind’ or whatever-”
Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.
“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”
Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor. 
His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”
Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.” 
And just like that, Bucky was gone. 
He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life. 
He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance. 
He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon. 
A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-
Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”
“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”
Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”
Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”
���I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative. 
Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field. 
“She deserves to come home,” he said.
Maria couldn’t argue with him. 
“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”
Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured. 
But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies. 
“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.
A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.” 
Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none. 
The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even. 
And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.
The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous. 
Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.
Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.
“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response. 
“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”
He couldn’t say yes fast enough.
A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.
He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?
“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”
He waited. 
No response.
“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…” 
The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.
 The thought made him nauseous.
“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.
He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late. 
He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself. 
But a small sound stopped him.
“Buck…”
He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.
A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…” 
A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you. 
He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”
A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”
Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.
But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”
“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”
Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.
“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”
Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale. 
He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have. 
What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?
Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.
“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”
Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could. 
“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-” 
Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.” 
And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival. 
But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”
“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed. 
Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities. 
“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”
“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”
Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”
Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.
“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him. 
Bucky felt no such thing.
“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”
You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”
Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.
“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat. 
Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake. 
The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.
“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”
Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.
“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”
He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you. 
Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate. 
“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”
The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of  misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.
“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed. 
A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have. 
He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.
“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.
“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”
Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel. 
He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory. 
Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.
It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.
“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows.  “I think I’m right around the corner.” 
This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.
“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.
Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know. 
But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.
“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.
But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.
“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”
At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.
“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”
“No, don’t be sorry, doll.” 
Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.
“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek. 
And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be. 
You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”
With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive. 
He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”
He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”
He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin. 
A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.
“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”
A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.
“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”
Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”
He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.
Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have. 
“We need to… to t-talk.”
“I h-have to tell you.”
“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”
And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later. 
But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.
Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach. 
They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds. 
With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.
“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”
His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again. 
With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better. 
Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change. 
Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still. 
Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer. 
He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that. 
“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”
Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”
“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”
Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-
“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”
He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions. 
But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.
“What are you doing? Keep going!”
“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”
“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”
Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest. 
He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.
He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.
Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.
The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over. 
“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”
The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.
“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”
After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to  relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.
Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again. 
“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”
Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat. 
The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.  
Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.
And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw. 
But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.
Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over. 
He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating. 
But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life. 
And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”
The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you. 
A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.
“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.
Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-” 
“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”
A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you. 
Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.
Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.
“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.
But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.
“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his. 
He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.
“Hi…” he breathed. 
Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”
Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.
“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”
Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”
“Feel what?”
Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible. 
“She crashed on the jet…”
“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”
“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.” 
A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.
“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”
“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”
“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.” 
His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge. 
“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch. 
Bucky only shook his head. 
“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”
Again, he refused. 
Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face. 
“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”
“But I-”
“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”
Bucky nodded. 
Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-” 
Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears. 
“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”
Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.
“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod. 
Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.
Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”
Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”
He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”
“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”
Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.
But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.
“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”
Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.
In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind. 
In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you. 
He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home. 
“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”
Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him. 
A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make. 
A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”  
Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor. 
He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you. 
Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”
And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you. 
By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again. 
He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet. 
“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.
“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.
His “thank you” was for more than just the door. 
Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours. 
All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again. 
He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath. 
An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured. 
After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…
And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral. 
“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.
Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.
A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.
Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.
“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”
Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”
Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.
Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him.  “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.
“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”
Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off. 
“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”
Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.
“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”
Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone. 
“I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.” 
You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”
The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”
Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success. 
And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option. 
“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”
There was no rationalizing this. 
An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.
“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.” 
Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of. 
You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”
Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.
“But you did.”
He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach. 
“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”
This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. 
“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. ���Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”
Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…” 
“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”
A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”
“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”
Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.
He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”
It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.
“Buck, it’s okay.”
He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off. 
“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.
 “Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”
“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”
A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay. 
You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”
Bucky lifted his head.
“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”  
Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.
“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”
“What?”
“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”
You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this. 
“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”
Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.
Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”
Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words. 
“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”
“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”
Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love. 
A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way. 
When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how. 
“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.” 
Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth. 
“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”
The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything. 
“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”
Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.” 
He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”
You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”
“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after. 
“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche.  “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.
“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”
Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”
“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.
“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”
You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home. 
--------------------------------------------------------
@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural  @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo  @juvellian @samanthacookieone  @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat
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lovverletters · 1 year ago
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Yandere! Streamer x Streamer! Reader
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A/N : I'm taking a break from the bullet point format and decided to try making a drabble instead. Huuge thanks to @bloozz for giving streamer his name🌷
T/W : Streamer reader, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, etc
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Damnit..! I lost again" He let out a defeated sigh as he watches the 'GAME OVER' screen blinking at him in an almost mocking way.
The chat of his live stream went wild upon his fifth time losing on a game that he had been playing for hours by now and yet he still hasn't been able to beat it.
"Yeahhh, thanks a lot chat! those 'L's you're spamming are definitely helpful" Micha rolled his eyes at the countless mockery his viewer was sending him. He knew it was all jokes- or at least he hope it is.
Deciding that he needed a break from the game, he cracked open a can of soda and laid back against his chair, opting to interact more with his viewers.
He had only been streaming for a few months and had gained a pretty sizeable amount of viewer and fanbase.
Bloozzclues : You should check (insert your streamer name) out! They've beaten this game multiple time and have some useful tips you can use.
"(Y/S/Name)? I've heard of them before, saw a few of their speedruns. I never understand how they manage to get that luck based glitch to work! But thanks bloozz! i'll be sure to check them out after stream" Micha replied to one of the chat and moved on to the others.
Soupispretty :(Y/S/Name) is actually watching your stream rn lol
Micha choked on his drink as he tries to contain his coughs. He almost spat out the soda onto his keyboard and it would've been a nightmare to clean it up.
Scrolling through the main page of the streaming website on his other monitor, lo and behold, the (Y/S/Name) was indeed watching his stream. Specifically, the parts where he lose to the same boss every. single. time.
He felt his cheeks reddened everytime he heard (Name) laughed or giggled at him. They wouldn't just laugh at him though, they would also insert in some advices for him to improve on which made him incredibly jittery with excitement.
(Y/S/Name) also known as (Name) has always been an inspirational figure of his when he first started streaming. To be acknowledged by his idol causes him to be so overwhelmed, he almost fainted from how fast his heart is beating.
The chimes of his subscription's notif brought him back to his senses, Micha's chats were going crazy from the streamer's trance like reaction to (Y/S/Name) stream.
Kafkaismywife : is he okay??
Peachesandcrem : bro looks possessed💀
Collecting what little composure he has anymore, Micha decided to end the stream under the guises of him being exhausted.
"Ahem.. er sorry about that guys, i think the sleep deprivation is getting to me. So, thank you all for being in this stream but I have to log off now!" He smoothly blurted out, getting back into his streaming persona.
After saying goodbyes to his viewers, he clicked the end stream button. Alone with his thoughts, Micha switches the screen back onto your stream.
He knew from then on, his adoration for you had grown into something more. Something deadly and dangerous.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
(Name) let out an exhausted sigh as they had just finished another successful stream. They played horror games for hours and ended the stream by reacting to random clips their viewer sent via mediashare.
"I should probably take a shower and take a long nap right after.." (Name) thought.
Ping!
It was the sound of their notifications, (Name) picked their phone up and clicked on it. They were directed to their twitter where the person had messages them.
Michatwt
Hey! Thanks a lot for the advice you gave me when you reacted to my live
"Oh it's that streamer i watched earlier on stream" (Name) spoke outloud as they quickly typed out a reply.
(Name)ishere
No prob! Thought you needed some tips to beat the game haha
(Name) sent out the reply and Micha replied immediately. 'He sure is a fast typer' they thought.
Michatwt
This might sounds odd but would you be down to make a collab with me? I think it'll be more fun if you teach me on stream
They paused for a moment, thinking over their decision. (Name) have been wanting to make a collab stream before but never got to it. This would be a great opportunity to produce some new content!
(Name)ishere
Sounds good! We'll discuss about this collab later, I got something to do right now
Michatwt
Of course! See you later haha
Somewhere else, Micha was jumping out of joy and practically on his knees thanking the higher beings for this opportunity he's been given to be close to his idol, his (Name).
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
A/N : ending on a cliffnote because this has been rotting in my draft.
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valeriele3 · 6 months ago
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✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻-𝒜𝓌𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝓀𝒶𝒾 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝑅𝒶𝒾𝓁
✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
✎ Sorry for the somewhat rushed ending! ^^;
✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
Messages.
Idle chats.
You were answering them like normal. Sometimes even giggling on the messages
✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
You log in, check your messages, answer them if there's one, do daily tasks, and maybe farm, then log out. That was your daily routine in HSR.
However, you begin to notice how much more frequent the chats are. After assigning an assignment, you get a new message. 'Oh well. Free jades," you thought.
Every time you beat an enemy, boss, or do anything in the game, you will notice a new message.
'Maybe it was an update? Or a bug?' You brushed it all off and thought nothing of it.
You would answer all of them wholeheartedly; after all, you also noticed that if the character liked what you said, you'd receive more Stellar Jades.
You'd talk about it with your friends, but they'd respond with "I wish", "Oh shut up~ Don't make me hope", and "Hm? Is your game bugged?? Or is mine bugged? I don't get any of those benefits..So unfair."
You try to check the dev logs to see if there was an update regarding the messaging feature, but whenever you try to look at them, your computer freezes.
'No matter, I can just check using my phone.' No luck; it also freezes.
'Maybe my tablet?' Still the same.
Frustrated, you ask one of your friends to look into it. "There's no update or any fixes on it, Y/N. Maybe you should report it; your game might really be bugged."
✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
Deciding to report it, you open up Bug Report, but then your screen freezes again.
It then opens up the messages, and you read the following words:
| Hey
| Please don't do it.
| It took such a long time to break the code, you know.
| Hey
| Are you still there?
| Oh
| Right
The messaging bubble pops up.
| You can type now.
"W-What.." You stare at your screen dumbfounded.
Reaching out to your keyboard, hoping it won't work and choices will pop up, you press a random key, and it works
Startled, you immediately plugged out the cables on your computer, causing it to shut down.
You grab your phone and start messaging one of your friends. Before you could hit send, the screen blackened, and then in the next second, it lit up with a notification.
"Hey, we were in the middle of a conversation."
"Why did you suddenly leave?"
Your hand trembles. 'Shit, how..How did it get to my phone too..'
"I know I like reading self-aware au's but I didn't want it to actually be true!" You scream, throwing your phone across the room.
You can hear it dinging with new message after new message.
You decide to leave your room for a bit to calm down.
✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
"Ok..Be calm..I'm probably dreaming, right?"
"There's no way this kind of thing will actually happen in real life."
"I need to think about this rationally. I could try to get my phone and computer fixed..Maybe I accidentally got a bug."
"Oh, my tablet too..It probably has the same bug.."
"Then, uhm, should I tell them about this? No, maybe..Agh! This is so frustrating..!"
After going back and forth, you decided to sell your gadgets instead of trying to repair them. Buying new ones is much cheaper than trying to get them fixed.
✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
The first month was alright. You also stopped playing HSR just in case something of the sort would happen again.
However, everything changed when you awoke to your notifications going off like crazy.
【Luka】
| Hey! Y/N, wanna come watch my tournament this week?
【Qingque】
| Y/N
| This is urgent. Come to Exalting Sanctum
| Watch me go against this pro. I'm sure with your attendance I'll easily win.
【Robin】
| Y/N, would you like to come watch my concert?
| Don't worry! I made sure that you'd get the best seat.
【Sunday】
| Y/N. Do me a favor and attend Robin's concert, will you?
| If you don't..
| Well, it'll certainly make her sad. As for me, it's best you don't know.
【Arlan】
| Hello, Y/N
| Would you like to accompany me with walking Peppy?
【Blade】
| Come.
【Bailu】
| Y/N!
| I have made a huge discovery!
| Meet me at Aurum Alley!
【M̵̛̼̘̭͎͓̘̘̽̎̃̊̄͋̈́̑̇i̵̡̨̡͎̖̮͉̺̣͂ͅs̴̰͂̉́̅͒̆̄́̄̋̚͜͠͠͝ͅȟ̵͉̹̖͍͎̱̭̳̰̘̀a̵̧̨͔̣̘̮̻̐̆̌̀͑̊̄̄͌͗̓̌͘̕̚】
| C̷̛͇̬̥̼̲̙̠͓̭̺̱̻̟͖̜̾͑͋͊́̀̕͝ä̷̡̨̨̨̡̤̫͔̼̗̫̪̟̰́̏́̾̄͘͝ͅn̸̡̪̱̻̜̻̺͊̍͒̂͗̀̍͐̔͆̆̎̚̕̕ ̷̛̻̟̀̇͐͋̋̌̂͒́͑̏͝y̴̮͆͒̈͒͑͋͆̒̂̓̕͘̚͝͝o̸̩̫̰̤͌̈͝ͅu̷̻̗͉̥̺͕͉͔̠̯͇̭̖̐͜ ̵͖̲̼̥͑͝ḣ̵̟͓̆͌̄̑̂̈́̓̚͘̕͝͝e̷͖̥̜̅͛̂̒͒̕͜a̶̧̫̹͉͆͑̊͊̊̐̐̂̈̉̾͜͝r̶͎̫͛̑͊͌͐̎ ̴̢̢̛͓͉̮͇̞̬̪͔͓̦̾̓̈́̀͐̀̂̀͒͝ͅm̴̤̙͎̽͋̽̇͛́͑͌̃͑̊e̷̦͚̔́̔̀̒͊͂̔̕̚͝.̵͎͓̪̥͍̍̓͂̾̌̂̌̚̚ͅ.̵̨̟͉͕͈̜͎̻̗͓̯̜̜̩̓̈́̓͊̆̓̑͐̈̐̄̀̕?̵̙̠͚̆͊͊̇͌
【Aventurine】
| Why're you ignoring my calls and texts?
| Is the money not enough for you?
【Pela】
| The Tale of the Winterlands original artbook sold out in 1 second again
| But
| I was fast enough to get you a copy too
| Don't worry. I'm messaging the right person this time
【Natasha】
| Y/N, did your cold get better?
✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
You stare at your phone, frozen. Even as you were sitting there staring at it, the messages continued to flood nonstop.
It
Was
Nonstop
Even if it's on silent mode and DND, you can still hear it dinging.
At one point, the messages started appearing in all the social apps that you use.
Hell, it even started appearing in your smart fridge
You deleted and deactivated everything. Throwing away any and all sorts of electronics that could potentially be used for apps.
But you could still hear it.
Even the sound of the doorbell ringing, the kettle whistling, or your telephone ringing makes you panic. 'What if that's them?' You always think
Every creak, every shuffle, and every little sound makes you paranoid.
What if they cross over to Earth? What will you do? You can't run from them. Even if you do, they'll be able to find you easily.
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crystallizabethine · 2 years ago
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Gosh I am not looking forward to finals week...
0 notes
smallidarityfan · 5 months ago
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Theyre scheduling dates with joel guys this is a soap drama AHHSHGSSBS
[transcript]
Jimmy: I am also imagining Joel is gonna log on soon enough and die instantly—
Lizzie: Wait Joel is coming??? You want him to play Minecraft with you???
Jimmy: He's got access to come on, I just— I wish I could spend some quality time with him y'know?
Lizzie: Yeah me too! Me too man.
Jimmy: Yeah I think—
Lizzie: Watch out there's someone behind you tryna push you off a cliff
Jimmy: stop— right now
Sausage: I'M BACK I got kicked out!
Jimmy: That's alright— yeah lemme um lemme give him a message
Lizzie: Wait— Can I— How about you get him Thursdays, I'll do Tuesdays, Hermitcraft can have him... every other day of the week
Jimmy: Wait what— What day's their meeting?
Sausage: Are we talking about Joel?!
Lizzie: Yeah oh maybe Sausage could use a day too
Sausage: Oh can I have Joel too?! Can I have him on like a weird day like a Tuesday, on 4:30 in the afternoon or something...
Lizzie: Okay how about one of you gets him half of Tuesday; someone takes him on the Tuesday morning— But someone's gonna need to feed him as well...—
Jimmy: Uhh...
Sausage: Oh I'll feed him!
Lizzie: —He likes steak...
Jimmy: *laughs* he likes steak...
Sausage: You know what, I cooked a lovely Filet Mignon last night. He can have a piece
Jimmy: I don't know what that is... What is that?
Lizzie: You could probably have him 3 days he'd probably go willingly—
Jimmy: NO I'LL LEARN TO COOK FOR HIM I'LL LEARN!!!
Lizzie: *laughs* You'll learn?!
Sausage: You'll learn to cook a Filet Mignon?! You know what I do work a Sous Vide machine too!
Lizzie: OH MY GOD Stop talking Sausage you'll summon him!
Sausage: UHUH! All I have to say is Sous Vide... Medium Rare... Filet Mignon...
Lizzie: Oh you know just what to say! to steal my man!
Sausage: Hell yeah! Well I do butter basting as well, yup!
Jimmy: —I don't know what any of these words mean but annoyingly I know Joel would know? So that makes me angry...
Sausage: He would definitely know, I'm going to win all of Tuesday— Tuesday's mine, man
Jimmy: Oh gosh *laughs* "I'm gonna win all of Tuesday..."
Lizzie: Well as long as I still get to do his laundry then that's fine.
Sausage: Oh you do— I don't do laundry, you go ahead.
Lizzie: *laughs* "I don't do laundry"
(thank u for the correction i have never cooked a steak before if you couldn't tell LMAO 😭😭)
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weaselle · 9 months ago
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i am convinced that human evolution and development was centered around the basic up-grade from "i steal your resources" to "i steal your behaviors and concepts"
We got clever enough and we just started copying absolutely everything we observed just because now we could figure out how to copy concepts and things that other animals were doing
see that squirrel hoarding acorns for the winter? we can do that. okay now how do we make these acorns edible, cause they are poisonous to a number of animals and we don't do great with them either. What if you put them in the fire? or just on hot coals? what if you put them in water on hot coals and boil them? Oh if you soak them in cold water for 24 hours and maybe change the water a couple times you can totally eat them? YOINK storing acorns for winter is our idea now.
or, you ever seen a weaver bird do it's thing? if not i'll give you one guess what they do
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or how about the tailor bird that uses spider silk to stitch the edges of a big leaf together to make a nest in
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or sometimes they'll stitch a bunch of leaves into a little cup for a nest
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like i'm not trying to downplay how clever it is to be the first humans to weave or sew, and indeed, being the first person to weave that anyone knew about probably happened many times throughout human existence but my conceit is that most if not all of those times was a human seeing something in nature that was basically weaving and going "i'ma do that, and get real good at it - i'ma take that concept and really make it mine"
like it wouldn't surprise me if humans got dogs because we saw how ravens were treating wolves and went "shit yeah, great idea - YOINK that's my idea now."
most of the things that we think of as special human skill or behavior can actually be found elsewhere throughout nature -- all over there are animals using tools, farming, ranching, building, etc.
my favorite primate behavioralist anecdote is a group of people studying tool use in chimps were spending their days in the bush logging the use of twigs to catch termites, and over the campfire at night they're like "it's so boring i wish they'd do something more impressive than this completely basic tool skill."
and one of them was like "actually... how do we know its not a difficult skill? has anyone tried to use a twig to catch termites and see?" and so the next day, like good little scientists, they went out and recorded their attempts at catching termites with twigs.
And lo and behold out of the whole group and all their attempts that day, only, like, a single termite was caught by a human, mostly by chance. Suddenly the whole situation flipped - they'd been thinking of it as basic unskilled tool use, but actually the chimps knew how to do something that none of them could easily figure out on their own - or even together as a group!
y'all, they had to go back to watching the chimps do it to figure out how. Think about that. University degrees, scientific minds, educated people... and they had to be taught how by the chimps.
It turns out there's a reason that young chimps will spend like a year closely studying how an adult is fishing for termites. You gotta select the right kind of twig or leaf stem, maybe you fray the end like a paint brush depending on particulars, you gotta have just the right poking and little shaking technique to provoke the termites into biting the twig, it's a whole thing. There's even regional/cultural differences in the general approach to termite fishing that are distinct between groups that live in different areas.
Now, wild chimps have been observed using objects as tools to fashion crude spears for hunting (it's the mothers doing it by the way, and slowly some of their kids have been growing up doing it, which will probably result in refinements and developments eventually.
ants do both farming and ranching. For real. Some species of ant grow a fungus they eat AND it's a domesticated fungus, like our corn, it can't actually reproduce and survive in the wild without the ants farming it. They maintain its growing conditions and feed it leaf litter mulch, and the fungus produces some kind of ant food idk i forget the details about that. But that's farming. They are farming a domesticated mushroom, basically. And other species of ant will maintain a herd of aphids; they'll move them from grazing area to grazing area, and protect them from predators, and they "milk" them for a liquid food substance and also every now and then they straight up eat one. That's ranching.
beavers sometimes have muskrat... tenants? pets? The muskrats low key pay rent by changing out the reed bedding they all use, and they live in the beaver's lodge with them and eat some of the food. So. idk
Some Tarantulas keep frogs as pets
anyway my point is, i think the true human skill that sets us apart is our ability deconstruct and reconstruct anything we see into something that is for us. Oh, you eat that? Now WE eat that. You have the perfect teeth to drill little holes in specific tree trunks to let the sap ooze out and eat it because it's high in sugar? We don't have those teeth but we're gonna do that now and if we can't figure out a tool that's as good as your teeth at it, watch out, because we will absolutely just also steal your fuckin teeth.
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dobadoo · 11 days ago
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ WANDERER ꒱ ˎˊ˗ my sweet, tender girl..
wanderer/fem!reader
warnings ★ — NSFW. cuniculingus, fingering, gentle sex, just fluff at the end
a/n ★ — my dears, sorry in advance for my English, I wrote everything in my native language and translated. (I think it turned out too dirty..)
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1.209 words (POSSIBLE NON-CANON)
Expressing his feelings and love in words, except for calling you cute poetic nicknames, he… Doesn't really know how. Or at all. But he can take you to a "puspa" cafe or watch the sunset in the evening, but he can't express it in words. He sees your glowing eyes when you look at him. He sees how happy you are because of his presence next to him. He honestly doesn't fully understand this, but secretly he is glad that he can make you happy.
He doesn't like to remember his dark past. He knows that he managed to do something wrong, but he just doesn't want to involve you in it and doesn't understand how such a beautiful creature like you could love someone like him.
His caustic phrases can hurt you, and sometimes it gets to the point that you just leave home for an indefinite period. You know, or just hope, that he is looking for you and wants to apologize. In his indigo, cold, detached eyes, you can now read sympathy for what he said, but for some reason he does not always say it. You know his past, albeit briefly, and you understand that it is difficult for him to open up to people. You see how he tries, and you appreciate this effort. You yourself try to help him, telling him what to say in what situations.
Over time, you see the fruit of your efforts. If the Wanderer runs into someone on the street, then it is not particularly difficult for him to talk to the person. It happens that he cannot keep track of his language, and thereby offends the person.
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And so, you are standing in the night forest of Avidya (if I wrote it wrong, please tell me) you are sitting on a shabby log, while the Wanderer, with crossed arms, stands in front of you, drilling you with a heavy, piercing gaze of his indigo eyes.. And then he takes off his hat, putting it on the grass and comes closer. You look up at him and already understand.. When he behaves like this, it's a bad sign.
"I'll ask a question, and you have to answer me. And don't you dare lie, I'll understand it right away, you know."
The Wanderer looks at you, putting one gloved hand on his side.
"Pfft.. What kind of question is that?"
You answer, look at him, and probably for the first time you see such pain in his eyes. You hesitantly stood up and put your hand on his shoulder, trying to make him understand that you are nearby and he has nothing to fear. He looks coldly at your hand and reaches out to squeeze it and then.. Remove it from his shoulder with a detached look.
"Name the reason why you "fell in love" with me so much?"
The question made your mind fly out. A slight stupor for a few seconds. The puppet does not take his eyes off your agitated face and watches every change in your behavior, thereby driving you into a stupor even more. You understand that if you remain silent for at least a few more seconds, the Wanderer will draw his own conclusion.
"I don’t need any reasons to love you. If you are afraid because of your past, then you shouldn’t. You are not that person anymore. I know how you reproach yourself inside, but believe me, you shouldn’t."
"I… understand"
The Wanderer's eyes widened slightly before they became calm again. He honestly didn't expect such an answer. He can't perceive himself as an adequate and calm person. As a completely ordinary resident of Sumeru. You are the only one who believes in him. You are the only one who didn't turn away, but on the contrary came to help. You became his light in his impenetrable darkness, which illuminates the way. Your smile warms his empty soul. Gentle touches make him experience strange… but pleasant sensations in the place where the heart should be.
He decided for himself that he will become your support. He will become your protector and will not allow you to go on these errands again, from which you return with new wounds. Seeing blood on your body, like an arrow in the soul, shakes him every time he hears your cough, reminding him of the last person who "betrayed" him.. He does not stand aside. He also goes on missions with you and protects you. Sitting in the evening near some pond, he looks at you, and a smile appears on his face. He sees how tired, sweaty and dirty you are, going into this pond and splashing around there like a little child, calling the Wanderer to you. With his wind, he helps your hair dry, and at this time you weave a wreath, which soon ends up on his head.
He honestly still does not fully understand the reason for such love for himself on your part, but he is madly happy that you are near.
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18+
He does not particularly need intimacy, but when he sees you, so vulnerable, lying under him, with such tear-stained eyes from passion and desire… What are you doing to him, girl?
"I see how much you want. Why don't you ask?"
his indigo eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he leaves soft kisses on your tense groin. His doll lips were so cold on your soft, hot skin… you got goosebumps. But you didn't care, because your warmth, coming straight from your tender, loving heart, could surely warm you both.
"Mhm.. please don't tease me like that.."
You touched his dark indigo soft hair, lightly ran your fingers through his locks and pulled the fabric of his white cloak, hiding his beautiful body under a transparent black sleeveless turtleneck that fit his slender body so perfectly. And then you suddenly thought that such beauty would really ruin you one day.
"Oh my sweet, tender girl.."
The Wanderer whispered contentedly, and with a hint of teasing. As your passion grew, the Wanderer felt the last remnants of his cynical facade crumble. sweet words and your gentle caresses awakened feelings in him that he had long buried - longing, devotion, the uncertain movements of a heart slowly thawing after centuries of icy isolation.
"Are you cold, my Persephone?"
He asked tenderly, covering the inside of your thigh with cold kisses, you shook your head. You threw your head back, pressing yourself against the mossy side of the tree, where you had previously had a casual conversation.
The puppet avoided your most sensitive places, the gentle touch of his lips on your untouched skin sent electrical impulses running along your spine. You trembled, your breath hitched, as waves of new sensations rolled over you.
Encouraged by your reaction, the Wanderer's kisses became bolder, his indigo gaze staring at you with a glint of gentle mischief. The cold of his touch contrasted teasingly with the heat of your arousal, igniting the fire of your desire to new heights.
"Mhm.."
You jerked forward sharply as his gloved hands spread my legs in such a depraved manner.. You raised yourself up on your elbows, looking into his indigo eyes with a little excitement
"Sh-sh-shh.."
The Wanderer, sensing your excitement, climbed on top of you, gave you passionate kisses on the lips, you responded willingly, all fears dissipated, only desire, love and lust remained. The Wanderer covered your fragile neck with kisses and light bites, claiming your body for himself. The puppet began to worship your most intimate flesh, the Wanderer admired the exquisite tenderness of your form. Each thin fold, each responsive movement was evidence of the wondrous diversity of creation.
"That's it, now lie still, sunshine."
Riven by the desire to bring you to the heights of ecstasy, he paid attention to your sensitive clitoris, causing a stream of pleasure in you. With reverent intensity, the Wanderer's gaze remained riveted to your flushed, wet folds. Coming ever closer, he pressed gentle, teasing kisses to the swollen lips of your vulva, the Wanderer licked and sucked, listening to your melodic girlish moans.
Suddenly you were grabbed by the hips and pulled closer. You gasped in surprise, his tongue moved and circled over your clitoris, and at the same time you felt something wet pressing against you from below. You swallowed your saliva and moaned pitifully, taking two fingers inside you first. The Wanderer was amused by your reaction. He let out a light laugh, continuing to caress and please you with his tongue, painfully slowly moving his fingers.
"Don't hold back, show me what other sounds you can make from my actions. Let me go faster," - the movement of the fingers accelerated, and the Wanderer was content with the vulgar squelching sounds from below, scratches on the back and frank female moans. - "Do you like it like this? my little minx?"
You wanted to answer something caustic, but the fast pace of his puppet-like, long, thin fingers knocked you off your feet, you threw your head back, holding onto the blanket. You clenched your hands into fists, moaning quite loudly when his mouth stopped caressing you below, the Wanderer sat up, looking at you with clouded indigo eyes, he leaned on you, settling between your legs.
"Do you want me to caress you here?" - a soft whisper and an almost chaste kiss on the bridge of your nose, while his beautiful fingers rub your walls, moving faster and faster.
"just like that?(your name)?"
"Yes", - your answer is drowned in a groan, drawn out, ending in a desperate whine. And someone else's grin reaches your ears.
His fingers spread inside you like scissors, and your back bends as he bends them a little, stretching the still tight walls, his free hand falls on your miniature breast, and lightly pinches your nipple, forcing you to stay in place, urging you not to move.
A whimper escaped your lips again as the puppet's other hand began to gently rub and make circular motions on your sensitive bud. He moved down slightly to make it easier to work with you with both hands. You closed your eyes and moaned, slowly moving towards him. The Wanderer licked his lip and moved inside you at an unimaginable speed. This was enough to bring you to the abyss of orgasm.
"close.."
while you were lost in your own orgasm, you heard the Wanderer muffled moaning, even screaming, shuddering over your naked body and involuntarily scratching your reddened sides. The wanderer held onto the lower part of your body so tightly that red marks and traces remained on you, including your legs.
He carefully laid your trembling body on a mossy tree branch, and the Wanderer himself, slowly pulled out his fingers and lay down on your chest, right where the heart is, which, by the way, is beating very fast. He heard this sound for the first time, before that he could only fantasize about how a human heart beats, so he was in no hurry to get up or disturb this rare idyll for both of you.
"You so loud, it's ringing in my ears..I wonder if next time I can make you moan louder..mm?."
Puppet raised his head and slyly looked into your eyes. You understood perfectly well that you were all disheveled, red, and the puppet felt great and after a while was ready for the second round.
"And now let me lie down for a bit. Your heart is about to give away all your secrets, beauty.."
The Wanderer lightly flicked you on the nose, then laying down on your chest.
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roosterforme · 10 months ago
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The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.
When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.
"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest. 
"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled. 
"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.
"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."
"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.
"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."
You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."
"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."
"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"
"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."
"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid. 
You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him. 
"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."
He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.
"I love you too, Daddy."
You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better. 
"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut. 
-----------------------------
"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"
"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"
But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!" 
Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.
"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."
He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home. 
As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."
You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.
Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body. 
As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."
He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.
When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."
He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands. 
"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him. 
"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."
You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"
You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."
Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."
"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"
"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."
"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.
His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."
"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips. 
"I want you with me for the rest of my life."
"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.
"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."
After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.
"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."
"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."
You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."
His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look. 
"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.
"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser. 
He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.
"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later. 
"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."
--------------------------
On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go. 
"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."
"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."
You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."
One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."
"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."
"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."
"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner. 
Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."
As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"
He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."
Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.
On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.
"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."
You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.
"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."
You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"
"I'd be happy to."
But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."
You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"
He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."
You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him. 
As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.
"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.
"On the dresser, Bradley."
"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."
-------------------------
Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun. 
"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms. 
Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him. 
"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all. 
You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.
"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."
Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs. 
Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder. 
"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."
Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."
Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."
Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?" 
Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.
--------------------------
Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 46
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@wintercap89
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@chaoticassidy
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
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@desert-fern
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@local-spidey
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skrunklyshrimp · 3 months ago
Text
Succulent - Kinich
Spiderman AU, where Kinich is Spiderman and you are the Gwen Stacy.
Kinich unknowingly explores the same suspicious temple as you, saves a few Saurians, saves you a few times, confesses his love to you. The basic stuff.
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Notes: I have had major Kinich brainrot, especially with the sunflower edits of him on tiktok. So I took it upon myself to make a spiderman AU where he's spiderman! Yay! He's definitely OOC but I tried my hardest so please try to enjoy :3
(P.S. this stuff was written before he was released so this is not cannon!)
You were a simple researcher, wandering into the depths of Natlan. There was some elemental disturbance in some uncharted land underground, not wanting anyone else to get ahead of you, you embarked on your journey alone.
“Maybe I should've hired a mercenary.. Kinich would’ve been great.” you mutter. Kinich, a great mercenary, has such a cold demeanor yet he always stares at you and gives you such a warm gaze. You shake off the thoughts of your tiny crush as you slowly make your way through rough terrain. There were lava geysers all around and a hint of evil in the air, perhaps it was the abyss order.
You carried on, almost slipping into the multiple geysers all around. Thankfully you finally reached a safe point and decided to set up camp, just a simple tent and some traps in case enemies attack.
“Just a simple salad today, I have to preserve the meat for the hardest part of the adventure.” You say to no one aloud. 
You decide to mark down some observations of the cave you're in. So far you haven't come face to face with any enemies which is quite odd for an area with a highly condensed elemental energy. Perhaps someone has come before you. You mark off any important landmarks, different rocks, ancient markings. Sighing, you place your notebook down and shake your sore hand. 
“Time to sleep.” You stand up and stretch before heading into your tent for the night.
.
“Log number 18. I've still been searching for the cause of the elemental disturbance. Many enemies have appeared so I've done the reasonable thing and wiped them out. I do see a temple in the distance that radiates high elemental energy, so I will be checking that tomorrow but, right now it's time for me to rest.” Click. Kinich places down his recorder. 
“I’m not even getting paid for this gig. Why am I even doing this?” He sighs, leaning up against a nearby wall. 
See but Kinich knew exactly why, it was because of you. See Kinich had two jobs, one as a mercenary, one as a hero. He was known as Spiderman in Natlan, the way he would effortlessly swing with his grappling hook, and kill enemies of Teyvat as quickly as a black spider. He wore a mask in this identity, nobody knew who he was. Yet as he was weakened from an enemy far too strong and there he laid on the ground. You walked up, and instead of finding out who this mysterious Spiderman was, you kept his mask on, only pulling it high enough to wipe blood off his mouth. From then on he continued to have encounters with you, it always occurred whenever he got injured in battle, you were there by his side to patch up his wounds.
“I still don't even know your name.” Kinich reminisces about the moments spent together. “I'll get rid of this and protect you.” His promise fades away in the giant cave, nobody but himself to see it true. Kinich sets up a small sleeping bag, finally deciding to get some rest.
.
“New day, new adventure!” You say, trying to be optimistic. Although the truth is you could be farther from it. The elemental energy feels even more condensed than before, and there's this feeling of impending doom following suit. You quickly pack up your supplies not wanting to waste anymore time on this research trip. 
After what feels like hours, but in reality was probably no longer than 30 minutes, you see a temple in the distance. 
“This…” You stare at it from afar, shocked to even say a single word. The elemental energy that is pouring out from there is outstanding, there is definitely something suspicious going on. This is the first time in this adventure where you had second doubts, you definitely should've hired a mercenary, maybe Kinich. It's far too late for that now you decide as you begrudgingly step towards.
.
“These puzzles are definitely different from the ones we see around Natlan, right Ajaw?” Kinich looks at the strange mechanism.
“You really do suck if you can't get us through here. Wanna impress your lover researcher right? Right? Also why are you wearing that stupid mask, nobody is around.” Ajaw teases and questions the poor Kinich as he starts to get pissed.
“One I don't have a lover, two, this is for Natlan’s sake, something you must not understand, and three, I’ve gotten used to wearing it.” Kinich shoos away the now red Ajaw. “Finally figured out how it works though.” As he says that a door that was previously locked opens up.
“I see you've come to stop our plans once again traveler- ergh?!” A flame welding abyss lector pauses mid speech.
“Traveler? Do you mean the blond haired saviour going around helping people?” Kinich asks, recognizing the famous traveler.
“You're kinda totally ruining the plan I had dude.” The abyss lector says in defeat.
“What do you mean ruining the plan, huh!?” Ajaw yells, still upset about earlier.
“Well, the traveler and I were supposed to fight. After all, I totally ran away from our fight last time, heh. Just didn't wanna die you know?” The abyss lector laughs off his misfortune. “Nevermind that now I have to kill you, after all I can't have you leaking our information out and about.”
“Let's win this Kinich!” Ajaw says, trying to pump up his dear servant.
“Whatever you say I guess.” Kinich responds.
.
“These puzzles.. They're complete, someone had to have been here before.” You conclude. When you arrived at the temple you saw numerous doors open. There were many unfamiliar marks covering the temple head to toe, you only recognize a few as abyss symbols. Through careful observation you notice an odd placing brick on the wall, not wanting to inspect it with your own hands, you opt for a nearby stick. You take a deep breath in and push against the suspicious brick, allowing a secret passage downwards to open. 
“Thank god that wasn't a trap.” You breathe a sigh of relief.
After finishing writing down all the information you need about this current room you decide to explore this secret passage, it's basically just a bunch of stairs leading downwards.
.
“Shit you're one slippery guy, and what the hell is with that skill you're seriously like a spider.” The flame bearing abyss lector complains, definitely aggravated from the injuries inflicted on him.
“Yeah I tend to go by Spiderman, don't let the name wear out.” Kinich says, quickly using his skill to cover his eyes with his grapple, reducing his eyesight.
While covering the abyss lector’s eyes he uses a secondary grappling hook to start to spin himself, effectively wrapping the enemy up. 
“You damned brat! You'll pay for this!” The abyss lector yells while using his pyro skills, effectively destroying the web like wire that blocked his vision and disabled his movement.
“Too bad you weren't paying attention.” Kinich mutters, slicing his claymore against the back of the abyss lector, leading to its defeat.
“Ajaw, find anything of interest on his body, I'm going to check this machinery out.” Kinich orders Ajaw around, to which Ajaw complains but compiles.
In this room there's multiple computers showing different results, many different files of interest, and… a tube? Leading to where. Kinich is left to wonder. He takes a closer look at the tube to see a purple substance flow through it.
“Ajaw, find out where this tube leads, we'll switch jobs.” Kinich says, shoving Ajaw away from the flame abyss lector's body.
“Meh meh meh meh. Mr. Bossy-pants.” Ajaw mocks but goes right to finding where the location of the purple substance is coming from.
.
“I should've turned around.” You can't help but complain. You had been walking down these stairs for god knows how long, with barely any light, and no clue if there's enemies at the bottom.
“I'm so dead aren't I.” You cry. In the middle of you trying to accept your fate you see a brighter light. Hopeful that it's the bottom you pick up your pace only to be met face to face with, prison cells?
There were glass cells, no, chambers filled with Saurians, a purple substance being sucked out and pushed into a hole in the middle of the room. You take careful steps forward, heartbroken, shocked at the sight you're seeing. The dragon's that inhabit the lands of Natlan, being sucked dry of their elemental energy. This has to be the work of the abyss order, you conclude. You look at the seemingly bottomless pit in the middle of the room. 
“This is… despicable. How could they do this to innocent creatures?” You mutter, looking down into the pit with sadness.
“Oh? What's my number one fan doing here?” A familiar voice echoes in front of you.
“Ah, Spiderman-!?” You look up only to be met face to face with an upside down Spiderman.
“I'm not surprised you're here, but why are you here alone? You don't have a vision so this place is draining you of your energy.” A slight bit of concern covers Spiderman's voice.
“I had to explore. This cave was uncharted and I wanted to resolve this issue as soon as possible.” You answer his question, “Not to mention you're hurt yourself. When did this happen?” He just scratches the back of his head.
“Just had a fight just now I'm alright though. Had to win to see you once again.” Spiderman admits. “It looks like I'll have to have another fight though. Please stay back alright.” He says while pulling down his mask, just enough to show his mouth. He moves forwards enough to give you a light kiss against your lips. He gives you a smile before putting his mask back on and jumping right into the fight.
You stand there for a few seconds processing what just happened. Not only did the Spiderman just say he wanted to see you again, but he also just kissed you? You hear the noise of abyss mages getting hurt and remember what Spiderman told you to do, so you try to walk over to the other side, away from the fighting.
You watch in awe as the amazing Spiderman uses his webs to his advantage, dodging the attacks from abyss mages and using them to weaken the shields so he can do heavy damage with his claymore. You’re so enamored by his performance you don’t realize how close to the edge of the pit you get too.
“Finally done with these abyss mages.” Kinich mutters, turning to you only to see you dangerously close to the edge, with abyss mages behind you. “Watch out-!” Kinich tries to call out to you but it’s too late, the abyss mages push you into the pit.
Kinich is quick to react, quickly using his grappling hook to connect and grab you, which ends successfully. Only problem now? He had two electro abyss mages in front of him, his grappling hook unusable at the moment. The panic that Spiderman was going to lose his battle, and someone he holds close to his heart.
No, he thinks. He can’t let it happen again, he can’t. The few times Kinich opened his heart it was left broken, with the death of his father and now soon to be you. He can start to feel his arms weaken and-
“How did you beat me here!?” A scream comes from up top. Kinich’s eyes open in surprise, then his lips curve into a small smile.
“Ajaw, could you please get these mages out of their shields, I need to get our friend out of this pit.” He orders, no, commands Ajaw, to which he slowly complies. Ajaw begins to attack the abyss mages, holding his own as Kinich quickly pulls you up to the top, hoping you were still alive in his grappling hook. 
“It’s funny really, I don’t understand why a simple researcher like you caught my eye.” Kinich mumbles to himself seeing your body appear from the purple smoke filled pit. Admittedly Kinich was scared out of his mind when you weren’t moving, but a simple pulse check let him know that you weren’t dead, but unconscious. A huge wave of relief flooded Kinich knowing you were safe. That’s when he swiftly grabbed his claymore which he had disregarded and landed the final attack on the abyss mages.
“We’ll report this to the warriors in Natlan. They’ll free the surviving Saurians.” Ajaw suggests which Kinich agrees.
Kinich reaches up and removes his mask, his face covered with scratches, blood, and sweat. Yet even so, he smiles warmly knowing that you were safe.
.
Your head is spinning. You can’t see anything. You’re asleep. You have to just wake up. Wake up.
“Ugrh.” You groan, slowly opening your eyes to a recovery room. “Where am I?” You manage to speak out loud.
“You’re awake! I’m glad. See Kinich here found you in a temple and apparently you were all passed out, if he were later you might’ve died.” The doctor explains to you. Kinich? He found you but the only one who was at the temple with you was- oh. 
You quickly sit up surprising Kinich and the doctor who was at your side. You smile, “Thank you for the update doctor, but I need to speak with Kinich alone, if that’s alright.” You say weakly, nonetheless the doctor understands and leaves the two of you to your business.
“So, you’re Spiderman.” You state, waiting for him to deny, after all it can’t be true the the mercenary Kinich can also be the amazing Spider-
“Yeah.” He answers. Your thoughts pause, you freeze, and you just stare at him in shock.
“Why?” You ask, and he just tilts his head in confusion. “Why would you tell me your secret? I'm just a regular researcher, I don’t even have a vision.” You question, confused on why he would reveal his identity.
“It’s simple. Out of every fan I meet, you’re the only face I can remember, if I see you in a crowd I always tend to go into that direction. I may not even know your name but you show me with such care despite not knowing who I am.” Kinich confesses, a slight blush covering his cheeks.
“It’s right to be nice to everyone, even unknown identities.” You say.
“I guess you’re right, so will you humour me for a while and go on a date with me?” He asks you, looking at you with a warm gaze and a loving smile.
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tarjapearce · 1 year ago
Text
As My Own
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Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .
Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.
WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.
Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?
Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.
Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.
Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.
If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.
------
Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.
When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?
It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.
His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.
He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.
"Dinner time with Roomie~"
The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.
(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.
Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.
Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.
-----
The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.
The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.
The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.
"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."
"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"
Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.
"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.
"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"
"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."
You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.
"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"
Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.
"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"
Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.
"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.
"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"
"You're graduated?"
"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.
"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.
"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."
Jeesh
Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.
"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"
She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.
Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.
But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.
Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.
"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."
"But I can't... afford it-"
"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.
You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you
She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.
You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.
"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.
"I..."
"Sorry if I'm overstepping"
"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."
"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed
"I can't have them"
Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.
"Infertility?"
"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."
You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.
"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."
Could have been
" To me, you... you are."
Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest
"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.
"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."
Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you
"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"
"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"
But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.
Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare
"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly
"No, Gabi, cariño-"
"You can meet him this weekend!"
"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"
"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."
You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.
"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."
"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"
"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.
-----
Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.
In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.
Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"
------
3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.
Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.
Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.
"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.
"Sorry for... the late hour."
"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.
"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.
"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.
"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.
"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."
His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.
"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"
"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"
Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.
"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.
"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.
"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.
"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.
Miguel entered in spectator mode.
"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"
"Can I have it tomorrow?"
"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.
Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.
"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."
"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.
"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"
"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.
Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.
" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."
"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."
"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.
"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."
"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine
"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."
"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."
"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."
Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.
"I hope she hasn't-"
"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."
"It's the people around her that I don't trust"
"Ouch..."
"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together
"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"
You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.
"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.
"What about, today at 7 pm?"
"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.
"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)
You just laughed and put the food in the fridge
"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"
"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."
"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.
"Sleep well, Papa."
He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.
------—----
And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.
Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.
Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom
"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.
--------
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."
"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"
Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.
"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."
"That doesn't mean I can't try-"
"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked
"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.
"I think it's time to try something new."
"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face
"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."
"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."
"Ouch."
--------
Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.
To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.
It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.
Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.
"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.
Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.
And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.
"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.
"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.
"Missed you, preciosa".
What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.
He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.
Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.
He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.
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