#you gotta see the damage to know how to fix it

[sapphic-terror]

Hear me out - Sometimes a relationship is you, your boyfriend, and his friend, (the daughter of the man you hate who kinda saved your life so now you owe her and you boyfriend really does like her) (fuck it, you’ve made worse decisions) (and if you radicalize the future ruler of Crete in the process of seducing her into a poly relationship with you and your boyfriend well things could be worse)

(“Hello, Princess.” Ari fought the urge to scream, or throw herself off the nearest wall. Irony and all that.

“What do you want, Nax?”)

[fxllfaiiry]

─ callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: the aftermath of the argument with miguel.

✶ warnings: angst, hurt with comfort, occ miguel (for one scene only dw), shitty humour, one or two swear words, reader being slightly mean, mentions of death.

✶ notes: part two of "you're the sunflower" this part was originally 8k words long and i was like nope, so i had to cut it down, I'm sorry. I really hope this isn't bad ‼️

At first, you didn't quit the team. 

After the blow-up with Miguel, you thought about leaving the team for good, but yet you decided to show up, hanging around for a bit before quickly leaving. 

But slowly you stopped showing up altogether. The looks of pity were too much for you to handle, and frankly, you deserve an apology, you deserved better.

Every day was torture, and seeing Miguel only made it worse. No one thought this whole ordeal would go this far. 

Everyone noticed the changes, you were more serious, and your usual sunshine self was gone at this point. Everyone noticed the day you stopped coming in. 

You felt so lonely, sure, you had friends in your universe but yet, nothing felt the same. You sometimes wondered if they missed you or not. 

It had only been a few weeks and yet it felt like months. 

A part of you secretly hoped someone from the team would show up at your doorstep pleading for you to come back, but nothing. 

"You'll get used to it eventually" You'd tell yourself. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It had been two whole months since you left. Nothing felt the same without you. 

"Does anyone else miss Sunflower?" Gwen said sadly. She missed your hugs, and your little girl talks with her, she missed everything about you.  

"We all miss her, kid," Peter sighed. Without you, he had no one to talk to about Mayday. 

"I hope she comes back soon," Miles said. 

"I think she just wants space right now," Pavitr replied.  

"This is all Miguel's fault y'know?" Hobie added bitterly, how dare Miguel take his friend away from him. 

"Someone should talk to him, maybe if he apologizes, she'll come back." Miles was hopeful, he knew you'd come back eventually. 

"Sure, kid. As if Miguel ever listens." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Miguel on the other hand was depressed. 

He'd gotten used to your presence and it felt odd without you.

He felt horrible about yelling at you but he was scared. The thought of you dying terrified him, and his way of dealing with that wasn't the best. 

He thought about apologizing many times, but he didn't know how to. The last thing he wanted was to cause more damage. 

"You know a simple "sorry" could fix this all right?" Lyla said, breaking him out of his trance. 

"It's not that easy, Lyla." He sounded so broken to his own ears. 

"Well, you gotta try, Boss." 

"Sunflower used to call me that." 

"You're joking, right? Wow, you really are pathetic." Lyla snorted. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Dude, you're in love with her. You are absolutely smitten." 

"Lyla, that's enough-" 

"No, you love her and that's why it's bothering you so much." 

"I don't-" 

"Nah, Lyla's right, you do love her." He turned around to see Jess standing in his office. 

"Jess, not you too, and where did you come from?" Miguel groaned, he did not love you. 

"The door…? Anyways, just try to fix things, the first step is you apologizing." Jess stated matter-of-factly. 

Miguel thought about it for a minute, these last few weeks had been pure torture for him, Jess was right, the first step is apologizing.

"Fine, I'll do it first thing tomorrow, but I don't love her." 

"Sure, whatever you say, man." Jess snickered. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You got somewhat used to your new life. It was the same old plain routine every day. You tried to throw yourself into other things. Finding new hobbies, jobs, literally anything. 

But eventually, it all started to feel okay.

Things were finally starting to look good for you. 

You thought about the spider society way less and finally started living your life to the fullest. 

You were moving on. 

Crime fighting was easy today. You got to hang out with your friends and an old lady gave you a cheerio, which is something. 

You swung around the city for a bit, enjoying the view and temporary peace. 

Soon it was time for you to head back home. You climbed in through your bedroom window and quickly changed out of your suit, slipping into more comfortable clothing.  

When you went downstairs to get some food, you weren't expecting to see Miguel O'Hara sitting on your couch. 

"Holy shit, what are you doing here?" You scared him, because he jumped violently at the sound of your voice. 

"I was here t-"

"Humiliate me further? Because I thought we were done with that." You felt bad saying that, but he deserved it. 

"No, I'm here to apologize." He looked down, ashamed. 

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" You chuckled bitterly, walking past him into the kitchen. 

"Just listen to me for a second." 

"I thought I was incapable of doing that." You muttered to yourself. 

He got up and strode towards you, but he received no acknowledgment of his presence. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone; it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted so immaturely." 

"Uh-huh, it's fine. You can leave now, the door's right there." You weren't buying his ridiculous apology. Even a five-year-old could do better. 

"I understand you're mad, but please give me a chance." That was pretty much the last straw for you.

"I'm mad? You humiliated me in front of everyone! You made me feel like shit, you made me think I don't belong on the team! You're an asshole." You were screaming at him, taking out all the anger and sadness you felt in the past two months.

"I'm sorry." He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and for the second time in his life, he didn't know what to do. 

"The best you can say is I'm sorry? At least give me a proper explanation." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

"I'm in love with you." What? 

"Right, if you're here to joke around and mock me just leave okay."  You open up to him and he mocks you in return. Amazing.

"I'm being serious. I'm not mocking you or joking around, I'm in love with you. You want an explanation, so I'm giving you one." He breathed, looking at you hoping to receive some reaction. All he got was a small head tilt which he took as a sign to continue. 

"The reason I yelled at you was because I was scared. I thought you were going to die and that terrified me, I've lost everything, and I don't want to lose you too. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out. I truly am sorry, Sunflower." You froze trying to process everything, was he telling the truth? 

"Lyla and Jess helped me realize my true feelings for you." He whispered. 

When you said nothing for a few minutes he started to get scared, he was ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. 

"Can you… say something? Please?"

"I can't forgive you just yet." He would never admit to what happened next but he started sobbing. All this was too much, being vulnerable was an unknown feeling to him. 

"Woah, wait hey, don't cry. Let me-" Before you could finish your sentence he fell to his knees, arms clutching your waist like a lifeline. 

You were beyond confused, you thought this whole interaction was some sort of weird dream. Miguel O'Hara down on his knees, for you? Wow, two months ago you would've scoffed and rolled your eyes at that. 

Nonetheless, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him. 

"Miguel, honey, listen to me. Just because I'm not ready to forgive you now, doesn't mean I never will." His face was still squished against your midriff, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal, with a few sniffs here and there. 

"So, you'll come back?" Seeing him in such a state broke your heart, you were still upset with him but were willing to give him a chance. 

"Yes, I'll come back tomorrow." At that, he smiled properly for the first time in weeks. 

He stayed there for a few moments, letting you comb through his hair gently, he would cherish this brief moment forever. 

"I should get going then. The multiverse needs saving." He said hoarsely, standing up, he was slightly embarrassed by this side of him. 

"Maybe use the door this time." He lightly chuckled at your statement, the warm feeling took over him once again.

Miguel did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you, but he knew that wasn't an option right now.

Before he left he had to get one last thing off his chest.

"Could you, not tel-" 

"Tell anyone about this? Don't worry, this stays between us only." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Everyone was surprised to see you back the next day. 

The second you walked in, everyone was all over you, hugging you and filling you in on everything you missed. It felt good to be back. 

"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen whispered, hugging you tightly. 

"I'm happy to be back, Gwendy. I missed you guys so much." 

"Hey quit hogging Sunflower, it's my turn to hug her now." Miles huffed impatiently. 

"Me next!" Pavitr bounced enthusiastically. 

"Hey, not cool. I called dibs, man." Hobie groaned. 

"Hey, Sunflower, I have some new pictures of Mayday to show you." Everyone was so excited to see you again, it was chaotic, but it felt like home. They were your family. 

Miguel watched the scene from afar with a smile, he was glad everything was okay now. 

"So you fixed things up with her, huh?" Jess said, popping up behind him, once again taking him by surprise. 

"¡Ay, coño! Jess, stop doing that." 

"Sorry, not my fault you don't have a spidy sense." Jess hummed. "So, how did you get her to forgive you?" 

"I have my ways." 

"You got down on your knees and begged her, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Miguel whisper-yelled. That was supposed to be a secret. 

"I have my ways." Jess winked. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

In a few weeks, everything was back to normal, you were back to your old self again. 

Except for the fact that you and Miguel were now closer than ever. That was new. 

You were always by his side, sticking close to him and he felt comfortable around you, always relaxed in your presence. 

He wasn't sure if you forgave him just yet, but he was willing to wait for as long as you needed. 

He did small things to show you he cared, sometimes it was bringing you coffee, other times it was giving you your favorite flowers. 

You knew he was sorry, and in your heart, you forgave him a long time back. 

So, you finally decided to tell him. 

You guys were in his office having lunch, he didn't like to eat out in the cafeteria. You both would usually sit in silence enjoying each other's company. 

"Hey, Miguel." 

"Hm?" 

"I forgive you." 

He raised his eyebrows in confusion taking a moment to realise what you meant. When he finally got it, his eyes widened almost comically. 

"Oh, you do?" He was trying to hide his smile but failed horribly. 

"I forgave you a long time back, but I just… needed some time." You nodded.  

"I understand that. Thank you for giving me another chance." 

"Actually, to forgive you fully, I want one thing from you." You declared, confidently. 

"I'll do anything, Sunflower." He'd indeed do anything for you. 

"I want you to go out on a date with me." 

His brain stopped working. You were asking him out on a date. 

"Miguel? Is that a yes or no?" You grew nervous at his lack of response. Did you cross boundaries? You thought he liked you. 

"I would love to." You quickly beamed at his response, after months of waiting it was finally happening. 

"So, how about tomorrow, at 7?" You giggled. 

"Sounds perfect." He sighed, softly smiling. 

He couldn't wait for tomorrow. 

[mini-ism]

#— FLICK YOUR LIGHTER ; IGNITE MY FLAME

pairings: lighter lorenz x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

words: 2,496

synopsis: after lighter’s bike gets vandalized, he seems to find some solace in your laughter. hearing your voice ring in his ears sparks the flame of passion. a kindling is as deadly as an explosion.

warnings: sloppy makeout, biting/marking, semi-public intercourse, slight leather kink, grinding/dry humping, p in v, slight praise kink, semi-clothed, some plot, rough intercourse, unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms) 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

notes: crossposted to AO3, lighter is bae

lighter was always one to keep his cool.

effortless finesse was always his style, slick and oozing with swagger. always leather-clad, impeccable and sharp as his instinct. slightly illusive, maybe, with his style, though that tight leather didn’t lie about his physique. his sunglasses shielded him from the blaring sun of the outer ring, or maybe the scorching glare of his opponent. yet, not once did he falter, burning brighter than a star, than the flame of passion. he lived up to his name, without a doubt. never was he engulfed by it, he emerged time and time again, with ease.

it took you out of your thoughts, sitting on the edge of a wooden platform, you could hear his slight cursing, growling under his breath, “damn thugs,” and, “the fucking audacity!” piper simply grumbled tiredly in response, turning your head to witness the commotion. piper was rubbing her eyes tiredly, nodding to lighter’s fussing, the back of his hand reaching to rub the sweat from his brow.

“lighter, no reason to cuss and whine, it’s really no biggie,” she attempted to console him, to little avail. “i can fix up your paint, they didn’t cause too much damage. seems like your parts are all intact too, calm down now…”

he huffed, “i’m not upset about whatever damage this is, you’re right, it’s nothing. they have some nerve trying to ruin my bike, that’s what i’m pissed about!” lighter folded his arms, assessing the damage for the umpteenth time. he diligently cared for his bike, but lighter was never one to tolerate disrespect.

piper wheeled off the bike to her workstation, nodding off a few times as she carefully thought about how to fix his precious motorbike. he trudged away, footsteps heavy. you could hear the crunch of the dry, hot sand below him as he came close to you. for a while, he stood behind you, scarf whipping in the wind as it blew hot air in both of your faces.

“yes, lighter?” you turned to look at him, “is everything alright? i overheard what happened with your bike.”

just as soon as he heard “bike,” he scowled slightly, his sunglasses reflecting the terrain rather than mirroring his expression. “probably too chickenshit to do it right in front of me. how funny is that?” lighter’s words carried humor, but his delivery did not.

“you’re saying they’re cowards?” the glint of the sunbeam in his sunglasses told you everything you needed to know, the desert wind lashing you and him in the face. he seemed ever-so unperturbed, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more things could possibly be pissing him off? how does he remain so undisturbed by it?

“i’ll be fine, though. don’t worry too much, you’ll get wrinkles like lucy.” he tilted his head down to meet your gaze, a slight smile playing on the corners of his lips. you couldn’t help but chuckle, who knows what lucy would have done if she heard that? instinctively, he lowly chuckled too, your humor slightly infectious.

“i know, i’m funny.” lighter remarked, seeing you laugh slightly harder. you were always the first to erupt in laughter when he made a joke. “you think caesar is gonna make me do comedy next?” lighter grinned as you continued to giggle, your gleeful and unrestrained display stirring something within him. it felt a lot hotter now than it did before. it’s gotta be the sun coming up now.

“okay, okay, that’s enough now.” lighter’s voice was lighter, almost playful. if you kept giggling like this, everyone is gonna start wondering what got you so worked up. “you gotta tell me what burnice made for you this time. what the hell has she been doing to you?”

with your next eruption of laughter, lighter wrapped a strong arm around your abdomen and lifted you up, hauling you by his waist. he let out a breath and carried you further away from prying eyes. mercilessly, he dropped you, watching you catch your breath with a few heavy exhales and snorts. “you shouldn’t be laughing at a man whose had his property damaged.”

his serious tone was accompanied by a coy grin as he towered over your slumped form, “get up. come on, you are grown.” lighter waited as you got yourself up with weak muscles, that same flame flickering in his soul as you beamed at him. he cleared his throat as he flushed lightly, averting his gaze momentarily. now the moment was getting stale, not much else he could really say without taking a step backwards and making you laugh again.

“how long is it gonna take for you to get your bike back, lighter?” you said, with a slight exasperated breath, your cheeks still hurting slightly from heartily laughing. “not long, piper’s great at what she does. maybe a day, if she manages not to pass out a few times.”

you took in your surroundings, noting that you both were sandwiched between two buildings, the space between them cold and narrow. lighter might have already forgotten why you both were here, or what else he might’ve wanted to say.

lighter fixed his sunglasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. “does that leather ever get hot?”

“what? i mean, yeah, it does.” he replied blankly.

“why do you wear it then? you know it’s quite hot in the outer ring,” your eyes were glued to the way his jacket clung to his muscles, leaving nothing to be imagined, only observed. “is it cause you want to show off?” your eyes travelled back up to his, holding his steely gaze.

“i show off enough in a fight, wouldn’t you agree? are you asking me to show off for you, now?” lighter probed, folding his arms again, you watched as they flexed under the tight jacket he wore, threatening to nearly bulge out of it.

“if you wanna, i won’t complain.” seriously, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from his arms. they were huge, and that jacket did nothing but define them even more. your words came out more breathy than you wanted them to, causing him to sharply inhale and hold it. as he drew in that breath, you could see his chest puff up as his abs tightened, letting the air shakily exit.

“fuck, you’re testing me, huh?” lighter quickly looked to his left and right, where you both might be seen. there wasn’t anyone around, but he cautiously checked a few more times. before you could react, he pressed his lips to yours, grabbing your upper arms tightly. his kiss was heated and firm, as was his grip around your arm. his fingers pressed into your triceps, wrapping almost entirely around your arm, “you really want to test me? i’m sure you know this leather is hot, but what you don't know is how bad i want to take it off now.”

you could feel his breath ghost against your skin, causing you to shiver as he leaned in, “but i can’t. not yet, tonight. doesn’t mean i can’t give you what we both want.” his words made you squirm, his grip tightening as you wriggled around in arousal. he chuckled lowly, pressing closer to you. without a thought, you wrapped your arms around him, coming beneath his arms to meet on the vast expanse of his back. you could feel every heavy breath through his jacket, how the muscles over his abs and ribs moved with each desperate huff.

as he caged you between the wall and his body, lighter pressed his lips to your neck, exposing the thin, delicate flesh of your throat with a gentle raise of the jaw. you screwed your eyes shut, gripping at the tight-fit that was his jacket, whimpering softly at the sensation. lighter worked his way down, pressing kisses from your mastoid to your collarbone, nipping and sucking at the tender skin on the way down. you could feel his tongue run down the side of your throat, catching your pulse point, savoring the feeling of your rushing blood under his tongue. the sensation was enough to make you squirm and whine.

“you’re real heated now, huh?” lighter whispered against your skin, “just as needy as me.” as he spoke, you could feel the incessant press of his hard cock against you, making you squeak. he turned your head further to the side, exposing the lengthened muscle of your neck further to him. he dove in, gripping your hip tightly with his other hand, sucking onto your neck. he released it with a pop, biting the weak flesh playfully. lighter could hear the pained noise you made, fueling his lustful haze further.

lighter groaned at the sensation, feeling you move beneath him, the friction of your movements rubbing against him. “you tease, you know what you’re doing to me.” you gripped his back harder, pressing yourself into him with vigorous need. he could feel a sharp jolt on his own neck as he let go of your jaw, a playful bite marking his own neck. “fuck, you bit me? that’s petty.”

with another searing kiss, his hands snaked lower, making their way into your pants. he rubbed your clit slowly with his two digits through the fabric of your panties, causing you to moan softly into his demanding lips. lighter’s tongue demanded entrance, exploring your mouth with his, subconsciously grinding against your thigh as he tasted your lips and tongue with his own. he didn’t care much for the mess he was making, saliva dribbling onto both of your chins as his hand and hips continued to pick up the pace. you moaned again into lighter’s kiss, bucking your hips against his touch, feeling the heat build slowly between your thighs. with each stutter of your hips, his cock throbbed in his pants, feeling your thigh brush against him with little restraint.

lighter broke the intense kiss to murmur against your heated lips, “feels so good when you do that, you feel good baby?”

you nodded into his embrace, whining with each stroke of your hardened clit, the fabric separating his touch from your aching pussy — your worst frenemy. lighter pressed himself against you again, “touch me.”

you dropped your dominant hand from his back, the other hand clinging desperately as it had been. lighter grabbed your hand gently, guiding it to his hard cock, drinking in the feeling of your hand through his hands. he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, eagerly shoving it down into his boxers. he let out a fervent groan, shivering as your hand wrapped around his bare cock. “fuck yes, baby. just like that, yeah…”

he groped your chest a few times through your top, hissing with pleasure each time you stroked him. he could feel pre-cum leaking from his tip, his resolve weakening as he felt you rub his shaft with the pre oozing from his cockhead. he just couldn’t take it anymore, racing to get those pants off of you and fuck. lighter’s hand eventually got them loose, pulling them down enough, pulling one of your legs through out of your pants and underwear, letting them fall and lie around one ankle. you could feel yourself exposed, the colder air contrasting your heated core as lighter excitedly huffed. he grabbed the underside of your thigh, right above the knee, pinning it upwards to expose you enough.

responsively, you pulled his pants down enough to let his cock free, guiding the tip towards your slick entrance. “you wanna take me? tell me you do.”

“i wanna take you so bad, lighter…” you murmured, more of your efforts going towards getting him all the way inside you, buried to the hilt. he drank your response in deliciously, biting his lip with his handsome low chuckle, “i know you do.”

lighter pushed into you, your slick cunt accepting him graciously. you mewled as his cock stretched you out more with each inch, covering your mouth with his to dampen your moans. every fiber of you felt like you were being split open, yet you wanted no more than that, you wanted everything he could possibly give to you. his kiss grew deeper with each inch sunk into you, the feeling of your cunt nearly intoxicating, “knew you could do it, take it good, that’s it.”

with a ferocious first thrust, you couldn’t help but yelp loudly, followed by lighter’s harsh shushing and more kisses. he took no time to break you in, fucking you with slow, brutal thrusts, each more forceful than the last. lighter could not find it in him to care if he was shaking the walls of the building he had you against. his grip on the inner underside of your thigh tightened, his nails digging into the soft, supple flesh.

“you fuckin’ like this, yeah, bet you do,” he growled between kisses, diving back in for a particularly lewd sounding tongue kiss. lighter shoved his tongue down your throat as his other hand came up to grope your breast. his thrusts were starting to become more erratic. faster, but still merciless.

“you’re so goddamn tight, fuck, you trying to keep me in you?” he looked down at his cock, breaking eye contact with you, watching how your body bounced with each thrust. he squeezed your chest particularly hard, his thumb brushing against your nipple, relishing every noise you and your body made.

“you’re getting me close, you wanna take all of me? i’ll give you what you asked for.”

without letting you respond, he drove himself deeper inside you, more so than you previously thought he could, his lingering promise hanging in the air as your body buzzed with ecstasy, “gonna fuck you so good, you won't remember a name but mine.”

you could feel the heat pooling intensely in your gut, burning like nitro-fuel down your throat, forever ablaze as passion was. passion, this is what it is. it takes a small flame to light everything on fire. a kindling is as deadly as an explosion in the right circumstances. bright and smoldering as the fucking sun.

he was right, you can’t remember a thing but the flicker of heat inside you. you tightened around him with a sweet sounding whine, your pussy gushing around his cock, his dick hitting every spot within you. you were so close, so… so close…

a kindling is as deadly as an explosion.

you leaned into him as your orgasm washed over you, riding it out as he reached his own peak, groaning curses and dirty words into your ear. yet, you couldn’t understand a word, not a single sentence. the sweat dripped down from his brow and onto your skin as his grip tightened, then loosened. your senses were on fire, the world around you both seemed to burn away, leaving nothing but the searing throes of passion and lingering desire.

quite a match, that lighter was with you.

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ wing damage ch 3 (mv1)

Australia ends up hotter than expected when Nadine finds herself in a mess of unwanted feelings left over from her fun night in Monaco. Max isn't too confused about how he feels, he just knows he shouldn't be feeling it.

halliwell!reader x max verstappen / fc : sophia la corte

warnings/notes: I UPDATED THE PAST CHAPTERS. PLEASE READ THOSE BEFORE THIS!! holy fuck i finally got this out? yippee!! pretty chill chapter compared to the last few. mentions of alcohol,weird flirting, overprotective max

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, charles.leclerc, and 450k more...

nadinehalliwell: bring ur eldest daughter to work day (australia edition)

user1: we love and support the halliwells in this house ‼️

user2: literally redbull royalty.

gerihalliwell: My good luck charm!! Looking beautiful.

⤷ nadinehalliwell: ily mama ♥️

monanotlisa: AAAAA SEXY!!! LOVE UUUU COME BACK TO MONACO SOON ♥️‼️‼️

⤷ nadinehalliwell: if u let me drive the porsche i’ll be back asap.

⤷ monanotlisa: ur such a whore for a porsche 911

⤷ nadinehalliwell: ITS A BABY PINK PORSCHE 911 GT3 WITH WHITE INTERIORS. EVERYONES A SLUT FOR IT.

allycameragirl: OMGGG 😭 BACK ON THE TRACK BABYYY ‼️‼️ SEE YOU IN AUSTINNN!!!

⤷ thenadinehorner: CANT WAIT MY LOVE ♥️♥️♥️

Australia is hot. Blazing hot. I've decided for the next several months to spend time with my mother and sisters, travelling the world and distancing myself from the hell that is home for a bit. Even with my roommates at home with me, my apartment in Monaco doesn't feel like a home.

Ally's not home half the time, too busy being a bit shot movie producer, and Mona's got a huge job lined up. We're never home together anyways. Even though we all love each other to bits, we're all living such different lives. Maybe we should just go our own ways again.

It was nice to live together even for a bit, though.

Dipping into the garage, I pass Checo and give him a fist bump before finding Max and whack his shoulder. GP laughs softly as I dramatically drape myself across Max's back, popping my head atop his as he huffs.

"How's it going, Mad Max?" I muse, "New racing strats?"

I can hear the grin in Max's voice as he says, "Nothing I'm telling you, paddock princess."

"Paddock princess? Excuse me, do I look like George Russell?" I huff, which gets a full body laugh from GP and a decent one from Max as I pry myself off his back and come to just sit next to him like a normal person.

"What's the occasion for the dress? Just the paddock fashion?" Max looks up and down the pink sundress I'm wearing and I perk up, happily blabbing on about how I'd bought the dress in Sydney a few days before the race and wanted something to wear to the race and the part tonight.

"What party?" Max asks, leaning over to fix a hair thats gotten stubbornly stuck to my earring.

"My mom is having a yacht party tonight for all the teams to celebrate the beginning of the season. She couldn't do it in Saudi or Bahrain because of how busy we all were." I look at the notes Max is focused on reading, even though they make little sense to me. GP excuses himself to speak with Hannah, leaving Max and I alone in the little outcove of the garage.

"Ah." Max sighs as a mechanic moves past, tossing a helmet to his colleague as they set up to do some sort of extraction training. Max catches my attention as he says, "and I take it I'm set to attend this?"

"Of course you are. My mom would be devastated without her 'eldest son' there, right?" I lean over to peck a kiss on his cheek as I stand up and brush off my dress as if it'll have anything on it, "gotta run off and find my mom, I'm helping her with media."

"Good luck." Max smiles to me and I can't help the grin that finds my lips as I whisper back the same words and rush down the garage hall to hide the blush that threatens to run up my chest to my face.

There's no fucking way I'm letting this get to me. No, no, no. What Max and I had done was a mistake, and that was how it would stay. Some drunken mistake I thought about a bottle or two deep on a friday night.

I did not love Max Verstappen, and that was that.

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, monanotlisa, and 850k others...

nadinehalliwell: my photographer @ maxverstappen <3

user1: cannot get over how much she actually looks like geri.

user2: MOTHERRRR

maxverstappen: stop drinking all the champagne the party hasnt started yet !!

⤷ nadinehalliwell: no <3

user3: i swear every story post of nadine recently has been her drinking

charlesleclerc: very pink today

gerihalliwell: so so pretty!!

user4: UGH SHES SO PRETTY LET ME BE HER.

By sundown the party was in full swing. The yacht massive, even by my mothers standards, but comfortable enough to fit everyone with room for plus ones and random additions to the roster. Leaving the bar I make my way to the little longue chair area on the top deck, waving happily to some of the drivers and such who mill about up there.

As I go to snag my spot between Max and Charles again, I'm intercepted by one of the newer Sky News reporters. I peeked over his shoulder from the conversation he had left, and saw some people just casually milling about. So I felt a bit better about this random guy coming up to me.

But, from the corner of my eye, I could see Max lean forward a bit more.

"Hello, sorry, I don't think we've met." He holds out a hand with a small grin as he looks me over, "I'm Luke."

"Luke, I'm Nadine, it's nice to meet you." I shook his hand, keeping my eyes firm on his face as he then chooses to keep his eyes firm on my mine. His eyes light up, as if he's realized exactly who he's talking to and it makes me want to scream. Of course.

"Geri's daughter, correct?" He grins and I nod, biting the inside of my cheek as I curl my hand a bit tighter around the fruity little margarita I got from the bar, "Wow, it's great to meet you. I'm sorry about everything that's been happening to you within the past few months, that must be rough.."

"It's been rough but I've got a good support system here, and I'm here with my family too, so they've been very helpful." I keep up the usual wall I keep up with any reporter. I know Luke notices, at the tick of his jaw, but he doesn't say anything else.

"That's good. I'm really glad to hear they're supportive." Luke smiles, "other than doing media for Red Bull, what do you do for work?"

"Just influencer stuff. I post fashion, beauty, and lifestyle content on social media, mostly Youtube, TikTok and Instagram. I also have a podcast on Spotify." I use my usual elevator pitch, "I pay for everything using the creator fund, sponsorships, and other means of ad revenue."

"The whole -- creator fund thing, thats fascinating to me." Luke starts to talk, continuing on and on. The more he talks, the more I begin to realize that this guy just wants to blab on and on about himself. I nod, keeping my interest as he talk about reporting and doing media, and then asking if I do it too.

"I've done some sort work for Sky News before. When Seb did the beehives I was one of the reporters over there with him, which was nice because he and Mark kinda raised me a bit and I hadn't seen him in a while." I smile and Luke nods, and before he even says anything I can tell he's about to try something stupid

"Well, someone as gorgeous as you would definetely be succesful in any field." Luke grins, taking a sip of what I think is an Old Fashioned in hand before his grin falls to a smirk, "and man in charge would be an idiot to not promote a face like yours."

I don't dignify him with any answer. Taking a long sip of my drink as my eyes are level with him. I can tell he's nervous at my lack of response, but before he can talk, Luke's eyes flicker to the side of my head. He squints before a firm, warm hand is pressed to the small of my back.

"Sorry to interrupt," Max smiles placidly, his hand sliding to grip onto my hip, his fingers warm against the skin of the cutout of my dress and sending a shiver down my spine, "but Miss Halliwell here has a certain seat she needs to snag again."

"No worries." Luke gives a stiff response, before turning away with a soft goodbye over his shoulder. Max turns me and tucks me back against his chest as he leans down to ask, "You alright?"

"Yeah. He was just a weirdo." I roll my eyes as he guides my back to my seat, securing me between him and Charles once more, and I happily fall back into conversation.

Not failing to notice the fact Max's hand never leaves my back.

"Max Emilian Verstappen, I swear to god." My voice rings across the quiet hotel room, nails clicking on my cracked phone screen as I type a reply to his comment. Charles laughs softly, his hand pausing midway through fixing my hair as he looks over at my hungover state in my bed. Thanks to him and Carlos, I managed to get back from the yacht party last night with all my belongings and my dignity.

"You're getting full named." He says to Max as if he isn't actively ignoring my complaints. I watch Max peek at my tiny lump in the blankets behind him in the mirror he stands in front of, the back of his hair still drying from the shower. We had to leave for the flight back home within an hour and I was still laying in a ball, still nauseous, still tired and aching.

"Because of the reporter?" He asks, turning his head to Charles who smiles at him with a shrug.

"What was so bad about him?" I ask, "You and Charles are all up in arms about it! I don't even know what he said that was so outlandish!"

"He looked like a damn predator." Max says and if I wasn't as nauseous as I was from blacking out last night (not my proudest moment) I would've chucked a pillow at his head, "and I can't control Charles."

Charles laughs, moving from the mirror to come sit at my side, letting me pop my head onto his lap as he absentmindedly toys with my hair, before he starts braiding it back for the flight home and I groan and cuddle into his touch. Charles was basically my new brother at this point, ever since I moved to Monaco last year.

"He flirted with her infront of everyone, I don't take back my attitude about this." Max turns around, walking over and kneeling in front of me. Brushing the side of my face to feel the heat from my red cheeks, "did you even drink water, Nadi?"

"It was kinda funny!" I protest, careful not to move too much as Charles' nails run along my scalp to collect little sections of my hair, "and I did drink water, and Gatorade. I had like... four big bottles of Gatorade."

"Drink more." Max sits now, long legs folding under himself as he sighs, "before your mom kills me for letting you go out with us."

"Oh hush, you're more of her kid now than I am." I grumble out a complaint before Charles taps my shoulder so I sit up and roll to the other side so he can braid it too. Before Max can reply, the door is knocked on and I close my eyes--pretending to be asleep is easier than being hungover.

"Geri, hey!" Max calls at the door and I groan, Geri suppressing a laugh into a soft huff through her nose. Sitting me up slowly, Charles used the comforter to hide my dress that I was still in, and I curled a bit deeper into its warmth and his touch.

I would literally do anything for Charles in this moment.

"Morning, morning," my mother gives Max a tight hug, the two more mother and son now that team owner and racer. As she comes into the room, she laughs at my burrito, leaning over to peck my forehead.

"Late night?" She asks and I grunt in response. My mother shrugs her bag off one shoulder and digs in it--handing me a water bottle and a thing of Advil.

"Yes, Mama. And I love you." I say as I take the items, popping two Advil and washing it down with the entire bottle of water.

“Mhm.” Geri laughs, taking the empty bottle and tossing it as she shoves the Advil back in her bag, “and you love liquor more.”

“Mama, they had soju.”

“My daughter’s an alcoholic.” Geri huffs as he stands and Max laughs. I made grabby hands at her much like I would when I was a kid and she was my lifeline.

“Oh, she’s very hungover.” another voice calls, before someone comes running into the room and tackles me to the bed.

“Daniel!” I complain, hitting him as I writhe under his weight, “get off!”

“Stop talking to that reporter, and I’ll get off.”

“What is it with him? I’ve been seeing stuff online.” Geri pops her bags down next to Max’s, watching as Max climbs on top of Daniel—effectively putting about three hundred pounds on my already nauseated self while Charles just laughs.

“Did you see that guy yesterday?” Daniel says, whacking Max’s head, and begrudgingly both of my pseudo brothers climb off of me. But Daniel is hungover as well, I can see it in his eyes, so I let him stay on the bed while we shove Max off. Giggling when the Dutch driver unceremoniously thumps to the floor.

“The reporter was flirting with me, apparently.” I shrug, leaning forward to lay my entire body weight on Charles who grunts in response.

“Apparently? He called you gorgeous!”

“Could be a compliment.” Geri smiles, looking over at Max to gage his reaction. He looks less than pleased.

"Alright, well, come on. We have to be at the airport in like... an hour or they won't let us take off until later." Max huffs, taking Daniel's hand to help him up and then Charles. The two of them grab most of the bags and before I know it we're at the airport, me using my Airpod Max's on their soundproof mode to keep my headache at bay. Luckily it doesn't take long for us to get on Max's jet, and my mother takes me to where the bed is so I can sleep.

The little bedroom has a door to close too, so my mom sets herself up on a chair to answer her emails and shuts the door so the boys can be louder without bothering me.

Which, leaves Max, Daniel, and Charles alone towards the front of the jet. Charles stretches out, sitting on a chair next to Max as Daniel sits across from Max.

"Nadine looked sick," Max sighs, running a hand through his hair as he takes a long sip of water, "and I know turbulence gets to her stomach, so I imagine it's worse now that we're in the air."

"I'm sure she's fine, Max. Geri's in there with her." Daniel hums, looking over at the door as if reminding himself of that.

"How do you even remember turbulence gets to her?" Charles yawns, taking a sip of his own water in turn with Max. Leaning back in his chair as he watches Max.

"I just... I dunno. I remember weird shit like that." Max shrugs, looking out the window as they dip through the clouds. He looks back at his two friends, who are sharing looks, and he raises his eyebrows, "what?"

"Why did that Luke guy piss you off so much? Nadine has dealt with her fair share of sleazy reporters." Charles finally bites the bullet and asks, making Daniel raise his eyebrows in shock over the question being asked, and Max sighs.

"Do you really wanna know why that Luke guy pissed me off?" Max murmurs against the rim of his water bottle and both Charles and Daniel nod.

"Because he was flirting with her." Max shrugs softly, capping his bottle and setting it down and he leans back and stretches his back. His hands run through his hair, tugging on it, and closing his eyes as he sighs.

Daniel picks up where Charles left off, "But he flirted with a lot of girls, and it didn't bother you, but the second he set his eyes on Nadine? Why did you get so pissed off?"

"I really don't know but..." Max's voice is almost dark, "Oh, god, it was like seeing red. And he was flirting with her so boldly, in front of everyone, like he owned Nadine and it pissed me off."

"And you still think you don't like her?" Charles groans, kicking Max under the table, "you're so dense."

"I can't like her, you guys know how it is. Geri would fucking kill me, that's her daughter." Max complains and when Charles and Daniel raise their eyebrows he groans and slumps back, "okay, alright, fine. Maybe."

"Maybe?!" Daniel exclaims, getting hushed by the other two. And as Charles carries on the teasing, Max can't do anything more than gnaw on the inside of his cheek and try to swallow his smile.

He's in love with you, and that is that.

taglist (thank you, and I know this taglist is old, so if you'd like to be removed you can send me a message or an ask!)

@itsponybeaches @awritingtree @1655clean @biitch-with-wifi @heesungthel0ml @newlifeforus @rosegasly @sideboobrry11 @formulaal @justalittlejess

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑔𝑒𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝓊 ౨ৎ

miya osamu x reader. 0.7k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!osamuﾉ reader is referred to as mom ﾉ repost!

a/n: father's day drabbled #3! kuroo's version and atsumu's version are available to read :3 suna tomorrow!

“dad, odie got mr. stuffins.” at the voice, osamu looks down beside him as he turns off the faucet to the kitchen sink. your daughter stands with her hands held out, her favorite stuffed animal nearly in tatters. the fabric is torn open by the threads, exposing the fluffy stuffing. and the offender is nowhere to be found.

“oh no. how about i hold onto him until mom gets home to patch him up?” osamu leans down to her level after drying off his hands.

“nuh-uh. he needs surgery right away!” the girl thrusts the damaged bear into his chest.

“i know, baby. i just don’t want to ruin your toy.” well, ruin it beyond its already ruined state. despite the stuffed bear already being torn apart, osamu’s sure that if he gets his hands on it, it might just end up looking worse. it’s more than likely that your daughter is already harboring ill feelings for the poor family dog and osamu doesn’t want to be next.

“daaad, you gotta fix him now. please?” she sticks out her bottom lip in a pout, fat tears pooling in her dark eyes. osamu swears he can hear a little sniffle.

how can he say no to that face?

“okay, okay. i’ll see what i can do.”

maybe it wasn’t the best idea for osamu to offer his services so hastily. even after several youtube tutorials, he still isn’t completely confident in his abilities to mend the broken. before now, he’s never had any reason to learn to sew. to make things worse, a whole piece of the fuzzy material is nowhere to be found. at this rate, even if the tutorials were of any help, he still wouldn’t be able to sew mr. stuffins back together.

but he’ll make this work—for her.

that’s how osamu ends up cutting up an old pair of his pajama pants to stitch your daughter’s beloved toy back together. it takes longer than he imagined it would to fit all the stuffing back into the bear and he poked himself with the needle more times than he could count, but, eventually, the task is done. the plushie is in considerably better shape than when it was brought to him, but it’s far from the bear your daughter knew.

after building up the courage to present the new and somewhat improved teddy to your daughter, osamu makes his way back into the living room where the girl sits coloring at the coffee table. upon hearing her father’s footsteps, the girl drops her crayons and runs to his feet. she looks up to him with expectant eyes.

“dad tried his best, but mr. stuffins looks really different,” osamu admits. it probably won’t be much help—the warning, that is, but he wants to prepare her for the very unfamiliar version of her old friend.

she bounces on the balls of her feet, excited for the fated reunion.

“if you don’t like it, i’ll buy you a new one.” he finally pulls the bear from behind his back, presenting it to the little girl. she quickly grabs it, eyes silently taking in all of the changes to her toy. osamu waits for a reaction. he never thought he’d be one to seek his kid’s approval, but today seems to be full of surprises. this moment is more nerve-wracking than any volleyball game he’d played in high school.

“so…” osamu starts, not able to wait any longer. he’s feeling just as impatient as her now. “how’d i do?”

“mr. stuffins is wearing your clothes,” she giggles, running her little fingers over the recognizable flannel patch. the tiny smile on her face and the absence of disappointed cries must be a sign that he’d done something right, but osamu wants to know for sure.

“you like it, then?”

“mhm, i can’t wait to show mom!” she hurries back to her place at the coffee table, surely excited to update mr. stuffins on everything he missed while he was undergoing his operation. thinking better, she stops in her tracks. the girl turns on her heel to make her way back to osamu. she wraps her arms around his leg in a hug, the bear trapped between her body and osamu’s limb. 

“thank you, dad!”

he sets a hand on the top of her head, ruffling the strands of hair. “you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[chvoswxtch]

WHOOOO 4K CONGRATS MY LOVE!!!

I gotta good one for ya ;)

For Frankie I would like an americano on ice with the lyric “A place that is so pure, so dirty and raw.” From PILLOWTALK by Zayne<3

Maybe Frank had a really bad case, one where Frank is just beaten, battered, tired and he’s just desperate for the reader when he gets home.

So basically desperate needy sex with Frank 😩

THANK YOU MY DARLING

now you know I got carried away with this one, but I know that you don't mind one bit

please enjoy our favorite soft bad boy getting exactly what he deserves <3

as a reminder over ice means it's spicy! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

order for frank with a shot of pillowtalk (over ice)

a place that is so pure / so dirty and raw

There wasn’t a single part of Frank’s body that didn’t hurt. He’d taken a lot more damage than he promised you he would, and you didn’t have to voice your frustration with him. He could see it in the pinch between your brows and the purse of your lips while you focused solely on tending to the cut on his cheek. But that didn’t stop his large hands from wandering along your bare thighs as you stood between his spread ones, even when you pushed his hands away.

“Frank-”

“C’mon baby, haven’t seen ya in a week.”

“You are actively bleeding all over our kitchen-”

“And you look damn good in my shirt.”

Rolling your eyes, you gently smacked his hand away from grabbing at your ass and continued to tend to the wound on his cheek.

“I am trying to fix you up-”

“I know a better way you can do that.”

Frank was relentless when he wanted something. You knew that. You’d always known that. While you were trying to take care of his injuries, he was pushing the shirt of his you were wearing up to your hips, kissing along your neck hungrily. Despite how much you ached for him, you forced him to sit still until you were finished and stubbornly insisted on him taking something for the pain. In his desperation, Frank complied with all of your demands.

Which is how he ended up getting his way, laying back on the bed while you writhed above him, riding him at a slow and sensual pace. The affliction he felt in his battered body was nonexistent to him compared to how good it felt having your tight and warm velvety walls wrapped around his cock. His large hands kneaded your soft thighs and gripped your hips, staring up at you in complete marvel. When he tried to thrust up into you in search of more, you gently placed your hand on his chest and shook your head.

“What did I say?”

Your one condition for giving into Frank was that he wasn’t allowed to move. He was supposed to lay there and let you take care of him.

“Please, baby.”

“What do you need Frankie?”

“More. C’mon, ride me a little faster.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you-”

“You ain’t gonna hurt me, baby. You’re makin’ me feel good…so fuckin’ good. Please sweetheart…just…gimme a little more, yeah? C’mon baby, please?”

It was hard to deny Frank in general, but especially like this. Even though he was all banged up, covered in various wounds and bruises, he looked so fucking good like this, lying beneath you, begging. If the world only knew how you brought the fearsome Punisher to his knees and made him pray to you.

You were careful to avoid touching any part of him you patched up, instead reaching for his large hands that were digging into your hips. Interlacing your fingers together, you pinned your joined hands to the mattress above Frank’s head, leaning over him to stare deeply into his eyes while you began to rock your hips faster.

“This what you wanted, Frankie?”

Frank squeezed your hands tightly, but not enough to hurt you. He completely gave into you and the pleasure you brought him. 

“Fuck…that’s it…that’s it baby…don’t stop…please don’t fuckin’ stop.”

“You wanna come, baby? That what you need?”

Frank could hardly think straight with how tight and wet your pussy was, and how fucking incredible it felt when you rode him faster, taking every inch of him so goddamn deeply while whispering in his ear like a sultry siren.

“God baby…yeah…yeah it is. Please…please sweetheart…make me come…please.”

It didn’t take much longer for Frank to fall apart, and you were right there behind him. Once you both calmed down, he had the biggest sated grin on his lips, and you shook your head while laughing.

“Feeling better, hm?”

“Much. You’re a hell of a nurse, sweetheart.”

[cherryrainn]

hello! i've noticed you've started writing for slashers now. can i pleaaaaseee get a chucky (show) x depressed/suicidal reader? like they come back from school and have a little breakdown and chucky does something about it cuz he has a soft spot for them?

STRIVE .

; pairing ; chucky x reader (platonic)

; note ; i love this little guy so much thank you for your ask aaa

; warnings ; implied/mentions of self-harm, self harm scars, depression, suicidal thoughts

the door slammed shut as you stumbled into your room, backpack dropping to the floor. the weight of the day pressed down on your shoulders, and the room felt like a suffocating mess. you kicked off your shoes, barely registering the mess around you.

little did you remember the small doll on your shelf, his tiny eyes watching your every move. he had an unusual soft spot for you.

your hands shook as you tried to pull yourself together, but the room seemed to spin with chaos. clothes were scattered, and the once-organized desk was now a disaster zone. your vision blurred with unshed tears, and in a moment of desperation, you swiped everything off the desk.

thunk.

a small sound caught your attention, and you looked down to see chucky lying on the floor, separated from his usual perch. his eyes seemed to convey a mix of concern and annoyance.

"aw, come on, kid. watch where you're throwin' stuff," he grumbled, picking himself up from the floor.

you blinked, recognizing the doll but not fully comprehending the situation. "chucky? what are you doing here?"

he rolled his eyes, a hint of impatience in his tiny features. "been keepin' an eye on you, remember? you look like you're having a.. rough day."

you sighed, running a hand through your disheveled hair. "it's more than a rough day. everything just feels... bad."

as you spoke, chucky's sharp eyes took in the state of your room, the disarray reflecting the chaos within you. when you absentmindedly reached for something, a small glint of metal catching the light, he noticed the blade in your hand.

"whoa, whoa, whoa! what do you think you're doing?" chucky's tone shifted from annoyance to genuine concern.

your gaze dropped to the blade, and a shaky breath escaped your lips. "i don't know. everything just hurts."

he huffed, shaking his tiny head. "you gotta cut that shit out." he realizes what he says and shakes his head "there's better ways to deal with this stuff. trust me."

without waiting for your response, chucky jumped onto the bed, grabbing a tissue box from the nightstand. he began tidying up the room, muttering to himself about how a clean space might help clear your head.

you watched in a mix of confusion and gratitude as chucky worked, helping you without a hint of his usual murderous intent. the doll's actions spoke louder than his words ever could, and slowly, the weight on your chest began to ease.

when the room was somewhat orderly, chucky hopped back onto the bed, giving you a small nod. "alright. let's see the damage you did to yourself," he said, his tone stern.

you hesitated, feeling a strange mix of shame and vulnerability. slowly, you revealed the self-inflicted wounds on your arms. the harsh reality of your actions was laid bare for chucky to see.

chucky's features turned grim as you revealed the scars and wounds that marred your skin.

"damn it. look at what you're doin' to yourself," chucky growled, a flicker of anger in his tiny eyes. "you think this is gonna solve anything?"

his words stung, but there was an odd sincerity in the way he spoke. you could tell he wasn't one for empty platitudes or gentle reassurances; he dealt in harsh realities.

"hurtin' yourself ain't gonna fix a damn thing. you're just addin' more pain."

you bit your lip, fighting back tears as the weight of chucky's honesty settled in the room.

"i know it's messed up, chucky," you admitted, your voice a whisper. "but what else am i supposed to do? talking to people doesn't help. it never does."

chucky sighed, his tiny features scowling. "yeah, talkin' ain't usually the answer. but this?" he gestured to your scars. "this sure as shit ain't either."

the small doll hopped off the bed, pacing the room as he continued, "you gotta find somethin' else, somethin' that makes you feel alive, even if it's just for a damn minute. for me, it's killin' people. it's what makes me feel alive, it's not about fixin' everything; it's about findin' somethin' worth hangin' on for."

"i get that,," you mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. "but it's hard."

he shot you a stern look, his tiny hands planted firmly on his hips. "life's a damn tough ride, kid. but you're tougher."

you stayed silent, looking down.

"come on," chucky said, suddenly shifting gears. "let's get you something to distract that fucked-up brain of yours. ever tried playing video games?"

you blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in tone. "video games? really, chucky?"

he nodded, a sly grin crossing his plastic face. "trust me, it beats the hell out of scarin' yourself."

[marcusakito]

Boothill x Mechanic!Reader

I was inspired by a post from @buggytales so please show them some love for this amazing idea!

CW: I feel like Boothill is OOC and has my own hcs mixed in since it's written before his release, but that's about it.

Names Used: Darlin', Sweetheart

For as long as Boothill can remember, he's been the rootin' tootin' cyborg cowboy of the galaxy. The gunslinging galaxy ranger, fighting evil and bringing justice. His mechanical augmentations were a byproduct of his lifestyle, starting off with just an arm, then a leg, or perhaps a part of his chest? It was a blur now, because before he knew it, he was less human than machine. But that never really bothered him, not when he's got the best mechanic this side of the galaxy; you.

You weren't his first mechanic by any means, but you certainly were the first he trusted with all his being. Your shop was small, hidden away in a busy market district of your home planet. It wasn't famous, nor was it busy at any given day, so it always made you wonder what got Boothill to visit your shop. Some would call it fate, or maybe it was mere chance that he stumbled into the store needing urgent repairs. Nevertheless, since that faithful day, he's been your loyal customer ever since. Whether it be a phone call from you asking how he's been, a routine maintenance to make sure his systems are in working order, or repairs from a battle, he was happy hearing you, seeing you, he loved everything about you.

His heart may now be a machine, having a steady, rhythmic beat. But he swears it beats faster when he's close to you.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

"Welcome!" You greet, looking up from your desk behind the counter. A smile forms on your lips once you see it's Boothill. He returns your bright smile with his own as he leans on the countertop. "It's not your maintenance day, so do you need anything repaired?" You ask as you eye him up and down for any visible damages, to which there were none.

"My handgun ain't workin', was hopin' you'd take a look at it."

"You can place it on my table-Oh!" You couldn't help but giggle when Boothill placed his left arm on your desk, his body halfway over the counter.

"What? Ya said to place it on your desk!" He laughed along with you, his heart skipping a beat when he heard your laugh. He's heard it countless times, but it always made his day to hear it.

"Come around here and let me take a look." Boothill nodded and circled around the counter, sitting next to you on the spare stool. You gently took his left arm, using a tool to inspect it further. "It seems the cylinder isn't revolving like it's supposed too... Don't worry, it's an easy fix!" You smiled reassuringly, carefully dismantling the arm and repairing it. "This has been broken for a while now, weren't their any repair shops on the planet you were on?"

"There's plenty, but none of 'em were as good as you."

"If you say so." You playfully rolled your eyes as you continued the repair. That is until a question caught you off guard.

"Why you always so gentle, darlin'?" The cyborg couldn't help but ask as you work. "Am I more fragile than I'm thinkin'?"

"No, no, I'm just... worried I might hurt you, that's all." At this, Boothill laughed heartily, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye out of habit.

"You ain't gonna hurt me darlin'! I trust you, more than any mechanic in the galaxy." Your cheeks flushed red and you avert your gaze, opting to stare at the floor. "Aww what's that look for? It's only the truth."

Taking a deep breath, you look up at him. "T-That's really sweet of you, but why me? I don't think I'm the best, you know." Boothill gave a dismissive wave and took your hand in his.

"You don't gotta be the best, you've taken care of me plenty! I'm trustin' you with all of me, sweetheart, don't ya forget it." He winked and you felt your heart pounding in your chest as your face reddens.

"Thank you..." You take deep breaths and calm your emotions.

"I should be thankin' you." He let go of your hands, allowing you to finish your repair work. A soft smile on your face as you work, he was mesmerized watching you. He couldn't take his eyes off of you for even a moment. Before he knew it, you were already done. Which sadly meant it was time for him to go again.

Aeons did he hate leaving your side, even if he came back in a few months for a check-up or a repair within weeks.

But that's why he cherishes every moment he's got with you working on him. Perhaps one day, when he's not so busy, he'll take you out for a date or two.

"Before you go, I have an idea I have for a new augmentation!" You pulled out a few blueprints from under your desk and showed it to the cowboy. Boothill snorted and tried to contain his laughter.

"Butt lasers? Darlin' I don't think I'm gonna have use for that."

"What? But think about it, what if your arms and legs malfunction and you can't move?"

"What makes ya think anyone's gonna defeat me and I ain't able to kick and shoot 'em?"

"Well, um... It's just a precaution, that's all." Boothill stood up and took your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"Don't worry too much darlin'. I ain't gettin' roughed up all that much, wouldn't want ya to worry." He thought for a moment. "But if it makes ya happy, feel free to add it next time I visit. Some extra firepower will do me good, even when I got three guns." He slapped the gun on his waist and flexed his metal arms, causing you to giggle.

"Okay then. I'll see you around, space cowboy." With a tip of his hat, Boothill headed out of your store.

"See ya, darlin'."

[stardust-poet]

Leo valdez x Apollo!reader

Pt2

°•~《☆》~•°

A/n: wrote this fic out of nowhere. Definitely didnt start out as a percy fic... let me know if you want a part 2!

Warnings: slight cussing, kinda gore stuff but honestly nothing :)

Enjoy!

°•~《☆》~•°

"Again?" You groan as you see Leo stumble through the infirmary door, bloody, bruised, and a shit eating grin on his face, for the seventh time this week.

It's Friday, capture the flag. The infirmary was busier than ever, so Leo showing up (again) was more of an annoyance than a flattering gesture as per usual. You didn't have time for his sassy-sarcastic-filled conversations.

His grin somehow grows wider when he hears your voice, your tone more annoyed each time he walked into the infirmary. it seemed impossible how he could grin like that when he was probably in a hell of a lot of pain.

You checked over the damages. Black eye, minor scratches on his palms, clutching his own stomach, and bruises everywhere. He was probably bleeding under his shirt, too.

It crossed your mind that maybe that was done on purpose, so you had to take his shirt off. You quickly shook off the thought. It was probably not true and just something you made up, right? Right?

"Yeah... yeah, hi." Leo mumbled, the pain evident in his voice. You scoff and look around for one of your siblings to take Leo off your hands. You already had so many patients on your plate. You couldn't deal with Leo right now.

"I'll get Will to fix you up, Leo. I don't have time -" You started to say before:

"No! No... p-please?" Leo whined, vulnerability laced within his tone of voice.

You frowned, a little confused but not giving in.

"Leo Valdez, I don't have time to deal with this--with you right now. There's too much to do, and we're running low on supplies and-and." You cut your rant off with a heavy sigh.

"No," You said.

"Please, y/n? I'm... I'm hurt." Leo pouts, though he sounded serious for once

You groan and grab his wrist, triggering a wince out of him. Gods, he was bruised everywhere.

You lead Leo into an empty room, practically shove him on the infirmary bed, and lock the door.

Leo chuckled and winced, but there was no sarcastic comment on how you dragged him here. This was the most concerning thing of all.

You turn to face him, seeing a grimace on his face though he tried (and failed) to keep a nonchalant expression.

"Rate your pain 1-10." You mumble to him, almost in annoyance.

"0 out of ... out of ten. Wouldn't...Wouldn't recommend."

"Okay, repeating words but keeping a sarcastic attitude. I'll put that at a 9..."

You take Leos arm and inspect the damage. Not much, a few minor scratches, and one bigger scratch, but nothing major. You checked his other arm to find mostly the same things.

"You better be thankful for this, I have so much to deal with right now, and you aren't helping." You said to Leo while rolling up his shirt sleeve to see his left shoulder.

"Yeah, well, gotta see....see, my favorite doctor." Leo beamed, though he stumbled over words. You frowned.

"Where's it hurt most?" You asked gently after seeing nothing major that would cause his stumbling.

Leo pointed to his lower torso.

Shit.

You grimace. This might be a worse injury then you thought.

"Take ... take off your shirt." You tell him, looking away for just a second. Shitshitshi-

Leo grins like the devil and says: "Well, jeez, y/n. Take me out to dinner first." Before slowly removing his shirt, peeling it away from a nasty cut with a wince.

When Leo finally got his shirt over his head, you saw just how many scars he had. Not ones that were fresh and still bleeding, but ones that were months, years old.

Of course, you have scars of your own, but with how many healed scars Leo had... it couldn't be good in any way.

"...damaged goods, I know." Leo chuckled half heartedly. It shattered your heart into a billion different pieces.

"No," you whispered while rummaging through drawers for supplies. The actual bleeding cut on his left lower torso was pretty damn bad.

"You're not damaged goods, leo."

- You grabbed bandages -

"and even if you were, that wouldn't change the way people see you. You -" You cut yourself off, not sure why you were going on this big rant trying to convince Leo he was worth something to someone - to everyone.

It was the truth, but why did you care for the obnoxious, flirty, son of hephestus?

°•~《☆》~•°

Yay I'm finally done. Part 2 anyone?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: writing this out, let me know if you want smut.

Rocky never imagined that he could have landed someone as perfected as you. He often found himself wondering why you even wanted someone like him, but you did. You picked him out of every other guy in the city!

Him! He was ecstatic, you made him so happy.

You never thought you could fall for someone like Rocky, you knew most people couldn't stand him due to his zany personality, how he was immature and reckless. But they never saw the sweet and caring side that you did.

They didn't know that he would often bring you home flowers, know matter if someday's they come home damaged or if he came home hurt. They didn't know how he'd often play the violin for you when you were feeling down or would do anything to make you laugh.

Or just how protective he was.

You never thought about going through your heat would be this hard, sure Rocky had helped you with your little issue earlier but you wanted him now. He was rather adorable with his violin.

Shifting your body, you did your best to get comfortable as you watched. You would enjoy watching your lover play if it weren't for all the assholes hitting on you.

"Hey beautiful...need a little help to fix your issue...We don't gotta go far. I can make you feel go" he purred at you.

That was one of the few things you heard most of the night, Viktor did his best to keep them away but you knew he could only do so much.Gritting your teeth, you were about to make your way towards Rocky only to find him standing behind the Tom harassing you.

"Heya friend! I couldn't help but notice you were harassin my girl." Rocky gave him a wide grin as he wrapped his arm around his neck nearly choking him. The grin his fell from his face, his gaze narrowing. "That shit pisses me off." He whispered in a dangerous voice.

You never thought that you'd see Rocky so serious and part of you couldn't help but feel turned on by that little fact.

Letting out another laugh, Rocky squeezed him tightly then went to fix his tie leaning in so only the tom cat could hear him. "Harass her again, or even come near her...police will be picking parts of your body out of the dump."

Biting back a snort, you smiled watching him scramble out of Lackadaisy. "I'm not sure how Mitzi would feel about you threatening to murder her customers."

Stepping behind you, Rocky smiled brightly as he rested his head on your shoulder holding you close to his chest. "She'll be fine....you smell good."

Sighing, you glanced back at him grabbing a hold of his chin. "Let's go home alright."

"Yes! Ma'ma!"

[random-gamer1942]

(1/7) The train that was

Trainwreck Graveyard

(2/7) Ready to go

The train started coming to a halt about a minute after the explosion

Why do these things have to be so loud, the sheriff thought, ears still ringing. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, before attempting to stand up

Her legs were a bit shaky, but she couldn't care less with the situation at hand. Once the train had fully stopped, she stepped onto the ground through the missing back of the cabin and looked off into the distance

Broken pieces of metal were scattered everywhere, and the rails had been damaged. The last 2 cabins had been disconnected and derailed where the explosion happened a good 70-80 yards back, and was currently on it's side

Thankfully she didn't see anyone in there. The train station only let you walk directly into the first three cabins and this was a less busy time of week, but this could've been bad

As she started walking to investigate the site, someone approuched from the train. She looked back and saw a man that looked annoyed - and what she very easily recognized as a concealed sawed-off shotgun in his coat

With a smooth motion she pulled both her revolvers. "I know a thug when I see one, who the hell are you?"

He flinched, but didn't do anything. Instead, he said "The 2 that rode off don't count then? Besides, not everything revolves around you, big-shot. I gotta find those outlaws before I lose this gig."

"Gi-? Ah, hired protection. Say, you talk big for someone who should've prevented this in the first place."

"Whatever, just let me do my job", he said, walking towards the disconnected cabins to investigate, with the sheriff following suit

After a few minutes of looking around they discovered 2 things: 1) tracks, clearly from horses, and 2) a monocle, but from one of those outlaws. It seems there had been someone in the cabin after all, though there was no trace of them...

The man turned to the sheriff. "Well, good luck with writing a report or whatever, I'm off", as he started following the tracks.

"Hold your horses, cowboy. No way are you going after them by yourself, can't have another missing person on my conscience."

"I don't plan on going missing Ms. Big-shot. But fine, come along if you have to."

"Stop calling me that, my name's Ashlyn."

"No thanks, I'm fine with Big-shot. But for the sake of pleasantries, I'm Tyler."

She sighed. She didn't like working with others, especially knuckleheads like him. But she had this strange feeling she was gonna need all the help she could get. And right as she thought that, someone else came running up

"An adventure!? I'm coming along!", said the woman, who looked very excited. And kind of like the knucklehead too, the sheriff thought

"No way Tay, too dangerous. Besides, shouldn't you stay behind to fix the train?"

"C'mon Ty, not even I could fix this by myself. The conductor has already sent for help from a few other mechanics, they won't even notice I'm gone."

"But-"

"Besides, mom said we should always stick together. I'm going."

"Fine. But is the luggage really necessary", he asked, gesturing at the large backpack she had with her

"You never know what you'll need, and you always take too little with you. And I'm carrying it myself, so stop complaining", she snapped back

He sighed, defeated. Siblings, good to know, Ash noted. And soon, they were ready to set off

...

Aiden sat on the back of his cousin's horse, looking at the sunset. "Say Stache, why in tarnation did we take that softie again?"

The man on the horse next to him with a large moustache looked increasingly annoyed from being asked the same question for the who-knows-how-oftenth time. "Smiles, I swear to the lord in the heavens above, if you ask me that question again I'll throw this shrimp on your guys' horse."

"It don't make no sense to me though..."

"For the LAST time, he's important leverage for the possible skirmishes next week."

"But why'd they give two shit bout 'im? 'Leverage' didn't work last time."

"That's because you're the only person on this darned earth insane enough to enjoy being kidnapped by criminals, and whose parents would for some reason be okay with you wanting to stay?"

"I mean, it do be excitin', don't it?"

"Just shut up, you're givin' me another headache. Besides, we're here."

He pointed to a cave about 300 yards away, with dim orange light coming out of it. After riding for a few more moments the 4 horses came to a stop. The cousins, the man with a moustache, and 3 others stepped off their horses

The man who rode in front grabbed a weird object from his horse and gave the reins to one of the other outlaws

"Cwrwfwll wwth thwt", the kid on the back of Stache's horse mumbled through the cloth in his mouth, but noone paid him any mind

"Scars, Salted, tie them horses down. Stache, grab that kid and come with me. Same for y'all, Smiles, Silent."

Some 'yes sir's and 'alrighty's were said and Ben nodded. Stache threw the young 20-something with light brown hair over his shoulder and, together with the cousins, started following the boss

Inside, they saw a handful of others sitting around a campfire. The group, including them, consisted of about a dozen outlaws, ranging from about 16 to 40 years old

A few of them greeted the boss and the three others as they came walking in. A bit later, the last to also came to join them

"Alrighty, seems everyone's here. I think we're almost ready boys. A few more days and our names will be known throughout the country", the leader said, lighting a cigar. "A few more days..."

(3/7): in progress

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

i watched spto and i'm down bad for matthew patel now so uh- can i request platonic matthew patel x reader where reader works at gman media and they become friends with him after he realizes just how out of his depth running the place and just like breaks down to the nearest person that he has no idea what he's doing?

Oufh I gotta admit the same thing-

......

Being a custodian at G-Man Media certainly wasn't the job you hoped for, but at least it was a job that paid well...better than anything McDonalds could have provided.

And of course, that's only because it used to be run by gazillionaire Gideon Graves.

Yes. Used to.

There was a huge change in management that literally happened overnight--as your boss was defeated in battle by Matthew Patel, and he became the CEO of pretty much everything the former had.

The two record labels, fourteen animal shelters, movie studio, etc. etc. were now all his for the taking.

Never in a million years would you imagine that this theater-obsessed punk who was Ramona's first evil ex-boyfriend would be able to overthrow the G-Man himself.....and yet he won.

Of course, the aforementioned battle they had resulted in some serious damages and a lot of repairs having to be done in several rooms and floors. But if anything you were just relieved Matthew chose to disband the League of Evil Exes. You didn't have to clean up all their messes or fix anything Luke, Todd, or the twins' robot might have broken.

Even better was that Gideon wasn't around to nitpick at every little thing anymore.

That was a huge upside for you.

On the downside, however...your new boss was somehow both better and worse than him.

Matthew was thrown into such a tough role so quickly, and while he seemingly had everything under control with his demon hipster chicks becoming his agents.....sometimes he just looked lost.

Sure, he seemed to like shouting out orders and getting escorts in fancy helicopters, but when it came down to actual business stuff, he kept asking his employees about different things--even painfully obvious things.

You've never talked to him much even before this, although you usually keep to yourself and don't really speak unless spoken to. But you can tell he's struggling to maintain his image.

Still, you don't wanna say anything that might anger him or get you fired.

And besides, he had mystical powers that were ten times cooler than anything Gideon ever had, so pissing him off would be most unwise.

.......

It's late in the evening when you're heading to your final stop before getting to go home: Matthew's office.

He didn't say anything in particular had to be repaired, although you figured there was no harm in double-checking things. For all you know, the TV's wiring might need to be fixed or a screw in the table might've come loose.

Hopefully he didn't mind. You're usually in and out of there by the time he returns from whatever business trip he attended.

Yet upon entering his office, you stood in your tracks upon seeing that he was there, sitting all alone....apparently brooding and monologuing to himself. You were used to seeing him doing that sort of thing.

But this time something seemed...off.

Even his demon agents were concerned and looked grateful you showed up, immediately stepping aside so you could walk in further, hearing his mumbling become more coherent.

"What am I doing with my life? This isn't what I went to college for..."

"Mr. Patel, sir?" You called out cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"....no, actually. Everything is NOT okay!" Slamming his hands onto the table, he stared up at you from across the table, taking a moment to identify you. You could see how exhausted and bloodshot his eyes were, along with his eyeliner looking more smudged. "You're the custodian, right...[y/n], was it?"

You blinked, surprised he remembered your name. "Correct. I was just-"

"Look, [y/n]..I've been feeling really awful lately and I just need to....get some stuff off my chest. And since you're the only one here right now, you get to listen to me." He then pointed to a chair near him. "Sit, and don't you dare tell anyone what we've discussed, capiche?"

Even though the clock was ticking close to the time you went home, concern over your boss' mental stability took priority over everything else at that moment. So you listened to his demand and took a seat, remaining silent and patient.

As Matthew slumped back into his chair, his whole expression shifted into one of sadness, as though he just lost his best friend. "I'm....not cut out for this job..." He confessed. "This isn't what I envisioned myself doing."

"I imagine it's been difficult. But for the record, you've only been doing this for-"

"I've already lost this company billions of dollars."

You blinked. "Billions, sir?"

"Yes, billions! You know, I-I only defeated Gideon Graves in battle because he would have taken my life if he won. And for a while it felt good to have all of his fame and fortune.......but now it....i-it just sucks! The paperwork never stops, I can barely catch a break, I don't know any of the computer passwords, and I don't even like wearing this stupid suit!!" Laying his head on the table, he banged his fist against it, choking back tears. "I'm a theater major..not a business major, damn it!"

'Poor Matthew..' You frowned slightly. "If all of this is so overwhelming, maybe you could-"

"No." He quickly sat up, his face darkening with a deep scowl. "I am NOT giving anything back to that lying scumbag! Besides, we have a legally binding contract that states all his properties are mine! That means permanently! Forever!"

"My apologies, sir..i-it was only a suggestion." You put your hands up, feeling tense especially as his demons were now frowning at you. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately...and there's no shame in admitting that."

Matthew blinked. "You've noticed?"

"I have." You nodded. "I mean..a lot of people go to college for one thing and suddenly wind up in an entirely different field. I know my opinion may not matter much, but...I think you're doing a great job despite your lack of experience."

He shrunk back, no longer looking angry but rather...guilty?

"Thank you.." He sighed. "I'm sorry for never saying this, but you've been a huge help cleaning up after all our messes when we had the League of Evil Exes. So..you better give yourself a little credit, too."

Now it was your turn to be flattered, as you smiled and chuckled. "Thank you, Mr. Patel. I appreciate that."

"Uh-huh..and there's something else, too.."

"And what would that be?"

"....I only refuse to throw in the towel because this company can give me the funds necessary to make the Scott Pilgrim musical a reality." He confessed.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. "A musical based off of that guy you killed?"

"Yes. But apparently he's alive. Ramona told me."

"....I see-"

"BUT as soon as the production takes off, I may or may not return some of Gideon's empire to him. I'm sure that asshole is scheming to reclaim it as we speak..." He grumbled, his attitude turning sour again.

You thought about what you could say to cheer him up without patronizing him...but fortunately that wasn't too hard to figure out.

"I wouldn't worry about him. May I ask who you'll be starring as in the musical?" You rested your arms on the table, smirking as you saw the way Matthew's eyes lit up.

"Why, of course!" With a wide grin, he jumped up onto the table, dramatically posing. "I will be the main character: Scott Pilgrim!! I vow to delight and entertain people everywhere!" He laughed, before he stopped and stared down at you. "[Y/n], may I show you a presentation of my many one-man shows? They've all prepared me for this moment and I'd love your opinion on them."

"Sure." Shrugging, you smiled and leaned back in your seat. "I'm getting paid overtime for this, right?"

His face fell flat. "...I'm supposed to give you guys overtime?"

"Well...Gideon never did, but--nevermind." You shook your head. "You can roll the footage."

His grin returned as he snapped his fingers, causing the room to darken and the TV to come to life, showing off one of his many recorded performances.

It was a two hour long video, but entertaining nonetheless. You recognized a lot of the songs and were impressed by all his method acting.

It's no wonder he made such a convincing CEO.

After that, he finally allowed you to go home with a promise to give you overtime....although not before he exchanged phone numbers with you as thanks for being his unofficial therapist for the day.

He claims it's so he can update you on the musical's progress and "other business stuff", as he put it.

But he kept calling you on your days off to talk, insisting you referred to him as Matthew instead. "Mr. Patel" was slowly starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

You didn't mind it, though.

At this point, you accepted the fact that you became your boss' first (and possibly only) friend.

Maybe after he surrenders the G-Man empire for good, that friendship can continue.

[yurinaa-world]

This is for the 800 milestone 🎉🎉🎉🎉 Argenti and Dan Heng Letters are Q, X, Y

Thank you!!! Congratulations! ❤️

✦Characters: Dan Heng & Argenti

✦Alphabet: Q, X, Y

800 Follower Milestone Event; Under The Stars

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

✦Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Photographic memory: he remembers everything you need to do or where you need to be. He'll remind you if you forgot to fix your weapon since it got damaged. Clothes you needed to return but forgot, and it’s already the last day, he’ll remind you to return before you go out. That one accessory he saw, waiting for it to go on sale, but now you’ve completely forgotten it, he’ll remind you since he doesn’t want you to groan later about how you completely missed the sale and now you’ll have to wait or buy it at full price!

✦XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He’s shy about it but loves being affectionate with you. Like after a long day of putting several things into the archive without a break, he’s exhausted, you can keep talking your head off to him while you hold each other close. It's actually relaxing.

✦Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Got you two matching rings so he can look at it and think of you. His ring has the colour of your eyes, and your ring is his eye colour. He just can’t wait to see you again.

𝒜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾

✦Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He is an amazing stylist; he knows how to get you looking fabulous in any type of occasion, in any type of clothes. You feel like a model whenever you go out on a date together. Just look at yourself while feeling so happy with how he dressed you and he’s always happy when you're happy. You can pick his outfit as well, he trusts your fashion choices.

✦XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He is a complete romantic, like if you're gonna kiss you gotta have a beautiful setting as well AND! You can’t forget the roses dedicated to you, which are only one fraction of his love for you.

✦Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Has a picture of you in a necklace that he always puts under his shirt just in case it gets damaged. It would undoubtedly be a nightmare if that necklace breaks, and he loses your beautiful picture. Luckily, that never happened, well lucky for any who hasn’t been put in the position of his wrath.

[maliland]

RESENTMENT: PT. 1

"i gotta look her in her eyes and see she's had half of me." part two

barbie(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: flashbacks/backstory stuff, angst, infidelity, homewrecking, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 2669 banner credz: @/cafekitsune

a/n: first fic on this ho 😓 nervous. idk if i like this so i was procrastinating.. but lmk what y’all think! 🫣 i’ll post a post a poll the end of the fic. if y’all like it then i’ll finish up the second part and post it whenever i get a chance. i haven't proof read, but i'll fix any mistakes when i do.

(nd let me ease your nerves: this is not a fic where miles cheats on reader w/ gwen. she isn’t included in or mentioned in this part or the next 😭)

unfaithfulness might as well be a disease. not one that can be contracted, but one that stems from within. 

those who are unfaithful are unequivocally the weakest links. you? you've always presumed them to be snakes that were to join lucifer on earth at the very beginning of time, because they'd rather cause havoc and jeopardize how those they love perceive them rather than relish eternal peace in the clouds. had adam and eve left the forbidden fruit alone, the one thing that those unfaithful could've stayed faithful to was their identity as whispering serpents. alas, that's not how the story goes. and for the sake of free will, god decided they should reside on earth with those who know nothing but faith. 

betrayal isn't limited to one kind of person. whether the relationship is romantic or platonic, anyone can smile in your face, only to turn around and drive a pre-sharpened knife right through your back when you least expect it. you're left to bleed out while you try and make sense of why it had to be you.

you've been double-crossed before, but never bad enough to the point where you needed to make a huge deal out of it. it was usually stupid stuff, like your elementary friends ratting out your genius hiding spot during hide and seek after they got found, or your mom revoking her promise to take you to the park that one day after school when you were younger. your ex-best friend from middle school spreading nasty rumors about you was far more serious than all the other instances, and it was probably the worst one until now. 

you know that girls and guys alike get cheated on. you've heard stories and even seen it happen firsthand. infidelity occurs more frequently than you initially thought it did. then again, you tried not to think about it much because you were positive it would never happen to you. ever. especially not with your boyfriend, miles.

that was your first mistake—thinking you were immune.

you wanted to gauge your eyes out when your best friend video called you and showed you that photo of miles kissing another girl in a bedroom at a halloween party. 

the girl you were once worried about.

❤︎₊ ⊹

when you were younger, you were in love with the idea of being in love. 

many of your earliest memories consisted of your father reading you fairytales right before bed, since your mother was never around to do so. when he learned that you took a liking to stories that were more centered around love, he began to look for various fairytales pertaining to such that he could read to you. you adored how the love interests would always end up together by the end of each and every story. after enduring all the conflict getting in the way of their relationship thriving, it felt like a reward. you always felt secure knowing a happy ending was guaranteed no matter what transpired throughout the story. you liked that security, but your obsession with it inevitably flawed your perception of love itself. you grew up under the impression that love in the reality in which you reside wouldn't be all that different from the fairytales.

it hurt you when you finally discovered that that wasn't the case. in eighth grade, you had asked your crush to the winter formal. he had harshly rejected you, cracking the most heartless jokes in addition, in attempt to impress his friends, who were indeed laughing up a storm. that encounter alone was enough to ground you to earth. you discovered how disappointing the world and its inhabitants truly were, and how the unrealistic fairytales you once swooned over would never be real life. maybe it was insane of you to ever even think so, given the perilous city you live in.

seeing as dating these days is more detrimental than beneficial, during your sophomore year of high school, you decided that you'd steer clear from being romantically involved in any way, shape, or form entirely. of course, the universe always sends you someone or something you stopped wishing for ages ago when you least expect it. maybe something you didn't even long for anymore at all. you were perfectly okay with sticking to romance novels. you sure didn't want to put your peace on the line, especially not in the name of romance—but someone changed that.

miles.

you knew of his existence before you started dating him, but only briefly. you had an algebra class together your sophomore year, but the boy was quite reserved, only speaking when spoken to. trying to keep to himself and stay out of your school's public eye completely backfired on him, because he became the topic of everyone's conversations multiple times for a full week after his father, the former police captain, passed away. 

officer morales' death was a humbling reminder that brooklyn would only continue to grow more and more minacious. you haven't gone for a walk at night by yourself for as long as you can remember. you'd either be mugged, killed, or both. on the streets of new york, there was peril lurking around every corner. the city has more loose criminals than you were able to count on your fingers. you got used to living in such an environment, but your arm hairs never did stop shooting up whenever you had to step outside.

you recall giving your condolences to miles when he returned to school two weeks later. he had just nodded. you couldn't blame him though. everyone was constantly reminding him of something he'd rather not think about.

if he wasn't reticent and constrained to silence before, he was sure as hell was now. you tried your luck with him anyway, though.

whenever you'd see him sketching in his sketchbook in algebra, you'd compliment his skill or ask him what he was drawing. maybe it seemed a little invasive at the time, but your heart was in the right place. 

"i didn't know you could draw," you whispered to him. your desk was right next to his, so ignoring you wasn't really an option.

"yeah."

"that's cool, art takes skill—and patience," you had smiled.

"mhm."

you fell into a routine of asking miles what he was drawing every day in class. he was undoubtedly annoyed by it at first, but he eventually got used to it, and you finally got more than a one-word response. it was this conversation in particular that changed the way miles saw you.

"is that the prowler's suit you're drawing?" you whispered, surveying the page.

miles nodded and responded flatly. "yeah."

"i think it looks cool. i really like his suit design," you retorted. "especially the purple."

"you do?" he stopped drawing completely and looked up at you.

"hell yeah," you expressed with a faint grin. "he may be a criminal or whatever, but you gotta admit, his suit and his tech are pretty neat."

so then you two were friends for a couple of months. you'd do things like eat dinner at his house, help around the flat, and study together. surprisingly, miles' mom, rio, took a liking to you. she even taught you how to cook, and would let you assist with fixing dinner. 

miles had it was rare for his mama to warm up to people as fast as she did to you, and that made you feel special.

within the period of time in which you and miles would hang out, you ended up catching feelings for him, which you pushed to the side without a second thought. you still firmly believed that a relationship would bring you nothing but trouble. what you didn't know was that miles felt the same way about you as you did him, and eventually, he decided that he couldn't hide his feelings for you anymore.

miles confessed to you one night under the water tower on the roof of his apartment complex. you'd been watching the sun go down together and talking about whatever came to mind. you could've gazed into his perfectly sculpted face until the end of time. you doted on the way his eyes glowed gold when the sun hit them just right.

"you helped me open up. i didn't think that was something i was capable of doing anymore," he had told you. "i really do like you, [name]."

though you were terrified of putting yourself in a position to be played, you didn't want to say no, so you didn't. 

for the two years you've been with miles, you've never not trusted him. he's never given you a reason not to. he's always treated you like royalty, practically kneeling at your feet like being in your presence was a reward all by itself—at least that's what you felt like being his girlfriend equated to. 

it's no secret that miles tends to capture the attention of numerous girls without ever even having to try, whether they went to your school or simply passed him by on the street. miles didn't even have to lift a finger to have them drooling.

when you two got together, you didn't announce your relationship to the public like you were some kind of celebrity couple. that didn't stop people from gossiping like you were, though. according to everyone who went to visions, "miles and [name] popped out with each other out of nowhere!" and that was okay with you. nobody needed to know the ins and outs of you two's relationship. unfortunately, the obvious fact that you and miles were together didn't stop girls from constantly trying to have their way with him—one girl in particular was more persistent than the rest.

you'd be lying through your teeth if you said it didn't bother you at first, because it made you sick to your stomach. the thought of miles leaving you for one of those girls was one you couldn't bear. 

you vividly recall standing beside miles while he was situating his books in his locker before a girl who was well-known around campus, arielle, approached your boyfriend on the opposite side and 'not-so-subtly' flirted with him like you weren't even there. it was no secret that she didn't like you, so you were stuck between trying to figure out if she actually liked miles or was just trying to get under your skin. all you knew was the way she was twirling her perfectly spiraled, bouncy, brown curls around her index while she bit her lip bottom had you undeniably heated. 

"so miles, i've been learning how to braid hair," she had said. "honestly, i think i've pretty much mastered it. i want to practice cornrows... problem is, i couldn't find anyone with the type of hair i prefer to practice on, but then i saw you!"

you had to turn around and face the opposite direction just to hide the distaste that hastily painted your once-neutral expression. you brought your arm to your mouth and coughed twice so it wouldn't look like you were turning around for no reason. when you turned back around, arielle was looking you dead in the eyes, like you had done something horrible to her. you were surprised that she decided to give you even a fraction of her attention instead of acting like you were a ghost altogether.

you returned the energy, narrowing your eyes to slits. you weren't going to go toe to toe with another girl over a boy who was clearly yours. you had just redone miles' hair not even three full days ago, so she'd had to find another guy to practice on.

you shifted your gaze onto miles as he closed his locker. he hadn't even said a word to arielle up to that point, or even looked at her. when he finally made eye contact with the girl, she smiled innocently, as if she wasn't trying to murder you by burning holes through your skull with the way she was staring at you. 

you were no longer bothered by the time miles turned his head to look at you. the way his face was twisted was more than telling, with confusion written all over it. you read that boy like a book. 

"i mean, come on," arielle giggled. "you'd be the perfect person to practice on."

this girl didn't know when to stop. you were silently growing furious, wishing miles would take your hand and drag you away from that foolishness, but no. instead, he chose to engage in conversation with arielle.

"what do you think of my hair now?" miles asked.

this made your stomach drop, but it didn't show on your face. instead of saying anything or trying to figure out why miles cared what this random ass girl thought, you stood still where you were, waiting for the worst to be over. at the time, you and miles had only been together for about five and a half months. you didn't expect your first relationship to end that quickly. if this conversation didn't wrap up soon, you were sure that your head would start spinning and you'd pass out on the spot.

"of course! the two braids always look so good on you. i love them," arielle angled her head and leaned against the locker next to miles'.

"so do i," miles smirked, snaking one of his arms around your upper back to the shoulder furthest away from him. he pressed his palm against your arm and gently urged you closer to him, pointing to you with his free hand then looking back at arielle. "my girl got me right the other day, and she did a damn good job."

a smile crept up onto your face. for only half of a second, you didn't want to come off like one of those annoying moms of five who got the last 75" flat-screen tv during black friday and rubbed it in everyone's faces in the checkout line, until you remembered who's boyfriend miles was.

yours.

you had bragging rights.

"thanks, miles," you looked up at him, smiling brightly as any and all doubts left your mind. your eyes soon met with arielle's again, who was in disbelief. it seemed that you'd exchanged expressions. you were the one geeking now. 

"damn, i'd say gossip doesn't spread like it used to, but the looks you were giving me tell me you know we're together and don't care."

arielle shifted her weight off of the locker, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. she was never one to admit, let alone accept defeat.

"girl, c'mon. don't be lame. miles wouldn't cheat on me. it's even crazier that you thought he'd flirt back while i was standing right here."

"have it your way, but he's gonna crack."

with that, arielle scoffed, opting to leave the situation alone for the day. that wouldn't be the last time she tried something like that, and it probably wasn't the first either. you just happened to be around to see it that time. it made you wonder how miles reacted every other time. you were also quick to question why she claimed miles would "crack." it rubbed you the wrong way.

"she's jus' talkin' outta her ass, hermosa. she likes attention," miles assured you.

for whatever reason, that response alone didn't satisfy you. you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach for the rest of the day. you remember calling miles that same night while you both did homework. in the midst of the comfortable silence that had settled, you decided to bring up how you felt about what had happened.

"i won't lie, earlier today, i was a little scared," you admitted.

"of what?"

"i thought you were gonna ditch me for arielle," you replied, letting out a deep sigh at the same time.

"i'd never," miles promised you. "te amo, chica. and only you. i'm with you for a reason."

"i love you, too," you grinned, genuinely feeling at ease. "i was just paranoid. i know now that you'd never do that to me."

the invasive thoughts that often crowded your mind and kept you up late at night; the ones listing each and every reason why your relationship with miles would crash and burn? they haven't bothered you since then.

©maybemymali

[tunastime]

A Gear of the Heart, Starting

just a little something I wrote for somebody's (@shepscapades) birthday back in November :3 after I asked what etho and bdubs would've been like shortly after etho's deviation. this is the few times before last life where bdubs realizes etho might be a good friend, and how their relationship changes. comes right before A Gear of the Heart, Turning! (4653 words)

Etho remembers quite a bit.

He remembers the ricochet of the explosion through his left side. He remembers a dozen errors across his vision, showing every unit damaged by the blast, the fractals of fracturing snaking up his arm, the shattered remains of his central programming lingering like a livewire. 

Over and over he can remember the pitch of Bdubs’ voice and had to wonder his own diagnosis at that moment. Bdubs watching his android die in his name—he remembers that, too. Bdubs didn’t even ask for that. It was something Etho gave to him. He’s not sure he could even say why, either. 

It remained a bitter flavor he couldn't identify, even as Xisuma assured him he was okay. Something had happened then, sitting on that floor, thirium in hand. Some movement in his chest he couldn’t place. It wasn’t anything physical, but it felt like some gear of his nonexistent heart had started, turned—rotated. And all he could do was ask himself why. What’s he supposed to do with that?

He doesn’t know. Fine. 

Etho goes back to work at someone’s request. Not even his own request, either, so he has to wonder if maybe Doc put him up to it. Him being Bdubs. Him being Bdubs who shifted back and forth on his feet at Etho’s door—a facade of a base in the process of being designed. If one could even call it a base, yet.

And even though he was increasingly certain that Bdubs had been told to ask—and Etho asked him if he’d been asked to help, and he was adamant about asking by himself, that’s what he said. He said: “You think I gotta be told to ask people for help? I can’t just be doin’ things on my own?” and it had felt so much like doublespeak that Etho didn’t even fight to differentiate his tone. 

But Bdubs had asked if he wanted to help with the horse course. Terraforming—it should be right up his alley, if he’s still into that kind of stuff. Figured he was the expert—or so it goes. Etho had nodded. He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do. He supposes he could have easily said no. 

But every part of him yearned to say yes.

So he did.

The dust sifts through his fingers.

Etho perches in the grass, partially hunched as he leans over his line of redstone, shrouded by the hill half-built around him. He’d spent most of the week prior carving out the lines of the track, setting posts for buildings, laying out blueprints for Bdubs to finalize. Today, he lays his line meticulously, dust shifting in his hands. They still shake a bit—nothing a human would notice, nothing that disrupted the flow of his lines, but the overworked gears still shifted in protest as he worked. He could see the faded overlay of the project in his vision if he focused. It crackled, slightly blue-yellow, orange glowing indicators where action was needed, where there were mistakes to be corrected.

It isn’t his redstone to fix. The lines under his hands were—freshly laid by his near-expert technique—but the deeper lines, noteblock announcements, droppers, doorgates, the flourish of the house course, weren’t. Etho smooths out the line he was standing near with his thumb. 

There was nothing wrong with the laid redstone, really. It’s just. Well. It’s not even. It takes up so much space. It lacks the efficiency and tidiness he practiced to a precision. It radiated Bdubs in an overpowering way, one that might turn a gear of the heart—one he didn’t have, of course. Etho’s lines are neat, rigid, conforming to his perfect mental map. 

He lets down his section of dust, drifting over to the dispenser system. He pushes a line further into place, brushing dust back from the side. Further on, where the line crosses, he readjusts it, he smooths them from start to end of line. His hands work where his mind recalculates, looking for errors along the redstone already laid out by Bdubs. Programs bubble up to assist; he dismisses a message, and another as he works. The line straightens from source to sink. 

As he passes, searching for another correction, he hears someone above him. In the corner of his vision, another message notification pings: from Bdubs.

They’re all from Bdubs, actually, now that he notices in full. He blinks, mouth twisting into a frown. Whoops.

He hears someone—Bdubs, he realizes, as he notes the fall of his feet, and the sigh he hops down from his horse, the shuffle of said horse, hooves on grass—clear their throat. Bdubs shuffles around as Etho moves back over to his finished redstone, dusting his hands on the sides of his pants. He lifts the small bag of dust, twisting the tie shut around his fingers as he travels back up the line to recheck the connections. 

“Etho?” Bdubs calls. Etho straightens, just on instinct alone, glancing up at the stretch of sky he can see. It’s bright blue, barely dotted with clouds, and the grass looks warm with sun. He fixes where the dust starts as he sections off the end, tossing the rest of the redstone over to his sling bag.

“Under the hill!”

Bdubs leans over the edge, tilting his head at Etho as he peers into the dark. It takes him a moment to find Etho’s face, partially obscured by black fabric and the fluff of wool around his collar. Etho tilts his head, raising his eyebrows.

“Did you need something?” he asks, arm hanging loosely by his side. Bdubs frowns, too, watching Etho’s expression. As his eyes seem to adjust to the dark, his gaze falls on the lines of redstone. He pauses there for a long moment. In that moment, Etho feels something in his chest grind, almost to a noticeable ache. If he could pull in a breath to settle it, he might have, but the sensation and minute sound passes as soon as he moves his hand to press flat against his regulator. Bdubs is gone when he looks up, reappearing only as he drops into the cavern, catching himself on the wall. He readjusts his cloak around his shoulders, shuffling into the low-light.

“Etho,” he says, still frowning. Etho looks him over. He watches Bdubs set his hands on his hips, but his heart rate stays even and his temperature level. The only thing that changes is the tone of his voice, fluctuating with a pattern Etho recognizes as forcing something. Bdubs takes a long breath in and lets it out. Etho’s eyes find the twitch of his fingers as he folds his arms, rather than the sharp curve of his mouth.

“Yes?” Etho asks. He feels his pump work a little harder. It kind of hurts still, whatever’s stopped working in his chest. He flicks his eyes, recalling a diagnostic, setting it to run in the background as he closes out of the overlays and the world returns to yellowish-grey. Bdubs is still frowning.

“You mind tellin’ me what’s wrong with this redstone?”

Etho blinks. The diagnostic comes up clear.

“What do you mean?” he says, his expression shifting into something copying amusement. He’s trying. He’s at least trying to mimic the emotions he sees. Soon enough it’ll feel natural, he’s certain. “What’s wrong with it?”

Bdubs snorts, which turns into a laugh, which turns into Etho smiling a bit wider, a bit more confusion lingering in his expression as he leans around Bdubs to check his meticulously placed line. Bdubs turns away from him, facing the system, the clock that linked the start gates to the timer below.

“What’s—” Bdubs scoffs, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with it? Etho—” he holds out his hand, waving Etho over. Etho lingers at his shoulder as he steps forward, peering over the curve of it and the moss and small leaves and flowers draped over his neck. “It’s too perfect.”

Etho makes a sound like a scoff now, a caught sound in his vocal unit, a stuttering start to his sentence that doesn’t form right away. He’s trying for surprise, the pitch of his voice rising unexpectedly.

“It’s too perfect?” he asks. 

Bdubs nods. After a moment, Etho thinks he sees his expression shift, the high of his cheek rising. When Bdubs turns his head to look at him, just for a second, Bdubs is smiling.

“Bdubs,” Etho says, sighing, turning away from him, to his bag on the far side of the room. He shakes his head. That something-nothing in his chest flutters and fades and disappears all at once, instead replaced with the urge to smile back. Bdubs laughs, and Etho can imagine him tipping his head back, mouth curved up as he giggles to himself. Etho shakes his head. As he starts to pull away from Bdubs, he feels him catch his sleeve, holding fast to his elbow.

“Etho, wait—” Bdubs giggles. “It looks really good.”

Etho raises his eyebrows. Caught in Bdubs grasp, all he can do is look at him, head tilted, trying not to let the amusement show on his face. Bdubs giggles, face breaking again as he does.

“Etho…” he tries again, fighting back a smile. Etho tilts his head the other way, as if to prompt him further, looking for anything. He stays silent. Bdubs hand lowers slowly, that smile faltering just a fraction. Maybe he thinks Etho’s upset with him. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “You gonna say anythin’? Or you just gonna stand there?”

Etho smiles, finally. He shrugs a little, glancing over at the fixed lines of redstone.

“I fixed your redstone,” he says cooly, sticking his free hand in his pocket. Bdubs blinks. He jerks away as Etho’s smile grows, shoving him hard in his shoulder. Etho wobbles for a moment, smiling to himself, scrunching up his face as Bdubs’ expression morphs. He does laugh, after a beat, poking Etho in the shoulder as he does. Etho hopes he can see the smile in his eyes. He saves, logs, keeps this moment. He’s sure in the low light that his LED spins yellow for a moment. It feels right. If there’s any feeling to catalog.

Bdubs huffs. Etho thinks he hears him say something under his breath. It sounds a lot like thank you.

It’s out of habit, rather than obligation, that Etho finds himself back at the horse course. Of course he ends up here, his feet moving him about as if his brain-not-brain had no thoughts of its own. Man. Some days, it really felt human.

He wanders across the plain, eyes lingering on fully-built buildings, knowing the schematics and plans, watching as those plans-now-buildings stretched higher above his head, where they nearly threatened to pop the sky wide open. 

Bdubs had sat down with him earlier that week, papers spread out between them. He’d stopped by, actually—worked his way up the mountain to the base Etho had finally finished, papers in hand, looking like he was on the verge of collapse. He’d dropped the blueprints on the largest table Etho had managed to clear, spreading out the designs for huge, complex buildings. Etho watched him explain, listened for the inflection of when to offer suggestions, heard the way Bdubs’ voice grew quieter, almost conspiratorial, as he explained his palette. There was something methodical in the way Bdubs spoke, not only in the approach to his colors, but to his style. As much as it seemed eclectic and strange, he watched the pieces fall together as Bdubs spoke of his gradients. There was something deeper there, a precision that Etho, all of a sudden, in that room, craved to emulate. To write to disk. To save. To do more than just copy. 

He’d built the horse stable first—all to his own specifications. It was Bdubs later who came in to detail, tilling up the dirt around to plant grass and flowers, sectioning off parts of the empty stable. It was almost difficult to compartmentalize that Bdubs was finished with it now. That they’d worked each line of the redstone and Etho had supervised the first steps of building, and now he could look up and see the very top, or almost, if he were to strain, of the spikes above the buildings. 

And in just a few weeks, Bdubs was onto another project. Etho smiles to himself. He can’t help it. There was something rather comforting about that. Something about Bdubs dragging him along to help, pointing him toward the thing he was good at, and asking for help. Bdubs showing up at his door with plans. Bdubs cracking jokes with him, and looking for a laugh Etho couldn’t replicate yet. It’s like something clicked. Or was just on the breach of it. And Etho liked it.

Etho clears his field of view, taking in, instead, the stretch of sky where it met the ocean, along the line of hills and grass and flowers, and further still, to the smudge that looked like Bdubs. He blends in too well—the green of his coat barely noticeable against the field of grass that splayed out from the side of his build. There were still materials strewn about—chests half opened, shulkers stacked waist high. 

Bdubs stands to the side of a dark grey and white horse, one hand placed on its nose, the other digging through his bag. Etho watches for a moment. Bdubs fishes around for that entire second that he lingers, searching for something, until he pulls out an apple. Another falls to the ground, rolling away from him. He holds out the fruit for the horse as Etho clears his throat. 

“Hiya, Bdubs—” he says as Bdubs startles, twisting around to see him. He huffs, an immediate frown coming to his face. Bdubs turns to fetch the dropped apple, holding it high above his head as the grey horse nudges its nose into his empty hand. He pats it instead.

“Etho,” he says, tone thin. He sighs, shaking his head. “Scared the life outta me, you know that? You gotta make some noise when you’re walkin’ around.”

Etho smiles, a nice and easy reaction to the annoyance in Bdubs’ voice. It’s getting easier. At least a bit. The smiling part, that is. The inflection that comes with being happy.

“I’ll try next time,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. His hands find his pockets as he looks around, eyes following the path around the buildings. He’s sure the pollen and moss will be stuck to his clothes for days before he gets them out.

“Mm,” Bdubs hums, unconvinced. “I’m sure you will. Now, what’re you doin’ here? You don’t have anything better to do?”

“That’s a good question,” Etho says.

Bdubs turns back to him for a second, just a glance over his shoulder as he cocks his head to the side. He raises his eyebrows before he turns back to the horse, who’s started to nose at his bag. He drags his hand down its nose.

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t have an objective right now?”

“I never have an objective, Bdubs.”

Bdubs snorts again . Etho steps over, slow, minding the horse. It sniffs as Etho holds out his hand, nosing his gloved palm. He pats the horse's nose, somewhat stilted, smoothing over the soft bridge of his nose.

“Right,” Bdubs hums. When Etho glances over to him, Bdubs glances away, as if he’d lingered as Etho stepped over. He’s not moved from Etho’s side, which. Makes something fit into Etho’s chest in a way he isn’t expecting. He rests his hand on the horse's head, looking over at Bdubs in full.

“I can’t come see how the horse course is looking, now that you’re done?” he asks. Bdubs makes an embarrassed sounding noise, watching the rise of the buildings to their left. The horse sniffs, and Etho lifts his hand away, letting it fall to his side.

“I—I got excited about it,” Bdubs mutters. If Etho leans enough, he can see the beginnings of a flush creep over his cheeks, up the shell of his ear. Something about that, too. Etho looks beyond him, though, studying the rise of the buildings as Bdubs does. He nods to himself.

“I can tell,” he says, amusement slipping into his voice, almost naturally. Immediately, Bdubs whips around again, face twisted in offense.

“Hey!” he snaps. “You makin’ fun of me?”

Etho shakes his head, spreading his hands out in front of him as he does.

“No, no. Not at all,” he says, hoping the smile he’s giving is reaching his eyes. “I’m saying we make a pretty good team.”

Bdubs makes a little huff of a sound, but his posture and expression softens. Etho studies it from the moment it appears, trying to place the emotion behind it. He seems upset—but not from anything Etho said. He almost looks guilty.

“We’ve always made a good team,” Bdubs mumbles. Etho blinks.

“Since when have we been a team?”

“Since—s…” Bdubs blurts, then backtracks, folding his arms over his chest. “Well we’re a team now!”

Etho raises his eyebrows, stepping away from the horse and more around Bdubs’ side. He leans in a bit as he stands by his side, bumping their shoulders together. Bdubs doesn’t recoil. Instead, he pushes back, just for a moment, and they jostle. Bdubs hums, sighing through his nose.

“Are we?” Etho asks. Bdubs nods, short and firm.

“Mhm! ‘Cause I said so.”

Etho nods with him. There’s that thing again, a turning, jostling, in some part of his chest that really shouldn’t turn or jostle. He can feel his temperature tick up just a few degrees, a fan kicking on to settle the temperature, thirium sludging warm to cold through his limbs. A team, huh? He couldn’t beat Bdubs’ conviction, that’s for sure. Maybe it was a bit of guilt, then. Maybe something in Bdubs had realized Etho was much more of a help than a hindrance. Maybe Bdubs wanted a friend. Maybe he just felt bad and the feeling bad got to a point where he had to just do something about it. Etho didn’t know. He didn’t live inside Bdubs’ brain. And picking at Bdubs’ every emotion was a task enough to drive his processor into the ground. He could already feel another spike in temperature, LED glowing yellow-blue. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Etho sticks his hands in his pockets.

“I’d like that,” he says, finally pushing out the words as his programming jumps into gear, “What’s our next project then?”

Bdubs goes back to jostling him before he turns away, moving from Etho’s side to collect his horse. Gathering the horse's reins in his hands, Bdubs pauses.

“Ooh…” he says, frowning a little. Etho watches the little furrow of his eyebrows—thinking. Bdubs is turning the idea over in his head. Bdubs steps back over with the horse in tow, already walking in the direction of the horse stable. Etho jolts forward, taking several big steps to match Bdubs’ pace. “Well why don’t you come back to the clock and we can talk about it, huh?”

“That sounds nice.”

Bdubs makes an affirmative sound, leading the horse around and into the stable. Etho watches him unlatch the gate, ushering the horse into the pen.

“I can put the kettle on and everything,” Bdubs says. He lifts the bridle out of the horse’s mouth, running his hand along the length of the horse’s nose. Etho doesn’t mean to watch him as he does, but the action is so purposeful. There’s a moment where Bdubs’ expression is unreadable—unreadable as in Etho simply can’t place anything on it. Unreadable in the amount it changes—something softer than he’s seen, something far away. Bdubs’ whole demeanor seems to shift as he stands still for a moment. Etho isn’t sure what to do with himself. He’s just standing in straw and dirt and stones, all of which he can feel under his shoes. He shuffles a bit, back and forth, to make his presence known, before he says:

“You know I can’t drink anything, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs rolls his eyes, squinting over at him, stepping away from the horse to hop the gate.

“Well you can at least fake it,” he grumbles. He folds his arms again, wrinkling his nose at Bdubs as Bdubs leads him out of the pen and into the open field around the horse course. The shadow of the buildings above them hasn’t changed, yet. The sun is still high and warm in the sky.

Etho laughs. At least, he makes a sound that he thinks passes as a laugh. Bdubs laughs too, though, so it must sound pretty convincing. He nods, the smile on his face feeling much more natural than he ever could have expected. 

“I could fake it,” he laughs. “Sure.”

Bdubs grins at him. It’s nice. It makes the walk back to his base a little more bearable.

By the time Etho gets his invitation to the life game, he’s grown accustomed to being at Bdubs’ side again. He wanders around Bdubs’ base like he knows it, makes it a spot he chooses to map, to memorize. Bdubs checks in on him when he isn’t around as much—asks him how his builds are going, wonders if he needs help. Bdubs lingers in his spaces too, like a plant trying to root, gives himself reasons to stand in doorways just a bit longer, just enough to extend their goodbyes. It feels right—in a way that almost gives reason to Etho’s deviation. Maybe, deep down, from their first introduction, Etho had decided to glue himself to Bdubs’ side and not become unstuck. Maybe he’d simply put that decision, his first ever decision, into motion that day. It didn’t matter much as to why anymore.

When Etho gets his letter, he doesn’t open it. He holds it between two fingers, turning it over and over. He doesn’t need to read it to know what it says. There’s a dark red seal on the back, shaped like a heart. He makes a little sound, some sort of click in the back of his mouth, before he stuffs the letter in his pocket, half-folded.

He finds Bdubs exactly where he expects. Bdubs is sitting cross-legged in his garden, hands in the dirt, when Etho arrives at the crescent moon base. If he looks closely enough, Etho can still tell that Bdubs’ own letter sits on his window sill in the kitchen, unopened. But he’s really squinting to notice, so he writes it off for now as a flaw in his own sight. 

Bdubs turns to him as he walks up. His hair is pushed back away from his face with his bandana, and his hands are covered in dirt, and he’s got a streak of black soil across his forehead that Etho tries not to look at for too long. Bdubs shoots him a toothy grin, going back to his bright orange tulips. If Etho looks long enough, he could probably guess the soil mixture, and tell him if it's good enough to be planting orange tulips in, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes to stand behind him and Bdubs hums in greeting.

“Etho,” he says, looking up again, wiping the dirt from his forehead. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Etho says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He forgets who he picked the gesture up from, but it’s become part of his natural body language patterns now, so he won’t be stopping it anytime soon. “I just came to see how you were doing.”

“How I was doin’, huh?” Bdubs asks, amusement trickling into his voice. Etho smiles, feeling his face pull.

“Mhm,” he says. “That’s right. I can’t come and check up on a friend?”

Bdubs laughs, sticking his spade in the dirt.

“Oh, we’re friends now?” he says, still giggling as he turns around. “I thought we were just a team.”

Etho watches him lean back on his hands, legs coming out from under him. He tries to read Bdubs’ expression and voice for any note of insincerity, or play, or teasing, but doesn’t find anything he normally associates with Bdubs. This just feels true.

“I mean, I figured with how much we’ve been working together…” Etho starts, to which Bdubs startles, waving his hands.

“No, no!” Bdubs yelps. “Etho, I thought the same thing! I just wasn’t expectin’ it from you.”

Etho blinks. It feels owlish, small, almost a wrong reaction to hearing Bdubs say something like that. But it’s what immediately happens, before he tries to open his mouth, and no sound comes out. He waits for a moment. He assumes his LED spins, maybe even red, as Bdubs watches him, face paling.

“Oh,” Etho says quietly.

“We’re friends,” Bdubs says, voice much smaller than Etho’s ever heard it. “‘S that alright with you?”

Etho feels like the proper response would be to laugh, if he could really feel anything at all besides every gear in his chest halting and restarting themselves. He makes a noise that sounds almost like a cough.

“Mhm,” he says. He watches Bdubs’ shoulders relax and finds that his own posture sinks with it. 

“Good,” Bdubs says, nodding along. “Was there anything else you wanted to scare me with?”

Etho knows this tone—playful. Teasing. He works up a smile and fishes the letter from his pocket, slightly bent. Bdubs’ eyes flick right to it, right to the red seal pressed into the paper. Immediately, he scrambles up, reaching for the note in Etho’s hands. Etho lets him grab it in his dirt-covered fingers, even as Bdubs tries frantically to dust off his hands as he notices. Bdubs turns it over itself, glancing up at Etho.

“It’s for you?”

Etho nods.

“It was on my doorstep this morning,” he says. “I can see you’ve got one in your window?”

Bdubs snorts, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I haven’t opened the damn thing. I’m excited up until the point I’m not, ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose again.”

Etho hums. As Bdubs hands him back the letter, Etho rests his hand on his shoulder, giving it a hesitant, light squeeze. Bdubs looks quickly down at it, before he’s back to staring at Etho’s face.

“Don’t worry, Bdubs,” he says, hoping his voice is full of amusement and affection like he feels like it is. “You’ll have me there this time!”

And Bdubs laughs, full and warm in his chest, and Etho jostles him around as he does, until Bdubs is smacking his shoulder and wiggling free. He picks up his fallen hat and his tools, and Etho follows him around the side of the house as he puts things away. As he shuts one of the chest, Bdubs says:

“You mean that, though? You wanna be on a team?”

Etho smiles, feeling his eyes squint, forces every ounce of new feeling into his words when he says:

“I don’t think I wanna team with anyone else, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs’ grin in excitement is more than enough to convince him he’s made the right choice.

It’ll be a long two weeks until the death game starts. When he returns home later that night, Bdubs’ plans for success turning over in his brain, recording for later, Etho reads over the letter enough to commit the page to memory. He keeps it safe internally as the letter finds its way to his bookshelf, half-sealed. Through him, like it’s just under the skin, runs an emotion he’s not yet familiar with. He hopes it's a good one, at the very least. He hopes so, as much as an android, a machine, someone just now familiar with the idea of free will, can hope. 

It feels good, though. And something makes him think that everything will turn out just fine.

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

A random au where bucky is a car mechanic who is fixing his single sexy next neighbor, reader's car. She was wearing slightly revealing clothes to want to get banged by bucky. Luckily it work!!!

The Piper: paid

A/N: Soooooooo fucking sorry about the time in between my last post my wonderful people. Doing my absolute best to make lemonade outta the lemons life keeps whippin at the back of my damn head. Anyway, next story will also be a request as I have so many to get done. Probs won't be doing any thing else till I get those done. Anyway.. On to the fic! Enjoy!

"Dammit!"

Bucky's frustrated outburst, along with something metal clattering against his garage floor is audible as I walk up his long, wide, driveway. Listening to him grumble aggressively about "a piece of shit black lil mercedes" makes me chuckle heartily to my self. Expletives about the damage I staged seems to be most common, along with a couple grunts from an unknown task clearly exerting his strength.

The way his breath puffs out entices the introverted slut in me to visualize him underneath me in immense bliss while I ride his dick to my satisfaction, those heavy huffing pants spilling from his lips. Hopefully today's the day I make my dreams come true.

Looking left to right, I notice there's not a soul outside at the moment. That just means step one of my plan is already in action. The dainty diamond rolex on my wrist confirms it's 5pm. Right on time to get fucked and filled with Bucky's nut till it leaks in my panties. Mmmm... Can't wait to rub em all over my pussy later; his milky cream acting as lube while I make myself cum so fuckin hard. I'm lickin my full heart shaped lips in anticipation while plottin on this poor unsuspectin man.

Passing by his new deep blue jaguar, I run a finger along its pristine paint job as I spot Bucky on a creeper underneath my Mercedes. He takes that moment to run a hand through his fresh cut dark locks while wishing it absolute death. It's impossible not to feel a smidge of guilt at the purposeful trouble Bucky's going through at the moment but if everything goes my way, I fully intend to make it up to him by the end of the evening. Shit, hopefully multiple times this evening. It's outta my power not to smile wide at the way my soakin wet pussy flutters at the thought.

Leaning against his ride with palms flat on the hood, I eye fuck my prize thoroughly. Daddy looks so fucking good in his fitted navy blue tee and snug black jeans on his back, his muscled thighs spread wide. The bottom of his shirt lifts a bit to reveal a peek of his firm, incredibly toned tummy as his hips jut upwards. Dark brown boots spread apart wide when he repositions himself, and the fat ass bulge in between his legs grabs my attention real quick.

I'm so fuckin horny just from starin at Bucky, that I gotta squeeze my thighs together for just even a hint of pressure on my pulsating center. My shorts are past drenched where they rest sticky against me. The arousal drippin out plasters my brown thick thighs as my needy little cunt clenches rapidly around nothing. My nipples are so fuckin hard from lightly rubbing against the extremely transparent fit I chose just for him.

"Hey Buck, whats the progress on my baby?" I finally grab his attention as I drum my glossy short jet black nails on the hood of his car.

The wheels on the creeper squeak as he rolls from underneath the source of his current troubles and stands. His eyes focus on the black grime on his hands and he heads to the small sink in the corner of his garage as he responds.

"Woman, I don't know how you manage to damage something on this vehicle every week but it's gotta stop. I'm startin think you just like to come see me."

"Well why not? You're a sight for sore eyes, good lookin."

He dries his hands while laughing at my brazeness and, as always, not taking my corny flirtation serious.

"Boy, you laughin like I won't fuck the daylights outta you right fuckin now."

That flippant response however has him spinnin on his heels to face me. Bucky's vibrant blue eyes grow to orbs and he's rendered speechless as he thoroughly takes in my damn near non existent ensemble. This man is staring at the swell of my perky titties so intently that I know step 2 of my plan is gonna be a piece of cake and I really hope its not my imagination when noticing a twitch from the protrusion in his black jeans.

Dropping the cloth in his hands to the garage floor, he takes long strides till he's standing outside in front of me. His pretty pink lips part and close multiple times as he struggles to speak as he gazes at my nipple covers. Wonder what Daddy's next moves gonna be..

Bucky doesn't say anything at first; but the way he lustfully takes me in gives me goose bumps. His big hands reach around me to grip under my ass and hoist me up against his body. I don't hesitate to wrap my arms and legs around him as he walks us to his parked car, layin me across the warm hood.

"Damn sweetheart, where you plan on goin lookin like this?" Bucky asks, eyes still darting around my body as he presses his clothed hard dick between my legs. The pressure of him against my pussy feels heavy, has my clit thumpin wildly and I'm grindin back without a thought.

"I have a date tonight." I respond breathlessly and that makes his light crystal cerulean eyes snap to mine.

"That right? What're you doin underneath me then, woman? Huh? A little pregame?" He teases, leaning in so close that our lips almost touch.

I shake my head at his questioning as my cheeks heat up from his words. Still, its difficult to feel true embarrasment as his hands glide slowly over my frame, leaving a trail of warmth that makes me press into his palms. Bucky's touch and proximity stuns me a bit, makes my brain fuzzy and pussy clench for him ferally. The small sexy smirk playin at the corner of his lips turns me on just as much as him dry humping me in broad daylight ontop his brand new ride.

"Huh y/n? Is that it? Did you come to me first cause you wanna cum for me first?" He chuckles at me.

Leaning down, his soft lips pecks light kisses from the cheek to my ear. His fingertips skim under my tight bottoms, so dangerously close to my clit as he nips and sucks at my skin. I'm moaning and nodding my assent as I tug him to press against me firmly by the loops of his jeans.

"Fuuuuck.. Lemme feel you then pretty girl."

Bucky's fingers finally dragging across my throbbing button lightly, makin me damn near seize underneath him. I do nothing to mask the loud gasp of his name as the pleasure from just one swipe has me squeezin my eyes shut and grabbin at the top of his jeans in a death grip.

"Damn, my girl is soooo sensitive."

His low groan at my ear makes my soaked pussy flutter quicker and I can feel myself becoming desperate from his teasing touches. The sensation of one hands roaming up my body to gently squeeze over my left tit as the other sweeps across my pussy has me choking on my breaths with a heaving chest. Bucky lifts his head to watch me as he slowly traces circles around my clit, never fully pressing down on it the way I crave.

"Pleeease Buck, pleeeeease." I beg for him to give me more as my incessant yanking on his bottoms pops open the silver button and zipper.

A surprising thanks to the foregoing of underwear is definitely due because I'm then gifted with fattest dick I've ever seen. He's so. Fucking. Perfect. Almost pretty if it werent how girthy his shaft is, the angry flushed head of his dick drooling an abundant stream of precum. I easily notice the weight of him prevents it from slapping upwards; the thick tip of his cock points at my slippery slit. I don't stop pulling at him, humping the tip of his dick while I continue to plead for him to give me what I want most.

"Okay, honey, okay. I'll give you what you want. But lemme take you inside- haaaah, ooooh fuuuuck.."

Our moans mingle togther as one of my harsh tugs forces a few inches of his dick inside my awaiting core. Bucky eyes are wide as saucers as he stares where we connect with an open mouth. His breathing is harsh and loud; strong chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly grabs my hands from his jeans. I immediately grieve as his touch leaves my tit and clit but my pussy involuntarily clutches at the head of his dick as he pins my wrist to the hood of his car.

"Jesus, woman. Mmmm.. Dammit, aaaaahhh fu- you couldn't wait till I got you inside?"

"Noooo, James. Want you, NEED you noooow. Please Jaaames, pleeease!" I don't notice the volume of my voice rising as I start to lose my fuckin mind.

Bucky's gaze is piercing but frantic, darting from the small puddle forming underneath me on the hood of his car to the way I'm hangin off the end of his dick. But I think it's the way I whine his first name that breaks his resolve. He briefly halts pinnin me down to put my legs over his shoulders. He's then scooping my wrists together in one hand and covering my mouth with the other.

"Fine, pretty girl, don't say I didn't warn your bad ass. Tried to give us some privacy. Now you gonna take this dick no matter what."

The first pump of his cock has him slidin in halfway, the river spilling from me aiding his stroke in. Still, his fat ass shaft splits my delicate walls apart swiftly, the intense pressure has my glossy y/e/c eyes and lined lips opening wide. I squeal loudly gainst his palm, not expecting Bucky to already be sitting in my guts even though he wasn't all the way in yet. WTF..

"Fuuck, sobigBuck, you're HUGE." I whimper, peering up at him with vacant eyes. He leers down at me with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, but my girls gonna have to get used to it huh?" He asks, starting fuck up into my gushy slit.

I don't mean to yank at his hold on my wrists but his next 2 thrust are so fuckin deep. My resistance doesn't free me, though it pulls him off balance and he slides in to the hilt. The tension in my tummy deepens as I feel his cock diggin into my pussy in places no man's ever reached. If it weren't for the hand cupping my mouth, I'm sure the scream I let out would be deafening. Bucky moans out praises as I squeeze my eyes shut tight and try my best to breathe through my nose.

"You're doing so damn-ohshit- weeeeell honey, takin me sooooo good. Mmmmmm.. Chokin the fuckin life out my dick y/n. Not s-sure how long I can last in this hot, tight ass, little pussy, sweetheart. Fuuuuuuck.. Keep being a good girl for me, try to keep quiet okay?"

I can feel Bucky's stare on me even through my close lids, so I nod my compliance. In reality, I pray to god that i dont scream out 'Daddy' for the whole neighborhood to hear while he's dickin me down.

He takes his hands from my wrists and mouth, sliding them down for a quick grab of my plump brown breasts, then to grip at my waist. The pull of his dick slowly slidin out then swiftly plunging back inside has me panting loudly with furrowed brows. I have to cover my own mouth this time, both hands pressed against my lips as he repeats the motion of his hips over and over until he's fucking me in a unhurried but deeply precise rhythm.

"Ohmygod James! Sogood-you'resogood! Don't stop, pleeeease d-don'tstop!" My muffled cries are crazed as he finally stuffs me with dick.

"I won't, honey, won't stop till you cream all over me. Wouldn't dreeeeam of it, baby. Can't stop till you cum on my cock. Fuuuuuck you feel like heaven baby, pussy got me ready to nut an we jus started. Haaah oooh God, sooo good, need you to cum first, y/n."

I'm already covered in perspiration as the breeze races across my nut brown skin and cools me down. Its about the only thing I notice, sounds of the passing cars and chirping birds drowned out by the loud rushing in my ears as Bucky thoroughly fucks the shit outta me. The pleasure swirling in my tummy is so fucking taut, and I know when I cum it's gonna be fucking spectacular.

His unrushed pace begins to speed up, the impact of him pumpin into me rocks his car back and forth as his grunts become more frequent. My knees tremble near his ears from the onslaught, from hearing how good Daddy feels because of me.

He looks just as delicious as he sounds, his body so fuckin tense as I witness how he loses himself in my pussy. Normally his light blue eyes are what stun me, but the dark pupils so damn dilated captivate me into a trance. I stare back helplessly as he gives me the best dick I ever had.

The hands holding my waist clutch snugly, usin his leverage to help fuck me a bit faster. His dick twitches against my walls heavily as Bucky groans out his pleasure, grunts out how he can't take the creamy ring getting thicker around the base of his dick.

"Can I-mmmmohfuckohfuckhoney-can I kiss you sweetheart?"

The sugary sweet question is sudden and takes me aback, is almost funny considering how severely deep he's seated inside of me. I might've even laughed if I wasn't keening from the amazing dick I was currently receiving. Too overwhelmed to answer, I release my mouth and clasp my fingers behind his neck, pulling his face to mine.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to my mouth with soft pink lips. Then another. And one more, the third one deepening with passion. It doesnt matter that he slows the pace of his hips to a crawl again; he continues to grind and dig so deep that his cock curves and hits a firm but gummy spot inside my cunt. It's too damn difficult after that to keep in sync of his lips as he drags his spasming dick across my g spot with too much fuckin accuracy. My sobs against his mouth doesn't stop Bucky's assault on my body. I know what time it is when his hand leaves my waist to press a firm quick circle directly on my clit.

"Mmmmm, pussy f-feels too fuckin 'mazin y/n, sooooclosebaby. I'm gonna buss babygirl, gonna fill that pretty lil kitty to the brim. Need you to cum too, honey. Pleeease." Bucky pleas with me in between messy damp kisses.

I'm way too near my end for full sentences, but from the way I mewl 'James' repeatedly, he seems to get the point. His grinding comes to an abrupt halt before he pulls his dick all the way out and vigorously stabs back in over and over, smashing my g spot and flicking my clit ferociously.

"Bu- haaaah! Aaaahh fuuuu- James! Ohgo- mmmm.. Uhn, uhn, uhn, JAMES!"

My orgasm is almost incomprehensible at first, the pressure in my gut exploding, spiraling outta control and I squirt fiercely against his torso. Warm lips engulf my mouth, sucking and nipping, probably to hush the animalistic noises coming from me as I quiver and shake underneathe him. Its like an avalanche of sensation, so intense I have to grip and claw at his shoulders to ground myself.

"Ahhhh, fuck y/n! Can't take feelin you gush my dick like this. Gonna give this pussy just what she needs honey, fucking cummin sweetheart! Ahhhh shiiiit! Sogood, sogood! Fuuuuuck!" Bucky huffs and puffs his pleasure against my swollen lips.

His fist slams down against his hood, ceasing his rubbing on my pulsating clit as he spurts deep inside my trembling cunt. I can't help but to soak in his grunts of love and praises to me.

Baring his weight on me to keep me in place, he splashes another lava hot jet of cum against the walls of my pussy and it feels too fucking good to feel James Buchanan Barnes fill me up with savagely massive load of cum. I watch him quake as he erupts 2 more explosive sprays inside before pulling out, shooting the last of his cum on my cocoa brown slit.

"You planned this.." Bucky accuses, not wasting any time to catche his breath. His eyes planted where he smears his thick cream allover my pussy as he waits patiently for my response. Daddy doesn't stop till my pussy's covered in his cum. Only then does slip my legs from his shoulders, my snug bottoms back in place and his still very hard dick back into his jeans.

Tired eyes meet my heavy-lidded gaze but I take a few deep breaths to steady myself before I answer. My pussy is already sore but fluttering for more as I bask underneath Bucky's muscular frame.

"I did. Came up with a mastermind plan." I say proudly, my own smirk comin out to tease him.

"Oh really? And how many steps did this 'mastermind plan' have?" He asks with a raised brow, as he zips and buttons his pants

"Just 4." I answer shortly, knees comin up to squeeze at his hips and rub my hands down his abs to the loops of his jeans.

"Which were?"

"Well step 1, purposefully fuck up my car so-"

Bucky cuts me off mid sentence, leaning down so the tip of his nose almost touches mine. His hands grip each of my thighs firmly as quickly yanks me flush against his body and speaks in a low growl.

"I knew it woman! I've been wasting my fuckin time workin on your goddamn car for weeks and- You know what? Talk is cheap; time to pay the piper, honey."