#He would find one he deems metal enough

[jadewritesficshere]

Spin

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: a night at the fall festival with your boyfriend

Contents: fluff, really just wanted to encapsulate a fall feeling

The cool brisk breeze sent a shiver down your spine. Red, brown, and golden yellow leaves swayed on trees and fell without a care. You watched the leaves on the ground, stepping on the ones that looked to have a good crunch to them.

The annual fall festival had arrived, signaling fall in Hawkins. The streets near the town hall had been taken over with booths and rides. The smell of popcorn and hot dogs filled the air. The mechanical whir of rides and screams of excitement from children filled your ears. Strings of fairy lights twinkled between trees, neon colors flashing from rides and booths alike. Instead of joining the throngs of people mingling about, you stood waiting near your car. Waiting for your best friend recently turned boyfriend.

And like you summoned him, he appeared. In between the sea of people and cars, your boyfriend. Tall and scrawny, metal and leather, loud and magnanimous. Eddie. Your beautiful metalhead.

The moment his eyes fall on yours a bright smile spreads across his face. He does a half walk half jog over to you before bowing," My Liege." You giggle," My Knight." Eddie straightens and places his hands on either side of your face. Hidden between cars, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips as his wild smile turns softer, sweeter. Something only for you to see.

Eddie takes his hands away from your face, and you would mourn the loss of contact except he intertwines his hand with yours. The rings on his fingers like ice due to the breeze. But you don't pull back- no, if anything you hold his hand tighter. And together you traverse into the festival.

You weave between people, smiling at the feeling that fall had arrived. Eddie walks up to a booth selling tickets for rides while you stand watching the excitement taking place all around. Kids throwing ping-pong balls into bowls of water, squealing with delight when they win a fish, whilst their parents grimace but grin. A man winning his girl a plush prize by throwing a ball at a stack of bottles, tumbling with a loud crash. A ferris wheel in the distance, reaching towards the sky.

Eddie leads you towards the ferris wheel, knowing it is considered romantic. The basket sways as it takes you into the sky. Of course, it isn't as romantic as the cart below you that held the couple cuddling. No, Eddie was causing your cart to swing back and forth, cackling wildly while you held on for life and scolded him. Romantic? No. Fun? Yes.

You wanted to weep for joy at the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet, making a mental note to never do a heights attraction with Eddie again. The smell of popcorn catches your attention. You head towards the area that sold food. Popcorn, hot dogs, fries, cotton candy, caramel apples, lemonade, and many more foods available. You smile, watching Eddie dart to the booth selling funnel cakes. Though Eddie may try to deny it, he had a sweet tooth.

You get your popcorn and a soda, keeping an eye on Eddie. He had a habit of wandering off- you weren't much better actually. Eddie is munching on the funnel cake when you return, powdered sugar dusting his lips and cheek. "Want some?" Eddie holds the plate towards you. A warm fuzzy feeling lights up in your stomach, as you know Eddie never shares his food. You tear off a small corner and put it in your mouth, Eddie beaming at you.

Once you both have ate your snacks and walked around, discussing the sights and people watching, Eddie goes to toss your trash. You smile as he sees a squirrel and tries to coax it to him. The squirrel is completely unenthused by Eddie, running the opposite direction. You turn your attention to the sunset. Hues of orange and pink spread across the sky, mimicking the colors around you. Even though you are in a loud section of the festival with people talking all around, you've never felt more peaceful.

A tug on your hand signals the return of your boyfriend. He talks animatedly about his newest campaign whilst you walk. You stop in front of a brightly colored ride. The platform spins in a circle, having a slight incline and decline on either side. Carts sit atop smaller circles that spin one way or the other depending on gravity. The neon sign saying Tilt-A-Whirl catches your eyes on the spinning attraction.

"Want to go on?" Eddie asks, smiling at you. All the lights and bright colors around, all the sights and fun, and yet you were the prettiest thing he could look at tonight. Your soft smile answered the question, Eddie leading you to the line. You squeeze his hand with yours briefly and he tugs on your arm, making you fall into him. You laugh as he wraps his arms around you. Eddie kisses your forehead and you can feel your heart pick up.

"You know what we gotta do right?" Eddie asks and you pull back with a questioning look. "We have to lean to one side, get gravity on our side. We'll spin super fast." Eddie nods, a determination set in his eyes. You blink a few times, wondering if maybe it was a mistake to choose this ride, remembering the ferris wheel. However, you get ushered in before you can change your mind.

Eddie rushes past you and jumps up on the platform, holding his hand out to help you up," My liege." "My Knight." You grasp his hand as he tugs you along. He clambors inside the cart. Eddie flops into the seat, his chains and belt clanging against the metal. You sit next to him and he pulls the bar in place. There is enough of a gap it doesn't press down on you, but you won't be able to slip out of the ride either. It seems like it is almost designed for you to move around on the seat to help aid or deter the spinning of the cart.

You glance over at him and feel your heart stutter. The neon flashing lights of red and blue seem to cause an ethereal glow around him. His eyes are lit up with excitement as he shifts in the seat. His little wriggles cause the chains on his belt to jingle, a nice melody in your ears. Eddie's eyes dart to yours before looking away, quickly doing a double take and staring back at you. "Why are you watching me?" Eddie laughs out, swatting at you.

"You're just so pretty." Your heart feels full. Eddie's eyes widen and his face flushes slightly. He grabs a piece of hair to hide behind, batting his eyes at you," Says the prettiest person around." You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it lightly and giving him a grin.

His smile softens as he leans in towards you. Your lips are millimeters away from touching when the ride jolts as it starts. You both jump back as your cart turns. "This is it! We have to lean together!" Eddie barks out a laugh and leans into your space," I won't complain." You roll your eyes at him as the cart spins.

And as you spin wildly, listening to Eddie's laughter and shouts of directions to lean to, you know you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Just like there may be ups and downs in life, crazy turns, and things that cause your head to spin, you know you can face it with Eddie at your side.

[comfortless]

Pygmalion!König and Galatea!Reader………. 😖 What do you think?

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. pining, light angst. self harm, implied animal death (not done by König or reader), fluff, König is horrible and by that i mean yes— he fucks the statue, outercourse, unprotected piv, implied mutual loss of virginity.

notes: lovely Salome did something similar to this already! 💖 however. yes. i am thinking about it and well…. take this out of my hands.

König has never had anything that could properly be called his own.

He walks the city entirely alone, no wife at his side to paw at his chest and bless him with adoring glances. His only steadfast companions are the grit slipping into his sandals as he walks, head held high even as the shadow of a boy begging on his knees for any semblance of love eternally tethers itself to him.

A glance lingering too long at the appeal of a soft face, the brush of his calloused fingertips against a pornai’s bare stomach before deciding that no, he didn’t want something so simple.

He merely slips a few apologetic drachma into her waiting palm and sets her free of him.

A warm body would never be enough, it was the heart that he starved for. To bed some poor creature that would never properly love him would be worse than the greatest of tortures in his mind.

It wasn’t a simple affair to find a lady to marry, either. Foreign soldier that he was, he had no right to some politician’s pretty daughter, court her properly and sweep her away to a bed that’s only ever been a harbor for lonely, twisted bitterness and blood.

Most turned away the moment he passed by: frightened glances that rightfully accused him of immense violence, shushed whispers of “barbarian” passed from soft lips before the sand beneath their fretful feet shifted and their shapes had disappeared from view entirely.

The ceaseless loneliness carves a burning ache somewhere within the expanse of his chest, something he knew he would never truly be free of, not until it rotted it’s way out of him in full.

It only seemed to quiet in moments he shed blood for this foreign country; burying his sword in some poor man’s gut was the closest he could get to sheathing a part of himself inside another, to touching a heart, seeing lips part in a gasp as their world becomes entirely consumed by him.

Just as the many days prior to this one, he grips the hilt of his blade, letting the metal dig into his palm, his knuckles bone white, as he makes his way back to the empty shack deemed a home.

Streets quiet and crowds disperse with each of his silent footfalls— not one of these smaller men or fearful women dares to look him in the eye. The only thing that does, the only eyes that ever lock to his, are those peering out from the harbor.

The figurehead guarding her expertly crafted ship has always called to him.

Her beauty was remarkable, from the curl of her hair to the patient look in her eyes. Her hands clasped before her breasts in silent prayer as she looms over the darkened depths of the sea beyond the soil, calling him to board, to venture away from this place that his left him in such an acute state of misery.

He swears he hears it then, a mere whisper on the wind, urging him in featherlight comfort to lie down his sword and take up the chisel and hammer.

It’s only when he pauses to look the gentle face of the figurehead over once more that he finds himself resolute in what he must do.

— — —

When he took to crafting her it was born of this desperation; hazy moonbeams cutting through the shade of his shack for hours before he would reluctantly pull away from a beautifully carved hand or the soft but stiff curve of a neck to retire to the straw-stuffed mattress at the corner of the room.

She was beautiful, a representation of all of the sweet, effeminate softness he would marvel at from afar. The swell of plush breasts, curved hips and silken thighs, eternally parted by her stance, the sweet face that could make any man feel entirely weak…

His hands tremble when they rest upon her form, unsure of just how such splendor could have come from his own coarse palms.

Weeks of scarce sleep only seemed to further his devoted madness. Though the warring dulled the ache and sated his blade, the longing seemed to only grow far more prevalent.

He yearned when they were apart, dreamt of coming home to her less lifeless and only demure smiles and hurried kisses the moment he would return to her. He would always come back.

Upon her completion, he took to courting her proper. Though she could not in any way reciprocate or reject his advances, he believed wholeheartedly that the cushiony love that had blossomed within his aching, neglected heart must be mutual.

Gifts were strewn at her cold feet, some gilded and shimmery, some soft with an abundance of colorful petals: offerings for a silent goddess that kept a part of his soul hidden away deep inside the pristine marble that she was carved from.

When he wraps her neck in a necklace with a sparkling beryl amulet attached, his hand does drift to the swell of her breast beneath the woolen chiton.

It’s hard and cold, but his groping becomes as incessant as the kisses he presses to her jaw, to her cold lips, tongue leaving a warm path down to her neck before he finds himself committed to having her.

He’s careful when he disrobes her, slowly revealing the mounds and curves and softness of her imitation of human flesh.

Dropping to his knees, his tongue laps at the ivory depiction of smooth lower lips, spearing between each silken ridge until he imagines her eyes squeezing shut as she cries out for him, rolling her perfectly sculpted hips to coat his tongue in waves of vulgar honey.

He moans into her cunt, drools and sucks at the mimicry for as long as it takes to find her thighs drenched in his saliva and his cock aching horribly between his thighs.

He rises to slot himself between her legs, pushing forward with a keening whine that dissipates into a relieved gasp. The feel of her pressed against him; the smooth ridges of her makeshift flesh running over his stiff, leaking cock is akin to finding divinity.

His hands rove over her breasts, thumbs pressed against her eternally pebbled nipples as he kisses her, each sloppy and filled with years of need.

It is pure bliss, almost as though he is burying himself to his hilt inside of her pulsing cunt.

He would fuck her better than any man— not a single other could match the strength of his affections nor his hapless willingness to please.

If he could have carved a proper hole between her legs, not a drop of his seed would be wasted on thin sheets or spilled into his palm, she would be filled, womb brimming until some loving god or goddess blessed her with child.

His pace quickens to the point of frantic, feverish hands drifting to her hips as he mouths at her breasts instead, hissing out praises for how good she feels against him, how his heart bleeds to feel her nearer.

There is so much heat between her thighs now he could swear it burns like the cold mist of the Underworld itself; the fuzzy heat pools from his navel and further as his muscles begin to tense and leave his thoughts a haze and his lips parted in a silent, worshipping cry.

It’s only when he envisions her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, back arching as she drags her nails over his shoulders and whines through her own damnation that his cock throbs in repetition as his eyes roll back. His heavy sack arrives at her mound as his seed spills from him, cascading down to paint the thighs of his silent lover, smeared pearly and glistening over her labia as he rubs his cockhead against her with an agonized groan.

His forehead finds her shoulder, warm breath replacing the coldness of her skin as he wraps his arms around her perpetually beckoning form, lovingly trailing kisses from her clavicle to her ear where he whispers a breathless, “I love you.”

It’s only after he’s finished wiping away the evidence of depravity from her that he feels the first wave of shame, sharp and feathering from his chest that leaves his jaw set and throat tight.

What lowly man envies the warmth others experience with far less gratitude? König has never seen himself as pathetic, no matter how commonly he’s been sent off and kicked like a stray.

She’s the only thing that’s brought him any sort solace in a world that’s left him starved, but also a cruel mirror casting a reflection of his own nature.

Pulling the thin blanket from his mattress, the statue is soon swallowed up in her entirety, all guilt and pity-drawing attestation neatly hidden away behind rippling sable fabric; her form silent and waiting as it would remain eternally.

None of this is enough.

———

König has never found himself fond of prayer, never felt the need to partake in the festivals and ceremonies. His luck in battle was only a mere measure of skill, of a body so brutal and immense that most trembled before him, not born of any benevolent gift. There was no need to kneel, to bestow offerings upon the altars. If the people turned away from him, then surely any god or goddess would be even more inclined to do so.

Only… his mindless wandering has led him here, to Aphrodite’s altar whilst the festival of Aphrodisia plays on everywhere around him. The people invoke and dance, abundant offerings brought forth as the scent of timber burning and bold floral incense floods his senses. Blood and flowers already riddle the stone, a stark vibrancy of color that lures him closer, commands him to kneel.

He doesn’t have a thing to offer to the goddess, not so much as a petal, but if the pull were not just the first signs of a withering mind…

The glimpse of hope he’s offered is not taken for granted.

Thick fingers curl over his sharpened blade, dragging his palm against the steel until it stings almost sweetly. If she could accept the blood of a goat then surely, his could be no more polluted. Beads of crimson revel and dance along his forearm before dropping down onto the stone.

And he does pray.

It is not a vulnerable prayer, one that bares him in full, but only a wish— a longing for warmth, to have her share his breath, to admonish his shame and live free with the one thing that has never given him anything but safe harbor.

He unveils her when he returns, knowing that this is the closest he will ever come to love.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against her cheek, leaves a kiss there before dragging himself away to disrobe and pull himself back into bed.

When the weariness takes him, his sleep in dreamless and calm. If any blessing were bestowed upon him at all, the surely that would have been more than enough. A night without turning, without visions of a darkened grave devoid of anything to haunt him.

He only begins to stir when the mattress dips at his side, a soft palm pressed to his chest, stroking along the loose curls of auburn there.

“König..,” a voice calls out, more gentle than any he’s ever heard.

He wakes to find her, leaning over him with the sweetest glimmer in her eyes, wide and fascinated. Her touches only trail further up to his face as he tries to silence the rapid beating of his heart, the stinging born of adoration in his own pale blue eyes.

“I missed you,” she whispers, moving to curl at his side, her hands cradling either side of his jaw.

König is utterly stifled and so terribly smitten, the most he can manage is a quiet huff of breath as he rolls onto his side to take this sweet, unreal woman into his arms. Dreaming or waking, it mattered not, if he were given only the night or a lifetime with this beautiful little creature it’s still more than he has ever had.

His head dips to press a chaste kiss to her soft lips, only finding a warmth there that had never been the many times he had kissed her prior. His palm runs along her side, feeling ever perfect dip and curve, all heated and so very alive.

She only falls apart beneath his touch, already quivering and softly gasping even from such a gentle kiss. The thought that this little dove has been longing for him just as much makes his heart bleed. He whispers his apologies against her temple, for his frustrations, for his doubt in their love, for all of the temptations and hatred that plagued his mind before she came to be.

She only answers with eager touches, grasping at him as she murmurs her own perceived shortcomings. If only she knew that she could never do wrong, that she was what’s saved him and that nothing could shatter that.

When her tongue slips past his lips and his breath grows heavy, there’s little else he can concentrate on than the throbbing pillar between his legs, the scent of her around him, under him when he guides her onto her back.

Thanking the goddess could wait, he’s far too focused on the one that’s willingly climbed into his bed.

One hand splays at her side forcing him upright as the other trails over her breasts, a satisfied groan leaves him as he feels her softness, fighting back to urge to squeeze and pinch until she cries in pleasure, howling out like those at the altar he had encountered only earlier.

A nipple is snared between his thumb and index, twisted gently beneath each pad, her back arches…The wetness of the dew slicked flower between her legs brushes against him and he whines like a starved dog finally presented with the aroma of a meal.

His hand falls from her breast to her hip, encouraging her to buck the source of her own need against him— take anything she needed. If she were to pull a blade and carve a hole in his own chest he would only let her, the taste of this heated bliss and the look that she gives him, enchanted and curious, is more than he has ever deserved.

Only does he pause when he parts her thighs, and her stare becomes more curious, searching him for any reason as to why he would even stop.

“We have done this before. Are you afraid now?”

No, he wants to tell her, that before was not the full extent of it. Instead he only laughs, peeling away just enough to fit his head between her legs, mouth only a small measure from her weeping cunt.

“I want to taste you.”

With a whispered plea from her lips, he raises her hips, mouthing and suckling at her until she shivers and sings against the cushions. He groans against her when she does come, her hips stuttering in his grasp as she drives further against him.

He hisses in his mother tongue when he pushes the backs of her thighs up, grinds his leaking tip against her until he swears he really will fall into madness if he doesn’t fuck into her immediately.

The ache in his chest that his been so prevalent for so long is finally smothered out the very moment she tugs him down by his shoulders and pulls him into a frenzied kiss. She encourages him in each lapse, murmurs how long that she’s waited, how starved she’s been for him while hidden away.

He nearly sobs when his tip snags against her entrance, so divinely wet, pulsing and begging just as he is. When he penetrates her, the breath is punched from his lungs, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her within reach as she wraps around his shaft as though her cunt was made for him.

His little dove only covers him in kisses in turn as he mumbles obscenities into her flesh, revelling in her tightness, in the way her body fits so perfectly against his, mutually carved by the gods to fulfill one another. His professions of love come in abundance as she fits her legs over his narrow hips, crying out from his sudden depth as his cock jumps against a spot that leaves her writhing.

Though it’s almost painful to keep himself restrained, he tries his best not to rut into her like a mindless animal, even when he feels her constrict around him as another orgasm leaves her cunt drooling and pulsing. He doesn’t give her time to recover, however… forced to lie in wait for so long, it’s nearly taken out on her as he spears into her as she moans and babbles her praises against his chest.

He’s lost to the empyrean as his muscles finally pull taut, crying as he buries his head into her shoulder and pumps his come into her, shaking as he wraps her up in his arms and clutches her close as he melts against her.

Spent and sated, König holds her tightly against him as they pant and share sweet words, secrets and giggles from her that make every moment of dolor before this night seem insignificant.

She slots her fingers between his own, compliments his damaged face and the worships his body with brushes of her lips and tongue just as he does her. He does not leave her empty, warms her heart with words he’s kept trapped in his throat for months, guides her gently as she perches over him to descend back onto his cock, his thumb stroking her stomach as he tells her over and again just how much he loves her, compared his feelings to that of Orpheus, how he would suffer anything all for her.

A pleading “Stay” is uttered as she falls limp against him, stroking along her back as they come down for the second time that night.

The last thing that leaves her lips before sleep takes her is the most saccharine she’s said that night, a simple, “I love you.”

It’s the only thing that he’s ever truly longed for.

———

They marry after the voyage back to his homeland, his head clouded during the entire trip of seeing her swell with his child in time, a home built with her in mind for the two of them, of lying flowers at her feet just as he had before.

His blade lies neglected in the little glade they had chosen, taking up only a hammer and his own hands as he works tirelessly to provide for his wife, the dove that looks at him as though he were not a dog but a king.

When their home is built after many weeks of tedious work during day and bedding her beneath the stars each night, König only then thinks to pray his thanks to the foreign goddess who gifted his salvation to him with little more than a scrape from his palm. All the while his true goddess leans over him to tickle his cheek with flowers he had plucked for her only moments prior, covering him in a fragrance so sweet it only seemed befitting of herself.

She giggles and sighs when he pulls her down into the grass to roll over her, blanket her in kisses and gentle bites to her throat.

The beryl amulet around her neck catches the glimmer of the sun above as she sifts her fingers through his hair and tells him that the gods already knew he was grateful, that his worship of her was already telling enough.

[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 5,540

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, a flu, coughing, shots, age regression

A/N: forgive me for the lateness with this one. i was very sick, like bed-ridden sick, and when i got a little better i got to writing right away. please be kind to me with this one, i'm still high on meds:" please enjoy xx💜💜

~

“Call me daddy.”

“What?” She was suddenly pulling away as if Bucky was made up of scorching metal.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He asked with a small smile, wiping any residue tears on his face.

What she wanted… he was only suggesting that she called him daddy because he thought it was what she wanted? Was this his way of returning the favor because she hugged him after a nightmare?

Now she was really hurt.

Bucky was unknowingly emphasizing the fact that he didn’t want this type of relationship, didn’t want her. He was only doing it to show gratitude.

“No.” She shook her head, getting up from the floor.

“No?” Bucky was genuinely confused as he followed her with his eyes.

He thought he was finally making things right, giving her what she wanted.

“I wanna go back.”

“What?!”

“I wanna go back, please take me back.” Her voice wasn’t even sad or frantic, only small and disheartened.

“Back where?! The couch is right there if you wanna go!” Bucky became angry again.

He felt rejected and he felt small. Was it his touch that made her pull back? Was it the daddy thing? Was he so repulsive?

“No, back, out of here.”

“Back where?! It’s the middle of the night!” Bucky raised his voice in frustration, the nightmare nerves barely out of his body.

Has she lost her mind? Why was she acting like this now? What was he supposed to do to please her and her little mind?

“Take me back to Mrs. Morrison,” she insisted calmly as she collected her slippers and stashed them back in her bag.

He looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, not getting what happened or where he went wrong.

She wasn’t even tearing up, it was like a switch has flipped inside of her.

“Just— just talk to me, okay? What happened?” Bucky fervently needed her to stop, needed to understand.

“Bucky was right. This isn’t gonna work. Please just take me back.”

Her words reopened Bucky’s wounds that her sweet gestures had once closed. What did she mean “isn’t gonna work”? Was he just deemed irredeemable? Again?

“But why?!”

“I just wanna go back.” Was all she gave him; no explanation and no reasons.

Bucky wouldn’t understand.

“You know what? Fine! I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. Go back to the fucking couch, stay away from me!”

She silently got the wolf stuffie, leaving it on the kitchen counter, and went back, no crying and no trials to correct him on his choice of bad words.

Did she really want to leave? Was she really going to leave him come morning?

~

When it was lit up enough, Bucky went for a run, trying to blow off some steam because he felt like he was about to explode.

Why did he let her in? He shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t deserve to get this close, no one did.

Did he seriously think he was accepted and understood by this stranger after 7 days of time together?

No matter what the purpose she was serving was, she could never understand how hard Bucky had had it.

Still, something kept pulling him to her. Something inside of him didn’t want her to leave him. Not now that he was used to her; that he wanted to be used to her.

It's been only a week and Bucky was ready to give human relationships another chance. She made him feel like healing wasn’t a faraway dream.

He was going to try and talk to her one last time and if she still wanted to leave, he would gladly let her.

When he opened his door, she was dressed and waiting for Bucky on the couch, ready to go.

“So you were serious about leaving?” Bucky asks as he kicks his shoes off.

“Yes. Bucky is gonna take me back, right?”

“If that’s really what you want?”

She didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Talk to me like I’m talking to you!” Bucky snapped.

She remained silent this time, not ready for a fight.

“Why do you wanna leave? What did I do?”

“Bucky didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?!”

“That is it.”

“What?!”

“Bucky didn’t do anything. Bucky didn’t even look at Doll’s file. Bucky never even called Doll Doll.” Only now did her tears come back, rolling down her cheeks with ease as she spilled out all that she’s been holding inside of her, “Bucky never wanted Doll.”

“I— I didn’t have time to look at the file. We were in a hurry so I picked the first one in the batch!” Bucky tried to explain, but quickly realized what he'd said.

A sob escaped her at the revelation that she was picked at random, that it could’ve been anyone else and that he really never wanted her.

“That’s not what I meant. I— listen, at first maybe I didn’t want you, but it’s different now!”

“Bucky never even picked me?” She cried, her broken voice crushing his heart.

“I—”

“Please take me back.” She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing.

“But—”

“Please, Bucky, please.”

The way she begged him with teary eyes and a shaky voice made Bucky stand up despite himself to put his shoes back on to take her back.

He might’ve not gotten a chance to explain himself, but he’s done her enough damage and he wasn’t going to continue being the reason she cried when she has been the reason he stopped.

“Let’s go.” Bucky pursed his lips and opened the door for her, her bag in hand, knowing it will never be the same when he came back.

~

“Doll, now that you’re big at least tell me anything, dear. Did he do anything—”

“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Morrison. I promise you. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman with me.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just think I wasn’t ready. I shouldn’t have listed my little self as ready.” She shook her head with a polite smile.

Mrs. Morrison wasn’t buying it, but she couldn’t push her anymore.

“Alright, dear. I’ll go finish the report so Bucky’s therapist can get her copy in the morning.”

“Mrs. Morrison, please,” she held the older woman’s hand imploringly, “Bucky didn’t do but good. Make sure you’re just to him in your report.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you say, dear.” She woman shook her head, giving up the argument before standing up and leaving the room.

It wasn’t the full truth, but she did believe she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to be ready for a long time, so it was better if she just went back home and let herself be grounded a little.

~

“Please, I need to see her.” Bucky begged in front of Mrs. Morrison’s desk.

“Not before you tell me what you did to her, Mr. Barnes!”

“I— I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what she said too, but I know it’s not the truth!”

“Wait, what? I— please let me see her.”

“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What? Where is she?”

“Home,” the woman replied shortly, still mad at Bucky.

“I thought that was where they lived?”

The woman shook her head in disappointment, “you never read your copy of the file, did you?”

Bucky remained silent, too embarrassed to speak. Why did everyone keep asking about the damn file!

“No, they don’t live here. She went back to her life at her house.”

“Well, can you give me the address?”

“Of course, not! That’s private information and you two don’t even seem to have ended on good terms!”

“Please? I need to fix this.”

“You already had time to do that, Mr. Barnes.”

“Well… At least give me a chance to apologize.”

“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” Bucky begged sincerely.

“Anything?” Mrs. Morrison smiled suddenly, making Bucky worry a little, but he meant his words nonetheless.

“Anything.”

~

“Corgi, calm down!” Bucky heard her sweet laugh as she approached the dog’s barks.

“You call your corgi Corgi?” He asked her with a smile.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” Her smile quickly disappeared and a surprised frown replaced it.

“I—”

“Okay, I finished moving the new planters to the right side like you wanted— hello?” The man who cut Bucky off was offering him a hand.

Bucky shook it coldly, his signature frown staring the man down, “hey.”

“I’m Adam,” the man said with a friendly smile.

“Sergeant James Barnes.”

“Bucky, this is Adam, my best friend and neighbor, Adam, this is Bucky… a friend.” She introduced them, not sure of what to say about Bucky.

Meanwhile, Bucky felt something weigh down on him. Was it the fact that he wished she said more than just “a friend”? Was it the presence of this Adam guy? Was that… jealousy?!

“Right, so I’m gonna go now, but call me if you need anything, okay?” Adam said, looking at them both suspiciously.

“I will. Thank you for today, Adam. You’re the best.” She gave the man a hug, smiling from ear to ear as she did it, too.

That was a smile Bucky has never seen.

“I know I know. Bye, Corgi! Bye, Sergeant, nice to meet you!” Adam shouted as he walked out of her porch.

Bucky only nodded even though he knew the man couldn’t see him. He didn’t care if he was rude. Who was that anyway?

She was expecting Bucky to talk when Adam was gone but he just stood there, fiddling with the bag in his hand as he stared at her, so she didn’t say anything either.

She was done initiating. If he came all the way here on his own, he could start a conversation on his own.

“Who was that?”

“Really? You came all the way here to ask me that?”

He stuttered and swallowed, knowing fully well that he had no right to such a question.

“You seem different.”

“You mean big?” She smiled sadly, noticing how much more comfortable Bucky was dealing with her like that.

Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I do have a life and responsibilities after all.” She shrugged, gesturing to her house and the puppy by her feet.

She was disappointed to say the least. First, he gave her a terrible week with him, then he returned her and never looked back and now he was on her porch for no clear reason or explanation, questioning her and her life?

Still, she felt a spark of hope in her chest at the fact that he was standing before her. There must’ve been a reason he came and it couldn’t be so he could fight more.

Bucky felt embarrassed, tongue-tied with guilt as he’s forgotten everything he has been wanting to say.

Then the sky started speaking for him, thundering loudly and making her jump with a hand on her heart.

“Oh, it’s gonna rain. Let’s go inside.”

For some reason, he assumed she was talking to the puppy but when she kept looking at him, Bucky gratefully moved his feet.

~

Her house was the epitome of coziness. It was a true home and it was nothing like Bucky’s.

It had actual furniture, colorful pieces he knew were carefully picked. It had wallpaper and picture frames and kitchenware and cute mugs and plates.

Only now did he know how much shit she could’ve given him for the place he made her stay in, but she didn’t.

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

“I asked about your favorite tea.” She smiled, motioning to a number of varieties on her shelves.

“A coffee would be fine.”

“I’ll just make you earl grey with me.” She shrugged, ignoring his choice for a coffee at this relatively late hour of the evening.

“Hey!”

“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”

Wow! Big her was kind of feisty and it was making Bucky smile.

“What do you have there?” She asked, looking at the small plastic bag that Bucky’s been carrying in his hand.

“Oh, I— this is for you.” He handed her the bag, cheeks burning as he was still brand new when it came to such gestures.

“Oreos! And wolfie!” She called out happily when she looked inside the bag, “thank you so much!” She squeezed the tips of his fingers, smiling at him like he’d gotten her a rare diamond.

When she let go of his hand to open the package and taste the cookies, Bucky felt fear settle in his chest at the idea of having lost her forever.

He watched her try to hide the hug she was giving the white stuffed wolf before slipping it to her curious dog, “careful, Corgi.”

She didn’t lecture or blame him about his treatment of her, yes, nor did she even bring up the week she stayed at his house, but would she be willing to forgive him? Would she give him another chance?

Instead of screaming at him, she was sitting him down on a comfortable couch that had a soft blanket draped over it and serving him tea and cake. What kind of angel was she?

“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you coffee. But taste it first,” she set the tray with tea cups and a plate with a couple of cake slices on the little wooden coffee table and Bucky knew the smell of this tray was the only thing missing from her living room.

Now it was all perfect. It suited her so well.

“I made lime key cake this morning so you’re in luck. It goes really well with earl grey,” she told him, trying to get him to talk, to tell her why he was at her place a week later at 9 in the evening.

But he only nodded.

She didn’t push him. She has done enough coaxing and enough pushing. She didn’t have to do that anymore. If Bucky wanted to talk, he would have to talk on his own.

But he didn’t.

An hour later, she was getting sleepy and the rain was pouring even harder.

“I— I better go.” He stood up, patting his pockets nervously as if to make sure his belongings were in place.

So he came all the way here for nothing? He found her house and rode on his motorcycle all the way here for nothing?

“No way, you can’t drive your motor cycle in this rain!”

“I’m a super soldier, I don’t get sick,” Bucky argued with a smile, heart swelling at the idea that she still cared for him.

“I don’t care. The roads are slippery. It’s dangerous!”

“But—”

“No buts. You can have my bed, let me show you the room,” she said, never giving him space for a reply as she led the way to her bedroom.

“You really don’t have to. I can take the couch.” Or the floor

“The couch is mine. Corgi cries at night and doesn’t like to sleep alone. He’s still just a puppy.”

“Why don’t you just move his crate to your bedroom?”

“Because there’s a system in this house, Sergeant. We’re disciplined people.” She smiled playfully, “good night.”

And just like that, Bucky was alone in her bedroom, with her bed and sheets and blankets, where all the pillows smelled like her hair shampoo and the air was light and sweet. He was in heaven.

Bucky took his jacket off, draping it over the armchair by her vanity and her perfumes caught his eye.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself as he picked up the first bottle and neared it to his nose.

Oh, lord, was this sexy. He imagined himself eating her up if he was to smell this perfume on her skin. It was captivating and it went well with her playful grown up personality.

He tried another bottle and it was a softer scent that he knew all too well. It was the one she wore when she was staying at his house. It smelt angelic, soft and welcoming.

Bucky had to stop himself from going down the line of perfumes because he didn’t think he could keep going.

He’d better go to bed and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the mind attacks started.

Grabbing a pillow that smelled like her, Bucky made himself as comfortable as could be on the wooden floor next to her bed, draping her overly soft blanket on his body.

~

“You call it a disciplined house but you don’t even have a dining table,” Bucky teased as he helped her bring the rest of the plates to the coffee table.

He was right actually. She lied last night. She could easily take Corgi to the bedroom with her, but what kind of hospitality would that be to give Bucky the couch when it was his first time visiting?

“At least my coffee table has space for more than 2 noodle cups,” she teased right back, hardly biting a smile.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her sassiness, smiling like an idiot at how easy she made everything.

Talking was easy around her. Existing was easy around her. Breathing was easy around her. And oh did he miss her.

“So…” she trailed, pouring orange juice in Bucky’s glass.

She couldn’t stay silent anymore. She had to understand why Bucky found her house and came to her after he’d clearly proven he didn’t want her. She wanted and tried to be the bigger person, but if he had something to say, she was ready to hear it now.

“I— I came here to say I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said the words that have been sitting on the back of his tongue for so long.

“Bucky…” she locked her eyes with his for a second, unable to read him, “you didn’t have to come all the way here. I didn’t tell Mrs. Morrison anything.”

The way she reassured him broke his heart. It was as if she wholeheartedly believed that all Bucky cared about was the final report.

But he cared about so much more. He cared about fixing this. He cared about her.

“I know. I did.”

“What?!”

“I told her everything.”

“Bucky— why?”

“I had to make it right.”

“Well, what did she say?” She chewed her lower lip nervously, worried everything has been ruined for Bucky.

“She made me serve a few hours at the institution and only when she got everyone’s approval did she agree to give me your address.”

“Everyone’s approval of what?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of my storytelling skills,” Bucky replied proudly, putting some cheese on her plate for her when he noticed her freeze.

“Your storytelling— what?!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a huge smile breaking on her face.

“I spent a few nights reading bedtime stories to the residents there and I’ll have you know I did a pretty good job, though most of them wanted lullabies so I stole some of yours—”

“Hold on! You, Bucky Barnes, read bedtime stories and sang lullabies to littles at the institution?”

“Yes, I did.” Bucky nodded with a shrug.

“You did all of this so you could have my address?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I missed you, doll.”

“Doll?” Her eyes instantly teared up at the sole use of the name coming from him.

“And to tell you that I got to meet everyone that was available at the same time you were and none of them could ever compare. They’re all amazing people, but none of them made me feel like you’ve made me feel in that short week,” Bucky admitted softly, eyes hesitant to leave his fingers.

“I was terrible to you and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry. I know now that I should’ve been better.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” she said with a content smile, simply satisfied with his presence as she passed him the bread. That apology was genuinely enough for her.

“No, doll, it’s not. I— I did the opposite of everything a caregiver should’ve done. It's just… you made me nervous, scared.” Bucky admitted.

“I scared you?” She scoffed in surprise. She wasn’t expecting this one.

“Yes. The way you were fully yourself, the way you weren’t afraid to show it, the way you did the effort to relieve yourself of whatever you were suffering from, it all scared me. How you openly cried when you needed to. It scared me because I didn’t know how to be like you. I didn’t know how to choose trust and kindness again after everything that had happened to me. Your courage scared me.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Tears rolled down her face as she desperately felt the need to hold him and kiss every inch of him better, “why didn’t you talk to me? I would’ve understood.”

“I tried… that day… but talking about it made me wanna close up on myself even more. It made me more scared. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. And I can’t help it,” Bucky’s voice trembled as he fought his own tears.

He couldn’t believe he said those words out loud to someone else.

She left her seat and went to sit next to Bucky on the couch, her hands finding his and holding onto them for dear life.

“But when I came home to an empty living room after dropping you off at the institution, I knew what I'd lost. I realized what an asshole I’ve been to you. And I missed you. I missed you so much when I closed the door and you weren’t on the couch looking at me,” he poured his heart out to her with tears in his eyes.

She squeezed his hand more, trying to hug his fingers with hers but they were too short to fully cover his hands.

“You don’t have to give me another chance, but I felt like I could’ve died if I didn’t tell you how sorry I was and am. I’m sorry I didn’t give myself time to understand you and appreciate you for everything that you were, doll. I’m sorry I was so stupid and let you slip away from my hands. I’m sorry I was undeserving of your kindness and softness and love,” Bucky told her with tears pouring down his face, matching hers as she finally got to listen to all that he had to say.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a good daddy to you and I’m sorry I didn’t try to learn. It’s all my fault because you, doll, deserve someone who would bust their ass trying for you,” Bucky sighed, “but if you’d let me, I’ll spend as much time as you’ll allow me doing that.”

“Thank you for finding me.” She threw herself in his arms and Bucky felt his soul come back to him as he held her tight to his body.

“Thank you for welcoming me back in despite everything I’ve put you through. I know I don’t deserve it.” Bucky squeezed her closer, the smell of her hair calming his senses.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled back to wipe his tears away, giving him a smile prettier than anything he’s ever seen, “now let’s eat before the eggs go cold.” She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the spoon and putting some eggs on Bucky’s plate.

“Does that smile mean you forgive me, doll?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“I forgive you, Sarge.” She smiled at him, what was in her heart showing in her eyes.

“You won’t regret it,” he promised, putting some food in his mouth to stop any upcoming tears.

They ate silently in peace for a second before Bucky spoke out.

“Seriously though, who was that Adam guy?!”

“Way to ruin a moment, Bucky,” she teased.

But Bucky didn’t smile. He remained silent waiting for her answer with a tiny frown.

“I told you he’s my best friend and he lives next door.”

 Bucky’s frown deepened slightly. So that man got to see her every day huh?

“With his wife,” she added, biting back a smile as she watched his face relax.

“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”

“I couldn’t help it. This is all new to me and I’m having fun!”

“Does he come here a lot?”

“Yes, Bucky. It’s what friends do, they visit,” she laughed.

“I don’t see Sam that often and we’re fine.” He shrugged unconvincingly, making her laugh more.

“He’s a good man, you’ll come to like him. Plus, he helped me a lot those past weeks and took care of my garden and Corgi while I was away so I owe him.”

“So I’m seeing a farmer now?” Bucky teased.

“Oh look who’s not so quiet anymore!” She teased back with a giggle, “at least my fridge never runs out of tomatoes.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked, his face serious again.

She nodded in reply, a smile gracing her patient features.

“Why did it bother you so much when I told you to call me daddy?”

She hummed, letting go of her fork.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”

“It made me feel like you were returning a favor. Doing something because you felt like you had to do it, like it was the right thing to do, but not because you really wanted it. Yes, I wanted to call you daddy with my whole heart, but only if you wanted it too. It hurt because at the time I knew you still hadn’t accepted me for who I was and was just saying that so you could repay me for the hug I was giving you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky shock his head in remorse, “I will never understand how you managed to put up with me for a whole week.”

“It’s because I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, Bucky. I know what it feels like to be unloved and unaccepted, especially by those who should give you unconditional love.”

“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.

She nodded with a similar smile, “I know what it’s like to be more than your pain and anger with others only seeing the snapping and frowning. Little me doesn’t want anyone else to feel unloved like that because she knows how bad it all is. So she gives. She’s patient and she’s kind and sometimes I don’t think I could’ve accessed that part of myself if it wasn’t for her.”

“How so?”

“Grown ups are more cautious because they always have the consequences to things like vulnerability right in front of their eyes. We’re more likely to be afraid to show our hearts because we know we could get hurt bad because of it. Little me isn’t scared of that. She wakes up brand new every day. She wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts her love to do the magic.”

“You’re an amazing person.” Bucky raised her hand to his lips to press a timid kiss without much thought, “I guess I have a lot to learn from you, doll.”

“Don’t say stuff like that!” She whined playfully, cheeks going hot as she turned away shyly, “plus, do you have a death wish?” She raised a playful eyebrow.

“It’s true though— what?”

“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she teased, reminding him of the time she kissed his cheek on her first day at his house.

Bucky smiled sheepishly, whispering out an apology even though he knew she was joking.

Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.

She’s been coughing a little here and there since morning, but he didn’t think anything of it.

She shook her head, still coughing as she ran to the bathroom, needing to find any sort of cold medicine. She knew what this was.

Bucky hurried behind her, “what’s wrong?”

In a second, she was bending forward, coughing her heart out.

“Are you okay?!”

She shook her head again, trying to calm down, “I thought it was just a sore throat but it’s getting worse.”

“Let’s get you to the doctor,” Bucky said, worry eating away inside his chest as he watched her cough more.

He quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, leading her out to her car.

~

“It’s because I let you sleep on the couch, isn’t it? You got cold,” Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he paced around the room.

He hasn’t stopped blaming himself since they’d returned from the doctor’s. She caught a bad flu and Bucky quickly believed it was his fault.

“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”

“You don’t have to defend me, doll. It’s because of me. I’ve managed to hurt you again. And I don’t even use beds. I should’ve never let you sleep out here.”

“Hey! Calm down please! It’s not you... It was me.” She released a sigh, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when the rain got even worse after you went to bed. I thought I’d come out and cover the motorcycle so that it wouldn’t get all muddy and you’d have a hard time cleaning it,” she explained, fiddling with her fingers.

“That’s still because of me,” Bucky sighed.

“Come on, it’s not like you made me!” Her hoarse voice tried to reassure.

Bucky only ran his fingers through his messy hair again, not knowing what to say or do to make this one right.

“Bucky, please, I’m sick. All I want is for you to stay beside me and not blame yourself.” Her frown was back to her beautiful face and Bucky didn’t like it, “can you do that for me?”

He didn’t like how sick and scratchy her voice sounded either so he wasn’t about to make talk more with a throat like that.

“I’ve already proven I suck at taking care of you, doll,” Bucky chuckled sadly.

“Do you want forgiveness or not?” She joked.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

“Is it dangerous for you though? I don’t want you to get it too.”

“I can’t get sick, remember?” Bucky smiled, rubbing her back lightly, “I’m your nurse now.”

“Is that so?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.

“You’re definitely not dressed for it,” she teased, giving him her tongue.

“Oh, are you into that kinda thing, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile she has never seen before on his pink lips.

“Bucky!” She squealed, hiding her face with the covers, making Bucky laugh.

The sound was heaven to her ears and despite being awfully sick, she couldn’t wish for a better outcome for Bucky’s visit.

“Shit, here it comes again,” she gulped before starting another fit of harsh coughing.

“Bad word,” he whispered to her, making her smile tiredly as she continued coughing.

~

“I don’t wanna go,” she whined as Bucky gently forced her arm inside her jacket.

“We have to. You need your shots to get better.” Bucky covered her head with the hood of her jacket to make sure she was warm before leading her outside.

“But shots hurt,” she whined more with teary eyes.

“I’ll be right there, remember?”

“That’s not gonna do anything!” She whined further.

“Hey!” Bucky pretended to be hurt as he helped her inside the car.

She sighed with a grateful smile, “fine, hugs or I don’t go.”

“Hugs it is.” Bucky smiled back, taking seat next to her before starting the car.

~

“No, no, no, please. I’m not ready, I don’t want it. Give me pills instead, give me pills,” she cried in Bucky’s chest as she saw the doctor get the shot ready.

“Doll, it’s okay, I promise. I got you,” Bucky said, feeling as helpless as ever.

He wished he could get the shots for her, but it wasn’t possible. He could feel something different about her. She looked like she was slipping into her little headspace and it made Bucky nervous, oh so nervous, that he might mess up and not be able to deal with her again.

She barely calmed down enough for Bucky to help her small hands lower her pants just enough for the doctor to have space to push the needle in.

She moaned in pain as she hid her face in Bucky’s chest, crying for real when she felt the strong medicine inside the needle spread inside her.

“It stings. It stings bad,” she sobbed, hands clutching Bucky’s shirt as he covered her behind again and made sure she was properly covered.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’re going home now, it’s over,” Bucky cooed, rubbing and patting her back with his big hand.

“It hurts, daddy,” she sniveled in his ear and Bucky froze.

Those innocent teary eyes looking up at him like that made him feel a lot of things. But most importantly, they made him feel like he could do this. He could take care of this sweet girl without messing up this time. Her love would show him how.

“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”

~

part V

~

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[teyums]

a/n: cats are so funny because they genuinely think they’re doing something nice for you when they drop a mouse at your feet as an offering and it’s actually the opposite. i was watching my cat play with her little toy and it just brought the terrifying memory back to me bc WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WANT THIS? As soon as the idea came i wrote it, Neteyam just seems like the type LMAOO 😭

neteyam x human!reader

It takes Neteyam quite a while to understand the difference between Na’vi women and human women, especially the difference in what you do and don’t like. But you can’t blame him, you don’t look like his kind, you don’t smell like his kind, hell, you don’t even dress like them.

The Na’vi’s behavior very closely resembles that of a house cat on earth— you’ve noted after studying how Neteyam’s emotions portray themselves through his expressive tail, how his ears dip when he’s angry or perk up when he’s excited, or how he purrs when you finally agree to sitting in his lap instead of your chair while you finish up your work for the day. With the innate behavior of the two creatures mirroring each other almost completely, it’s no surprise that this also heavily factors into what they deem as ‘gifts’ for their favorite human.

Just as housecats will fetch their humans dead animals or rodents as an offering to them, the Na’vi way isn’t too far from that. You hated so much as looking at dead animals, let alone being near them, but when your childhood cat, Loki, used to bring field mice into the home and drop them at the foot of your bed, at least it was small enough for you to scoop into a grocery bag with pinched eyes and a hand over your nose while you fought back the tears of sheer terror.

Most of Neteyam’s catlike nature rendered adorable to you, and while you were more than willing to learn more about the ways of his people, this new custom he’d introduced you to had your heart dropping out of your ass like a brick and your soul exiting your body as if you could do without it. It’s when he shows up to the lab, a dead boar strung over his back with the biggest, toothiest smile you’ve ever seen spread on his lips until a bloodcurdling scream wipes it clean off his expression.

“Oh my God, ‘Teyam, get it away, get it away!” You shrill, so startled you almost tumble out of your desk chair, the hairs on your neck standing straight up as you divert your attention from the animal that’s almost the size of your body, a panicked hand splayed over your rumbling chest and the other extended out, palm towards him.

“What? You don’t like it? Should I have gone with a hexapede (deer) instead?” His brows gather in the center of his forehead when he steps closer and you immediately yelp and scoot back, the metal wheels of your chair screeching against the smooth tile with the effort of your retreat. He’s wholeheartedly confused, because any woman of his kind would find such a gesture as this one beyond thoughtful, and even romantic. Catching one of these things isn’t easy, and a clean kill with an arrow through the heart as to not rupture or damage the meat of the animal is even harder.

“I even skinned it for you!” He urges with a pout.

Your involuntary squeal interrupts his attempt to convince you as you fan your face with your hands, but it seems as if he’s still having trouble understanding.

“Perhaps I should have roasted it as well…” He ponders to himself with a hand pinching his chin, deep in contemplation while he keeps his catch over his shoulder and his eyes cast toward the wall, completely missing the way your trembling hands scramble over your desk for something to launch at him.

“GET IT OUT!”

He winces at the pitch of your shriek, astounded by how that loud of a sound could come out of such a tiny being. His brows raise before he quickly ducks to dodge the one-subject notebook that flaps past his head in a blur of fluttering paper, and he hurriedly obliges your wishes with a few steps back and a rushed ‘okay, okay!’.

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗

©teyums 2023

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

[officialabortive]

Fostering wolfdog!Bakugou would lead do premature greys, methinks.

Bakugou's only here in the first place because he was found incapacitated with his head wound up in a snare wire. Even after treatment he couldn't be released back to the wild due to the increasing number of hybrid poachers. The vet recommended a good fostering program, the one you happened to be volunteering at.

He's in no way domestic and will bite at the hand who feeds him. Literally.

You were told to keep the muzzle on him, not that you'd be able to get close enough to remove it in the first place. It's cold metal bars are clearly irritating to have on his face all day, but there can't be any risk of bites before he's gotten all his shots.

Having grown among grass and soil, bakugou finds the things In your house incredibly intriguing. He spent over an hour opening and closing a closet door, just trying to figure out how it works. The concept of a light switch looked to be exceptionally fascinating. Their's no way of knowing what's going on in his head but with the way he went room to room investigating each light that bewildered look said all. This big pup probably thinks you're holding little peices of the sun captive. You can tell he is obviously seeing spots from staring directly at them for so long when he starts bumping into things. One can only hope his vision hasn't been impaired.

Just as any wild animal would, bakugou likes to... mark his territory...

Unfortunately for you, the place the hybrid deemed best to be "his" is none other then your bedroom. The room that holds most of your day to day essentials. The room that is now inaccessible due to the growing beast atop your his bed. Even with the muzzle restricting his attacks, those claws —even though clipped by the vet— could separate flesh from bone. That's not a risk worth taking for the sake of a change of clothes. Your only option was to wear the laundry on top of the washing machine that you'd been to lazy to fold and put away.

[milksuu]

pairing: 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

tw: mild suggestive themes, minor injury, age gap (in the mythical sense)

notes: don't know why but i wanted to try something original? if i make a part 2, def. will be nsfw. (oh and, i know sirens are usually part bird rather than fish, but we're going with the fish lol.)

Yandere!Siren who lures you by ethereal hymn from the safety of the beach sand, smirking when all those pretty little sea shells drop to your feet once you hear his voice. your hands reach for him, and his scales glitter in the dusk light as they take yours---so cold yet inviting. the biting waters tickling your skin with goosebumps. your enchanted giggles a beautiful song before a feast.

Yandere!Siren who guides your spellbound body below the shimmering waves, into a blue stasis where only you and him exist. he takes your cheeks, warm against the ice of his hands, bringing his mouth to yours with every intent to feast on your body. your lashes curl closed, and bubbles rest like pearls against your lashes, completely at bliss listening to his death song.

Yandere!Siren who stops before he grazes the heat of your lips. behind the drowning fractals of sunlight weaving through his eyes, an overlapping memory crashes against him. this wasn't the first time he's met you; you were a mere child then, and had found him during one of your silly human adventures. you'd freed him from an entrapment of netting and barb. but dared to insult him by calling him a 'pretty lobster', all while waving him off with a wooden-toy sword—a promised threat, no doubt. if it weren't for the fact you had saved him from poachers, he would've eaten you just for comparing him to those lower-living crusted things.

Yandere!Siren who curses and clicks at himself, for having even a shred of reluctance to devour your kind. he reasons a life for a life is a fair debt to pay, regardless of vitriol, and would pay it by sparing yours. he floats your listless body to the surface, and weaves you through the lapping waves back to shore.

Yandere!Siren who hesitates to dive back into the waters. not able to discern the rise and falls of your chest. he wonders if he'd held you beneath for far too long. long enough for sea water to be kept prisoner in your lungs. he drags himself to your side on the sand, hovering intimately above you. he presses his long fingers into your chest, finding your heart beat; soft but present. and although shallow, he observes the rise and fall of your chest. he wouldn't dare acknowledge the small sigh of relief in his throat.

Yandere!Siren who's gaze then roams your sun kissed skin and nipples melting through your soaked linen dress. but doesn't know why heat flushes through his tail, his heart throb at his fingertips, and scales shimmer a dusty pink. the drops falling from his hair pitter-patter on your lips, stirring you awake. he inhales sharply when you share a glance. your face and lips gilded by the afternoon glow.

"Pretty lobster..." you whisper dreamily, eyes still swimming on the lingering notes of his melody.

Yandere!Siren who half-flustered and half-scorned, wants to surrender to the reflex of plunging his sharp teeth into the suppleness of your throat. to mark you for this moment of not only sparing your life, but then having the gall to insult him—again. before he can commit to the idea, he hears the clanking of metal and footfalls of sentrymen descending the beach cliffs.

"Princess!" The soldier's call out. "Princess please, by orders of the King, return at once."

Yandere!Siren who hisses and nips at your hand in compromise to his deadlier wishes for you. He then thrusts himself back into the frigid waters, swimming a safe distance away from shore. when he deems himself veiled behind a jagged rock, he leans to watch, damning himself for certain curiosities. he watches with narrowed lashes as the guards help you to your feet. some patting the sand from your dress, one draping a shawl over your drenched form, and another bandaging your bitten hand.

Yandere!Siren who stiffens when you turn a head over your shoulder, and just like before, wave at him with a smile. that indignant human grin of yours, possibly cursing him with joy. he simmers at the thought, his face warm again, and slowly sinks himself below the surface tension. and to his own annoyance, wondering when you would come to bother him again.

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Kids Anger Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 ~ Part 4

Kid X Fem Reader X Killer

Kid hasn’t been the same since finding you. He hasn’t even been his normal angry self. It’s like he’s become a shell of who he was and Killer can’t seem to snap him out of it. Killer was the one to break down you cell door and pick up your limp body, yelling at Kid the entire time to snap out of it. It wasn’t until the room was empty and Kid had realized he was staring at the stained floor that he started moving again.

        The cell was clearly your torture chamber, the thought of someone hurting you sent him into a blinding rage. He knew Killer had taken you so he could wreck as much havoc as he wanted without care. He doesn’t remember much of what happened after Killer had taken you away, but he does know that the entire crews Bounties had gone up after they had left the island.

        Killer gripping you limp body on the other hand rushed to get you back to the ship, there was no way anyone on this island would dare to treat you, especially not after hearing the destruction that had started behind him. The Navy base had been made of metal and steel and he could hear Kid using his power to decimate the area. But that wasn’t his concern right now, you had started to turn cold.

        Jumping back onto the ship he ran towards the room they deemed the infirmary. Killer had thought it overkill to have an entire room dedicated to medicine and first aid when you had first come aboard but he couldn’t be more glad that you had been insistent on the semi-sterilized room. He passed Hip on his way in who had quickly followed them to help with whatever injuries you had.

        No one on board was a skilled doctor, everyone knew basic first aid and a couple knew how to stitch or tourniquets a limb good enough. Hip by far was the most qualified to be called the ships doctor but even that was a stretch, sure she had been the one to cauterize Kids arm when it had been ripped off but it was still a far cry from being knowledge or skilled.

        None the Less she gets to work closing up your wounds, she starts by stopping blood flow to your shoulder, a tight tourniquet, to make sure the infection doesn’t spread further. Taking her time to slowly look at the wound before she realizes the Bullets still in and goes to fish it out.

        Your body, while cold, was covered in sweat and every movement and prod made you face slightly contort, a good sign in Killers mind as he got more supplies out to be used. He quickly walked out to inform everyone to be prepared to leave the second Kid gets back before going back in to assist Hip.

        As he walks in he sees her pour whiskey into the wound and sees you flinch violently at the sudden pain. Despite being on the verge of death it seems you still have some fight left in you. Hip demands Killer help flip you over and without a thought he does so. Hip gasps at the deep gashes littering you back, and what skin left stained a deep purple almost black. Killer is the first one to start treating your back as Hip gets her bearings again, grabbing a needle and some thread to go in after Killer disinfects the wounds.

~~~

        Kid had come back after night had fallen, passing out the second he gets on deck, and just as soon as he passes out the rest of the crew is working at leaving the hidden cove. Killer could feel the vessel move and he was almost glad it had taken Kid this long to get back, there were more injuries than he had thought and it had been a couple hours since they started working on you.

        It was only once the night became the darkest that they had finished bandaging you up, your breathing shallow still. The rest of the crew seemed relieved that Kid and Killers mission to retrieve you had been a success but it became all the more worrisome when Hip came out of the room covered in blood and exhausted.

        She’s the one that set up a schedule to make sure you were never alone. And as much as Killer wanted to move you to an actual bed, he was afraid to move you. He muttered under his breathe, begging you to just wake up, this had been hard enough when he went through it with Kid. But he didn’t have the reassurance he had back then, he believed Kid would make it through his ordeal, he was only missing an arm, you on the other hand… You were weaker than them, and your injuries seemed so much more severe.

        As he’s leaning over you, not even daring to hold your hand in fear of harming you more, the door opens and shuts. A small huff and creaking of chairs lets the blonde man know that the other was finally there. “She’s alive” Kid whispers, his voice slightly wavering. Killer feels the red-head shake slightly and leans on him.

        “Hip thinks we should amputate her arm” Killer says, his voice weak and dry, “She. The infection, she thinks its too much” The bandages on you were already slightly dirty, and no doubt they’d be changing them again soon.

        Kid lets out a weak chuckle, “We could twin.” Killer also seemed to let out an amused huff at the idea. Neither of them looked at each other and silence feel upon them as they both watched you chest slightly move with your labored breathing.

~~~

        It’s been a week and you didn’t show signs of getting better, but you also didn’t show signs of getting worse. You were on the constant edge of Life and Death but for the most part you had seemed stable. Kid spent his days silent, unusual for how he normally was. His only direction given to the crew was to go someplace where there was a doctor, any other interaction was from the rambunctious crew checking to make sure he was alright himself, and eating.

        Killer had taken it upon himself to be in charge of changing your bandages, taking extra time to check every wound and using more alcohol to disinfect anything he deemed dirty, lightly dabbing at anything that had continued to bleed or somehow re-opened. Kid could barely watch, he hated this, he hated you, he hated how weak you had become. Where was his feisty little mouse? The one that wasn’t afraid to hit him even if you knew it would hurt him. Laying in front of him was an empty shell that he was terrified to touch, he just wanted you back.

        At some point through out the week Kid had convinced Killer to move you to an actual bed, to their bed. It didn’t matter that they’d have to change sheets often to keep them clean for you, nor did it matter that it meant neither of them had a bed to lay on, both of them would rather sleep on the floor before making you any more uncomfortable.

        Quincy would come often enough with fluids and somehow got you to drink by holding your nose shut, the first time she had done it Kid nearly attacked her, thinking she was trying to suffocate you. But once the misunderstanding was resolved He’d reluctantly sit back and watch you swallow in order to gasp for air. Killer had assumed it was a good sign.

        It wasn’t until Kid had finally decided to lightly grip your hand that a moan had left your lips. Killer had jumped from his chair hearing it and joined you two on the other side of the bed. A small squeeze to Kids hand had made him reinvigorated and nearly screaming for you to wake up only for Killer to hit his head to be more quiet.

        But just as quickly as you had given them both hope, you had sent them over the edge when you broke out into a fever. Your brows furrowing as you took a turn for the worse. Kid had gotten a part of his soul back and went running out, demanding they reach an island by the morning and Killer took to work to wipe you down of sweat, changing your bandages as often as the sweat soaked through them.

        Despite it all the two had become exhausted and it was Hip who had decided to lock them out of their own room, demanding they get some sleep as she looked over you for the night. Begrudgingly, they both agreed, opting to not break the door open and instead heading to the rec room where there were some hammocks and a couch.

        As they both got situated, Killer on the couch and Kid in a hammock, a foot placed on the ground the silence overwhelmed them. “What if.” Kid started, staring at the ceiling, “What if she doesn’t wake up?” Killer could hear how broken Kid was, “All because I couldn’t shut myself up-“ Silence filled the air as Kid refused to let a sob out, “and didn’t realize when our mouse was hurt.”

Killer stayed silent, not wanting to reveal his own emotions, but instead got up and somehow squeezed himself into the already occupied hammock. Kid seemed to breathe in, holding his breathe for a second before laughing a bit, “We’re not kids anymore Killer- We don’t fit like this” Moving slightly to try and get more comfortable.

“I can leave if you wan-“

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Kid's voice was demanding yet weak as he placed his head on Killer's chest.

[krypticcafe]

Happy Super Late Valentines </3

rating: PG-13/teen

pairing: harry warden/the miner x gn!reader

warning(s): reader had a boyfriend, brief mention of cheating, small mentions of blood, violence, and gore, and harry being scary, for j u s t a bit.

synopsis: you had a shitty valentines day, and harry comes to pick up the leftovers.

a/n: okay, I haven't written fanfic in years, so please excuse me if this comes off as an uber corny dumpster fire. I'm just trying to have fun :'))))

So what if it's Valentine's Day?

So what if you wanted to spend a peaceful time with your boyfriend at home with some baked cookies?

So what if you accidentally burnt those cookies?

So what if you were so paranoid that it felt like someone was watching you the entire time?

So what if your boyfriend pushed asked you to go with him and his friends in some spooky abandoned mineshaft?

So what if you were surrounded by couples making out in a cramped, dark, and cold nooks and crannies and one of them happened to be your best friend and your now ex-boyfriend?

So what if you lashed out, dumped him, stormed out of the cave only to get more lost due to the heat of your anger?

It's fine. It's whatever. Could be worse.

Or at least that's what you told yourself to cope with the shredding of your heart and the burning tears.

Oooooh, but that bastard! The audacity to cheat on you, with her of all people! And he was such an idiot to do so after inviting you to come! Did he not think for a fraction of a second that he'd get caught? Or did all the blood in his brain just go to his dic-

God, what were you thinking, coming here with those guys, giving him the time of day?

Looking back on things, you realized you dodged not a bullet, but a whole missile. But did it reslly have to be on Valentines Day of all days? The world really is just that cruel.

And it was about to get even more cruel.

Screams, maybe half a dozen of them, echoed and bounced off the walls of the cave, finding their way to you. At first, you assumed the group was messing with each other. Either way, you could care less.

Then they started growing more frequent and louder, and you scowled.

'In here after that fiasco? Really? Christ, I'm never going out with any of them ever aga-'

Then you heard a blood-curdling scream. Suddenly, you started to prefer the possibility of what you originally thought they were doing.

Your head whipped to the tunnel left of you as you heard a scream far too familiar, and your body began to curl in on itself as you sat in a ball in the corner.

Footsteps began beating from the same corridor where the scream originated.

Anticipating the worst, you wiped the blur from your eyes, took a deep breath, and braced your hand over a nearby stone that you deemed good enough to buy you some time.

The footsteps grew louder, but remained at a painstakingly steady pace, as if to tease your demise. There was a loud thunk! before the screech of metal scraping rock pierced your ears. You were half expecting to see the grim reaper at this point.

Instead, you were greeted with someone else who might as well be the same person. They were tall, broad, and clad in nothing but a full set of miner's gear. Not a single speck of skin peeked past any part of their clothing, and their mask even managed to hide their eyes behind the dark lens. With what little brightness there was provided by the dim cave lights, you just barely noticed the glistening of the blood on their uniform and the way it dripped down the tip of their pickaxe.

You recognized him as the man from the town's local urban legend. It always seemed cheesy and way too cliche to you but here you were, face to face with the man, the myth himself. Would he make you another one of his victims tonight? Would your death become just another story told at the campfire? The thought made your stomach turn.

The two of you stayed in silence, your hand still gripping the stone while you stared at the miner, searching for any movement that suggesting that you'd be the next one to eat metal. But all you could see was the way his chest heaved, rising and falling from what you understood as the cause of all those screams from earlier.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Clank!

To your surprise, he set down his pickaxe and approached you, kneeling down to your curled form. His head tilted slightly, as if to get a better look at you. A part of you wished you could see his eyes, wondered where he stared, why he stared. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you froze like a deer in headlights, squeezing your eyes shut when he lifted a hand and-

... wiped a tear on your cheek.

You didn't even remember the stone until he pried it from your hand and interlaced your fingers with his, pulling you up with him and into his embrace as he lightly petted your head.

Was he... comforting you?

It would've worked well if uh, he didn't reek of blood and dust.

Staying still as if your life depended on it (it probably did), you let him do as he pleased.

He pulled away from you but kept a gentle grip on your hand, nodding his head in the direction of the tunnels. You couldn't be bothered to question anything anymore, shock was the only thing that kept the fatigue from catching up.

He led you down countless tunnels and caverns, passing by bodies mangled beyond recognition, except for one. You were pretty sure that one was the cretin.

The entire time, the hold his hand had on yours was nothing short of soft and comforting, it almost warmed your heart. Almost.

Eventually, you found where he was taking you, back to the entrance of the mineshaft. He let go of your hand and urged you to the opening. Hesitantly stepping forward, you paused and looked back. He still stood there, though less menacing than he was before despite all the blood and dirt caked on him.

"I- uh... thank you."

Your voice was shaky from processing the events of the past few hours and you had no requirement to thank him, but you felt like you'd regret it if you didn't. The sentiment came across, and he nodded, reaching up again to trace a thumb on your cheek before giving it an affectionate pinch. You watched as he turned and left back into the abyss of the mines, disappearing into the cavern.

It was still dark outside, but you knew the way back from here. You were no longer shaking, nor seething, and the walk back home was oddly peaceful for it being so late in the night.

So what if you might want to see him again?

Bonus

The next morning, you woke up with your eyes feeling raw and your feet sore, but work calls and you had to get up nonetheless.

Nursing a cup of coffee, you checked your door for any mail, instead finding a bright red, heart-shaped box at your doorstep. Fortunately, it didn't contain any beating human heart as the urban legends told, but interestingly enough, a single wild rose and a card.

"Happy Valentines, won't you be mine? - Harry"

[amphitriteswife]

Do more of ror school au hcs please 🙏🏻 💓 💕 💗

📝✂️Ror/ Snv characters as Students📝✂️

Also am I spotting a fellow Alien stage fan??? @miserable-homo-momo

Hades:

☠️He’s a top student. On top of most of his classes, and he’s a senior.

☠️ Mostly hangs out with Qin or his brothers. He doesn’t necessarily have friends but a lot of ppl want to be tho, only he focuses on being a big brother.

☠️ Listens to a lot of music tastes. Like his play list is full of mood swings. It contains: Classic music, Pop Music, HipHop, Heavy metal ect. It kinda depends on what he feels tbh. A few of his faves would be: Tupac, Beyonce, Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B and Mozart.

☠️Drives a nice car which made him very popular. He used it to take his brothers everywhere but he ended up sharing it between his brothers and bought a motorbike of his own🤭

☠️ He had a lot of piercings: Ears, lip, Eyebrow…nipple…But he looks good and knows how to pull it off. Like just Imagine it. Gah dayum

☠️ He actually skipped class?? You wouldn’t expect it from him but he did skip class. It’s not often but once in a blue moon. Most of the times it’s cause he wants to hang out with his brothers.

☠️ goes to all the house parties. As good of a student he is, he also likes going out. So most of the time he gets invited to parties or hang outs.

☠️ most ppl thought he was a player but ended up being one of the ppl that married their high school sweetheart. He might have dated some ppl but they weren’t flings but actually legit relationships

☠️ probably the one person that brings snacks or drinks for the class if they have a field trip or just a hot school day y’know. Like just imagine it being a hot sunny day and you still have a lot of lessons to follow and boom, hades brings ice cream for the class?? Life safer fr🙏

☠️ He probably likes History, astronomy and psychology. He kind of has random subject but he just chose what he deems as interesting. He only likes the 🪐⭐️🌠🌌 and not the math in astronomy.

☠️ He cooks on field trips that last more days. Only if its’s necessary tho. Mainly because he’s rich enough to afford going to restaurants or the school handles it.

☠️ he’s the therapist friend fr. Genuinely knows when there’s something wrong and asks, not in public tho. He doesn’t judge but actually listens to you. He also offers comfort if you need it. What a goat

☠️ class president. Even though he didn’t want to be. Most ppl voted for him for the above stated reasons. And because he’s kind of a big brother type.

☠️ man could do anything and he wouldn’t get into trouble. Mostly because all the teachers love him as a student so shawty has a good reputation.

☠️ He’s bad at art yet has very nice cursive handwriting. Probably because he takes extra poetry lessons. Or he practiced it till he was satisfied.

☠️ Is in the chess club with Beelzebub and the birb. They often play and even have participate in Tournaments.

☠️ He’s the type that also chose languages as subjects, so like German, French, Italian, Chinese, Latin and ofc Greek. Probably because his ass has a photographic memory

☠️ doesn’t eat cafeteria food and actually goed off campus to buy food. If some of his lessons are canceled he just goes to restaurants or shopping streets to kill time

☠️ Actually doesn’t rly do his homework. He only does it in classes that check homework or give bonuses for it, otherwise he usually doesn’t do it. Besides he only studies like 2 weeks before the week where all the tests are. Unless he knows he needs more time for a certain subject. Then he catches up

☠️ Went to Spain, Germany and France because he choose those subjects and teased his younger brothers for it. He did buy them a requested item for each of em. Not Zeus cause he requested a Latina babe.

☠️ He has a place in school where he always sits when he aint off campus. So if ya eveer try to find him he’s probably there.

☠️ graduated w honors fr. Mosy of the teacher wrote nice things about them and held wonderful speeches for him since he was a good student. His quote in the year book was sum like ‘👍’.

☠️ He probably went on luxurious vacations and posted the pictures on his insta. He dont do snap or any other form of social media.

Buddha

🪷 the student that doesn’t really care about grades but does get good ones.

🪷 He’s usually eats in class. But for some reason the teachers allow it cause he ain’t causing a mess. Or because he’s actually a prince and could buy the school in a second.

🪷 Definitely choose a language as a subject and geography cause man knows a lot about different cultures. My goat

🪷 Definitely a music lover. You can always catch him with one AirPod in his ear. Probably has the latest phone too cause he richy rich.

🪷 Goes to on lot of vacations. Like every break he’s somewhere. Japan, Greece, Italy, Singapore, Canada, Brazil, he goes to many places. Brodie might start doing them travel vlogs atp

🪷 He has lots of Social Media’s. Tiktok, Tenten, insta, snap, Discord??🤨 , Be real ect. His tiktok is just goofy ahh videos while his insta is usually pics of his vacations. Like you know them influencers who have them nice ahh pics? He has that, but he just aint a influencer

🪷 Never takes notes in class. So you might wanne share em w him if you have em. In return he’ll let you munch on his snacks.

🪷 BIG supporter of Cultural day. Like he already sighed a petition and complained that every school should have one. He even offered to host them and buy stuff for it.

🪷 biggest class skipper together with Qin. He’s either off campus buying stuff, at home cause brodie didn’t wanne come or he just bailed mid way with the ‘can i use the restroom?’ Tactic. His ass almost got into trouble w the school cause of the many times he was absent.

🪷 If you have a presentation with him. Yall will score perfectly. Especially if it’s a subject he knows a lot about, brodie will carry you like how Eren carried that stone in Shiganshina (aot reference 🤨)

🪷 Deals candy in school. Like you know how some schools have the policy that their cafeteria doesn’t sell unhealthy stuff? And the stuff is overpriced asf. Yeah he broke that by buying a lot of different candies and letting ppl buy em for €1 no matter what the OG price was. He may or may not have gotten into trouble but man did not care

🪷 LOVESS LOVES LOVES school trips. He always buys snacks for em. He usually researches the place where yall is going so that he can divide the time and go see the whole place instead of just only doing the assignment.

🪷 He is friends w actually almost everyone. Almost. Except Loki. But it’s difficult. Loki HATES him. While Buddha is kinda like 😒. It got so bad that Loki had to switch classes fr. Now one may ask why? Buddha worked together Sigyn that’s why

🪷 house parties, pool parties, after school parties, just any party tbh. If he catches one he is going. And Believe me it makes it so much better. He has the music, the vibe, the photo’s everything. Man is so chill fr

🪷 lowkey good friends w Hades. Mainly because they both chose languages. They usually practice together if they have like a verbal test. They got each other’s back. And yeah Buddha’s a senior cause he skipped some grades

🪷 Ppl expected him to actually be single cause of how care free he is but they were wrong cause man was SMITTEN by Yasodharā. They were literally THE couple.

🪷 Got into a class fight with Loki. Imma leave room for yall to think how that went. Man CLEARED him. But he didn’t hit tho. He didn’t square up. He just dodged and threw chips in his face.

🪷 watched anime, reads manhwa and hd merch. But he the cool ones that keep it lowkey and dont rly act upon it

🪷 Man saved the ppl who graduated w him. He arranged that the ppl in the last year could have a week long vacation to Italy. Mainly to see art or just enjoy being free from school.

🪷 As much as he hated school. He’s the type that goes for a good time. He likes being w his friends or his glorious gf Yasodharā.

Shiva:

🧿 Laid back student that barely passes but doesn’t really mind.

🧿 member of the party club! He hosts all the dances, plays, school events, parties, gala’s. Anything to do with the sort!

🧿 Also a big fan of house parties. Good music, good vibe, lots of ppl, drinks n a good home? He’s all in.

🧿 He 100% had music, art and religion as a subject. Dancing is included with art and he gives extra lessons to the youngsters. He might even have his own dance club on campus.

🧿 He’s also a fan of p.e. He 100% has a one sided rivalry with Hercules and Ares. But if it’s Ares and Hercules against each other he’s on Hercules’ side.

🧿 He hosted a Gala for the seniors and it was so goated, he even had a department for ppl who didn’t want to dance and put on game consoles on the big ahh boards.

🧿 He and Poseidon were playing Mario Kart and SSBU against each other. Half of the ppl there spectated on how the two were so focused and at each other’s throat. But after that Shiva went back to dancing.

🧿 A lot of ppl think that he’s poly but he’d monogamous and has a girlfriend. Aka Parvati. Who was his partner to homecoming. Which he hosted ofcourse.

🧿 Skips school so much that he once had to have a conversation with the school therapist to make sure there was nothing going on at home. (There isn’t) but he played it off cause he a smooth talker and got away with it.

🧿 He’s besties w Rudra. They’re the duo that everyone knows cause they’ve been going to the same school and usually have most classes together. Even if they don’t like the subject. Like you can see Shiva in some classes they don’t have together cause he just asks the teacher it its cool and most of the time it’s cool. Most.

🧿 They the duo that they meet each other in the halls cause they both got sent out of the classroom. Or they both have detention and never do any work in it there.

🧿 you can usually spot them outside going for a run or at the gym. They also share a playlist for of they go to the gym and its very intense. Or they’re goofing around and end up doing something else.

🧿 He’s also in Hades class as a senior but they aint rly close, no bad blood but they just have their own friends. Though If they were to be paired up they’d make a very good duo.

🧿 Also a big fan of Culture day. But the best part is that Parvati is in a beautiful sari, her make up done, mehendi on her hands and feet, churias on her arms, a veil on her head. Hmm perfect.

🧿 He lowkey beefs with Loki but does it in a goofy way y’know. Like he seems very intimidating cause of his physique and height but he’s lowkey chill and doesn’t bother ppl.

🧿 is lowkey a model together with Poseidon. He posts a lot of pictures on his insta, Indian weddings (they’re the best) pics of himself or if he went somewhere. Some of them are lowkey so aestheticly pleasing.

Yuh that’s it. Might make a part 3 tho

Tagging: @mizz-sea-nymph @vilereign @tinyy-tea-cup @das-jaim3 @monstertreden @rukia-writes @snowmantita @brokensenseofhumor @itz-hel @nicasdreamer @imperfectbloodmoon @swallowtail-lotus @m3l-moony @riseofamoonycake @bumblebees-knees-threes @praisethesuuun @telvess @salmonpoki @aresarmyblog

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 2}

Pairing: Head Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Joel can't seem to make up his mind when it comes to you: one minute he's kind and thoughtful, the next he's cruel and cutting off your every word. You're just trying to keep your head above water, work becoming something that is not so simple anymore.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: pining, mutual pining, masturbation, mention of sex toys, use of sex toys, use of recreational drugs, marijauna, joel is a meanie in this, power dynamics, degrading talk, age gap (reader is late 20's, Joel in his 40s)

A/N: diving full force into this story while i'm trying to navigate finding jobs to apply to and calls to places i'm interested it. hopefully this chapter is received as well as the first! please let me know what y'all think!

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

It had been a hectic two weeks of prepping before your normal bartending shifts.

There had been application posted to fill the position of the sandwich station worker who had called out all those days ago and then just never returned. But in the meantime you had been given the opportunity to prep the station for whoever would be manning it while Joel took over the main hot station that did a majority of the heavier cooking for the entrees as well as the garnishing before plates were deemed ready to go out onto the floor.

Everyone in the kitchen seemed to be under the impression that without a dishwasher until the service began and that it would be a collective effort to keep them in line and working through the washer and then added to the drying rack.

Except for yours.

The items you used and transferred out in the station were left in the bus tubs lining the intake area of the dish pit. You didn’t let it get to you, used to having to keep up with glasses and garnish cambros with the steady if not hectic business of the place. You were in the middle of rinsing out a giant bane when someone placed their own beside you directly in the dish pit and it knocked the ones in your hand enough to cause the spray of the nozzle to wash over you.

You cursed under your breath as it doused you from head to waist. It was a cold shock and you frowned as you continued to get the dishes from your prep cleaned and dried. As soon as it was all set and you double checked everything for the station’s workers for the night, you walked over to where the employee lockers were.

Thoughts of how things had been going overall swirling in your mind as you made your way over to the shared space at the back of the kitchen. Eyes followed you sometimes, people aware of the weird dynamic of someone working both front of house and in the kitchen. But people were outwardly friendly with you still, no animosity other than the business with the dishes. Joel’s eyes often caught your own as he handled his own prep and went about his supervision of things going the way they need to for him to run his kitchen. He would tackle the dishes every so often as well, telling people to line them up if he was able to spend time in the dish pit. Casual conversation were still an occurrence, more so now that you were in the kitchen with people you often talked to through the expo line and the width of the bar top. It was something that just wasn’t worth bringing up and potentially change the easy going dynamic that had been set.

You untied your apron, a black thing with a simple floral pattern that wasn’t really allowed as it didn’t match the uniform of the kitchen staff. But it had been allowed as it was a custom with your name stitched on the front pocket and the one you used to set up the bar. You tossed it into your locker, also labeled with your name, and moved to peel the wet black long sleeve you had worn for the day. Underneath it was a dark heather gray tank top that was lined with lace on the neckline, paired with black denim pants. Your belt was a little kitschy, the buckle a silver metal heart.

You were too preoccupied digging around in your locker for replacement to notice that someone else had come into the locker room. When you made a triumphant sound at finding another shirt, you pulled it out quickly only to come face to face with Joel.

“Oh!” You startled, feet taking you a few quick steps back, or they would’ve if you hadn’t been jammed in the middle of your back by the open locker door. The fabric fell from your hands as you exclaimed again in pain. “Oh, fuck!”

Expletives rained down from your mouth, some in English and some in Spanish, your mind getting tangled as you tried to deal with the pain.

You braced your hands on your knees and leaned down a little, trying to stretch the sharp pain out of your throbbing back before it could cramp and get worse. It was the wrong move as Joel had just leaned down himself to pick up the dropped shirt and your chest was practically in his face. The cleavage from your tank top allowed him an eyeful and he caught sight of the rose-colored bra that you had picked out that morning. He quickly stood back up and shoved the shirt back into your open locker and left the room as quickly as he had come in.

You straightened back up as well and felt the heat rush to your face as you realized what had just happened.

The rest of the shift went by well enough, though you had to be careful with twisting and maneuvering a little more than normal to avoid twinging your sore back. You were sure there was a large bruise that had bloomed to life on the skin but wouldn’t be able to tell for sure until you were home. The restaurant had closed, the last customers were walking out as you began to break down the bar.

You had all the mats in the washer and had started to replace bottles you had grabbed from the shelves lining the back of the bar above the small counter. A particularly full bottle of pomegranate liquor was a hard reach for you and your back spasmed with the effort to reach the middle shelf. Losing your grip on the bottle, you braced yourself for it to fall but a large hand was catching it by the middle before it could lose too much air and placed it atop the shelf for you.

You turned to see Joel standing unnervingly close, his body was a warm line beside you, his chest practically pressing up against your side as he had swooped in to save you from dropping the bottle completely.

“Would hate for it to have gone to waste.” Was all he said as he stood back, his hands resting atop both counters that made up your area, effectively blocking the entrance as he took up the space with his broad form. He watched you as you continued to put bottles away and placing stoppers the ones in the well, wiping them all down with a clean sanitizer rag as you did so. When you got to a good scotch that you had taken weeks picking out, you picked up two rocks classes and filled them with two fingers of the amber liquor each, you slid one over to him. He regarded you as he took a drink from it. His plush lips pressing against the glass in a tantalizing way despite the casualness of the action. “You didn’t eat anythin’ tonight.”

“No, I didn’t have much time. My barback called out and it was just me mixin’ and runnin’.” You explained as you took a sip from your own glass. His eyes traced the movement of the glass much like you had done with his own as he took a drink. Your fingers were adorned with a new coat of dip, having allowed them to grow out a bit and treat yourself to the splurge. The dark green of them adorned with small golden stars must’ve caught his eye as they glinted in the soft lighting of the dining room.

“Could’ve put in a takeout order to have something sent over. I woulda comped it for ya.”

“I’ll just have something when I get home.” You set your glass down on the back shelf, by the register and out of reaching hands should another employee come looking for a post shift treat. You had already made a last call for everyone, some people taking you up on it.

“It’s late.”

“Yeah, but I need to study anyway, so it’ll be okay.”

“Study?”

“I’ve got a midterm tomorrow. I’ll be up for a bit.”

“Didn’t know you were in school.” Behind the casual curiosity you could see a worry about your age, as did everyone when you mentioned school. But the reality was that you had taken a few years off to focus on family and get some personal things straightened out before returning.

“Hmm,” You absently responded as you wrapped up the tops of the squeeze bottles with cling wrap and gathered them in a large storage basin to put in one of the many coolers beneath the bar. “Only part time, graduate this fall.”

“Lemme make you somethin’ to take home.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. You looked up from where you were now loading the guards for the drains that lined the bar top. Pausing as you had moved to put something into the washer on the other side of the space. Taken aback by the shift in his tone from casual to one he would adapt on the line.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, chef. Really.”

“Chicken or beef?”

“Chef, really, it’s okay.”

“Joel’s fine, darlin’. Chicken or beef?”

“You know, this is the most we’ve ever talked.” He didn’t take the bait, the comment a distraction from his attempt. The last sip of your own drink was quickly downed, and you turned to face away from him as you placed your own glass in the washer. When you turned back around, his eyes were still on you. There was a slight glint to them, something you couldn’t quite make out, but it had you crumbling all the same.

“…beef, please.” You sighed, rubbing your hand over the small of your back. A shy smile taking over your lips as you tried to avoid meeting his eyes with your own. The glass he still held in his hand was knocked back, the remaining liquor downed in a single swig and he was stepping into your space to load it into the open dishwasher. His arm brushed against yours and you felt your face heat up at the proximity.

“Comin’ right up.”

“Lemme know what you think,” He placed one hand on the hood of your truck, the other on the side of the open door and leaned inside the cab a bit. The scent of him filled the space, winning out over the dying air freshener you had yet to replace out of sheer laziness. His cologne was faint after a long shift but the cedar undertones of it were heady as they filled your nose. His lips were suddenly brushing the apple of your cheek, the contact brief. “Good luck on that midterm, see ya tomorrow.”

He took your shocked stillness as a sign to close the door, a smug grin taking over his features as he did so. You watched him through the glass of your window as he walked back to the building, turning to look at you once more with a wink before he disappeared inside.

You sat there for far too long, willing your heartrate back down before you turned the engine and took off toward home. For most of the drive, you found yourself pressing a hand to the skin his lips had touched and glancing over at the two takeout boxes he had secured in a tied-up plastic bag.

The campus was crowded, so incredibly crowded. You had to circle the various parking lots three times over before you were able to snag a spot. The sound of the truck door was loud as you pushed it closed and locked it up before rushing towards the main buildings. You were nearly late, but had just made it down the hall and could see the open door as the time for the beginning of class displayed on the small watch you had adorned today. You had actually been able to dress like normal, only going into the bar later to do inventory and place an order before your day off tomorrow and next. A little break, the manager had said, to help you relax after summer midterms.

Fall was around the corner in a few months and you needed to get things lined up and ready for the menu change that staff meeting had been about a few weeks ago. The skirt of your sundress, black patterned with sunflowers, swirled up as you rushed through the door and turned to take the first seat that was open. Your short sleeves not allowing you much warmth in the colder air of the classroom. As you sat, you pulled out a mustard cardigan and shrugged it on. You felt eyes track your figure as you had walked the entire length of the classroom to the back and took a seat in the back row and plopped down. The shift to the air of the building wasn’t the only reason you decided to don your little sweater, fingers shaking slightly as you buttoned it up completely.

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” The professor offered you a kind smile as they spoke, shutting the door and locking it to prevent anyone from entering from the outside. “Let’s tackle the exciting world of biological evolution.”

An hour and a half later, your hand cramping from writing so fast to catch your thoughts and theories down into tangible words, you turned in your small, stapled packet. You were one of the last ones in the class, everyone else rushing off to enjoy the rest of their day, thankful that class wasn’t running the typical three hours and taking advantage of the early hour before noon. Fingers brushed against your own as the professor reached out to take the paper from you. You felt a jolt of anxiety race up your spine and you offered a weak smile before taking your leave.

Your smaller sized backpack was placed in the heightened bar seat beside you. The laptop you bought for school last year open and glowing in front of you with the white blankness that was the ordering screen for the company the restaurant preferred to use. It was early, only Joel in the kitchen for early prep due to a lot of reservations and the manager doing the same as you, taking inventory before placing orders.

You looked over your notes, unsure of what you had scrawled down on one page, but it didn’t seem to matter. It was about the lamb special, something that Joel was still working on. Uncrossing your legs, you hopped down from the stool you had been sat it for far too long. The tingling of blood flow returning to your legs had you walking stiffly toward the kitchen, the thump of your healed boots louder than normal on the floor of the dining room as you crossed the space. Your hair was down, the scent of your shampoo calming you as you approached the door.

Thoughts of the man just on the other side of the door had plagued you all night. You tried to fight a heat that threatened to rise as you recalled the way you had called out his name in a loud whimper when you had come undone with the help of your vibrator. It had been all encompassing, recalling the heat of him as he had stood close to you and roped you into allowing him to cook for you after close, the brush of his warm skin along your arm, the plush give of his lips as he had leaned in to touch them to your cheek. The care he had put into the food he prepared for you, enough for dinner and lunch today if you hadn’t gotten so high and gave into the desires of your stomach and cunt so easily.

Taking a deep breath to settle your nerves, you pushed open the swing door, your nails clinking softly on the dark metal. As you crossed the threshold, Joel’s eyes snapped up from where he was on the line. You were suddenly self-conscious of the dress you were wearing, cardigan laid over the back of your stool at the bar.

“Chef, I had a few questions about the special. I know we went over it at the meeting but-“ The words cut off in your throat as you looked up to see his eyes hard and heavy on you. He had only glanced at you before looking back down at what he was doing but it seemed his attention was focused solely on you now and it made you squirm after the awkward morning you had had.  Maybe he was upset about food safety, your hair was down, and the dress had rather short sleeves and low cut. “Oh, I have a sweater I can put on and a hair tie if you’re worried about food safety.”

“No.” It was quick, the word flying from his lips and followed by the sound of him clearing his throat rather harshly. You could practically feel the heat of his gaze in the metal of the necklace around your neck, the simple chain reacting to his eyes on you much like your skin was. His next words weren’t as harsh as that first one. “No, don’t worry about that, should be fine.”

“Um, okay.” Fingers wringing around each other, you took another couple of steps into the kitchen, closer to the expo line you were peering at him through. “Did-did you decide on the balsamic for the fall special?

“Testing it out today, want to help?”

“Oh, oh no, I couldn’t!” You put a hand on the empty space of the expo line, nails clinking as you did so, and the sound drew his attention to it. You worried he was going to tell you to remove them before your next shift. But he had seen them yesterday and not said anything. “It’s your kitchen, I don’t want to intrude on prep time when I’m not even on schedule.”

“You’re here off the clock?”

“No, I clocked in, but it was…supposed to be my day off. Mary- she gave me the weekend off to relax after midterms.”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes going over your attire again in a sweeping gaze. The way your chest was slightly pushed up as you leaned against the slightly higher counter. His gaze moved back to what he was doing, out of your line of sight.

“Hop back here and we can figure it out together.”

“I-I can’t, really, I’m just here to do the order.” You didn’t want to turn down the offer, something he wasn’t keen to hand out to people in the kitchen let alone anyone else. But his close proximity was a heady thought and your body hummed with the prospect of being behind the line with him. It was dangerous, a line that shouldn’t be crossed and he was sending you such inviting signals. You didn’t need gossip to start, focused on you and how you seemed to soften the man in charge of the kitchen though you hadn’t really done anything.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Chef-“

“Joel, thought I told you to cut that chef crap out?” His lips twitched up slightly, the hint of a dimple appearing in his right cheek through the scruff along his face. You closed your eyes in a long blink as you felt a pulse of desire underneath your dress. He was so enamoring, the hint of his true personality peeking through the work persona he took on, or maybe just another facet of the man who you couldn’t seem to get out of your head.

“Joel, I can’t. I have stuff to do today after the order. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to offend you but it’s-“

The openness of his expression and the light behind his eyes dulled, slipping back to the normal emotionless one he wore when service started.

“Got it,” His hands became rough with what he was doing, and you realized he had been chopping up the brussels and sweet potatoes you were asking after. The knife was making a fast-snicking sound as his eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him, his focus on the task at hand. His voice had lost the jovial tone he had taken up, now rough and no nonsense. “Balsamic will most likely be a glaze thrown on before they roast.”

“Heard, chef.” You found yourself pushing off the expo line, feeling small, and made your way back into the dining room. Quickly shutting the laptop, not bothering to wait for it to save anything or power down, you shoved it into your bag along with your cardigan. You swiped your keys off of the counter beside the glass of water you had poured for yourself and took hurried steps toward the entrance. You scrambled for the handle of the door and pushed it harder than necessary, tears springing up in your eyes at the thought of confrontation as you heard the kitchen door swing open.

Heavy, even footsteps through the dining room had you forgetting to lock the door back up and you were throwing your bag into the passenger seat of your truck parked on the curb, having been told you could do so since the place wasn’t due to open until regular hours. The sound of your driver’s side door slamming was loud even to you as you jammed the keys into the ignition and the engine roared to life.

You didn’t spare a glance up at the outline of Joel standing on the curb you could see out of your peripheral, jerking the gear shift into drive and taking off with a sob bubbling up from your chest. His signals were so confusing, making it hard to figure out how to act around him. Work was supposed to be work, easy. Clock in, prep, make drinks, clean, clock out. Not this mental game of gymnastics with a man who seemed to warm up to you one second and then ice you out the next.

You were called early Sunday morning by an apologetic Mary. Saying that the bartender on shift for the brunch service had called out. You calmed her down, knowing it would be good to get the hours and tips and said you would be there in time to open the bar. Brunch was an earlier ordeal, the only day that the restaurant wasn’t open for dinner service. An easy shift, only a few hours between nine and three. A baby shift, and you would have the opportunity to order something sweet to go. A treat to enjoy on the couch with a dumb comedy playing on the screen of your living room.

The service went by quickly, jugs of orange juice and bottles of champagne piling up in your trash bin in a whirlwind of orders. Mimosas were easy money, strawberry syrup an easy upcharge to get people excited about. You had spilled tomato juice on your apron earlier and the cloying acidity was making waves of nausea roll in your stomach every time you caught a whiff of it. Things were winding down with only an hour and a half left of service. Another forty-five for kitchen orders, but you would be pouring until about ten minutes to close. You rang in a to go order of French toast and a side of scrambled eggs.

You had forgotten all about it until you were wrapping up the takeout order of someone at the bar, realizing yours had never made it over to you at the bar. It wasn’t as if you were about to eat it during service but still, it would’ve been nice to close everything down and have it ready to grab on your way out the front door.

You locked the door for the customer as you followed them to the front door. The last of the day and turned the lock after they safely across the public parking lot. With a sigh you turned toward the kitchen and braced yourself to interact with the man who had weaved his way into every one of your thoughts.

He had been professional throughout the shift, allowing you to pass clearance on dishes that needed to be run when you had come back to check on the lag created by servers flooding the sparse kitchen with orders. Allowing you the ability to do so as he always had done.

“Um, chef?” His eyes snapped to you for barely a second before he went back to gathering the stuff he needed to clean the grill. He made a grunt of acknowledgement to show he heard you. “I was wondering if my ticket was ready? I put it in before the cut off but-“

“We sold the par for what you ordered. Didn’t have enough for it.” His back tensed as he raised a hand to pour a good drizzle of oil over the entirety of the grill, grill brick ready in his other hand. The black gloves looked tight over his knuckles, like he was tense.

“Oh, um, okay.” You shuffled on your feet, aware of the two other cooks glancing between you both at the interaction. They were busy wrapping things and storing them into their respective stations, gathering dishes and things that needed to be washed. A grumble from your stomach urged your next question, too tired to attempt grocery shopping or cooking yourself. “Is-is there anything I can swap it out for?”

“We’re already shut down, can’t you see me cleaning the grill?” He turned around, items still in his grip as he finally faced you head on. “Shoulda come and checked before service closed. It ain’t my job to look after mistakes made by the front of house.”

The heat climbing up your face startled you, shame bubbling up alongside embarrassment. But you ignored it as your teeth ground against each other with the pressure of your jaw clenching. Eyes flicking over the items on the line in front of you. There was plenty he could throw together for you; he just didn’t want to. You nodded once before speaking in an even, professional tone. Your own mask falling into place.

“Apologies chef, it won’t happen again.”

You tried not to let the whispered words of the other two cooks hurt too much as you moved through the door. The two of them followed slightly as they came out from the line and made their way over to the dish pit.

“I thought I saw a second tray prepped in the walk in.”

“Me too, she must’ve done something to piss him off.”

You wallowed on the couch until late, the brightness of the screen playing across your blank face, eyes not really seeing the movie playing across the screen.

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[pinksugarscrub]

The Pirate Princess

Pirate! Hobie x Princess! reader

Scenario: To @the-kr8tor and the anon who inspired me. I present; the sea, swords, and an overly complicated love triangle!

Prologue, ???

You fidget with the handle of the blue teacup in your hand. Gold embellished in the rim. It’s cold, unnaturally so, but it’s finally stopped raining. The sky is clear except for a few puffs that look like balls of cotton the royal gardener grows. It’s peaceful inside the walls you call home. 

“If you hold the thing any tighter Princess, I’m afraid it will break.”

Instinctively you loosen your grip at the sound of his voice. So familiar you might as well hear in your head at all moments in the day. Your palm stings from how long you held it to the porcelain but you hide it well to avoid being scolded. 

You smile as you bring the steaming cup of tea to your lips. Your second, or third since this morning. “Harry, you’re late.”

He chuckles, brown curls shielding the roll of his eyes but you know him well enough to know he’s done it. When he sits you kick at his leg with your heel. Not hard but enough to annoy him but you can hardly do anything to get on his bad side. Everyone finds the need to tell you that aside from Miguel, Harry has a severe soft spot for you. 

He yelps, nearly falling off of the garden chair across from you. Dramatic of course, what kind of General would he be if a measly kick brought him to his knees. “That damn hurt (y/n)! I was only a few days off.”

You laugh as you lean back in your chair. Harry already moving to place your legs over his lap. It’s become routine everytime you see each other. Which is rare nowadays. 

“Well, you never leave a lady waiting.” Placing your tea back on the table to pour one for your friend (the maids would disagree). The action is a bit difficult given your position and the exceptionally puffy dress you’re wearing but you make do. “Especially your future queen.”

Harry doesn’t protest. Watching you with a look that he wouldn’t be caught dead giving anyone else. His fingers softly caressing the skin of your ankle. 

“Yes, well…” Taking the cup graciously once you extend it to him. “If her majesty was more inclined to acting properly she should be more understanding.” 

He recognizes the flavor as soon as it hits his tongue. Rose, your favorite. You’re worried.

He doesn’t push. Opting for you to voice your concerns if you deem it necessary. “Pete was showing me some more of his contraptions.” 

You gasp, nearly dropping the sugar in your spoon. “Peter is here?” 

You’re ready to slide out of your chair and run into his study. He left weeks ago with his apprentice. Something about metal? Vibranium? You can’t remember.

Harry catches your legs before they can hit the ground. Laughing as he holds you still. “Yes yes but let me have a moment with you before we have to listen to his regular tangents.” You whine which is unbecoming of a princess but the action makes Harry's smile grow wider. “Oh come on, I know you prefer Peter over me-”

You look absolutely appalled as you try to swat at him. Harry catches your hands with ease and kisses your knuckles to turn your expression into a happier one. Your laughter fills the garden and for a moment, just a moment, you forget about the war. Forget about tonight and…forget about how you’re going to break Harry’s heart.

At least you got to see him one last time.

-

An hour earlier . . .

-

Your head is pounding, everything is so loud. Words leaving lips left and right. Squeaky and demanding.

Curling your fingers into the tulle of your skirt you stare blankly at the map at the center of the table. Black splotches of ink on shorelines and townfronts you’ve only seen in paintings. Crossed out with a single flick of a wrist.

You gasp softly as a hand lands on your shoulder. Firm yet kind, you recognize it instantly. “Miguel,” you exhale. The bouncing of your knee ceasing. 

The man doesn’t answer. Just purses his lips. Your stomach drops as he clears his throat, loudly and unabashedly. All eyes shift and conversation comes to an abrupt halt. “This meeting is adjourned. It’s a quarter passed twelve. Return to your homes.”

The men go to protest. Of course they would. It's war. But a hand raises, an emerald ring on the pointer finger.

His voice is gruff, mostly from the smoking he used to indulge in with your father. The memory causes some tension to leave your shoulders. “Gentlemen, we have taken most of the day. I don't see what's wrong with ending early. We may even come to a better resolution by morning with the proper rest.”

These men are ancient so they take ages, centuries even, to shuffle out of the small room. Grumbling like children it’s almost comical.

You sigh. In relief or exhaustion, you don’t know. Your body aches from sitting so long on your father’s old desk chair. You don’t have to look back to know you’ve left an impression on the seat. But then again, with how thick your petticoat is you might be nonexistent to the velvet.

Miguel extends his hand out to you and you take it. Offering him a quick nod before walking over to the entrance of the study. The senior Osborn’s eyes piercing your own as he waits for you. His irises as bright as the ring on his finger. 

“Lord Osborn,”you chuckle,“thank you. I must owe you a million debts of gratitude by now.”

He laughs and you smile wider. Its melodic in a way. “Please (y/n), I’ve known you since infancy. Norman is fine. Unless you want to move ahead and start calling me father.”

You laugh nervously. Cheeks heating up as you fumble with your gloves. Struggling to make a coherent response you miss the look your Captain gives the noble. 

“Don’t worry dear, just teasing.” The wrinkles in his face growing more defined. “Speaking of which, Harry arrived earlier this morning. His platoon was thankfully, successful in removing those ghastly pirates threatening a nearby port town.”

“Oh,” you stutter. Feeling the heat in your cheeks subside. “Oh how wonderful! Please be sure to send him my way.”

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon. We’ll reconvene tomorrow yes?”

A knot fills your stomach as you nod. A strained smile on your lips. You want to say ‘Unfortunately Norman, I won’t be here tomorrow because I’m stowing away on a ship!’ Alright maybe not stowing away. You paid a fee. “Yes, tommorow. Thank you again.”

Eventually the man fades in the long corrodior of portraits and paintings. The tension in your body leaving along with him. You tilt your head and without a hitch your tiara falls into your awaiting hands. The jewels glaring back at you. You can finally breathe.

Miguel calls your name out with a sigh. His grip firm on your shoulder again and that brings you back to the present. “You don’t have to do this.”

His eyes staring deeply into your own. Despite his words Miguel knows there’s no turning back for you. You’ve made your choice.

You pull your shoulders back, determined as you set the tiara back on your head. The gold weighting almost as heavily as your heart. “It's been almost two years since father passed away and my coronation is only months away. How can I see myself as a queen when I can’t even help my own people now?”

“I can do this.” You repeat the phrase to yourself in your mind before continuing. “I’ll leave and come back in less than a month.” Your heels clicking as you begin walking down to the garden. You can see the terrace has already been set up for you. The banners of your family crest fluttering in the backround.

“Just having you believe in me to allow me to do this is more than I could have asked for.”

Miguel chuckles, uncharacteristic to anyone except to you. “I sincerely doubt you would have taken no for an answer.” 

“How encouraging,”you huff. Smiling as you playfully hit his side. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor.”

He smirks before going back to his usual stoic demeanor. It’s almost cold the way he stares down at you but you know him enough to see he’s hiding his pain.

A stone heart was necesary in the eyes of the advisors. A Captain of the royal guard could show no weakness.

“Your kingdom has no other option aside from annihilation if you leave it in the hands of these arrogant fools for too long. Find Gwendolyn, and quickly.”

You feel a cool piece of metal through the silk of your glove and it takes you a second to realize Miguel is the one who’s placed it there. The atmosphere thick as you twirl the ring inbetween your fingers.

Your father’s ring.

Newly polished it might as well shine like a pearl. The words engraved in the metal more legible.

It’s a parting gift you realize. As optimistic as you’ve been about your journey. You know there’s a chance you won’t be coming back. Miguel must see that too.

“The boat leaves at sunrise. You have everything you need to succeed. It’s up to you to live up to the potential I know you have.” He surprises you by kneeling. The suit of his armor clinking together as the sun shines through the stained glass windows. The color makes him look almost ethereal. You feel like it's his presence you should be basking. You who should be kneeling.

"I have served no one nobler. Good luck, (y/n). Daughter of Dmitri.”

[ohtobeleah]

Sticks & Stones // A ToE Blurb

Summary: The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment. And the one you find out you weren’t the only one who kept parenting secrets.

Warnings: Angst. Teenage hellion Odette Bradshaw. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Platonic Rhett Abbott x F!reader.

Word Count: 4k

-> Fade away from reality with the Terms of Endearment series here

I think throughout your parenting life together you and Rooster keep certain things from each other. Not out of spite or with malice intentions. It would be to simply keep the other from spiralling or needing to worry about a situation that had already been dealt with. That had already been handled appropriately and most likely to a parenting degree that would be deemed acceptable by the other party. 

“I remember this one time mum tore shreds off me after I got an after school detention.” This one can be titled: “The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment.” 

Odette Fitch knew it wasn’t just because of the after school detention. She was big enough and grown enough to understand her wrongs as a teenager—but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow. 

“I've never seen her like that before nor do I ever want to see her like that again.” Odette explained all the while she sat by the fire— burning bright orange and red embers in the fire pit Chase had built, explaining how Harrison, her threenager, got in trouble for kicking dirt in some poor kid’s eyes during free play at daycare. “I didnt understand why she was so mad, why she was so emotional but fuck dad–I get it now.” 

“I don't think I know about this one?” Bradley shook his head softly as he took a sip from his beer bottle. “When did you get an after school detention?” Odette can't help but to chuckle, of course you hadn’t told him. You went off like no tomorrow which wasn't like you at all. Your tolerance for bullshit was usually pretty high–but that particular day Odette and her teenage antics had pushed you to a limit that even scared you. It was no wonder you never mentioned it to Bradley. 

So, Dot spills the beans, she finishes her beer and settles a little further into the back of her camp chair and lulled her head to the side to tell her dear old dad about the time she saw you burn in. 

Fourteen Years Earlier: 

“When your father hears about this Odette you better count your lucky stars that he doesn't ship you out to Wabang or better yet, Australia!” 

“It's not that big of a deal mum–” Dot trailed in behind you with her school bag slumped over her shoulder. She was too cool for school nowadays. “Everyone does it!” She’d been busted by a teacher, skipping P:E in favour of an excursion to the lake that bordered the school grounds. There was an old cabin out there one of the groundskeepers used to live in way back in the 70’s. Apparently it was haunted. Dot didn't think so. But she wanted to check it out nevertheless.

“You are not everyone, Odette, you are your own person with bodily autonomy and critical thinking skills and you should know better!” The consequences to Odette's actions had been a call from the principal's office in the middle of the day. You were beyond furious about being pulled away from work, work you were inundated with. What followed was a lengthy discussion with the schools guidance counsellor about your daughter's declining behaviour during class and her grade averages. Odette was smart; she just didn't apply herself–or just didn't see the point in doing so.  

“Uncle Jake said you hated school! Said you hardly ever showed up and that when you did it was to work on stuff in the metal room.” Odette thought she had you backed into a corner as you stopped and turned on your heels. “Yeah, I know things.” It was then you pressed your lips together in a fine line and wished Jake was currently in the US to feel your wrath. But he wasn't. No, He was in Townsville Queensland. In fucking Australia. It said so on the google calendar that sat on your kitchen countertop. The one everyone used. 

“Your uncle is a liar.” He wasn't. You hated school, it was hard being the smartest person in the room and feeling like you knew nothing all at the same time. You were a delinquent at best during your teenage years so the fact you had a teenage dirtbag yourself shouldn't have shocked you all that much. It didn't shock Jake that was for sure. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree he’d tell you when you'd call him just to rant about Odettes’ latest attempt at sending you to an early grave. “And we aren't talking about me, we’re talking about you and your grades and the fact you have an after school detention on Wednesday that I now have to leave work early to come and get your from when you know I work late Wednesdays!” 

There was a small pause in the argument that had begun to bubble over and before you knew what was happening—Odette was challenging you without hesitation.

“Oh i’m so sorry you have to leave work, not like you spend enough time there anyway!” Dot hissed. 

“Enough young lady, your father and I work hard to give you a good life.” That much was true—you never wanted your kids to grow up like you did. You’d do anything to keep a roof over their head and food in their mouths and keep clothes on their backs. 

“Maybe if Mr Carson wasn't such a tight ass–” Dot mumbled under her breath as she sighed and rolled her eyes. This sucked. Everything sucked. 

“Don't you blame anyone but yourself for this situation, Odette.” You pointed a stern finger at your daughter. “And be thankful it's me you're dealing with now and not your father, he’d be livid if he knew.” And then, Odette Bradshaw said it. For the first time ever she said something that tore your heart from your chest, rung it out like a wet sponge before discarding it in the trash.

“How can dad know about it!” She shouted. “He's in prison, remember?” Silence, Odette heard nothing but silence. No “Go to your room young lady.” or “You’re grounded.” Silence was all she heard as you stood there speechless trying to process what your daughter had just said to you. Odette took your silence as a leverage point, she thought she’d won the battle but decided to twist the knife a little deeper just to see how far she could push this new rhetoric. “Rooster isn't my real dad, so he doesn’t get to have a say in what I do and don't do.” Again you were speechless as you stood there with wide eyes trying to regulate the way your heart thumped against your chest. “And he's not even here mum! He's in the middle of the damn ocean somewhere so empty threats aside, I think I'll take my chances when he does come back.” 

Odette really did think she had you beat when you didn't say a word. She smirked, reached for her school bag that she'd dumped by the leg of the table and slung it over her shoulder before turning on her heels. It was then through a haze of rage and repressed emotions that you let your daughter, your first born, the first love you had ever known, have it. 

“Oh–fuck you kid!” You snapped through gritted teeth. Odette had never heard you swear before, let alone heard you swear at one of your three kids. “Fuck you!” When you said it again Odette just scoffed in shock. She was in utter disbelief. 

“Did you really just say that?” She asked softly, confused. 

“Yeah–yeah I really just said fuck you, and I mean how fucking dare you.” There was a rage behind your eyes Dot had never seen before. A sadness. “ After all I have done, after all that I have given to you, my life, my love, my body!” You paused as you stepped a little close to your daughter. “I broke my fucking vagina for that big fucking head of yours!” You spat, it was too much for Odette to compute as you spoke with venom lacing your tone. “And I had to be surgically sewn back together, I bet you didn't know that, did you? Well guess who does know? Your uncle because he was there! Not your fucking father!” 

Odette didn't know that, She always just assumed that her dad had been there when you gave birth to her. Why wasn't he there she wondered? Why wasn’t he there to watch her be born? 

“Oh and you calling him your dad, that's rich considering you have never known the man! So rich when the man who is your father, who is your dad in all the ways that matter most loves you so unconditionally that he adopted you as his own!” You were on a warpath and Odette was your target. “After all those years of your ‘father’ driving me insane with his abuse and his condescending ‘my loves’” You paused to hold back tears as flashes from your past played out like a rolodex behind your eyes. “He talked to me like I was worthless, treated me like trash until I got sick of it!” 

“Mum?” Odette tried to interrupt as tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

“I wanted happiness Odette–” Was all you sobbed. “I deserve happiness! I’m a fucking human being Dot!” You tried to pull yourself together because this wasn't about you or what you wanted. You were a selfless mother who gave everything you had to your children and this was the most vulnerable any of them had ever seen you. 

“Don't you dare bitch to me about my career, little miss ‘I’m so progressive!’ Yes! I worked my ass off to get where I am and I wanted it.” Flashbacks from the time Jake and your own guidance counsellor helped you graduate flashed before your eyes. They believed in you when most people didn't. When you didn't even believe in yourself. 

“I wanted to mean something in this world! I didn’t know that was a fucking crime!?” 

“Mum–” Odette was at a loss for words but nevertheless she still tried. You didn't let her speak. You weren’t done yet. 

“Life isn't perfect, oaky baby? We don't get everything we want. But you’re young, you know, so go on, go make the perfect little life that you want and you see how fucking easy it is and stop bitching and complaining and blaiming me! after all I have ever done and all I will ever do has been in your best goddamn interest.” 

It was Odette's turn to stand in silence, unsure of what to say back to you after your rant. It was clear she broke your heart—that much was evident, but Odette was too hot headed and knew what she thought was everything she ever needed to know. After all, she was fifteen. 

“I’m—“ As Dot when to speak, you held your hand up in order to silence your daughter. She hated the tears that streamed down your face as you refused to look at her. “Mum?”

“Go to your room, I’ve got to go get your brother and sister from school.” Without another world, it was just Odette left in the big house that usually houses five souls at any given time. She felt sick to her stomach for upsetting you so much. 

But as she heard the car start in the driveway she knew she wouldn’t apologise for it. You’d be fine. You were her mother—you had no choice but to love her even when you wanted to kill her. 

Present Day: 

“Now before you whoop my twenty nine year old ass, I did end up apologising and I did go to that detention and I’ve since learnt my lesson.” Dot scrambled to get all that out before Rooster had a chance to lean over and wrap his hands around his daughter’s throat. 

You’d never told him about that, Rooster never would have known if his daughter didn’t spill the test fourteen years later. And even if fourteen years had past Bradley knew that you probably thought about that fight a lot. 

“Your mother was right kid, I would have throttled you.” Bradley shook his head in disbelief, it was fourteen years ago but he was only finding out about it now. He felt like he was the last to know. He should have known, right?

Later that same evening when Bradley made his way home, he opened the front door to the smell of something homely simmering away on the stovetop. Homemade chicken and feta pesto pasta. One of his favourites. 

The portion size had dwindled from five to four to three to two back to three over the years, with kids grown and flying in and out of the house without a second's notice. But the one thing that always remained the same was the love cooked into the food you prepared for your family. No matter how little or how much. 

“Hey Roo.” You beamed as you took a sip from the glass of wine in your hand. You’d just finished cleaning up the kitchen after having used every possible surface available. “How’s Dot doing?” 

“She’s good, Harrison’s giving her a little trouble but she’s good.” Bradley explained as he made his way over to you. “But—she actually told me a little story about a fight the two of you had?” It was the taunting tone your husband used that made you immediately feeling hot in the cheeks. Bradley wasted no time in trapping you between the countertop and his torso, with strong arms encompassing you. “The one where you—“

“No she didn’t!” You cupped a single hand over your mouth with wide eyes when the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. “That little shit head I swore her to secrecy!” Bradley reached for your glass of wine, he took a sip before he pressed his lips together and leaned in to kiss your cheek softly from behind.” 

“You never told me—“ 

“I didn’t want you knowing I swore at her.” You admitted. “You were deployed and I didn’t want you worrying about us at home and—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Rooster spun you around in his hood and had his lips on yours as he pressed you up against the kitchen counter top. His hands were firmly on your hips, holding you close to him lovingly. 

“Before anything, I am a husband and a father first baby.” He reminded you as he let his forehead rest against yours. “I know why you didn’t tell me, and I’m not mad you didn’t because you handled it better than I probably would have—“ Bradley explained as he pushed your hair behind your ear. “But I wish you didn’t have to deal with those very real and very valid emotions by yourself.” 

You paused for a brief moment, smiling up at your loving husband and the aroma of his favourite meal consumed the two of you. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better baby I wasn’t entirely alone.” You explained as you got to work plating up a bowl of pesto pasta for your husband. 

Fourteen Years Earlier: 

What Dot didn’t see was the panic attack that overcame you to the point you had to pull over on the side of the road to let it take its course. Memories of that fateful night and that bloodied devil-like smirk flashed before your eyes. Even after all these years the mere mention of your ex brought you to your damn knees in a crumpled heap. He was a monster. 

With Bradley deployed and Jake overseas a world away in the land down under, you reached for your phone and called the only person you knew would answer your call the first time round. 

“Boys!” Rhett’s loud and boisterous voice travelled down the hall. He was standing in the kitchen making his seven year old boys lunch. Turkey and cheese on wholemeal bread. “Quit fuck assing around, come get your lunch!” As Rhett flung the tea towel over his shoulder and started to pack up the mess he’d made making lunch for his boys—he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. A loud thud came from the living room just around the corner—then? Complete and utter silence. If Rhett knew anything about his kids it’s that when a thud is followed by silence it’s usually not a good thing. “BOYS! you better both be alive when I round that corner!” 

Rhett threw the butter and the block of cheese he’d mangled with a less than sharp butter knife into the fridge haphazardly before he kicked the fridge door shut with his boot. He wasted not a second of time, he needed to investigate the silence now shrouding the farmhouse. As he walked he fished his phone from his back pocket to see your name lighting up his caller ID. ‘Ace.’ 

“Hol’ on—m’ parentin’.” Rhett mumbled as he swiped the pad of his thumb across his screen and held his phone to his ear. Keep it there with his shoulder as he rounded the corner to see one of his twins, Liam, laying on the ground with his eyes closed. “LUKE!” Rhett bellowed into the phone, for a second it made you laugh because Rhett and parenting in the same sentence still made you smile. “What did you do to your brother huh?” 

“He fell!” Luke ran out from behind the lounge and down the hall. “I didn’t touch him!” Rhett groaned in defeat as he scooped his son off the ground to make sure he was still alive. Yep. There was a heartbeat and breathe inside his lungs. 

“I’m fine, I just need a minute—“ Liam mumbled. “And to not fix fences this afternoon.” 

“You ain’t dead, dying or debilitated.” Rhett chuckled as he watched Liam side on the couch with deflated shoulders. “Go eat your lunch and find your brother before I do.” How the fuck was Rhett Abbott a dad? “We’re heading out at two.” 

Liam groaned as he flung himself off the lounge and headed on into the kitchen. It was then Rhett exhaled a sigh and turned all his attention back to you—still waiting patiently on the other end of the line. “How much do you think I could get for two feral seven year olds?” 

“Probably a little more than a fifteen year old delinquent.” You replied softly as you sat pulled over on the side of the road with your hazards on and your forehead pressed against the steering wheel. “I’m sending her to live with you.” Rhett chuckled as he sat on the lounge and held his phone up to his ear. 

“What she do this time?” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you and Rhett to call each other to discuss your children’s antics. Being separated and a co-parenting dad with two twin boys that hardly knew what he was doing, more often than not it was Rhett calling you. But on the odd occasion you called him? It made him feel validated in a sense that it was okay to not have everything under control all the time. “Y/n? What she do this time?” 

“We were arguing about how she got an after school detention—“ You explained only a few details. “And then she hit me with the Bradley’s not her real dad argument when I said she was lucky he wasn’t here to reprimand her.” It knocked the wind right out of Rhett’s lungs. “She’s fifteen! I’m not ready to talk about this yet! She can’t know Rhett—she can’t—she—“ Rhett could tell by the rapid breathing and the panicked tone coming through the phone that you weren’t okay. He looked over to the little digital calendar in the corner of the living room that you all had and saw that Bradley was still on deployment for another two weeks. 

“Ace, listen to me?” Rhett tried his best to console you as he rubbed a hand across his tired face. “You don’t have to tell her, no one will ever force you to tell her anything you don’t want her to know, but she’s a smart kid man—she’s gonna figure it out eventually.” 

“Fuck you Rhett—“ That wasn’t the reaction Rhett was expecting but nevertheless it forced a chuckled from his chest. “You didn’t see the way she dug that knife in, she knew what she said and she meant it too.” 

“Kids are brutal, teenagers are the worst.” Rhett replied. “It’s sticks and stones Ace, be the bigger person and just let her have this one.” You knew Rhett wasn’t invalidating your feelings, he was just giving you level headed advice. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“Nah—“ Rhett smiled with half his mouth as he watched his boys come back into the living room with their sandwiches. Both sitting in front of the TV to watch something Rhett could only assume was mind numbing. He wasn’t allowed to watch TV as a kid, but he wasn’t about to be like his father. “I’m serious, I think she won this round, but just because she KO’d you doesn’t mean you won’t get back up.” 

“I hate you, you know that right?” You groaned into the phone. “Jake would have told me to take the door handle off her door and leave her in there for a week.” You knew that Jake would have been serious too. “I should have called him for moral support, not you and your rational responses.” 

You needed level headedness though, you needed someone to pull you back from the edge of a full blown parenting breakdown and of all people it was Rhett Abbott who did so. He smiled to himself because he knew you’d be okay, he knew the tears had slowly begun to fade and he knew that when you got home? You’d still love your shit head of a daughter. 

“That’s exactly why Hangman doesn’t have kids.” 

Present Day: 

There’s a barely twenty one year old emerging from his room right about the time Bradley has you sitting on the countertop while he stands between your legs. If anything the Bradshaw kids were exposed to public displays of affection more often than most kids were but that was because they had parents who were oh so in love. 

For Nicky Bradshaws who’s home on a rare visit between trips overseas and dedicating his entire life to the sport he loved so much, the fact he watched his parents suck faces often throughout his childhood never made the sight any less gross. 

Nick stood dead in his tracks as he watched his father stand between his mothers legs with his tongue in her mouth like he was starved of oxygen. He let his presence be known by clearing his throat. 

“I still technically live here, you know.” Nick side eyed the two of you as Rooster stepped away to let you down from where he had you perched. It wasn’t a kiss laced with lust—but it had been a kiss filled with love for the woman who had built her own version of a perfect life. “I think I deserve to be able to use the common areas of the house without needing lasik after losing my vision after having walked in on you two getting in on.” Your youngest pointed between you and Bradley. “Y’all have a bedroom—use it.” 

“It wasn’t like that honey.” You tapped your son on the chest. “Here, have some dinner before your father eats it all.” 

“I heard Harry kicked dirt in some poor kid's eyes today.” Nick chuckled at the way his oldest sister had rung him up in the car. “Can’t say he isn’t hers now—“ Bradley laughed along with his son as you deadpanned the both of them. The look you sent them shut their laughter up real quick. “Oh come on ma! Admit it, she was a handful teen and you know it.” 

“You weren’t perfect either Bud.” Rooster had your back before you even needed to defend Odette. “I still remember the time I caught that girl sneaking out of your room when you were fifteen—“ Immediately, before the sentence was even finished, Bradley knew he’d fucked up. 

“What girl?” Your eyes went wide. “Nick? When did you have a girl in your room when you were fifteen?” Throughout your parenting life together you and Rooster keep certain things from each other. Not out of spite or with malice intentions. It would be to simply keep the other from spiralling or needing to worry about a situation that had already been dealt with. “Bradley? What girl!?” You hissed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“It’s a long story Ma.” Nick replied with a mouthful of pasta. 

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not busy.” You turned to your husband who looked like a kicked puppy. He kept things from you too. And he kept this one from you for a good fucking reason—Nick had begged him to for his own safety.

Nick knew you’d throw sticks and stones at him if you found out he lost his virginity when he was just fifteen. 

“Spill the beans boys.” You willed the pair of them to sit at the table. Nick shook his head in defiance with a mouthful of pasta. 

“No thanks, I chose life.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse e @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb @endofdays56 @seresinsaint @topguncortez @mandylove1000 @clancycucumber230

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ THE PRIEST

kenjaku x fem!reader (platonic)

Tags — fluff? , platonic , ‘first’ meeting , stalker-ish behavior , soft kenjaku , creepy kenjaku , listen he cares about his daughter and shows it in weird ways

Notes — kenjaku is y/n’s parent, it’s not explicitly stated since this is from y/n’s pov but pretty obvious he is. i just wanted to clarify beforehand!

Sighing tiredly, Y/N slumps her head against her computer, eyelids feeling all too heavy as she stares down at her keyboard.

Just gonna close them real quick... Y/N thinks, allowing her eyes to flutter close with exhaustion creeping up on her.

But as she feels her consciousness start to escape her, she forced them to open once more.

Just need to finish this paper then I can go back. Y/N relents, sitting up again as she shifts in her seat in an attempt to get more comfortable in the metal chair

Maybe she should've chose a better place than some old café to study in, but it's not like she really had a choice now. Finding another place that was even open would be difficult at this time of night.

Speaking of that, she should hurry up if she wants to make it to the dorms before someone notices she left. How annoying, but she supposes it's understandable. After all, they—

Y/N was torn out of her thoughts at the feeling of something nuzzling against her hand.

Blinking in surprise, Y/N shifts her gaze down to see... a cotton ball?

"Oh, it's one of you guys again..." Y/N murmurs in recognition, eyes lighting up with fondness as she shifts her hand so it was laying flat back against the table, allowing the creature to crawl onto her hand.

"You're cute little guys, huh?..." Y/N smiles, raising her other hand to pet it, watching as it preens at the contact, making a purring noise.

Well, these ones specifically were cute. Most were... Y/N pauses, remembering all the monstrous-looking beings that always seemed to watch her. ...odd.

They never harmed her, though. In fact, most seemed to like her. As odd as it was, Y/N never complained.

"Mrp?" The creature nudges against her hand, drawing her out of her thoughts.

"Ah? Oh... Just thinking about something, don't worry." Y/N pats it's head one final time before setting it down next to her computer.

"Mrrrp..." The creature lets out a sad noise, visibly deflating as its body slumps down.

Y/N laughs into her palm, grateful that nobody other than her was here to see the behavior they would surely deem odd.

Well, there was an employee in the back, but... Y/N tilts her head over, glancing through the window to see him slumped over a table with his eyes shut. ...he's clearly occupied.

Y/N reaches her palm out, the creature sliding onto it as she raises her hand against her head, allowing the creature to lay on her head.

"That good enough?" Y/N asks, smiling in amusement as she glances at the window, seeing the reflection of the creature burying itself in her hair, nestled comfortably.

"Mrp!" The creature confirms eagerly.

"That's good, then." Y/N nods in approval, turning back towards her computer as she visibly deflates. "I just have to finish this then we can—"

"Hm? I hope I'm not interrupting something."

Y/N nearly jumps out of her skin at the calm voice, turning to see a man dawned in monk clothing giving her a closed-eye smile.

A priest? Y/N wonders, staring at the man blankly for a moment before remembering what he asked seconds earlier.

"A-Ah, of course not, I was just... ranting to myself." Y/N was aware of how flimsy her lie sounded as she mentally winces.

"I see." The man's eyes peer open, amusement mixed with an unreadable emotion glimmering in them.

"I hope you wouldn't mind if I take a seat." The man says.

"Wha— ah, uh, sure? Why not...?" Y/N nods in agreement, pushing her stuff closer on her so the man could sit down across from her.

Y/N was never known for being the brightest person, but even she could recognize it might not be the best idea to let a strange priest sit with her.

Well, too late to take it back, she supposes.

"You seem to have a bright future ahead, I'm proud of you." The man observes, his tone undeniably genuine.

"Eh? Oh, thanks... just doing my best." Y/N ducks her head down in embarrassment, focusing on the screen infront of her.

Is this how they got people to join cults? Y/N vaguely wonders before shaking that thought away.

"Mrrp..." The creature on her head abruptly growls at the man, startling Y/N as she visibly stiffens.

Keeping her eyes trained on her screen, Y/N does her best to ignore the creature for now, not wanting to seem like a crazy person to the man infront of her.

"Oh?" The man glances up. The action making Y/N pause as she wonders for a moment if he could see the creature too when— "Your friend doesn't seem to like me."

"You can seem them too?" Y/N asks as she scoops the creature into her hands, petting it softly as it melts in her hand, comforted by the hushed voice and soft hands.

The man seems to pause as he watches her comfort the creature, surprise and something unreadable in his expression before he smiles.

"You really are unlike them..." The man mumbles, the words only confusing Y/N further.

"Huh? 'Them'?" Y/N asks, attention drawn away from the creature still held securely in her hand.

But the man doesn't grace her with an answer, looking down at the table with a distant expression.

Y/N's head cocks to the side in confusion, looking at the man before looking at the creature in her hand that was seemingly... glaring at him.

"What's wrong? The last time you did this..." Y/N's quiet voice trails off, not wanting to recount what happened as she looks at the creature with growing concern.

The last time it growled at someone was when some creep tried to grope her on the train, the ominous growl accompanied by a threatening presence scaring the man off.

Though this was unlike the time, the man was odd, sure, but he wasn't acting like the other guy did. The monk honestly just seemed ignorant (or uncaring?) of social norms, which she couldn't blame him for since everyone has their quirks.

"You've grown up to be a nice girl, Y/N." The man compliments, drawing Y/N from her thoughts as she looks up to see the man standing once again.

"Ah, um, thank you?" Y/N replies uncertainly, the man smiling at her in fond amusement before turning and walking out.

Only after a few minutes of silence pass do the words he said truly sink into Y/N, body freezing as she stares at where he was walked off to, feeling as if a cold bucket of water had just been poured over her head.

She had never told the man her name.

© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad

[vintagexherry]

One Hell of an Actor

Ghostface!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

//NSFW,Smut, Dacryphilia,Blood, Dub-Con, glove kink, fear kink, slight gore, murder, slight chasing, stalking, implied yandere, implied panty stealing, home invasion, Minor character death, bit of lore

A/N: I never watched Scream since I never liked horror a kid so im gonna put my own twist.

Requested by: @sukioyakio

----

Miguel was your best partner in crime.

You both met as interns in Alchemax. Although you two didn't get along at first, as time went on, you set differences aside and bonded greatly.

As years went by, both of you quickly climbed to the top and became known geneticists around the science world.

And right now both of you were relaxing on your couch watching the news.

"Creepy, that's a lot for just two weeks." You commented, seeing a person being interviewed about the crime scene. You turned to Miguel, who was resting his face on a closed fist, looking bored. "Do you think it targets specific people?".

Miguel turned to you and smirked.

"Why? You wanna be next?"

You scoffed at him and shook your head lightly. You feel bad about the families that had to endure seeing their love once get brutally murdered.

You suddenly hear your phone ring next to you, you flinced from the loud volume and picked it up, ignoring Miguel's chuckles.

As you see the caller ID, you smiled. It was your boyfriend who was living in another state for awhile due to his job.

Miguel noticed your smile and fought the urge to crush or throw your phone agaist the wall, he recognizes that smile, you never smiled like that to him, you do smile of course but not in the way he wished you'd do.

You stood up from the couch, notifying Miguel that it's your boyfriend and went straight to your bedroom for some privacy.

Miguel knows he's not normal for doing this. He knows he's not normal ever since as a kid. He's been to several therapists about his abnormal behaviour. His aggressiveness always noted to be too much to handle, especially since he beat up several kids in school.

By the age of fifteen, he finally stopped going to those damn therapist, finally deemed as safe and sane.

But little do they know he's one hell of a actor.

Ever since then, he has tried to find multiple outlets for his endless rising anger, he didn't want to go back to those bland and emotionaless buildings, so instead he bought stress toys, but with his strength he always breaks them, He tried punching bags, It lasted longer than stress toys, but with his roughness it would always end up beaten beyond recognition, he tried sex but the people he slept with always complained that he's too rough or it hurts too much.

Finally, he tried murder at the age of twenty.

"Tried." isn't really the right word. In his defence, the guy was an idiot thinking he could rob him when he was just minding his business by walking in the middle of the night.

After another day in college, he wanted to walk home wanting some fresh air. He then felt someone following him, and as he shifted to an alley, he could still hear their footsteps.

The next thing he knows, the guy pulled out a pocket knife and tried to stabbed him, but he dodged in time and punched him in the gut.

The punch seemed to do the trick, but for Miguel, it wasn't enough.

He punched again and again until he heard bones cracking, wet coughs, and warm blood being splattered on him.

He doesn't know how long it has been, but the time he stopped punching the guy was on his knees, sporting multiple bruises, begging him to stop, and started sprouting apologies, or what he could make out of apologies with blood spitting out every word.

But it still wasn't enough.

He saw a glimmer of metal thanks to the moonlight. He realized it was the man's pocket knife who must have dropped during punching spree.

He picked up the knife and chuckled when he noticed how blunt and cheap the knife seemed to be.

The man kneeling on the hard concrete floor started to realize what was about to happen, upon realizing he started to crawl away as fast as he can, trying to ignore the cry of pain of his body and broken bones.

Miguel took his focus away from the knife and glaced at the man, pathetically trying to escape his fate.

Not only is he an idiot who tried to rob him, but he even thinks that he can escape him.

Miguel stepped on the man's ankle, successfully stopping him. Before the man could utter a shout for help, he quickly crouched down and slashed the neck of the man.

Blood splattered everywhere, spraying the floor like spray paint, and painting his hands crimson.

As the man kept withering in place like a worm, his eyes rolled at the back of his head and finally he stopped moving.

Miguel stood up to full height, taking a moment to take in the events that transpired.

He spent a good minute thinking, but nothing came up in his head.

As if on instinct, he dragged the body on the nearby trash bin and threw in it among the other trash.

As he left, he double checked his surroundings for any passerbys, after knowing no one was coming, he pocketed the knife and took off his shoes to avoid leaving footprints and risked his feet to walk on cold concrete.

He's thankful that he was wearing black tonight.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

As he arrived home, he automatically removed his blood-stained clothes, and hopped into the shower.

There,his mind went rampant.

He killed a man.

Murdered him.

Punch his guts till they were mushed into smoothie.

Slashed his neck as if filleting a fish.

He killed a man.

As water and blood drips from his hands to the shower floor, he tries to find in his head any form of guilt.

Nothing

He felt nothing

Nothing but happiness

He never felt this way before, sure his punching bags did the job but not this good.

He felt as if he was Atlas and someone or something finally took off the weight of the world off of him.

He reminisces the sound of breaking bones and squelching blood, and he never heard anything better, even better than those girls he sleeps with when he isn't feeling the punching bag.

After finalizing that his clean of sweat and blood, he dries himself and wraps the towel around his waist.

He suddenly heard his phone ringing from the bedroom.

Once he arrived in the dimly-lit room, the ringing stopped, and in its place was a voicemail.

A voicemail by you.

Ah yes, You.

You both started as interns as much as he remembers.

And he remembers how much of a people pleaser you are.

How annoying it is to watch you say yes with no hesitation when a higher up wanted you to take place of his work station for a minute, you stayed there for hours since he never came back.

But you never complained.

And that annoyed him greatly.

You're too good for your own good.

"Hey, it's me,Y/N L/N, I apologize if I woke up you up or something, I just want to notify you that, surprise! Our research thesis got approved! The higher ups want us to be present by friday evening. He said something about a fancy gala and we both need to dress the best we can, also we can bring a plus one. Im gonna send you the location of the venue, since that's out of the way, I won't bother you anymore and see you soon. Goodnight and congrats again."

He took his phone and played the voicemail while he unwraps himself of his towel and started dressing.

The voicemail ended with a click, and Miguel couldn't help but be tranced by your voice. Sure, you were nothing but a goody two shoes, but you're smart, and he's glad both your hard work paid off. He'll try finding a suit for the said gala.

With that, he turned off his phone and light, heading to bed with a satisfied mind.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Miguel was snap out of his thoughts when you re-enter the living room.

"Guess what! He's coming back next week!" You excitedly informed smiling widely.

"uh huh" Miguel replied his eyes still focusing on the news in front of him.

You scoffed at his reaction, Miguel has never onced show any other emotions other than a scowl or a sarcastic smirk on his face. But he could atleast show something about the news, he knew of your relationship with your boyfriend for several years and he knows how important it is to you that he's finally coming back.

"Is there no hooray or im so happy for you?" You asked, putting your hands on your hips as if your a mother scolding their child.

Miguel rolled his and faced you.

"hooorayyyy, im happy for you." He replied monotonously and went back watching the news.

You sighed, giving up on making him show a bit of emotion but who cares, your boyfriend is coming and you couldn't be anymore excited, you went back to your bedroom, planning to talk to him more, leaving Miguel on his own thoughts again.

Miguel knows for a fact he never liked that pathetic of an excuse you call your boyfriend.

The day of the gala, you bought your boyfriend with you, Miguel didn't bring anyone.

After you and Miguel recieved your awards, Your boyfriend told you his gonna go to the bathroom for a while, You nodded and decided to wait for him while you eat some appetizers on the table.

But Miguel felt suspicious, and it grew seeing your "boyfriend" went to a deserted area of the venue with another woman. Next thing he finds is both of them coming out giggling and panting out of breath.

Disgusting

What do you even see in that guy?

He made eye contact with your boyfriend and all he did was press a finger agaist his lips.

He decided "yea fuck that."

After the gala, you and Miguel went seperate ways to go home and after a few hours he told you of what he saw.

You're smart he can admit that but you can be stupid as fuck in the same time.

You didn't believe a word he said and after you telling him to cut it out, he held himself back from throwing his phone agaist the wall and decided to go out and killed some random drunk lady outside a club who was trying to flirt with him.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"Miguel? Miguellllll, are you there?"

Miguel once again snapped out of his thoughts.

He sigh as he stood up straighter.

"What is it now?"

"I was just gonna go to the grocery since Im missing a few ingredients for dinner, and I was wondering if you could come with me."

Miguel nodded and you thanked him for it.

He kinda wishes he could be alone in your house so he could dig through your dirty laundry again.

But he relented since you once told him that you feel someone is watching you.

Both you and Miguel arrived in the grocery. You're thinking of making some simple Carbonara for dinner. All your missing is cream cheese, garlic, and pepper.

While you're looking for garlic, Miguel opted to carry the basket.

He admits this scenario seems domestic, maybe too domestic, especially when you ask him for his opinions.

After shopping, you paid for your ingredients and went back home.

You wanted to let Miguel stay for dinner since it's the least you could do in return for him coming with you.

There you go again.

Being a goody two shoes.

A good girl, perhaps.

Dinner passed by quickly, and you bid Miguel stay safe as he drove of the night.

You closed and locked your door after saying goodbye, and you double-checked the windows.

After washing the dishes, you head to the bathroom adjacent to your bedroom and prepare to sleep.

You were putting your pyjamas on until you heard a scratching and glass tapping downstairs.

You froze, checking if it was your imagination, thinking maybe it was just stray cats outside.

Silence

...

...

Fuck!

What that your window breaking!?

In a state of panic, you grab your phone and a taser hidden in your drawer and run to hide in your closet.

You hear movement downstairs continue, and with shaky hands, your fingers automatically find Miguel's number and quickly dialed it.

Your heart beats faster the more it rang, and you fear that he's already asleep.

You're surprised the intruder hasn't come upstairs, but you didn't get enough time to dwell on it since Miguel finally awnsered.

Without waiting for his awnser, you quickly spoke with shaking breaths, trying not to be loud but also trying to hold back tears.

"M-Miguel? Please come back fast! I-I-I.....There's someone! in my house!"

"Y/N?" Miguel answered his voice, which seemed to be muffled as if hidden under fabric. You think that he's probably under his blanket.

"Wherever you are, just stay there. I'm coming." Miguel said urgently.

The call ended, and you clutched your taser tighter, hugging your frame, hoping the intruder won't come find you.

After some time you finally heard a familiar voice.

"Y/N! Where are you!" Miguel called from downstairs.

You found the courage to open the closet door. Just in time, Miguel seemed to rush into your room.

"Y/N! Are you ok?" He said as he crouched down to your level, softly placing his hands on both your cheeks.

You didn't know what to say. You're still clutching on the taser and your body is still shivering from fear.

Miguel notice this

"Don't worry, Mi Vida, once I arrived, their already gone."

You could only weakly breath a thank you before resting your forehead on Miguel's shoulder.

And Miguel let you.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

A week has passed since that incident.

Your window got fixed and and you installed a new lock since your previous one got broken down.

Miguel seemed more keen to stay with you more late than ever, he admits he like it, love it even.

You tried denying him, but he insisted, saying that he wants to keep an eye on you.

He kept doing this till you feel sleepy and took that as cue to leave.

One day, your "boyfriend" finally arrived, and you were nothing but ecstatic, hugging and kissing him all over the face.

But he bets another woman did it, too. He bets he enjoyed that job outside the state, but he enjoyed the women there, too.

Since your boyfriend's arrival, he stopped staying late at your place, although he visits from time to time whether you're aware of it or not.

And you feel it.

After that incident weeks ago, you still can't help but feel like as if your being watched.

You told your boyfriend about it and he just kissed your forehead saying it's just your imagination.

You wish it was.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

Several weeks pass, and you slowly but surely forget about the breaking and entering.

Right now, your boyfriend has been to his company since he got called in late at night.

You wanted to wait, but he insisted you should get some sleep since you still have work tomorrow.

You finally relented since he was right.

After covering his supposed dinner in the fridge, you triple check every lock, the doors, the windows, everything.

You finally go upstairs to get some shut eye, but as you go up stairs you screamed.

By the balcony, someone wearing full-on black with a mask enters your bedroom, seemingly unborthered by your shout.

He stood there as if taking in your fearful expression, more so enjoying it.

You wanted to call your boyfriend or get the taser, but it's all in your drawer that you can't reach due to the guy who can snap you like a twig is just standing at.

"Oh, were you looking for this?"

You got snapped out of your thoughts when you hear his deep, muffled voice.

in his hands he holds a cellphone, not just any cellphone.

Your boyfriend's cellphone....Splattered with what seems to be blood.

If you weren't scared a while ago, you're petrified now.

Without thinking, you rushed downstairs, heading for the door to shout for help.

But he was fast.

Maybe too fast.

You heard his heavy footsteps too late until you were carried like you were weightless and placed upon his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You're really panicking now.

You screamed and shouted for help, hoping neighbours would hear you while you flailed your legs and beat at his back with all your strength, especially since blood is rushing to your head.

smack!

You yelp from the stinging pain on your ass.

Before you could complain, your were thrown agaist your own bed.

Ohgod is he gonna kill you here?

Leave your body to rot until the police finds it?

Be another victim for people to see on the news?

You tried to crawl away, but he just grabbed your ankle and pulled you back as he started climbing over you.

Nononono.

He can't possibly!

"You know..."

His muffled deep voice startled you again.

"Fear looks good on you.." he finished

You tried processing what he said but didn't have enough time till his large gloved hands ripped away your only protection against him.

The sound of fabric tearing just brings more tears to your face.

"P-p-pplease don't," you pleaded as you tried covering yourself.

He didn't say anything but removed your arms, which left you exposed for him to see.

He gathered your arms and held it above your head with one hand.

His other hand started trailing down and forced your legs open, making space for him in between.

Heavy tears were now streaming down on you, but that didn't seem to bother him. In fact, it probably made him more excited since you felt a bulge nudging your folds.

"Nonono, please no."

You pleaded again

He ignored again

You look down, and he wasted no time sliding a gloved finger into you, putting it on a slow pace.

"Mierda, look at yourself. You're perfect."

You couldn't say anything, your voice can't be trusted, and all you could do was choke on your tears.

The more his gloved finger moves, the more he seems to hit certain spots.

You try to deny it, but he seemed to be an expert at what he's doing.

He added more fingers

He added speed to his pace

You tried holding your whimpers, but it was deemed useless.

The man only seemed to chuckle at your attempt.

"Hide all you want, I know how to get it out of you."

Before you could process what he said, he curled his finger upward, sucessfully hitting that spot that made you moan loudly.

He laughed.

"Told you so."

The faster his fingers go, the more you're reaching your climax, and you hate yourself for it.

But before you did, he took his gloved fingers out and started unbuckling his pants.

If he isn't the monster, the thing between his legs definitely is.

You gulp at the sheer size of it.

"Nonono please, it-it won't fit!"

Yet again, your pleas are ignored

"Shut up and take it." he snarled and you cowered in fear.

He didn't bother wasting his time as he shoved his entire length in one go.

You screamed, he really was too big and it hurt. The man above did nothing pleasurely groan out.

"FUCK Y/N THAT'S IT!" His shout muffled by the mask.

He didn't waste any more time and started a rough and fast pace, making the bed creak from the strength.

You couldn't hold back your moans anymore and continued to spill whimpers and gasps.

The man continued his fast pace again and again.

Until you feel it, you started to tighten and your legs began to shake.

"I-Im gonn-a AH!" without warning you came, creaming around the man's cock.

It didn't seem to bother him since he tightened his hold on your hands, and his hips started to stutter.

"Come on ugh- that's it-"

Your body feels more and more sensitive as he goes, drool, sweat, and tears cover your face

Finally, his hips stop as warm fluid fills you from the inside.

Both of you panted and tried to catch your breath, but in a moment of clarity, you panic since he didn't wear any protection.

But before you could say anything, his hand finally let go of your wrists above your head. He moved to remove his mask, and you froze when you saw who it was.

"Mi....Miguel?" you hoarse voice called.

"bu-but, wh-"

You were interrupted when a strong pair of lips covered your own in a passionate kiss. More drool slipped out of you.

Miguel let go of your lips leaving you breathless.

"Im just one hell of an actor baby."

The End

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

GIMMIE YOUR HCS ANY AND ALL OF HIM RN (heisenberg) 🔫😤

Okay, okay, okay! 🫶🏻

Here's the SFW Heisenberg HC list! You can find the NSFW one here 🖤

Very big thank you goes to @queer-crusader for indulging me in the Heisenberg brain rot 🖤🫶🏻

SFW Karl Heisenberg Head Canons:

🛠 Although Karl obviously got a temper, I can see him using feeling his emotions so intensely towards other things, too. Like caring and perhaps even pampering his beloved. Using his sometimes annoyingly headstrong attitude to sit down at his work bench for hours, tinkering rings and bracelets and maybe even a delicate necklace until he crafted something he deems worthy to gift you 💍

🛠 "Self-care...? The fuck's that now??" His reaction would be exactly the point why you sat him down to carefully pitch a few things to him. "When have you cut your hair the last time?" You arched your eyebrows. "What do I now and why the fuck does it matter?!" You pinch the bride of your nose and exhale a sigh. "Karl, it wouldn't hurt if you'd take some care of yourself. Or let me do it, yeah?" He practically glares at you from across the edges of his glasses before he answers: "Fuck that, absolutely not! Not gonna let you anywhere near that face with scissors." Your shoulders plummet down as you watch him stomp away with his hands thrown in the air but that certainly wasn't your last attempt.

🛠 Once Karl got a taste of not being alone in that nightmare factory of his, he'd very begrudgingly seek out your company in more intimate and personal moments than having you around in his workshop or sharing meals with you. The first time it happened, you'd thought this to be it, the end, el final, as you heard him sneaking into your room in the dead of night. Maybe you'd done something so horrendously wrong that he decided to toss you out for good. You froze to your saggy mattress, unable to move until the creaking of the floorboards stopped. You bit down on your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, panic and fear cursing through your bloodstream but all of that almost evaporated into a shrill, hysteric laugh as you felt his massive form cup yours from behind. Gently spooning you from behind, one arm tenderly yet firm around your waist. He was warm...and weirdly comfortable, cuddly even and yet he'd be gone way before you'd wake up again. Neither of you talking about it at all.

🛠 Temper tantrums 😐 Temper tantrums all the time. Like a little boy who didn't get his favourite candy and now set his mind to making it everybody's problem. He'd roar and cuss through the entire factory until you'd have had enough at some point. Instead of trying to calm him down with gentle words and affirmations, you started ignoring him. For the first few times, that enraged Karl even more, his tantrums turning into a metal bending and tearing rage fit but the longer you stopped talking to him, even going so far as refusing to look at him, the more he quieted down. Eventually sitting down to apologize through gritted teeth and with crossed arms in front of his chest.