#another drabble from the vault!

[password-door-lock]

“What is this?” Unknown demands, giving the oversized cup a once-over. He does not appreciate the tacky snowflake print any more than he appreciates the fact that it is decidedly not what he asked for.

You shoot him a sheepish smile that he could really do without, before stabbing the sheer plastic lid of your drink with a large pastel pink straw identical to the one waiting for him on the dashboard. “You said you wanted something that would keep you awake.”

Unknown grits his teeth. It's like he has to spell every little thing out for you lest you should fuck it up— maybe he shouldn't really be surprised, considering he's had to deal with your antics for months now, but that doesn’t mean he’s pleased with your behavior. “I wanted an energy drink.” He may not drink them often, but they come in handy when he spends long hours on surveillance missions such as this one. 

“Oh.” You wrinkle your brow, looking genuinely apologetic. “I'm sorry. I wish you would have said something— hopefully this will be okay, though. It does have a lot of caffeine and sugar— plus, I got us some pastries, too.”

You brandish a box (also printed with snowflakes) which looks big enough to contain more than enough pastries for the two of you. “Next time, get me what I ask for.” He shouldn’t have to say that, but Unknown understands now that it’s better to err on the side of caution when giving you directions. 

“Of course.” You don't contest the fact that he never explicitly asked you for an energy drink, which, to your credit, does improve Unknown's mood infinitesimally. He’s not in the mood for an argument today, any more than he’s in the mood for… whatever you’re trying to give him now. “But, listen, this should give you enough energy to stay up until we're back at Magenta, anyway. And they're doing a promotion for winter— see the little flap in the cup? There's a plushie keychain behind it.”

“Next time, I'll go with you into the store,” Unknown decides, too caught up in his own thoughts to consider the new information that you’ve offered. None of the work that he got done while you were in the coffee shop makes up for the potential risks associated with leaving you to your own devices for so long. He sincerely hopes that the Savior doesn't look at her card history for this evening, because he has no interest in explaining why so many ridiculous things were purchased in the name of the Mint Eye.

You're not listening to him, either, already prying open the little door in the side of your cup to get to the plushie. Unknown is irrationally annoyed about this, and he stews in his anger as you withdraw the stupid little thing. “Aw,” you look dejected, which  comforts him. “Damn.” You might be annoying, but at least your pouting face is cute. 

“What's the problem, prince(ss)?” Angry or not, Unknown will never pass up an opportunity to mess with you.  

“I don't really like this character,” you confess, “Like, it’s fine, I guess, but I was hoping to get something else.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Unknown murmurs mockingly, reveling in your disappointment just as he indulges in all of your emotions. He really does enjoy his time with you, all things considered— but, then again, he never would have picked you if he didn’t want to be around you. 

“You should open yours.” Now you're giving him puppy-dog eyes, which has never been a particularly effective method in your dealings with Unknown— of course, that’s never stopped you before, and he apparently can’t expect it to stop you this time, either. “Please? It's already paid for. It would be a waste if you just left it.” 

Unknown considers this. As much as he doesn't want to listen to you when you try to give him orders, he is just a bit curious about what might be inside the cup. And you do have a point— it is already paid for. Even though he doesn't want it, if there's any enjoyment to be had from this irresponsible decision of yours, he may as well revel in that, too, before the Savior finds out what has taken place and limits his use of the Mint Eye credit card. Most likely, he'll no longer be allowed to leave you unattended with it. 

Whatever. It takes him a moment to get the stupid thing out of the little door— he ends up just ripping the extra bottom compartment off of the rest of the cup and tossing it on the floor of the car. He figures that you can clean it up later. He studies the prize— it’s just some plush cartoon character that he’s never heard of, though you seem to recognize it, if the way that your eyes widen as you study the thing is anything to go on. “What?” He demands, clutching the plushie in his closed fist. 

“Can we trade?” You ask sheepishly, holding out your keychain like you expect him to take it. “You got my favorite character.” 

Unknown finds himself grinning. He didn’t care at all about the plushie before, but he very much enjoys knowing that he has something that you want. He offers you a smug chuckle before clipping the keychain ring to his belt loop. “No,” he says firmly, “I like this one.” 

But his words and actions fail to have the desired effect. You just grin right back at him, silently clapping your hands as if pleased by his performance. Unknown stares up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell he’s going to do with you. As if you can read his thoughts, you select this moment to be extra-annoying:  “Now try the drink,” you order, “I promise you’ll love it.”

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Heyyy I was wondering if you could do a rooster x reader where the reader and rooster have like 8 kids and the rest of the dagger squad meets the reader and roosters kids and are all shocked at how many kids rooster has? Maybe 7 boys and 1 girl who’s his absolute angle btw just something very soft cute and sweet

Aww that's such a cute idea! Thanks for the request, anon <3 Hope you like it!

Rooster's Brood

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Summary: The squad gets a little surprise in the form of Rooster spawn.

CW: fluff, dad Rooster, Rooster loves his hot wife, some Hannix vibes, Hangman may actually be the superstar of this drabble..oops

Masterlist

“Uh, Rooster.” Jake furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “There’s a kid behind you making faces. No, scratch that,” he adds, a look of concern washing over his features. “There are two of them. Or am I seeing double?” He blinks several times and rubs his eyes.

Bradley grins at Jake while the rest of the squad gathers around to investigate the situation. When Bradley turns around, the two boys rush at him with open arms. Bradley squats down to gather them up.

“Rooster, I don’t know how to tell you this,” Natasha says warily. “But there are more of them coming your way.”

The group of aviators look down the beach to see five more boys of various ages gunning for Rooster.

“Maybe he used to be a kindergarten teacher?” Bob says hopefully, brushing sand from his shorts.

“Either that or he’s finally found a likeminded group of individuals who share his level of intellect,” Jake says with a grimace.

“Why would you insult the children like that, Hangman?” Javy says with a smile. Jake chuckles while Natasha rolls her eyes at them, shaking her head.

Mickey steps forward, squinting into the afternoon sun. “There’s a girl too.”

At this point, the rest of the boys have crowded around Bradley’s legs, fighting one another off as they try to climb up his body. Despite the ruckus, Bradley seems to be having the time of his life, holding a twin boy in each arm as the rest of the brood takes turns trying to tackle him to the ground.

“Seriously, where the fuck are all these little people coming from?” Jake mutters as a little girl runs barefoot across the beach toward Bradley.

Natasha gives him a hard smack on the shoulder. “Bagman, language!”

Jake looks over at her with a shocked expression, rubbing his arm in bewilderment. “Phoenix, you can’t just go around hitting people. What kind of example are you setting for the juveniles?”

Phoenix shoots him an annoyed glance as Bradley crouches to set the twins down. He’s got one knee on the ground and a huge grin on his face as he stretches his arms out toward the little girl. Meanwhile, the rest of the kids are vaulting him tirelessly. Bradley laughs, bracing himself to stay upright.

The little girl finally arrives and Bradley scoops her up into his arms, standing up and holding her tightly against his chest. She lays her head on his shoulder and he rests his cheek on top of her hair. “Hi princess,” he says, swaying back and forth as he cradles her against his body.

“Hi daddy,” the girl says sweetly.

Jake’s eyes widen as he glances between Natasha and Mickey. “Daddy?” he mouths in utter shock.

Natasha can’t formulate a response because she’s just as surprised as Jake is.

“I missed you, daddy,” the girl says.

“I missed you too, angel,” Bradley mutters softly, squeezing her tighter as the boys bounce around the two of them, goofing off in the sand.

“I count twelve,” Jake says, his eyebrows scrunched up. “You?”

Natasha looks over at him with a grimace. “There are seven. No, wait. Eight, with the girl.”

Jake nods with his jaw jutted out musingly. “I may have counted some of them twice. They move so fast. And they all kind of look alike.”

“They all kind of look like Rooster,” Mickey points out.

Bradley strokes his little girl’s hair as he cranes his neck to observe a figure walking in the distance. He smiles as you approach, your long sundress flowing in the breeze. You’re carrying tiny sandals in your hand.

“Is that the wife, Bradshaw?” Reuben calls out as Bradley’s kids begin to circle his legs. Reuben cups his hands over his package protectively, wincing as they swarm around him.

“Are you kidding?” Jake says. “He wishes; that woman is way out of his league.”

Bradley turns to give Jake a smirk. “I agree.”

You smile at your husband, having heard the latest interaction. Bradley glimpses back at you, squinting slightly from the sun, and holds out his arm toward you with your daughter still on his hip. You lean into his side and he instantly pulls you closer, kissing you passionately on the lips.

“Rooster, there are children present,” Jake says, cringing.

“And very immature adults,” Natasha adds.

Jake gives her a pointed look. “At least you’re self-aware,” he retorts.

Rooster ignores his friends’ exchange, giving you some additional kisses on your lips, and then peppering the rest of your face with quick kisses. You laugh and his hold tightens around your waist as he continues kissing you over and over again. You feel his lips spreading into a smile as he chuckles over your temple, but he doesn’t stop kissing you until you finally pull away.

You look at the stunned faces around you with a sheepish grin as Bradley watches you with a mixture of pride and admiration on his face. He kisses your daughter’s head and sets her down gently. Then, he approaches you with a mischievous look. His shirtless body is glistening with sweat and you struggle to not objectify your husband. But you haven’t seen him in weeks and he looks so good that you find yourself failing miserably at this task. Bradley’s smirk indicates that he’s amply aware of just how much you’re craving him and, once he’s close enough, he wraps both arms around your waist and tugs you forward.

“Looks like we’ve got some babysitters,” Bradley says in a low voice.

You chuckle. “I don’t know, eight aviators versus eight of your kids? I’m not optimistic.”

Bradley laughs. “I have faith in my squad.” You look around his massive shoulder to see Jake pick up one of your boys and flip him upside down. Your son screams with glee while the rest of your kids rush toward Jake to get a turn. Natasha is watching on with a small smile, her arms folded over her chest. Before you can respond, Bradley leans down to place his arm under your legs. With his other arm supporting your back, he swiftly lifts you off the ground as you yelp in surprise.

“Alright, kids,” Bradley says. “We’ll be back.”

“Just to clarify,” Jake says, now holding two of your children by the ankles while they wriggle in his grasp. “We’re the kids you’re referring to, right?”

Bradley nods at him. “Children, keep an eye on Uncle Jake, he can be a handful.”

Jake scoffs with a laugh. “What about you, Phoenix?” Jake turns to look at her. “Ever think about having little crotch goblins of your own?”

Bradley shakes his head at Jake. “That is possibly the worst pickup line I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

You laugh, hiding your face in the crook of Bradley’s neck. As he carries you away, you hear Natasha say, “Not until today.”

Read Part 2

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[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟭𝟬: 𝘆𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗱𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝗮𝗯-𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗳𝗿𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. ab-riding. pierre gasly is his own warning. no penetrative sex. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: yuki tsunoda x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: drabble. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best friend • saweetie ft. doja cat

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: this is actually the dirtiest fic, in theory yk. yuki has my heart, and i'm single handedly going to fill tumblr with my posts about him, thank you, good night.

do you want to be added to my general taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

you can’t stand his smug ass smirk. he knows damn well how you feel about his thirst traps. sure, alphatauri milks any chance of plastering yuki across their social media page to fail at distracting fans from the fact that their the slowest car on the grid, and that they can’t build a car that doesn’t fall apart like legos. but, yuki, posting practically-naked (he’s only shirtless, so really you’re mildly exaggerating) pictures on his main instagram page?? he’s not george-fucking-russell, so, why the hell would he do that?

there’s only two answers to this question, and they’re both correct. one, pierre gasly—the french bastard. you can’t leave them together unsupervised. and two, to make you mad. 9which you very much are, so, yuki achieved what he wanted. he’s especially thrilled, when you shove him down onto your bed, and straddle his lap, angrily tugging his shirt off. yuki grins up at you, satisfied at where a simple shirtless picture lead him to. he should listen to pierre more often, his ex-teammate might have good ideas, however rare they are. once his shirt is off, you freeze, breathing heavily as you drink in the sight of his torso. you lean forward and start sucking marks into his pecs, biting into the meat of his chest, and tracing the definition of his abs with your tongue. yuki’s moans rumble in his chest, and he lets his eyes flutter shut and basks under the thorough claim you’re leaving on his body. at least you’re kind enough to avoid placing any marks high enough to where they could be seen from the neck of a shirt—alphatauri will just have to post pre-filmed videos they have in the vault while your hickeys fade, they’ll survive.

you erratically jerk away again, and strip your bottoms off, shoving your underwear down and tossing them behind you. you tug your shirt up until it bunches under your armpits, and you drag the cups of your bra underneath your chest, causing them to spill over the top obscenely. roughly grabbing at your boyfriend’s hands, you direct them to grasp at your boobs, and command, “keep your abs flexed.” yuki makes a noise of confusion, but you don’t elaborate any further. you lower yourself to sit on his abdomen, and grind across him slowly, testing the waters. your head falls forward from the zing of pleasure that races up your spine, and you quickly start rabbiting your hips across the dips and ridges of his muscles. 

yuki is rendered speechless at your motions. he was expecting you to ride his dick, not his abs. he’s not going to complain about this, though. you’re rubbing yourself off on his torso—your moans are bitten off and rough, and your grinds are deep and forceful to make sure your clit catches on every sharp edge of his abdomen. it’s the dirtiest thing yuki’s ever seen you do, usually he’s the one being unhinged. he squeezes at your chest rhythmically, dropping his hands to your chest eventually to watch how your breasts bounce at every shift you make—he sighs contentedly, this is heaven. 

he brings one hand to reach around you and palm himself over his shorts, but is denied the chance to do so. you hiss at him meanly, and pull his hand back to your waist, eyes flashing at him in warning. yuki falters under the commanding glint of your gaze, maybe he pushed you too far this time. he adjusts his grip on your body and takes some of the load off you, and guides your hips against his body for you—he could feel your thighs begin to tremble in exhaustion and based on how deadest you’ve become on getting yourself off on his abs, he doesn’t want to feel any additional wrath when your release slips from your grasp. 

a squeal of relief rattles through your chest at how yuki does the hard work for you. he moves your body exactly how you crave, and you find it incredibly difficult to remember why you were mad in the first place. instead of your thighs shaking in tiredness—you’re thankfully not used to being the one putting all the work in, your boyfriend’s stamina is appreciated—they begin to quiver as you get closer to cumming. your own hand comes to tug at your nipples, looking for any last flare of pleasure to push you over the edge. the wetness you’ve spread across his abs has started to lessen the friction you feel against your cunt. yuki sees the frustration furrowing your brow, and shifts his right hand down over your navel so his thumb can rub at your clit. you gasp, throwing your head back at white-hot burst of contentment behind your eyes, and all it takes is a few more furious passes of yuki’s fingers on your cunt, as the coil snaps inside your core, and waves of bliss crash over you.

yuki slips his hand away, and guides you to ride out the aftershocks on his abs. he moans at the sight of pure satisfaction on your face, and how you’ve soaked his torso, reminding him what belongs to you, with no room for vagueness. you eventually slow your roll, and fall to the side off yuki. the two of you pant as you stare at the ceiling, allowing the rapid beats of your hearts to slow.

you tilt your head to face him, and smile dopily at the sight of yuki staring at his navel. you’ve drenched him with your release, and it glistens beautifully on his tanned skin. if you were truly unhinged, you’d take a picture with your hand rubbing your wetness across his skin, and post it for everyone to see. the contrasting shades of your skin under the light of golden hour would look perfect. it would probably cost your boyfriend’s career, so maybe that’s not an equal exchange. 

hummingly faintly, you stumble off 9ithe bed, legs still shaking as you walk towards the bathroom. “you can get yourself off. you’re not fucking me for a week—“ yuki makes an alarmed noise, sputtering in disbelief, struggling to find his words, “oh, don’t get mouthy with me. i could make it so you never fuck me again—i just gave you enough material to last you for that long.” you slam the bathroom door shut, and yuki’s mouth hangs open in shock. fuck, pierre. he’s never listening to his suggestions ever again.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

© httpsserene 2023

[winterarmyy]

Never Lie To Me

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Y/N's sinful thoughts towards the Asset is reciprocated.

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x hydra agent!female!reader

Words: 3.4k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, purely smut and lack of plot, honestly. messy writing and lack of dialogue, sorry for that. Others may include probably incorrect russian due to the use of google translate, marking kink (if you squint), metal hand kink, finger-fucking, clit spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, soldat doesn't talk much, i figured he is more reserved but that doesn't mean his actions are (*wink wink*) he is kinda rough but the reader highkey loves it, just bunch of horny pent-up mfs getting some action for once, y'know.

Inspiration: "Cause I can see you waiting down the hall for me and I can see you up against the wall with me." – I Can See You (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't understand why was she sent to this field mission. There were literally dozens of others that were much suitable to do it and yet they chose her of all people? Considering her much leisure job for the past months, which basically just to guard a lab, Hydra seemed to forgot that her body have been lack of combat practice.

She hated this. This mission. This organization. All of it.

Y/N was one of those kids that Hydra stole from the orphanages for their Phantom program; it is where they train, or accurately brainwash, the kids into highly skilled assassin. And she was one of the top 5 out of the program in her batch.

But after a certain incident in one of the mission in Peru, she was temporarily relocated to Siberia to, as they say, "recover" before they can assign get into another mission. There, she was given a much lenient task, which was to guard the lab where the Winter Soldiers were created.

Those few months was both heaven and hell for her; heaven was that she didn't need to be soaked in the blood of the innocent lives and hell was that she had to be a bystander to the cruelty of the dehumanizing process of the Winter Soldier program.

Sure, everything Hydra does to its "followers" are, by nature, imbrute. I mean, she was trained like a dog since she was but a child, but this. This was just another level of evil. Such vile and merciless thing to do to another human being. The muzzles that Hydra shoved in their mouth doesn't really help to reduce the excruciating noises that they made.

Though, while she was physically forced to witness the atrociousness, there was one constant thing that kept her mind off from it all.

They call him the Asset. In fact he was the first one. But she'd rather think of him simply as a man sleeping in a cryo chamber.

Y/N had heard of this "monster", the rumours were terrible as they come and go, but she find it hard to believe that when the soldat had such a calm and kind expression on his face, even if his features were frozen in ice. That was her first impression of him; then day by day, and what felt like ages, she watched him.

Her curiosity got the best of her when she started to think of scenarios and possibilities that the man had quickly became her escape from the horrid reality around her.

Though she spend most of her time trying not to feel it, but the other times, well... the thoughts went a little wild. At one point, they got too personal even for her own mind to comprehend.

After a month of reporting at the new post, she heard the whispers of "thawing the asset" from other agents and scientists around the lab. And surely enough, one of those day, the soldat was brought back from his slumber.

It didn't cross her mind before, of what color laid behind those closed lids. But when she saw his eyes for the first time, she was in complete awe. They were blue as the vast ocean she once jet-skied over; but they were as cold like when she stepped foot at this snow covered facility.

The contrast of his dark hair and tanned skin only makes his bright eyes to become the most prominent feature on his face. And Y/N just couldn't tear her gaze away, especially when the Hydra agent that supposed to retrieve him was making such a big fuss over how slow the soldat was reacting to their commands.

What do they expect? He was literally frozen for lord knows how long just a few seconds ago. Everything must be dissociating for him. So of course, the man's mind and body needs time to adjust.

The soldat abruptly fell on his knees after exiting the chamber, causing one of the guards to strike a kick across his face, "вставай, паршивая собака! (Get up, you lousy dog!)"

And that was it, Y/N had enough of it, "Hey!" she shouted as her stomped towards the guards. The duo quickly stood straight and showed their respect to her; knowing that those who graduated from Phantom program has higher ranking than them.

The moment Y/N found her footing in front of him, the palm of her hand landed harshly across his face, "Do you realized what you just did?" She asked as the taller regained to his prior composure.

"That man!" She pointed at the soldat who was obediently sitting on the floor, "Is Hydra's most prized asset. He alone is worth thousands of you useless scumbags. And you had the audacity to lay your hands on him?!" She roared and the lab fell into silent.

The two guards can only bite on their own tongue knowing what she said was true. The soldat was in fact the Hydra's precious weapon, as for now that he was the only one who successfully weilded the super soldier serum in his veins.

Y/N walked around and stood in front of the soldat, "Are you hurt, soldat?" she asked as her gaze fell on him. His head was hanging low as he bored his empty eyes into the shine of Y/N's black boots; he shook his head and replied, "No, ma'am"

She knew he was lying, especially when she saw the drips of blood on his pants, "Look at me." She ordered in which the soldat complied. And there it was, the source of the mess, the red cut on the corner of his lips. Her frown only deepened when the bruises were slowly forming on his cheek bones.

Y/N crouched to his level, as her hand reaching for his cheeks. His body halted and stiffened when she approached, but only to be surprised by the soft carress of her fingers on his face, "If you're not injured, then what's this?" She whispered lowly; a tone where just the two of them can hear.

The soldat's empty eyes almost melt in hers; he never saw her before, who is she? Why was there so much kindness in her eyes? And why was she holding him so gently?

He let her careful thumb wiped the blood from his chin before whispered again, "Never lie to me, soldat. Do you understand?"  The soldat obediently nodded as a spiral of indescribable emotions stirred within him. His eyes lingered at the way her lips formed into a soft smile, "Good." She praised.

Since then, the soldat's gaze had remain on her almost all the time. From the moment she threatened the two guards, to the time she looked away from the tortured candidates of the Winter Soldier program, to this very second as she undresses every part of her suit.

Though the mission was a success however, their plane was utterly wrecked by an unforeseen mini gun. So they were forced to walk through the snow storm and find shelter at one of Hydra's safe house.

It was not rare for the soldat to be paired with other agents on a mission but never with a woman. Much less the pretty little bunny that he had been obsessing over. Ever since that incident, the soldat often think of her. And he really tried too keep everything professional but something within him changed lately.

One particularly distinct moment that he experienced that made it clear to him; it was when he was waiting in the hall for his handlers to drag him around the facilities, and she happen to walk towards him from the opposite side. And when he brushed pass her, he noticed how his hands was itching to grab her by the neck and push her up against the wall.

As if there was this strong urge to claim her, mark her, fuck her. That was when he realized. The soldat wanted her. He wanted ruin her for everyone else. He wanted her to be his. But, he knew they keep watchful eyes on him. On both of them. And he can't risk that.

But now that she was standing right in front of him, in her underwear no less, how was he supposed to control himself?

Y/N turned her attention towards the soldat, he stood absolutely still that she almost thought he was literally frozen, "Why are you not stripping? Even with that super soldier serum in you, I doubt that you don't feel cold from those snow-soaked clothes."

Maybe it was the dim-lit room, but she swore that the soldat eyes darkened when she walk towards him. Especially when his eyes ranked the way her wet undergarments stick onto her skin.

How many times did she fantasize about the way he was looking at her. How many times did she made herself cum from the thoughts on grinding her cunt into his metal fingers.

Too many to count.

Especially when, in her head, she could see him in his suit with his knives, she could see him throwing his black mask on the floor, she could see him bending her over to his will, she could see him make her want him, crave him, need him.

And whenever their eyes met, she often think of the what-ifs between them. Like, what would he do if she went to touch him now? What would he do if Hydra never found them out? What would he do if they never made a sound?

What would he think if she made him her own personal addiction? Then will he entertain her fantasies by making her his own secret mission?

"Remember what I told you, soldat?" She asked as her hands reached for his mask.

Without hesitation, the soldat replied, "Never lie to you." as his face was bare for her to see.

Y/N took a step forward, so close that he could almost feel her skin on him, "Now tell me, what do you want?" Her eyes found his diluted ones as he lifted his gaze from her cleavage to meet hers.

His cock was rather truthful even from the beginning; now more than before when it twitched painfully in the confinement of his pants. The soldat hissed to the feel of it before he confessed, "I want you."

Y/N couldn't help but to smile, "Then, have me, soldat."

That was all he needed to hear. Her permission to have her, to own her. Then, very next second, he had her body pinned firmly against the wall, his lips on her soft ones, his wet tongue exploring in her mouth.

The soldat had his metal hand gripping the back of her neck, not wanting that pretty head of hers to hit the wall; while the other hand unabashedly teared the bra off from her body.

Breaking the kiss, the soldat's lustful gaze watched how her breasts became bare for him. So pretty and perky. His cock twitched madly as if it was ordering him to touch them, suck on them. And he did just that.

The soldat took her right nipple into his hot mouth while his free hand pawed on the other. Y/N moaned lewdly at roughness of his hand and mouth. When she threw her head back, that was when she saw it. At the corner of the room, she noticed a CCTV camera directly situated towards their direction

She grabbed a handful of his long hair, and lightly tugged him back but he refused to stop sucking on her. Y/N huffed when she whispered, "They're watching us."

That was when the soldat quickly released her from his mouth and quickly hovered his huge body over her, he growled possessively as his quick eyes scanned for all the nearby camera.

Y/N chuckled amusingly at his reaction, "Do you not like it when they watch us?" She teased. The soldat growled again as he pulled her closer, her nipples perked even more now that they touched the cold fabric of his clothes, "Mine. Mine alone." He declared.

Y/N looked up at him with a pair of seductive eyes, "Then, what are you going to do about it?" She taunted. The soldat swiftly pulled his knives out from his thigh strap and threw it directly at the lens of each camera in the room. Now no one would have a chance witness her divine body, or see what her face looks like when he make her cum.

There weren't much of intelligible words that came out of his mouth after that, besides the grumble noises of the word "mine".

The soldat latched her mouth onto her skin, particulary around her neck, collarbone and the valley of her breast. He kissed and licked and sucked to leave his mark on her as his metal hand dug into her hips.

Meanwhile, the flesh of his right hand slide right into her panties. He fingers trailed the outer slit of her cunt; as if he was purposely teasing her, "Зайка (bunny)" he groaned against her neck when he felt how wet she was. She squirmed needily under his hand, when his middle finger poked her entrance while his thumb grazed across her clit.

"So wet, all for me?" He purred as his finger slowly dug into her hole. Y/N whined and grabbed his wrist before he could go any further, "Want your metal fingers, soldat." she slurred deliriously; already drunk with his touches.

It took all his might to not fuck her right there and then when she let him have her. The soldat wanted to treat her gently, prepare her sweetly. Now that she had confessed such sinful desire, something in him just snapped.

He pulled his hand out, and effortlessly ripped her panties from her body before lifting one of her legs up, pushing her thighs towards her body. She yelped at the sudden roughness, embarrassment crept across her spine when the soldat licked his lips at the sight of her cunt, wide open for him.

"Want my metal fingers huh,  Зайка (bunny)?" He trailed his metal fingers along her wet hole, "You got it." He abruptly shoved two of his digits into her, causing her to let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion.

The soldat didn't give her time to adjust, he simply pulled his fingers out to the very tip and thrust it back into her. And he does it again, and again and again. Until the pain turn into sheer pleasure.

When her eyes rolled back and shut close, the soldat growled disapprovingly, "No. Don't close your eyes. Look. Look down. Watch how your wet little hole take my metal fingers. That's it. Look at you. Fuck. Look. At. You." His pace didn't lose its rhythm when he fucked his fingers hard and fast; he curled them just right every time he hit that deep spot inside her.

His metal fingers was better that she had ever imagine, and the sight that she was looking at was so lewd that she was already so overstimulated from it, then when his thumb circled her clit, she thought she was seeing actual stars.

Streams of fluid was squelching everytime he shoved his fingers knuckles deep into her, that it trickled down his hand. It was so messy and the soldat loves it. He want her to be this messy all the time. He wanted to clean her up with his tongue. Lick every drip of her sweet fluid, swollow it like he was thristy and she was water.

At the this point, he would be willing to stay on his knees if it means that he get to have her cunt on his mouth always.

The soldat growled at the way she moaned so shamelessly at how harsh his fingers was violating her sweet pussy. He kept on rubbing on her clit and watched her body shuddered when he slap on it. Seeing her reaction, he continued to spank her clit and he fucked her harder; one, two, three, four, until she cried out a long moan and her pussy gushed with her creamy cum.

And seeing how her body trembled, her cream dripping out onto his hand, the soldat almost combust in his pants. Though apart of him wanted to feel her sweaty skin on his own, another just wanted to feel her warm pussy.

So, instead of wasting more of his time undressing himself, the soldat hurriedly unzipped his pants to release his aching cock out. He pulled his finger out and licked her cum clean while his other hand lazily pumped his leaking length, "Taste so good, Зайка (bunny). Bet you feel good too."

Y/N whined at his action, he looked so hot and bothered. And something about him fully clothed while pumping his needy cock for her; it just drives her to near feral. She let out an exasperated gasp when the soldat maneuvered her legs to cling around his waist, while his hand gripped on her hips. Her voice then stuck on her throat when he thrust his cock deep inside in one stroke.

His size was stretching her out so much that it burned, a good type of burn; in fact, the best type. The soldat on the other hand almost burst his cum the moment he entered her. She felt so good. Better that his rough hands when he jerked off to the though of her. But he was determined to make her cum on his dick before he get his own high.

So without letting her adjust to his size, he slowly pulled out and harshly slammed right back into her; fuck does it feel so good. And her mewling so needily for him does not help the situation at all. He repeated the same thing over and over until he managed to suck up his need to cum, then fasten his pace. And the sound of her wetness rubbing against his cock when he pounded into her was so damned and sinful, that never wanted to forget.

Her back repeatedly hit the wall from the force of his thrust that she needed to hold on his shoulders for support. His pace was fast and deep, almost erratic. Her moans broken when she felt the tip of her cock ramming at her womb, her walls clenching in delight to welcome such huge and hot length inside her. Every stroke was perfect and if she had no self-control she would be cumming each time the soldat forced his cock into her.

His hips slapped against her and she eagerly followed his every thrust, desperate to meet his skin as much as he was for her. And when she looked up to him, the soldat was looking directly into her. His ocean blues dove into her soul as his grunts tangled with her cries.

His breathing stuttered and his pace flatter. She could tell he was getting close. But, the soldat refused to; not until she cum first.

In and out. In and out. His pace became brutally delicious. Her nerves were stretching so good that her toes curled and that was when she felt the coil forming. Short needy pants left her lips, each one was a sign that she was getting closer to ecstacy, "I'm cumming, soldat. Please,, don't stop."

The soldat groaned, "Don't hold back." He pounded into her impossibly harder; and the delicious drag of his cock continued to punish her into pure ecstasy, forcing her cum to leak out and lather around his throbbing length, "That’s it, Cum for me, Зайка (bunny). Cum for your soldat,, ahh fuck so tight, i'm cumming too, ahh." The soldat chased his own release as continued to thrust inside her clenching hole.

"Fuckkkk i'm cumming inside you, Зайка (bunny). Will mark you mine with my cum. Ahhh ahhh fuckk", the soldat moaned to the addictive feel of her cunt milking him, and soon after when it hits him, his cock throbbed wildly as his cream leaked from the tip, endlessly filling her womb full with his warm cum.

Y/N whined to the amount of warm fluid spreading inside her. And when she thought his slowed thrust was a sign of an end, she couldn't be wrong. The soldat slowly pulled his cock out to the very tip, just pound it back into her. He groaned at the sight of his creamy cum spilling out, circling where his cock was stuffing her. Then he does it again, and again.

Until she started to moan for him, "hmmm,, s-soldat?" She hoped that he would explain himself.

His dark eyes only glint with lust and greed when a small smiled curved on his lips, "Oh, Зайка (bunny), I'm not done with you until I mark every part of you as mine."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This scene has been played out in my head the whole day when Speak Now (TV) came out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this short read! Drop some thought behind for me would you?

[cambion-companion]

Domestic Drabbles

Where their small daughter mistakes certain sounds for cries of distress.

Aemond x wife!reader

word count: 675

Silken spun silver curled around your fingers as you dug them into your husband’s hair, pulling him in for another deep kiss as he moved against you.  His weight pushed you further into the plush mattress, warmth enveloping your body as you sighed in pleasure.

The wooden bed frame creaked with each thrust, your whimpers of pleasure barely muffled as you bit into Aemond’s shoulder.

“Māzigon issa jorrāelagon.”  His voice was liquid velvet as he coaxed you to come undone around him.

You cried your release to the vaulted ceiling, feeling Aemond’s hot seed spilling within your heat as your muscles clenched and fluttered.  You pulled him deeper, his forehead coming to rest against yours as you breathed together, gently coming back to earth.

Aemond trailed his lips to the hollow of your throat, his hands caressing the curve of your breast as he tasted your flushed skin.

Amidst the post-coital bliss, wrapped together in a tangle of limbs, you heard the muffled crying of your young daughter.

Together you and Aemond sat up in bed, glancing at each other as he slid smoothly from the mattress, pulling on his clothing before striding with haste from your bedroom.

As you donned a satin robe, tying it securely about your waist, you heard Aemond’s soft voice several rooms away.

Minutes later he reentered the room, looking to you with a mixture of amusement and aggravation.

“Was it a nightmare?”  You asked, tilting your head in question of his prolonged silence.

Aemond shook his head slowly, a small smirk pulling his curved lips. “She is worried for you my dear.”

“Whatever for?”

“She says she heard you screaming and is scared for your well-being.”  You could see he was fighting to keep a stoic composure.

“Was I screaming?”  You ran a distracted hand through your tousled hair.

Aemond hesitated, glancing away from you, his mouth twitching. “I…uh, yes.”  His violet eye crinkled with mirth. “Perhaps you should go assure her you are unharmed.”

You nodded, brushing a kiss on his lips as you passed him into the darkened hallway.

“My darling, are you alright?”  You cooed, finding your silver-haired daughter curled upon her bed, still sniffling with widened eyes.

She reached her arms out to you, evident relief upon her cherub face. “I thought you were hurt!  Your door was closed and you wouldn’t answer me!”

You held you tight against your chest, rocking upon the small bed. “No, no.  I’m alright. I had a bad dream and your father was helping me.”

“O-oh.”  She hiccupped, still holding tight to your robe as you pulled back to look at her face.

“You don’t have to worry about me, my dove.”  You wiped the tears off her cheeks, helping her back under the covers and tucking her in. “When I’m with kepa, I am safe from harm.”

“He helps with your nightmares.”  She nodded, understanding.

You kissed her forehead tenderly. “Yes.  All better?”

“All better.”  Her eyelids were already beginning to close.

You waited for her breathing to deepen before exiting her room, closing the door softly behind you.

Aemond was waiting for you when you returned to your own chamber, he looked over at you with a quirked brow. “And?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I thought she was asleep.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if half the castle were awake by now.” He caught your wrist as you tried to hit his shoulder, pulling you in for a kiss. “Not that I’m complaining.”  He nuzzled your nose laughing as you scrunched it and giggled.

“In a little over a decade she is going to realize the truth and be traumatized.”  

“She is going to know how deeply in love her parents are.”  Aemond captured your mouth once more, smiling against your lips as you sighed with pleasure. “Besides, we have plenty of time to work on your volume control.”  

You giggled madly as Aemond rolled you beneath him, undoing the ties of your robe and spreading it open.  His eye glinted in the dim firelight as he straddled you, looking upon your form. “Now, my love, where were we?”

[ju1cyfru1t]

Timeless (Rise!Leo x Reader) (2012! Leo x reader)

ROTTMNT + 12’ TMNT x reader

Rise! Y/N meets 2012! Y/N

^could be read as Rise! Or 12! Leo x reader?

fluff :) gn reader, romantic, Drabble

SO SO PROUD OF THIS 🫶🏻

You still would've been mine

We would have been timeless

I would've read your love letters every single night

And run away and left it all behind

You still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this

So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

“Wait, wait, wait. So you’re saying you’re me?” You shook your head as you processed, staring at…well, yourself. They looked like you, just ever so slightly different. They felt different, too.

“I know, right?” They laughed, looking down. It was evident they were just as shell-shocked (pun intended) as you. I mean, it really is baffling. Whether you believe it or not, the multiverse is actually real. You would think will everything you’ve seen in your time of knowing the turtles, this wouldn’t be so shocking.

But this was all so overwhelming. There’s another you? Not to mention another Donnie, Mikey, Raph, Splinter, April; all so different from each other…and another Leo.

“So…your Leo is really something, huh?” They cleared their throat, motioning their head towards the two blue-clad turtles. Your Leo was laughing obnoxiously (, probably at one of his own jokes,) and their Leo looking a little embarrassed.

“You could put it that way…” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face. He was your Leo.

They snickered in response, “For sure…mine is a little dense, but I still love him.”

Your eyes immediately shot up to meet theirs, full of surprise. “Wait…you guys are, like…a thing?”

“Yeah, you guys aren’t?” They seemed confused, almost like they already knew the answer.

“No, no, we are…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” You looked away, your head spinning with questions.

I mean, how was this even possible? Are there other versions of you? What are they like? What have these turtles faced? …Does this mean soulmates are real?

You looked up to them once again, hesitating. “Do you think it’s like this in every timeline?”

They met your gaze with a warm grin, taking your hand in theirs before looking back at their Leo then to yours, “I really hope so.”

You didn’t say it, but you did too. You really, really, really did. You wanted every iteration of you to find what you two have. To be pulled by the invisible string of fate and find each other. Even if every Leo wasn’t the same, that there would always be one similarity. That he would your Leo. And you’re sure that every version of you felt that way, too, especially the one sitting in front of you now.

“Please,” they spoke up again, “I want to hear all about you…and your Leo, I guess.”

You laughed openly, nodding, “where do I even start?”

…………………………….…………………………….………………….

versions for Raph, Mikey, Donnie, and April???

[chocsra]

"Playing with Balls are Not For The Weak (Pause on that.)"

15! basketball plyr! chuuya x gn! reader - HIGHSCHOOL AU, HEADCANONS + DRABBLES

a/n: as per request, thank you @sstarshroom my pookie ☺️, sincere apologies for the title its my toilet humor. next week will be dazai content im sorry my dear dazai fans

content: headcanons, drabbles, fluff, slowburn, pre-relationship,"in a world of boys, hes a gentleman", chuuya as them short hoopers, relationship of these two actually sucking at life, cheeky and smug chuuya, idiots in love, dumbass behaviour

as a classmate, chuuya would have a pretty big friendgroup but only really hang out with a few select people;

in class, he's quiet and focuses on school;

he's also naturally smart, a good 80s-90s student without much effort;

chuuya takes academics seriously but since he doesn't really have to work his ass off to study, he wouldn't be competitive in school, so sorry to all the academic rivals to lovers girlys

you know what he would take seriously though, sports.

and it's not even the serious shit, you could play dodgeball and he's sweating his ass off;

so certified hotshot of the school, short king energy, okay.

Your teacher tediously writes away on a few documents of paper, adjusting his glasses with the flick of his hand. "We have a few boxes from the food drive," he announces, catching the attention of your working classroom. "I need a strong person to carry them to the office, pleas-" a loud smack of a laptop closing can be heard, "MEMEME!!" the class goes silent, staring as your classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, happily voluneer to deliver a few boxes.

okay, okay, so as a classmate, people either think he's slightly irritating or alright, it's another story in gym class though, nobody likes him.

"Pass the ball- PASS THE BALL!" Chuuya yells, you couldn't lie; him wrapping a piece of red cloth around his head like some kind of warrior was sorta concerning? No, really concerning. The small boy leeches his arms out as defense, concentration written all over his face. You dribble the basketball a few times, about to pass it to him. "I said pass it!!" he shouts, rude. You furrow your brows in offense before harshly throwing the ball in his direction, aiming for his head.

Unfortunately, throwing basketballs at your own team player's forehead didn't result in an instant win. As you two sat on the bench, watching the current game along sidelines as Chuuya rubs his temple with an icepack, his red headband cloth resting atop of his knee, focussing intentively. When your team has been declared lost, he clenched the icepack in his hand and starts profusely running around the gym, mourning a gym class basketball game.

I mean, it's not like he's a terrible person though, you've seen the guy, he can be nice, he's got it in his system. Like one time in gym class, dodgeball specifcally.

"Ow! The fuck?" yet another dread of gym class was at your service, the heated air of dodgeballs flying left and right through the air overwhelmed you to say the least. And one of those balls just hit you right on the head, you pensively rub your temple, hearing a loud "You're out!!" from the opposing team.

Curse words roll off your tongue in embarrassment, about to do the walk of shame to the bench until a hand rests on your shoulder. "Hey," you twist your head around, seeing Chuuya approach you, as everyone else fights like their damn lives depended on it. "Did the ball hit your head?" he asks, the boy had short copper locks that framed his face pretty nicely, this time there wasn't a red cloth tied around his head.

"Yea," you quip, turning away from him, the hand on your shoulder lifts as you feel soft fingers brush away some of your hair from the side of your face. "Yeah, that's not allowed, you're still in the game, okay?" the redhead assures you as he casually takes a quick look at your temple. You nod releuctantly, as he pats your shoulder again a few times before smugly continuing the game. Since when did Chuuya Nakahara abide the rules?

You know, there seems to be a reaccuring pattern between you two. Everytime you're near each other, someone always get hit in the face with a ball.

But, there seemed to be more casual conversations, ones that didn't include violence with sports equipment.

As a friend, Chuuya was teasing, he always said no to what you asked him to do, but ends up doing it anyway.

"Can you hold my bag?" you ask, "No." the redhead says as he grabs your bag anyway

but as a friend, he came with more benefits. a trustable walking partner.

It's that time of the season, December, where snow engulfed every pathway you walked on. It was one of those days after school, walking home in the freezing cold; but today was unlucky, you were caught in a snow storm. And apparently, your friendgroup is nowhere to be found.

To be honest, walking alone is kind of scary, intimidating, terrifiying. You would run, but ice was everywhere, tripping in public wouldn't be any better than fear.

You saw a black jacket, red scarf, and a backpack with soccer keychains and a massive waterbottle. Most obvious feature, was the black gloves the figure wore. "Chuuya!" you call out, the boy almost immediately spins around, nodding to you as a greeting. "What's up?!" he flashes a cheeky smile, the redhead was pretty far away from you, and you weren't just interested in a simple 'hello'.

"Can you walk with me?" you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets from the cold. The redhead doesn't falter his smile, not hearing you as he had earphones on. "What?" he asks, communicating with you whilst walking backwards; some assholes just don't care about splitting your head open on ice.

"Can you walk with me?!" you repeat, the ginger stops in his tracks, muttering an "ohhh" as he speeds towards you. Again, some assholes just don't care about their life. And so, Chuuya doing a quick slip and drop onto the sidewalk, in a snowstorm, whilst running to you would be the outcome of this story.

...

You immediately start laughing your ass off, watching as any smugness on his face completely disapates. Accepting defeat in every form. "Fuck!" you cackle, slapping your knee. You attempt to skedaddle to him, still laughing before.. Slip. You fall onto him, your elbow piercing his ribs, the boy chokes out a cry of pain before you laid together on the ground in pure defeat. You know what passing by cars thought of when they saw you two? Two teenagers laying on the ground, 'X' style, in the middle of a fucking snowstorm.

You made it home safely, having to make your friend and classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, hot chocolate as an apology.

yeah, having chuuya as your friend can get pretty hefty, and violence is all that seems to be thrown at your friendship;

as a friend, you and chuuya didn't feel like friends sometimes, it was weird;

he constantly asked you to come to his games, in all honesty - you were too busy or just felt like staying home;

there was one day though, you did come to his game, out of pure curiousity

and when he saw your face, accompanied with a wave, the teenager knew; he was inlove.

he was really bad at showing it though

After enough convincing, you finally showed up to another one of Chuuya's games, you've already once; but apparently this one was really important.

You were actually concentrating, it was getting really heated, time was getting thiner, and the scores were relatively even.

The crowd roared as Chuuya took the ball, running through the court with a focussed but cheeky look on his face.

Just as he reached the net, he yelled out the loudest, unexpected sentence.

"[Y/N]! This one's for you!!"

The crowd's jaw drops in shock and anticipation, whoosh, he missed miserably.

damn, you guys really suck.

[hisui-dreamer]

ode to the queen of hearts

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x gn!reader

Synopsis: others called him a tyrant, but he was your dearest lover

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for riddle

Word count: 607

Notes: happy belated birthday riddle! you might not be my favourite, but i appreciate how earnest and caring you are!! also how dare you come home when it should have been Halloween jade ಠ⁠ಗ⁠ಠ

Masterlist

Your lover possesses an extraordinary memory, a vault meticulously organized to house every minuscule fragment of the Queen's rules. Every rule, no matter how absurd or whimsical, finds its place within the labyrinth of his thoughts. He upholds them with a fervor that seems almost divine, each one a thread in the tapestry of his unyielding commitment.

Your lover how he seeks perfection in all he does, his devotion to his studies echoing in every corner of mind. His pursuit of excellence becomes a magnetic force, pulling you closer to his world. His irritable moments, the ones that seem to sprout from thin air, only make you want to unravel their origins, to soothe them away.

Your lover is a moral compass, his values etched in stone, guiding his every step. It's his unwavering belief that his way is the right way that both intrigues and challenges you. You find yourself falling for the way he stands his ground, a steadfast mountain amidst shifting sands. You admire how he channels his disagreements into fierce convictions, a tempest of righteousness.

Your lover is a remarkable leader, a beacon of guidance within the dormitory's walls. His dedication to maintaining order seamlessly extends to a genuine care for each of his dorm mates. You witness him stepping into a role that transcends strictness, where his commitment to the Queen's rules blends harmoniously with his nurturing nature. His devotion to helping any and every student who struggles never ceases to amaze you.

Your lover's sensitivity about his height and petite stature adds another layer of charm to him. It's truly endearing the way his cheeks flush with a hint of red when the topic surfaces, a slight defensiveness in his voice as he confidently predicts an impending growth spurt. However, you hold the sentiment that his physical appearance is of no consequence to your affection. His stature only enhances his uniqueness in your eyes, making him all the more special.

Your lover has a childish side that you find incredibly endearing. When it comes to matters unrelated to academics, he transforms into a surprising realm of childlike wonder. The strictness dissipates, and you witness a playful spirit that dances like sunlight on water. It's in the way he eagerly explores the new found subject, his eyes sparkling with pure delight. His laughter, like the tinkling of wind chimes, fills the air as he accomplishes his goals others would breeze through. The weight of rules and obligations momentarily lifts, revealing a heart unburdened, ready to revel in the simple joys of life. It's these glimpses of his carefree essence that remind you that beneath the veneer of severity, a gentle and childlike soul resides, seeking respite from the demands of a world that expects him to be stern and unyielding.

You love how his strict demeanor melts into delight in the delicate sweetness of a strawberry tart. The way he savors each bite, as if savoring a rare moment of respite from his strict world, speaks volumes. The flaky pastry and the burst of tangy-sweet strawberries seem to momentarily unravel the layers of duty that enshroud him, allowing him to revel in a simple pleasure. In those moments, you witness the vulnerability he so carefully conceals, and promise to yourself to improving your culinary skills.

You love every facet of him, from the stern enforcer of rules to the hidden vulnerabilities he guards. And as your affection deepens, you find yourself wanting to be the exception to his ironclad regulations, the one who shows him that love can bloom in the most unexpected places.

Your lover, is none other than Riddle Rosehearts.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[ceruleanangel]

The Diamond of Zaun- Chapter Two

Pairings: Vi x Reader kiiiiinda Silco x Reader could be more later...

Tags: f!reader, performer!reader

Content Warnings: angst, kiiiiiiinda age gap! relationship

a/n: Chapter two everyone! this one actually gets into the plot so im really excited to see what y'all think. Also I'm making it to where Vi and reader are both 17 pre time skip, so around 24/25 after the time skip.

Also Also I've been binging some playthroughs of Final Fantasy VII and I'm absolutely smitten with Cloud Strife so don't be surprised if some drabbles of him come through teehee.

Chapter One

“I finally got a letter back”

Vi’s head instantly turned to you from the couch she was lazing on, 

“What does it say?” 

You held up the sealed envelope so Vi could see it. She quickly vaulted over the back of the couch to meet you where you stood at the entrance of the gang’s little clubhouse. She waits for you to open it, glancing back and forth between the letter and you, biting your nails in anticipation. “Oooh I can’t open it, I’m too nervous.” You extend the envelope to Vi, flashing a smile, “Can you do the honors?” Vi raises an eyebrow at you and tuts, but regardless, she takes the envelope. She messily tears it open, although careful to not damage the contents of the letter inside. She clears her throat and reads in a pretentious accent,

“Dear Miss Y/n L/n, 

With great pleasure, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Piltover Institute of Dance and Performing Arts-”

Vi wasn’t able to finish reading the letter before you grabbed her hands, jumping up and down squealing with excitement. You hop up on the boxing machine platform that has doubled as your mock stage over the years for your ‘grand performances.’ Mostly only for Vi. “I can see it now!” You spin on the stage, holding an air microphone, “Everyone will know my name…I’ll even have it in lights!!” You turn and smile down at Vi. You can feel your cheeks heat up as she looks up, smiling warmly at you. You nervously put down your hands and breathe out a small sigh of relief as she looks back down at the letter. Your excitement swiftly fades to confusion as Vi’s eyebrows furrow, and she continues reading,

“...and we eagerly await your presence on campus in Piltover one week from now… “ she looks up at you, the corners of her lips becoming down-turned, “You’re leaving us in one week?” You step down from the stage to stand in front of Vi once again. You don’t meet her eyes, looking towards the floor, 

“Well, classes would begin in one week so…” A moment of silence passes, both of you contemplating the limited amount of time you’ll now have together. You finally gather up the courage to look up at Vi and slip both of your hands into hers. She gazes back into your eyes, despite her tough exterior, you can sense the sadness in her expression. “I promise I’ll come back to you every weekend!” you convince, trying to coax a smile out of her face despite the melancholy moment. You pull her towards the make-shift stage, backing up until you can step up onto the platform. Your thumbs rub circles on her hands as you muster up your award winning smile, 

“You know that you’ll always be my favorite person to perform for.”

Current Time

It’s almost as if time had stopped, the way you stood frozen in the hallway outside of your dressing room. Your hand would have shaken if not for its stabling hold on the door. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears as your vision became foggy, the image of Vi fading from the sight of her in front of you, to the way you saw her seven years ago, bloodied and…

“Hey Dia, everything alright?” the sound of one of the club’s bouncers jumpstart your brain back into motion. You look towards him then follow his eyes back to Vi and also another tall girl with blue hair that you don't quite recognize, standing behind her. “Is there a problem?” You’re about to open your mouth when Vi hoists herself up from the couch, and strides up to you, placing her hand on your shoulder as she passes.  You can only watch, mouth agape, as she turns to the bouncer, grinning at him “No, no problem here, we were just heading out.” She takes ahold of your hand and slips somthing in it, nodding to the bouncer and continuing down the hallway. The blue-haired girl follows close behind, skittishly looking between you and the bouncer before jogging to catch up with Vi. Who is that girl?

Once your brain catches up with the events that just transpired, you move to catch up with them, her name fighting to be freed from your throat, but the bouncer grabs your arm, “Yes?” you hurriedly ask him, you keep your eyes locked on Vi, desperate to catch up with the mystery that is currently walking away from you, carrying all your answers with it.

 “Boss left something for ya in your office.”

That catches your attention, and you turn to the bouncer, “the Boss did?” “Yep, came and dropped it off himself.” Thoughts fly through your brain once again but you quickly filter through them, the time-sensitive ones flying to the top.  You glance back toward the hallway and once you see it’s empty, you rush toward the door and glance out into the bar. Your eyes squeeze shut in frustration once you realize that Vi is already long gone. You turn, retreating to the back hallway, letting your head fall, but your gaze reminds you of a folded piece of paper in your hand. You quickly return back to your dressing room and open it up. You chuckle at the chicken scratch handwriting thats virtually unintelligible, that is, to almost anyone but you.

Meet me in an hour. You know the place.

Shivers ran down your spine. As time went by, ghosts from your past always seemed to go away, either fading into something else or being gone permanently. 

This was not a ghost you’d ever thought you’d see again

After boring holes through the folded, crumpled paper with your stare, you set the note down to get ready. But once you glance up, you're reminded of the ‘something’ that was left in your room. 

Not noticing the grand bouquet of fresh flowers sitting square in front of you on the dressing table goes to show the level of distraction that you are currently dealing with. You sit up in your chair, breathing in the scent of fresh tulips. You cup one of the buds in your hands as you glimpse the corner of a card peeking out from the center. You pull it out and have no trouble reading the excellent penmanship, 

My Diamond,

I’m so terribly sorry I had to miss your show, but I have no doubt you were as dazzling as usual, please do take these as an apology 

-S

Compliments and other such flattery have long since grown weak on you, having heard everything in the book, but you pretend to not feel a slight heat on your cheeks as you place the note back into the bouquet. Instead, you pluck one flower out of the bundle and arrange it into your hair, pulling it up and back away from your face. You quickly change out of your performance outfit and into something you can wear through the streets of the underground. You slip out into the night, heading exactly where you know you’ll meet the pink-haired ghost of your past. 

~

You make sure to listen intently to your surroundings as you traverse your way to the old clubhouse. It being abandoned and such, you never know who could be slinking around, especially with Shimmer affecting the citizens the way it does, causing them to find solace in the shadows. You wish you could retreat in such shadows, but the light always seems to find you. 

You reach the broken glass window and navigate through, without marking yourself on the shards. Scars wouldn’t be good. No one likes a damaged product. The glass crunches under your boot as you wander through a place you once practically lived in. Your hand brushes against the boxing machine that holds so many memories. You looked up at the leaderboard. If the power was on it would show Vi holding the top places, and many more after that. Without your knowledge, a smile began to tug at your lips as wetness started to well up in your eyes. Your hands blindly start to grasp to find the switch. 

“Don’t bother, they won’t work.” You didn’t need to turn your head to know who was speaking from behind you. Nonetheless, you whirled around, once again glimpsing Vi and an unidentified blue-haired girl. You had questions about her, but those could wait. 

“Vi, I-” “Where's my sister?” you two spoke at the same time. “...your sister?” you spoke after a moment of silence. Vi began to stride towards you, her voice becoming more intense and frantic.

 “Yes, where's Powder, I need to find her now-” 

“Vi where have you been?” Vi stops in her tracks, only a few feet from you as you cut her off. You can feel your throat start to close up as tears start to well in your eyes. You will not let them fall. Your eyebrows furrow in anguish and frustration, why did she leave you?

“I thought you were dead and - and now you just reappear like nothing happened?” You glance down at the shards splintered on the cement floors down below, trying to blink away the wetness in your eyes. “...not even ask how I've been?” 

There's a moment of silence between you, but you refuse to look up into her eyes. You’re scared of anything you might see on her face, sadness, anger, but most of all, 

Indifference 

You could have never imagined the sinking in your stomach when what you were afraid to see is instead delivered to your ears,

“I don’t have time for this-I don't even know why I bothered…you’re too busy galavanting on stage, prancing around for everyone- for Silco.” She spat the words at you like it was poisen in her mouth. You finally look up at her in time to see her turning her back, “...You don’t care about us anymore.” She begins to take a step away but she stops at the sound of your voice,

“You have no idea what I care about!” Your chest tightens and the tears run freely down your cheeks. Images of the seven years you were apart, the seven years you had to do what you could to survive, images of the Garden. Your head buzzes with anger and anguish, and you release it all out onto Vi. You aren’t aware of what you’ll say next, the feelings that have been built up over the last seven years cause words to stream right from your heart to your tongue.

“You have no idea what I have done to protect those I care about...including you.”

You don’t even take a minute to catch your breath before taking long strides towards the broken glass in which you entered. But instead of moving out of the way of Vi you aggressively bump into her shoulder, leaving her stumbling as you continue to the exit. You kick in the glass at your feet, trampling smoothly through the gaping hole. The cool air from outside in the alley blows through your clothes as if they weren’t even there, swiftly calming your hot head and bringing you back to reality. You take a deep breath and turn your head, just enough to be perfectly silhouetted by the neon lights blazing on from outside the valley.

“And by the way, it’s not Powder. Your sister’s name is Jinx.”

Chapter Three

[secondratefiction]

That 70's Show Drabble request: It's your and your twin brother Eric's 16th birthday, kitty and red usually remember but they forget yours this year, your boyfriend Hyde notices and gives you one of the best birthdays ever, including you two both having sex for the first time. Hyde also does a little cussing at red And kitty for forgetting their youngest daughter's special day.

'ello my love, always nice to see you around 😁

Afraid I might have gone a little off the brief for this one, but hopefully it still hits at least most of what you wanted 💜

(Ok, yes, timeline wise, Hyde was living with the Foreman's before he got the car, but this is basically the fandom versions of "...who's like is it anyway?" where the stories are made up and canon events don't matter, so... just roll with it)

You're blaming Eric for this.

He was the one who decided he didn't want to share a birthday party with you any more

Now, granted, you had agreed, mostly out of anger and annoyance with him in the moment - "Fine! Why would I want another stupid Star Wars themed party anyway!" - But you hadn't thought it would end up here...

The decision had been made after the disastrous aftermath of your last combined party, and it was something that had slipped your mind over the last year.

Of course in the month before, Eric was sure to bring it up, and remind your parents that you were doing separate celebrations... although, you weren't expecting exactly how that ended up working out.

Your mother had seemed to pull out all the stops for this year "Sixteen is such a special age after all..."

There were pancakes and all of Eric's favorites at breakfast... only Eric's though

And you tried not to let that get to you, but you didn't even get so much as a happy birthday out of any of them... not even your Dad which stung quite a bit considering that it was no secret that he had a tendency to favor you over Eric and even Lori.

But you sucked it up, put on a brave face, and tried to act like it wasn't a big deal... which you were actually pretty good at -

At least until you got sent down to the basement to collect a few things for your mom. That's when Hyde spotted you...

He sat up from the couch looking like he was struggling to wake up. Which, in all fairness, he was, "Hey, little Foreman." You rolled your eyes at him, leaning on the ack of the couch, "Did you sleep here again?" "Yeah." He nodded, leaning into kiss you. "You're gonna get caught..." He only smirked up at you with a shrug, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Standing up, he vaulted over the back of the couch to pull you into a proper kiss that honestly made you a little weak in the knees, leaning into him more as he pulled away, "Happy Birthday baby."

And just like that the damn broke...

You let out a strangled, broken laugh, quickly burying your face in his chest to try and hide the fact tears had immediately sprung up, and that you were losing the fight to keep them contained.

To say Hyde was caught off guard would be the under statement of the century. He almost panicked as he scrambled trying to figure out what was wrong, what he'd said to set you off.

All of this despite your poor attempts to assure him it was nothing. "Hey, no. Look at me," He pulled you back from him so you couldn't keep hiding, and waiting until you actually looked up to meet his eyes, "If you are this upset, it is not 'nothing'. Now, tell me what happened."

You tried to fight it, keep your mouth shut, but there was an intensity in his gaze that left no room for argument... he wasn't going to let this go until you told him, so you did, laying out all the events of the morning, "... I can't believe they fucking forgot my birthday."

For a moment Hyde's expression was unreadable and you had just started to ask what he was thinking when he grabbed you by your elbow and started walking you towards the door "Wait! Steven, what are you - I'm supposed to be grabbing a box for my mom." "Don't worry about it, I'll get it."

He walked you straight out of the garage, putting you in the Camino, still very confused before he turned around a disappeared back down the basement steps.

He grabbed the box you had indicated and made his way up to the kitchen. Smiling tightly and nodding in greeting when Kitty noticed him. "I didn't realize you were here Steven." "I just came by to pick up Y/N... plans for her birthday, you know."

He took the moment of realization and shock on her face as a chance to drop the box on the table and make a quick exit out the sliding glass door.

He was sliding into the driver's seat by the time Kitty could be heard shouting for Red inside the house, throwing his arm behind your head as he looked to back the car out of the drive

"Ok..." You said slowly as he turned around to put the car in drive, pulling away from your house, "So what are we doing?"

"Don't know yet, that's up to you," He said, smirking at you, letting his hand come to rest on your knee, "Tell me what you want to do, and I'll make it happen."

You couldn't help but laugh a little bit, almost beaming at him as you put your own hand over his, "Anything I want?" "Anything."

[chiriwritesstuff]

constellations; from the vault

the first of the many short drabbles i wrote while deep in my writer's block.

pairing: lucien flores x f!reader

rating: E (18+, MDNI)

word count: 831

warnings: allusions to rough sex, reader talks about the bruises from rough sex, infidelity, reader and Lucien just can't quit one another, this is rough but so am I, not beta read at all

a/n: here is a drabble I wrote around the time ::that:: video came out, I knew I wanted to write something but eventually abandoned it. this is really rough, probably doesn't make any sense but I hope you like it anyway? I have a few more of these drabbles with other Pedro boys so if you would like me to release them, let me know!

"Where are you going?"

As you ask, you catch a glimpse of his dismissive scoff in your peripheral vision. He retrieves his crumpled slacks from the floor, sliding them on without bothering with his boxers. Flopping onto the nearby lounge chair, he buries his head in his hands, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nearby table.

His spend is still leaking out of you.

Balancing the cigarette between his lips, he mutters, "Why does it matter where I'm going, huh? Didn't you say this was the last time?"

"Well, you certainly didn't fuck me like it was the last time," you bite back, staring up at the ceiling. "Not unless you didn't mean to force me to say that I would never leave you."

He looks up at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, punctuated only by the soft click of the lighter as he ignites his cigarette.

Finally, he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "I don't know, okay? I wish I did, but I don't."

You watch him through a haze of conflicting emotions, each flicker of the cigarette casting shadows across his face. Memories flood your mind, unbidden and unwelcome, of all the times he's shattered your heart with his constant infidelity. It's a cruel dance you've performed too many times, the steps familiar yet no less agonizing with each repetition.

"Why do you do this to me, Lucien?" The words spill from your lips, heavy with the weight of all the pain and betrayal you've endured. "Haven't I given you enough? Am I not enough for you? What else more do you want from me?"

Your voice trembles with a mixture of anger, hurt, and desperation, each word punctuated by the ache in your heart. You've poured everything into this relationship, sacrificing pieces of yourself along the way, only to be met with deception and disappointment time and time again.

Lucien's gaze flickers with a shadow of remorse, his own pain reflected in the depths of his eyes. "I don't know," he whispers, his voice strained with emotion. "I wish I had the answers, but I'm just as lost as you are. I'm a fucking monster."

You think back to the countless promises made in the aftermath, the hollow apologies that echoed in the silence of your shared space. Each time, you swore it would be the last, that you'd finally find the strength to break free from the cycle of pain and betrayal.

"They don't know me as you do, baby," he groans into your ears as he fucks you from behind, his hands harsh against your hips, clutching your skin so tightly you swear that he'll leave a mark.  

His mark. Branded across the expanse of your skin, like a constellation of stars that eventually fade, only to appear again and again and again, each time more painful than the last.

But here you are again, caught in the gravitational pull of his presence, unable to tear yourself away despite the scars etched deep within your soul. It's a masochistic pattern, one you know all too well, yet you find yourself powerless to resist its allure.

As he takes another drag from his cigarette, you're reminded of the fragility of your resolve, the delicate balance between love and self-preservation hanging in the balance. The truth is, you're tired – tired of the heartache, tired of the uncertainty, tired of clinging to a love that feels more like a curse than a blessing.

His words hang heavy in the air, a confession wrapped in a shroud of resignation. "I can't quit you," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you've rarely seen. "I know that I'm fucked up. But I can't quit you."

"If you don't love me, then why do you even bother with me?" The question hangs from your lips, edged with frustration and a hint of resignation. "Surely those other women are much more appealing to you."

Lucien's gaze softens, his expression betraying a hint of regret as he reaches out to touch your trembling hand. "It's not about them," he murmurs, "It's about you. You're the one who sees through the façade, who knows me better than anyone else ever could."

His words offer a fleeting sense of reassurance, a glimmer of hope amidst the storm of uncertainty raging within you. But deep down, you know that words alone are not enough to mend the fractures in your relationship, to bridge the chasm that divides your hearts.

But as his gaze meets yours, a silent plea hidden beneath the smoke and shadows, you realize that some part of you still yearns for redemption, for the possibility of a love that transcends the pain. And so, with a heavy heart and a weary soul, you resign yourself to the dance once more, knowing full well the risks that lie ahead.

[swordfright]

do you have any c!awesamdream fics recomendations?

Honestly, I don’t have a ton of recs. c!awesamdream fic is mysteriously hard to find, and I also wouldn’t want to recommend you anything super E-rated in case that’s not your jam. Personally I’ve had more success searching the Sam & Dream gen relationship tag than the slash tag. That said, here are my no-brainer recs, most are gen with some exceptions:

inosculation by @theminecraftbox - canon compliant, reflection on how their relationship progresses during the prison arc, how c!sam’s authoritarian tendencies bloom in pandora, and the weird symbiosis he and dream achieve. technically not a slash fic but like it is To Me!!

saltwater on rock by @elmhat - also not technically a slash fic but it is a fun exploration of their relationship post-prison: who are they to each other, now that they aren’t prisoner and warden? what power has dream reclaimed, what power has sam ceded? or is it the other way around? fun stuff.

the trees deny themselves nothing by @lookinghalfacorpse - if you’re asking for recs you’ve probably already read this one (it’s basically THE awesamdream fic at this point) but i think it lends itself to re-readability! and if you haven’t read it: dream loses his leg in pandora, phil n techno conscript sam to make him a new one after the jailbreak, things get interesting. OP also wrote a post-fic oneshot which you can read here.

everlasting evermore by @elmhat - incomplete atm and also not slash but definitely awesamdream vibes. sam is a sad widower king who interrogates dream in his dungeon so it scratches the fantasy itch. this fic does some cool things with the cloning lab lore and i’m really excited to see where it goes!

21 steps in the desert by @airrec - banger. it's short so i won't describe it in detail. banger tho!

scream eureka by @cgogs - basically a post-canon domestic horror fic, sam and dream are married (with a kid on the way) but neither of them is able to move on from pandora. this fic deals with issues of bodily autonomy very well and it’s also refreshing to see trans pregnancy handled with tact, rather than treated like a fetish or a joke. IIRC this fic is an AU of an AU so be warned, it does come with like 30 pages of background lore which isn't necessary to understand the fic but does make it easier to follow.

all these lives by @lookinghalfacorpse - reincarnation drabble, plays with sam’s obsession in fun ways. not really sure how else to describe this one but i reread it sometimes! it’s good!

you don't have to be like that by @dr3amofagame - incomplete, i haven't reread this one in a while but i remember enjoying it at lot! dream gives sam the book in a moment of desperation and then has to navigate the fallout.

accident by @airrec - another fave. concise, fucked up, and very well written.

i’ve also been working on a multichap awesamdream fic (am i allowed to rec my own fics??? is that too cringe??) that’s gonna be wrapping up soon. pandora's vault gains sentience, that's the whole plot. like most of the other works on this list, it’s not technically ship fic but it is very much about sam and dream’s...situation. full warning tho, it’s long and rambly and weird, sorry for that!

i also wanna add that pretty much any fic that explores the scrapped lore is gonna have to deal with awesamdreamisms by necessity, owing to the nature of, well, the lore. there's a decent amount of fics about it, here's one that I found recently and enjoyed a lot.

Have fun, mind the tags. And if you find more then by all means, feel free to add to this post! I know there's a lot of tumblr-exclusive content floating around out there that can be harder to find than stuff on AO3.

Also, it's worth mentioning that some of the most compelling c!awesamdream content I've read were brief interludes in fics about much broader subjects in the fandom; I've read a lot of great c!awesamdream moments in c!rivals fics, prison trio fics, c!dnf fics, etc. So my advice is to cast your net wide, if that makes sense? Happy reading!

[winterarmyy]

Until Then

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with.

Words: 2.3k++

Pairing: 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: melancholy-ish plot line with fluffy ending

Inspiration: "You still would've turn my head, even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944 and you were heading off to fight in the war" – Timeless (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It was supposed to be a quick in and out mission. Y/N and Tony were sent back in time to 1944; one day before Captain America and the Howling Commandos deployed to their next mission at the Austrian Alps, in Europe.

The duo were supposed to retrieve some lost files regarding Hydra's hidden bunks and labs back in the days. After the fight with Thanos, there were rumours of the re-creation of Project Winter Soldier lead by an organization that once associated with Hydra. So, they need all the information they could get their hands on; including the ones that are lost decades ago.

Unfortunately for them SHIELD used to be shitty at storing physical files back in the days. To be fair they still do, especially now that technology had advanced. Every single information were at the tip of their fingers; from typical criminal records to the name of every single doctor and nurses who were present when the person was born.

They literally have everything. And nothing at the same time.

And honestly, the mission was quick as they predicted. Tony managed to scanned the needed files and some others that he thought would be important. He's extra like that too, which was a plus.

However quick the mission supposed to be, they barely make it though, especially when the guards were suspicious of Tony's apparently "hippie" beard. It was such a shame. So much for dressing up in 40's style. They kind of nailed the outfit and aesthetics, according to Steve anyway.

However, thankfully by the time they got out of the facility they managed fit right in with crowd. The wave of people lead the duo along its current, more and more people joined in to the point that they weren't able to find any quiet place to activate their time device.

"I thought we're still in WWII? Why is there fucking a parade in the middle of the day?" Tony being unapologetically sarcastic as always.

Y/N looked around as she observed, there was couple of people animatedly, albeit, excitedly exclaimed to the streak of success of Captain America and the Howling Commandos in the war.

A little to the right of them, were a group of children who were semi-cosplaying as Captain America and his dream team, passionately play-fighting with the enemies as if they were in a theater performance.

"I guess they're celebrating small wins. Steve and his team did have several successful raids since the battle at Azzano." It was in fact true; what Y/N speculated was exactly the very reason of the current occasion.

Tony simply shrugged as he stretched his neck higher to hopefully find the end the crowd, "Sure, just keep your eyes open for a place to time jump. I don't want to be stuck in the middle of another war." Y/N nodded as she looked around the sides, wondering if there's an empty alleyway that they could use.

The more sketchy looking it was, the better.

The crowd was chaotic with different mix of conversations and cheers; voices intertwining with one another, each sentences criss and crosses into indecipherable storyline. But even then, Y/N could recognized that breathy, slightly giggly laughter anywhere.

Especially when he brushed right by her.

Y/N was well aware of how madly in love she was with Bucky even with the coy cat-and-mouse game they were playing for months. She knew exactly the hold he had on her soul that at some point, she was conviced that he still would've turn her head in any lifetime.

But that idea was only supposed to be one of the secrets in her mind; the thoughts of a hopeless romantic that she was. Certainly, she didn't dreamt of the vision for it come true. But there she was, frozen on her spot when the time stood still on the crowded street in 1944; fortuitously crossing path with man she fell in love with.

There weren't any suitable explanation for this other than it was fate. In that short milliseconds, Y/N saw the resemblance of the sight to a memory of hers in the crowded room a few short years ago; his left arm slung around Steve's neck, letting his weight leaned on his super soldier friend as he let out a hearty laughter.

There were only slight difference from what she saw before and what she currently seeing; Bucky wore an all black suit at that party, now he's wearing his military uniform in a parade. Bucky was dead drunk on Asguardian mead that night, now he's as sober as a soldier deprived of liquor. Bucky's left hand was adorned with high-tech vibranium metal, now that very hand was still made of flesh and blood, still alive.

During that brief moment of revelation, she truly believed that they were supposed to find this.

Whatever this is supposed to be; Fate? Love? Both? She was not sure either.

She was so stuck on holding her gaze on his back as the young soldier walked a few steps away from her that she didn't notice how the people in the surge glared at her unmoving state or how she had been astray from Tony.

Well, at least it only lasted until someone bumped into her and she staggered backwards, inevitably fell on the ground.

Y/N groaned but quickly patted her pockets to find her time device was still there. I mean, she can never be sure if it was just an accident that she fell or someone intended to distract her while pick-pocketing her belongings.

Though other people would probably already stood on  their feet but Y/N was still on the dusty road, as she was busy recollecting her mental state rather than her physical.

That was when a calloused hand reached out to her, offering a kind help.

She didn't think twice to take his hand, let alone looking up at his face when she gripped it tight enough to make a solid foundation to push herself against the gravity, "Oh dear me! Thank you so much, sir. I really..." She lost her momentum when she met the pale blue of his eyes, "...appreciate it." She ended the sentence breathlessly.

It's Bucky. Her brain tried to let her process the thought. It was not her Bucky but still... it's Bucky. Her eyes then fell to where their skin touched. Warm and gentle. His left hand felt the exact same as his right. It made her to cave in the urge to hold it a little longer, to savour the memory of what it could've been; not that she weren't fond of his vibranium arm but curiosity can be such a fickle thing.

Bucky smiled, "Glad to help, my lady." And oh dear does he smiled effortlessly, freely; as if he knew he deserved to feel joy in his life.

Even if she didn't want to, she had to let go of his hand after a few seconds too long of holding it when she was already up and ready to go. She returned his smile though her heart was barely tough enough to stop the spreading of its cracks, "Really, I can't thank you enough."

In reality, it was probably unnecessary to thank him that much for helping her to get back on her feet, but Y/N wasn't really thanking him just for that.

Unbeknownst to him, she was thanking him for not holding back a smile, for not overthinking about the things he might have done to draw a conclusion that he was undeserving have the luxury to smile, for unapologetically just living the life he supposed to have.

She thanked him for it.

Bucky chuckled amusingly as he slightly titled his head to the side. A charming pull on the corner of his lips revealed a smile that could swoon anyone on sight, especially her.

"Well, we're having a little party tonight before deploying to Europe tomorrow. So, maybe you can thank me by letting me bring you to the dance? How about that, doll?" She almost forgot that Steve was there next to him, until Bucky references the word "we".

And especially when his words might just pulled Y/N's heartstrings in ways that she could never thought someone could do. It was awfully slow, almost too delicate of a pull, but each inches of it pained her deeply.

If it was up to her, she would've said yes a million times over but she knew she can't. And the voice in her earpiece reminded her of it, "Y/N, we gotta go." Tony urged as he watched her from the corner of the street.

Y/N tried her best not let her facial expression flatter, "Unfortunately, I can't. I'm going back to my hometown today." It wasn't exactly a lie when she made that excuse.

"Ohh, I see. You're not from here, huh?" Bucky was very honest as his reaction clearly showed his disappointment. Though not at her, just at the situation.

Her brows briefly crunch into an apologizing plead before she boldly grabbed him by the collar of his uniform, slightly pulled him down to her level, while the other hand cupped one side of his face.

She tiptoed herself upwards as she pressed a firm yet sweet kiss on the smooth skin of his cheek and whispered against it, "But, I hope this would do."

Lost for words, heck, Bucky was lost for thoughts. What was left was his own heart thumping hard and loud that he bet Steve can hear it from where he was standing. His cheeks became warmer by the second and the redness spreads even to the tip of his ears.

Of course he had his cheek kissed before, but not like this. None of them felt like this. They were always too fast, too hasty.

Hers was different. It lingered a little longer, gently leaving her imprint on him. He can feel her grip on his collar, the stroke of her thumb on his cheek and of course the soft pressure of her lips on the other side of his face. He could everything so particularly.

Bucky was rendered speechless even after she pulled her lips away; it was too soon for his comfort. Eyes wide open, his lips slightly parted as he let himself lost in the pleasant surprise.

He thought she would parted herself and ran away feeling embarrassed, but she did the very opposite. Y/N lead his forehead to lean on hers, tip of their nose grazed, and her lips hovered above his.

So close, yet refused to merge with one another.

Y/N whispered quietly, as if she was talking to herself, "You'll be fine, James. You'll find home in the future. I promise."

Her voice trembled as Bucky just noticed how wet her eyes were becoming. With that amount of tears in them, he wondered if her sight were all blurry now.

Y/N took in a shaky breath before continuing, "You just need to survive the winter and trust me at the end of that season, you'll reach the sun again." Her thumbs softly traces his cheeks as she spoke.

Bucky didn't quite understand what she was saying but if he loosely translate it, it would mean that 'she believed that he'll be back soon after the war'. But then again, he felt like there were some major things that was missing from the context that he came up with.

Y/N's earpiece send another transmission of Tony's voice, "Okay, seriously. Come on, Juliette. Your other Romeo is waiting for you." She couldn't help but to smile as she closed her eyes, letting the excess tears fall down to her cheeks.

She didn't want to say goodbye, as she knew that this was not where their story ends, at least not his; that's for sure. So, she simply smiled up at him with a reassuring look in her eyes before stepping back. She then, briefly turned her attention to the dumbfounded Steve, gracing him with a similar smile before walking away.

It was just a few steps away when her hand was caught in between someone's, "Hey!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see Bucky; wide eye, blinking in disbelief and blushing red, all at the same time, "WiIl... Will I see you again?" He asked, though hesitant; wondering if he was being rude.

Compared to what she had done to him, he was just being too polite.

Y/N chuckled dearly, "Of course." Then she replied confidently, "I owe you a dance after all." Her lips parted into a cheeky grin.

Bucky let out a sharp relieved sigh as his lips mimic hers, "I'll look forward to it, doll." He slightly bowed as his hand pulled hers closer to his lips, "Until then." He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand as his gaze remained on hers.

Apparently, it was Y/N's turn to blush to his antics. She stepped back shyly as her cheeks brightens before scurring away. Maybe, Bucky was right with his prediction prior. She did ran away feeling embarrassed after all.

She jogged towards the next corner of the street, meeting up with Tony. The older might have eyeing her in a teasing manner, but his smirk was the biggest giveaway. Y/N simply rolled her eyes, even if her lips maintained its shape from the aftermath of her encounter with Bucky.

As they entered deeper into the alleyway, Tony spoke, "I gotta admit, young terminator was a hottie. Not hotter than me, of course." he claimed.

Y/N frowned, letting out a scoff, "What do you mean "was"? He still is." Call it bias, but at least she was telling the truth.

Tony shrugged, "Meh. Would argue to differ. But, whatever that floats your boat, I guess?" Tony sassed as they clicked on the time device at the same time, revealing a swirlling portal, in front of them.

Y/N quirked her brow, her hands on her hips, "You're just jealous that he aged like a fine fucking wine and you don't." She purposely challenged his ego.

Tony dramatically rolled his eyes, "Please. He wishes." He walked into portal with an attitude, making Y/N laughed at his childish acts.

She looked back at the alleyway one last time and reminisce the last moments of a past that she never belong in. As she walked into the portal, she thought that maybe, it's time to pay her debt to Bucky.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: The start of bucky drabbles because why not. This is considered a drabble for me because i feel like there's lack of story building. But, you tell me. And did you enjoy it?

[scrfiice]

%$@! TICK, TICK, BOOM !

FROM THE VAULT: TAPE OO1

A COLLECTION OF DRABBLES FEATURING BONES AND ALL.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Arguing, telling high tension, cursing.

The metronome clicks, clicks, clicks with every pluck of a string on Wei’s guitar. There’s a systematic beating on the drums behind her and a bass that joins in. Click, click, click. It’s a maddening sound. Cherry shuts her eyes to try and tune it out, the electric guitar heavy as it hangs off her tiny frame, holding tightly onto the microphone in front of her as her mind silently counts the beats even if she hates it. Seven counts of three.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

Everything is so fucking loud. The bass sounds off. Like Roxie is a beat off. Cherry doesn’t say anything, shaking her head slowly as she turns her head to the ground. She feels like she’s going to explode.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

“Some days–”

“Early! You’re early,” Juwon shouts, giving a frustrated strum to his bass. The lack of music cuts through the room like a knife, Haruaki taking in a sharp breath through his teeth as he plucks a few mindless chords on his guitar. Cherry runs a hand through her red hair, the consistent tapping of the metronome starting to give her a headache. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

“You’re either late or you’re early. You’re never on time–”

“It’s that stupid fucking metronome. It throws me off,” Cherry argues, hand falling from her hair to slap against her thigh. Juwon rolls his eyes, shaking his head. It’s just another excuse to him. Cherry wasn’t going to be on time with or without the metronome. He only started using it to get her on time, but she’s perpetually never on time. It’s just how she is. 

“You can’t hit the timing without or without it. Don’t make excuses. Just do it right.”

“There’s also twenty fucking sounds at once. Not all of us need an instrument, but everyone is playing a fucking instrument. Why are there two basses? We only need one,” Cherry fires off, stepping away from the microphone. Roxie seems to silently agree with her, lips puckering with a hum as she nods. Juwon scoffs through his nose, tipping his head to the side as if to stretch.

“Everyone needs an instrument-”

“No they don’t. People need to sing. You got three fucking guitars, two basses, and a single set of drums. How do you think we’re going to sound live?”

“Like shit,” Haruaki throws in his two cents. Cherry motions towards him like he’s the be-all say-all. Which, in Cherry’s opinion, he is. He has more actual band experience than most of them here. In fact, most of the people here have more band experience than Juwon, but for some reason, he’s the leader, he’s the frontman, and it drives Cherry insane.

“Like fucking shit. There’s too much noise.”

“It’s a band. It’s supposed to make noise. The song is loud, Charlotte.” Cherry can still hear that fucking ticking sound. She shuts her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath through her nose. Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick.

“It’s supposed to be good noise. This isn’t good noise. This is just noise.”

“It wouldn’t be noise if you were on time. You’re never on time, Cherry!”

Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick.

“And your-your bass sounds like shit, Juwon! How can I be on time when there are two basses going, and one is better than the other? Why do you even play an instrument half the time? You’re supposed to be a fucking singer!” Roxie smiles proudly to herself when she’s indirectly called the better bassist, shrugging her shoulders up as she sways side to side. 

Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick.

“Fuck you, Cherry.”

Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick.

“Fuck you, Juwon and your stupid metronome.” Cherry snaps, stomping over to the metronome that rested on a shelf and finally turning the machine off.

The room is silent for the first time since this hell session started, causing the tension inside Cherry to ease slightly. Jiho gives a few taps on his snare drum before he stands up, sliding his drumsticks in his back pocket.

“I’m getting some water.”

“You barely even played,” Cherry deadpans, but Jiho brushes her off, waving his hand in the air dismissively, giving a peace sign as he walks out. Wei takes a deep breath through her nose, looking at Jiho’s drumset and seeing a green water bottle sitting beside his seat. She sighs, looking at the door he left through.

It’s just another Tuesday.

[cats-obsessions]

Kill Your Lover - Durgetash Drabble, Part 2

Summary: Pre-tadpole, Bhaal decides he's had enough of this Enver Gortash. The Dark Urge must decide if he will concede or resist his father's commands.

Part 1

---

‘No.’

The word echoes silently in his ears for days, in wake and rest; his father’s words nor the pain they bring can be escaped. He asked again and again, begged for forgiveness, begged for one thing. One. And the answer was 'no'.

Perhaps if Enver was someone else, he could be spared by Bhaal- a member of the church or maybe no one at all. But Bane’s chosen would not be converted. Even if he could, Bhaal would not consider it, it seems. He wants The Dark Urge to kill Enver Gortash.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected, in a way, but the orders from his father come with a realization that Nox is not ready to fully face. ‘Fondness’, ‘attachment’ these were things a weapon should not feel.

But he has done many things a weapon should not do.

A weapon should not laugh. A weapon should not feel joy outside of the hand that forged them. A weapon should not have fine things like warm clothes, good food, or the luxury of silken sheets over a soft bed. A weapon most of all should not have a lover. And yet, in all his life, Nox has always reached for such things. Alas, the Banite is the one who has put them into his blood-soaked hand for all these years now.

“Has that painting offended you so, to deserve such a voracious scowl?”

“Hm?” Nox hums, finally being pulled from his thoughts as he feels one of Gortash’s arms slip around his waist, pulling him tightly against himself. His forehead presses against Nox, and the warmth of his breath tickles over Nox’s pulse. Vulnerable. Vulnerable to have teeth near his neck. Vulnerable to let his guard down knowingly in the presence of another. Yet, all those whispers of weakness feel almost inane to him in the moment.

“If you wish for me to burn it, I may. Though, I would prefer you share your true affliction.” Enver murmurs, and Nox feels his hand travel up to rest on the Banite’s, his fingers quickly grasped in a greedy hold.

“It is nothing,” he lies.

“Hm,” Gortash hums thoughtfully before stepping away, and the sudden rush of coldness at Nox’s back feels like too much to handle. He quickly turns to follow Enver to the tyrant’s desk, and the little grin on his face tells Nox it was the reaction he was hoping for- damned Banite mind games.

“We leave for Moonrise soon. I do not want you distracted.”

Nox rolls his eyes sarcastically, “How thoughtful of you.”

Gortash sits at his desk, and motions to Nox to pull a chair up next to him- always next to. They haven’t done business across as desk in a long time. The symbolism is not lost on the Bhaalspawn, not that he’ll dwell on it. Instead, he follows suit and sits.

“We have much to discuss with our new ally.”

“And I thought having one ally was bad enough,” Nox says, though he doesn’t resist as Enver lifts his feet up to rest on his lap, Nox’s hand instinctively wrapping around his ankle, his fingers reaching for that small spot of exposed skin between his loafers and trousers.

Gortash doesn’t humor him with a retort, only eyeing him incredulously, “Do you have the proper attire for our first meeting?”

“Do you?” He huffs, “The age-old general will respect blood splattered armor more than your frills.”

“Very well, I will don the armor I wore on our last excursion- the set you liked so much.”

Mephistopheles vault. They achieved what no other mortal or immortal had, and yet the mention brings back thoughts of days spent traversing the frozen lands of Cania, curled up together in a shared sleeping roll, the way Enver stitched his wounds so tenderly after their return- part of him knows his mind should fixate on the slaughtered devils and triumph of power over an archdevil, but it doesn’t. Knowing that brings something sour and aching to Nox’s stomach. He feels on edge, his muscles constricting. His fists clench, and he doesn’t notice until his soft touch has turned into a bruising grip on the Banite’s ankle.

“Shit,” he says, “sorry.” Nox pulls his balled-up fists into his lap, his eyes never leaving his cursed hands. He can feel dark eyes scan him, searching for something. He used to be able to keep such a stone face around Gortash. Now, he may as well write his feelings on his forehead with the way his tail twitches irritably.

“Is your Urge acting up?”

“No.” Nox says, then thinks better of it, “Maybe. Not yet.”

“I will hire a group of nameless mercenaries to accompany us to Moonrise. If the Urge strikes you, you may make a sacrifice of them. If not, we can use them yet in our tests. Either way, they will not return with us.” Gortash makes a note on an errant parchment on his desk, and Nox watches the way he drags the quill across the paper so precisely. It is only once the Banite looks back up at him that he remembers to respond.

“Thank you.”

Enver looks at him pensively for a moment more before the expression is wiped away, a smug smirk in its place, “I am always happy to ensure you’re sated, my dearest.”  

Nox snorts, an embarrassing laugh that comes out of him unwillingly, but it puts a smile on his face for the first time in days. He used to think he knew how humor and happiness felt; he used to think they were the sensations in his gut when he slaughtered for his father and laughed in the face of his victims. That is not how he feels around Enver Gortash. He feels something so sickly warm that is not the reward of an action but something that hovers, something that stays even when he wants to hate him. And it drives him mad. Or it would, if he were not so indulgent.

He shoves Enver’s feet off his lap and pulls the other man’s chair closer to him until he can reach out and wrap his arms around his waist, pulling Gortash closer. He’s welcomed with arms around his shoulders. When he presses the ghost of a bite to Enver’s throat, Gortash only leans his head back to expose more of himself to the sharp fangs of a Bhaalspawn, so lightly digging into his flesh in some twisted mockery of a love-bite.

Stupid, genius Banite, trusting a thing like him.

He could clench his jaw and tear the tender flesh and tendons there. He could follow his father’s commands. He could, but he presses a kiss there instead- something foolish and sentimental. Something that will surely be the death of him eventually. For now, though, he is content to rest his head on Enver’s shoulder.

“Better.” Gortash hums, and they stay like that for a long moment. When Nox finally pulls back, Gortash tilts his head inquisitively, a habit he’d picked up from the Bhaalspawn, “Are you ready to behave and tell me what concerns you?”

Nox sneers, leering at him “Perhaps you should behave better, lordling. My father grows impatient,” Nox scans the room as he speaks, seeking traces of invisible, listening ears. Even if Sceleritas does not listen, it is easier if the words sound as a threat rather than a warning. “He is restless. Your god may see the need for me, but Bhaal will never see the same for a Banite.”

“You have served him unwaveringly. Surely, your father must think very highly of you for him to consider an allyship unnecessary. However, with the crown in our hands and Myrkle’s armies at our fingertips, we will make him see the need- at least for as long as we require.” Gortash’s eyes narrow, his voice dropping, “If not, we will just have to make alternative plans, won’t we?”

Nox looks away. His head is pounding in a way that he is unsure stems from his Urge or the restless nights he’s had since Sceleritas shared his father’s growing distaste of Enver. But the Banite was right. He had served his father well. He should be loved. He should be rewarded. Is, truly, one person to accompany him to the end too much to ask when his father has asked him to forsake his life and soul and each and every ounce of happiness he has found in Toril? He had given his father everything he wanted, and the answer was still 'no'. He had given Enver only parts of himself, both good and bad, and yet his answer was always 'yes'.

“Anything.” He hears himself say. Conspiratory words whispered against his god, against a part of his very soul. And yet, it almost feels as if a weight is lifted off his shoulders.

“Very good, my dearest.” Enver caresses his cheek gently “Stay the night. You ought to be well-rested before we depart.”

He nods wordlessly. He would stay. He would eat fine food and drink fine wine, and Enver would give him one of his enchanted shirts to push down the worry that would swirl in Nox’s stomach as he slept.

The guilt of sin had lingered in his mind on and off throughout the years. Now, it seeps out of him like the slow-draining life force of blood dripping from a wound. In its stead, he finds betrayal. Where the perverse well of love for his father was once held in his chest, he feels malice begin to bloom like dark oleander. And with it, he finds a sense of comfort- acceptance where he once held resistance, not for Bhaal, but instead Enver Gortash: the tyrant Chosen of Bane who yields to none, except the Chosen spawn of Bhaal.

- - -

Other drabbles: x

[prophetic-hijinks]

Princessa ( a Luisa drabble)

“OOH that slit goes high!” Isabella declared in a mock scandalized tone. As Dolores squeaked and blushed, flashing her leg out from one of Elena’s lounge dresses a few inches too short on the bottom. Enjoying the tinkling sound of crystal beads colliding only audible to her. As the excited sounds of Mirabel’s voice echoed from the closet into the cave-like antechamber of Bruno and Elena’s bedroom.

Elena giggled from her place on the loveseat next to Luisa, as Mirabel brought a handful of dresses to lay on the bed. The trio cooed over the glamorous styles. Deciding which dress would fit whom, and who was going to go next. Of course, these styles are not ones any of the girls would ever wear in the Encanto. But a throwaway statement of the girls being welcome to borrow any dress had a very pregnant Elena nearly dragged to Bruno’s tower to play dress-up. Meanwhile, the seer decided to make himself scarce to ask Antonio how to mediate a serious conflict among the rats.

Luisa and Elena watched the happy proceedings as Mirabel disappeared behind the screen to try on a velvet green dress with faux pearls hanging on the shoulder. The dress she wore the first night Bruno saw her, and her life changed. Instinctively she brought her hand to her swollen belly, happy as can be. She would be unlikely to fit those dresses again, but it was more than a fair trade.

“Whoo!”, Elena exclaimed as she felt a kick. Luisa flinching at her side, immediately reacting with protective concern. Hands at the ready to help where no help could be given.

“It’s alright, I think their ears were burning. I was thinking about them.”

Then another kick gave her a start, and Luisa reflexively checked on Elena again. “Should I get Mom?”

“I’m fine Lu. I think the armistice is over. The twins are taking turns trading fire as wombmates”. The pun perhaps not hitting, as Luisa’s brown eyes didn’t drop a smidgen of concern after the joke.

“I’m really ok, I promise.”

“Sorry, I know it is normal it's just… you’re just so small”. Luisa trailed off almost apologetically, she had been reacting strongly to every kick all morning. Elena put a reassuring hand on her arm, as she leaned back to take pressure off her spine.

“No smaller than Alma was I have been told, and she had three. Besides we know for a fact everything will be ok”. Elena said gently waving to the glowing green tablet of her future family framed above the bed. A rectangle piece of emerald glass save for a small corner cut out to make their wedding rings. A promise for a future that was almost here.

Satisfied Luisa smiled, and they both looked back at the three girls. Mirabel was trying her signature dancing twirl, but the too-tight dress was not willing to accommodate. A clever seamstress, Mirabel on her own embroidered skirt dropped the waist to capture maximum twirl. Obviously glitz and glitter had downsides.

“I’m sorry I’m too short for you to wear my dresses,” Elena offered as she thought about the contents of her closet, and if anything could be used to help her share in this moment. But her mind was drawing a blank.

“It’s alright, I like my practical clothes.” Luisa countered, but Elena didn’t quite believe it.

Luisa’s room at the beginning portion functioned like a gym. A room full of weights and dumbbells that would make Hugo jealous. The balcony like entry, opening up to a beautiful vista of rocky mountains as strong and imposing as her exterior. But like Luisa, her true nature was hidden deeper. A childlike sweetness of a woman denied a proper childhood. Her bedroom full of soft fuzzy rugs, flower linens, family photos and drawings collected on the walls, sheer curtains hanging over her bed, and a pile of stuffed animals she was gifted over the years. Of all his daughters, and despite all appearances, Luisa was Agustin’s little princess.

‘Oh that’s it!’ Elena thought with excitement as she swung her legs up, using the momentum to vault her and her rotund belly forward out of the chair. The sudden motion caught Luisa at such a surprise, she didn’t have a chance to help the petite songbird stand before she was waddling like a petite penguin to her cavernous closet.

“Now it’s not ‘practical’ mind you,” Elena called loudly from the magical closet that was bigger on the inside. Before emerging with a green velvet box. “But I have something perfect for you.”

“When I was young I used to do birthday parties during the day, and lounge at night.” Elena said with a sheepish smile, As she opened the lid. "The dresses are gone, but I couldn’t get rid of this.” With a flourish, she revealed a shimmering costume princess crown. Delighted to see Luisa’s eyes widen at the treasure. “I am a little bit of a pack rat.” Elena said as she gently fixed the crown onto Luisa’s head, pulling her braid to cover the sides. “But perhaps that is why your uncle loves me?”, she joked.

“So beautiful,” Elena said stepping back to admire her lovely sobrina. “It’s yours if you want it.”

The quickness a teary-eyed Luisa stood to tower over Elena to envelope her in one of her signature bear hugs, did give Elena pause as to whether she would pop under that affection. But ever conscious of her strength, Luisa adjusted quickly and gently enfolded her tia in thanks. Before excitedly going to admire herself in the long mirror, the trio of girls chorusing “oohs and awws” as Luisa joined them.

With very little grace, Elena gingerly sat down to watch the proceedings. A tiny oof as she settled into place with a pillow shoved behind her spine.

“I wonder, do I have a little princess of my own?” Elena asked quietly, but a smiling glance from Dolores told her it was still heard.

A tiny kick came in response and Elena leaned back happily.