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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying.

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer.

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm.

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant.

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines.

John’s icon dims.

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to.

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you.

He tried to call as often as he could.

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down.

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic.

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.”

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening.

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind.

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?”

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work.

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth.

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together.

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad?

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears.

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.”

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted?

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him.

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind.

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with.

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present.

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…”

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear.

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?”

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring.

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts.

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor.

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs.

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.”

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin.

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing.

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?”

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation.

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.”

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords.

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else.

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences.

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips.

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends.

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute.

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later.

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?”

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?”

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name.

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed.

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click.

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms.

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat.

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening.

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh.

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.”

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod.

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.”

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.”

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight.

You steel yourself and raise the box.

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair.

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully.

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm.

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead.

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders.

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed.

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship.

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!”

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly.

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.”

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it.

Pregnant.

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly.

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts.

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss.

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold.

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again.

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.”

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.”

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.”

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.”

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.”

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child.

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.”

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.”

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave.

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

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purple-babygirl · 2 months

Text

don't call me daddy IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 5,540

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

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

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

“Call me daddy.”

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

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

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

Now she was really hurt.

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

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

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

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

“I wanna go back.”

“What?!”

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

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

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

“No, back, out of here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But why?!”

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

Bucky wouldn’t understand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If that’s really what you want?”

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

“Why?”

“Just because.”

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

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

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

“Bucky didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?!”

“That is it.”

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

“But—”

“Please, Bucky, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I— I didn’t do anything.”

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

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

“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What? Where is she?”

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

“I thought that was where they lived?”

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

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

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

“Well, can you give me the address?”

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

“Please? I need to fix this.”

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

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

“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.

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

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

“Anything.”

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

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

“Sergeant James Barnes.”

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

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

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

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

That was a smile Bucky has never seen.

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

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

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

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

“Who was that?”

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

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

“You seem different.”

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

Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

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

“A coffee would be fine.”

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

“Hey!”

“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he only nodded.

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

But he didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know. I did.”

“What?!”

“I told her everything.”

“Bucky— why?”

“I had to make it right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I missed you, doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”

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

“Does he come here a lot?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hummed, letting go of her fork.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”

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

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

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

“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

“It’s true though— what?”

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

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

Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?!”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be right there, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”

part V

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588 notes · View notes

ilyhaitanii · 2 months

Text

save a horse, ride a cowboy ! ft. boothill

nsfw. you are tasked with the job of investigating a man named boothill who has attracted the attention of the ipc, little did you know, you'd fall for his charms and be caught under his teeth just like those bullets he shot at you a few moments ago

a/n: CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK YEOOOOOCH!!!!!!!!!!!! i need him so bad it's actually driving me insane. he's all ive been to think about for the past few days

there's no way this is happening right now. you dash down the constracution zone of the city, trying to evade your target. he shoots one bullet at you, barely missing your head. you yelp, your lungs begging for air.

you turn the corner, begging and praying you've finally lost the man. just as you press your back to a wall, an arm slams down beside you

"found ya," he snickers. caught red handed, boothill corners you into an alleyway. he towers over you, the sound of his mechanic limbs slightly squeak, causing you to flinch. his hat covers his eyes, but his sly smirk perfectly teases those razor-sharp teeth of his.

"what do we have here?" boothill leans down, his arms caging you into the corner. under him, you feel so small. his large chest plate covering your entire field of vision. he's so close to you that he can practically feel the anxiety vibrating off your body.

"please don't hurt me! i'm sorry, sir please!!" there's saliva pooling under your tongue as you try your hardest to stammer out an excuse. you're not even an ipc executive-- your just some lowlife who is in debt to them.

"wanna tell me why you're following me all the way out here, dollface? saw you at the entrance of the hotel." his metal thumb making contact with your bitten lower lip. the cold has you trembling under him, fearful for your life. "y'er not that good at tailing," the galaxy ranger chuckles.

"i'm not tailing you, sir. please, i'm sorry," your voice is so low, so timid. you were such a curious little thing when you were tailing him. the contrast has boothill chuckling. he hums, rubbing his thumb across your soft lips.

"we both know that's not the truth, so let's try that again. why's a pretty gem like you tailing a man like me?" his lips curl into a sadistic smile. a shiver crawls up your spine at his expression. there truly is no way of getting out of this, is there?

"i was sent by the ipc...please don't hurt me!" you try your best to squirm in his hold, but boothill's leg between yours keeps your pelvis in place. he lets out a whistle,

"is that so? how sad. what're you look to find?" his thumb does an especially rough drag on your lip, before gently soothing the skin. you wince, eyes screwed shut.

"they want to know why you're here, sir. i'm just an informant, please?" he laughs again before pulling away from you. boothill's fingers are quick to wrap around your wrist as he tugs you along with him.

"mm...well in that case, i'll send you back to the ipc with a little message. how does that sound?" he looks over his shoulder at you, pitying your pathetic expression.

you dumbly nod as the anxiety in your stomach has reached an all time high, sensing this, boothill speaks,

"don't worry, i don't hurt pretty things like you. it'll be quick, yeah?"

he's rough, almost addicting. the pleasure you're receiving from boothill is almost mind numbing. your thighs are thrown around his hips while his cold hands are digging into your hips. he raises your body up his cock before slamming you back down onto him. your jaw is slacked, voice unable to let out a scream.

"poor thing~" he coos, watching the way your brows furrow in ecstasy. he can feel your hips twitching and cunt clenching around him. his head is laid back on the bed with a hand presses against your lower back.

"atta girl, you got it. come on, baby." boothill finds your struggle amusing. you can barely register his voice, not when his thumb is vibrating against your clit and your nipples are so stiff. he leans himself up a bit, swirling the tip of his tongue against your stiffed peaks.

you mangle out a squeal, fingers scratching against boothill armored shoulders. with your head thrown back, you manage to circle your hips around his cock as he bounces you up and down. a series of curses fall from your mouth when boothill bites down on your nipple. the pain mixed with so many different types of stimulation creates pools of tears in your eyes.

"let go, sweetheart." boothill laughs with his pink tongue peaking out from his lips. the knot in your stomach is so overwhelming and your vision is so blurred. the dizzying feeling finally reaches it climax as you clench around boothill for the umpteenth time and gush around his cock. you cum so hard, your body physically jerks, falling flat against him.

as you come down from your high, boothill smoothes his hand over your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"good girl~ make sure to tell your folks about this, alright? and tell 'em i'll be coming to find 'em too," you don't exactly listen to his words, but when you're sipping on a bottle of soda while walking back to your hotel room, you think that boothill may not have been joking...

fuck, there goes your commission check.

#boothill x reader #boothill x you #hsr smut #hsr x reader #boothill smut #boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #i need this man so bad #LEMME HIT BOOTHILL PLS....

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

Text

Injured VIII

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: There's an emergency

"Alexia...Alexia...Alexia!"

Alexia comes back into consciousness slowly. It's still dark out and her alarm clock proclaims it to be nearly two in the morning.

Olga is standing over the bed and even in the dim light, Alexia can tell something is wrong. Olga is saying something but Alexia is still waking up and only tunes in at the very end.

"-Already called Jenni. She's going to meet us there."

Alexia sits up, rubbing her eyes. "Meet us there? Jenni? What's going on?"

She flicks on the bedside light. Olga is still in her pyjamas but she's wearing her coat over the top and a pair of shoes. She's got Jaume on her hip.

He's got old little red pinpricks all over his neck and arms.

"Is that chickenpox?"

"No," Olga says, babbling at rapid speed as she shoves the sheets off Alexia's body," I thought it was but I saw some article on my feed about how to make sure it's not anything else and-"

"Olga? What is going on?"

"I think it's meningitis," Olga finally says," And we need to take him to the hospital."

Alexia's up like a shot, hopping around on one foot as she grabs the first set of shoes she can find. "It can't be," She denies," We got him vaccinated. I remember it!"

"That's what I thought!" Olga says back," But the rash doesn't go away when I press a glass to it and you know how he's been lately!"

Alexia nods, pulling on a Barca issued jacket. She pauses as she moves. "Bambi," She murmurs before raising her voice," Shit, Bambi! She was running a bit hot after her ballet class. But I just assumed it was all the movement. My phone...Where's my phone? I need to-"

"I used it to call Jenni," Olga says as they both go running out the door," She's going to meet us there."

She and Olga get there well before you and Jenni do.

Jaume is taken to get a spinal tap but the doctor is confident that it's meningitis so puts him on antibiotics as soon as the procedure is done.

"I don't understand," Alexia says," My kids are vaccinated! Both of them! They're up to date. I took Bambi to all of her boosters! Jaume's scheduled for another one when he hits a year!"

"Sometimes vaccines aren't one hundred percent effective," The doctor says, clearly used to calming enrage parents," What matters is that you saw it and you got him in tonight. The spinal tap should confirm the diagnosis but we've already got him on an IV." The doctor turns to leave before stopping. "You've got another child?"

Alexia's head frantically nods. "Yes. A girl. She's four. She's being brought in now."

The doctor nods, scribbling something on his clipboard. "As soon as she's here, have someone page me. Older children find it harder to stay still for the spinal tap. I'll contact anaesthesia and get someone to bring a mask."

Alexia's head changes from nodding to shaking furiously. "No!" She says it a bit louder than she meant to that even Olga looks shocked.

"It'll be better," Olga tries to explain," If they put her to sleep-"

"No, I mean..." Alexia shakes her head, the words spilling out of her mouth naturally. "She's allergic! To Isoflurane! That's the gas anaesthesia, right? Right?"

She looks around wildly as the doctor's face turns grim.

"I'll get some local," The doctor says," I know we made you wait outside for Jaume but it would be best if you came in for your daughter, if we're only using local, to keep her calm."

It's a waiting game until Jenni arrives with you and Alexia finds herself doom scrolling. She's dived into whatever article she can find on meningitis in children and the more she reads, the worse she feels.

They're yet to be allowed into see Jaume as the staff work to get him a bit more comfortable but Alexia can see him through the window and he's completely passed out asleep.

"I didn't know y/n was allergic to anything," Olga says softly.

Alexia laughs. It's more a nervous chuckle than anything else. "I don't even think Jenni does. My father was allergic. It skipped me and Alba but I wanted to check for Bambi, just in case."

"It's a good thing you did," Olga says.

Alexia looks down at her phone. "Where are they? They should be here by now."

"They'll be here soon. It's going to be okay."

It takes another ten minutes for you and Jenni to arrive.

You look infinitely worse than Jaume. The rash is completely obvious, taking over your whole body and Jenni looks just as distressed.

It takes another ten for the doctor to return.

You don't understand what's going on. Your Ma-Jenni woke you up super early before the sun has come up. She didn't get you dressed or brush your hair how you like it.

She didn't explain much at all...or, anything really. She just put you in the car and didn't say anything.

You'd tried to ask but your throat felt all scratchy and your tummy hurt.

All you know now is that you're at the hospital with Ma-Jenni, Mami and Miss Olga. There's a strange man with cold fingers that takes your shirt from you and makes you curl up on your side.

"Ma-Jenni?" You ask, trembling," What's going on?"

"Ssh, Bambi," Ma-Jenni says. Her tone is harsh, harsher than you've ever heard her speak to you and your tummy ties itself in a knot at her words.

You can hear the strange man talking nonsense to the adults and your eyes go wide at the tray of tools that's wheeled in. They look pointy and sharp, like the tools from that silly doctor show that Tia Alba likes.

You suck in a harsh breath when you feel a pinch at your back. You yelp and instantly try to wiggle away.

"No!" You cry," No! Off! Stop it! I don't want to! I don't want to!"

You force yourself to uncurl. You don't want this strange man touching your back. He makes it hurt and you got want any more of his sharp tools in your skin.

There's a grip on your legs though, forcing them back into position. You turn your head to look at who's got you against your will.

It's Ma-Jenni.

Her grip is firm and hard as she forces your kicking legs still. One of her arms has clamped them together, forcing them to stop moving while her other hand is on your hip, forcing your down onto the table until you're immobile.

You want her hands off you. Ma-Jenni has big hands that are perfect to hold you but not like this, never like this. You don't want her touching you like this.

"Ma-Jenni," You sob," Stop it! Stop it, please! Please!"

She doesn't stop though, merely readjusts her grip and pushes you down further until you well and truly can't move your bottom half.

"Stop it!" You continue to say," Stop it, Mama! Mama, stop!"

Hands curve around your shoulders and these are familiar hands too.

Mami's hands are perfect to hold in yours. They're always warm and they always hold you so gently. But now they've got your arms pinned to your chest and are forcing your shoulders firmly into the examination bed.

"Mami," You cry," Please stop. Mami, please. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mami! Stop!"

Mami's lips ghost your hairline. "I'm sorry, Bambi," She says, her voice a whisper that you can barely hear over your panic," I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. You just need to be still. I'm sorry."

You can't move and the strange man is doing things to your back. You can't feel any pain but you can feel pressure and you can feel when he sticks something beneath your skin where things aren't supposed to go.

The only thing you can do is move your eyes and they focus on Miss Olga, the only adult in the room that's not actively hurting you.

"Miss Olga," You sob," Make them stop."

Her eyes nervously dart to the door like she wants to run away but she doesn't. She steps closer to where the adults are holding you, crouching down until your heads are almost the same height.

"I'm so sorry," She says to you," It's going to be okay, I promise. They're just making sure you're healthy."

"Miss Olga, please," You reply. You try to kick out your legs but Ma-Jenni just grips them more tightly," I'm sorry. I can be good. I can be better!"

"Hey," She says softly when your eyes dart towards your Mami," You are being so good. There's no one being better. Do you know what's going on?"

"No."

"You're very sick," Miss Olga speaks gently to you and brushes away a portion of hair that's covering your eyes," And we need to know what's wrong. Do you remember a few months ago when we came here and they put a needle in my arm?"

You do remember that. It was on one of hospital visits that you went on to see baby Jaume in Miss Olga's belly. They took some of her blood that appointment.

"They takin' my blood?" You ask shakily.

"They're taking a little bit of fluid from your back," Miss Olga explains," And they're going to test that for the illness they think you have. Like how they took my blood to make sure I was healthy."

You sniffle.

Mami and Ma-Jenni's hands are like shackles around your limbs, wrapped around your flesh and unwilling to even give you an inch.

"I'm scared," You whisper.

"That's okay," Olga whispers back," It's always okay to be a little scared. But you're doing so well. You're being such a brave girl. I'm sure it won't be much longer now."

You can feel the thing in your back moving and you try to shift with it but Ma-Jenni's hand clamps down on your hip and anchors you to it so you can't move again, not even a little rock back and forth.

"Hey," Olga says, pulling your attention away from what's happening at your back," Your Mami told me that you've moved up in ballet. I'm sure it's so much fun."

"It is."

"That's great! Do you want to tell me about it?"

Actually, you find that you do what to tell Olga about your ballet. Your words come out stilted and stuttered but you force them out of your mouth.

Olga smiles at you. She's got a pretty smile, you think. Mami must really love girls with pretty smiles.

"That sounds so cool," Olga says to you," You must be so talented." She leans a bit closer to you and you don't even feel the man taking the pointy thing out of your back. "Hey, maybe when you're all better, you can show me some moves. Only if you'd like to."

You duck your head down as the hands slowly leave your body. "Yes, please."

You're rolled onto your back but you keep your head tilted to look at Olga.

You don't know much about her apart from the fact that she's marrying your Mami and they had baby Jaume together.

Mami and Ma-Jenni are still talking to the doctor so you can fully focus on Olga.

She and baby Jaume look alike, you think. They've got the same eyes and nose and face shape. You think that baby Jaume might get her pretty smile when he's older too.

Her hand is gently resting on the side of your bed and you very gently move your own until your fingers are touching.

She hasn't got big hands like how Mami and Ma-Jenni's are big but they're still bigger than yours. They're safe too. You know this because she's never once dropped baby Jaume, even when she once tripped over and fell on her butt. She didn't drop Jaume once.

She smiles her pretty smile and you smile too, not even noticing when the nurse hooks you up to an IV.

"Hey, Bambi," Mami says," Everything's going to be okay now. I'm so-"

You stubbornly don't look at her and she frowns.

"Bambi?" Ma-Jenni asks," How's your back?"

You don't even deign her with an answer. It's still early and you're very tired. You don't want to talk to them, not when they pinned you down like that.

"I'm sorry," The nurse says," But I'm going to have ask you all to leave. The legal guardians can sleep over but that's all."

You don't know what legal guardians means but you do know that Ma-Jenni isn't one. She lives in Mexico for most of the year so she can't be your guardian because you don't live there with her.

She looks like she's going to argue but she doesn't. She reaches to give you a kiss on the forehead but you flinch away and she stops before her lips can press against your skin.

"I love you, Bambi," She says," And I'll be back to see you as early as I can."

You don't answer her.

It's just Olga and Mami left.

"I'm going to go sit with Jaume," Olga says and you frown.

"Jaume's sick too? Did I get him sick?" Your bottom lip wobbles.

"No, of course not." Olga says firmly," You and Jaume just got sick at the same time. It's very sad but it does happen."

"Really?"

"Yes." She heads to the door. "I hope you feel much better later. Maybe, if you feel up to it, you can tell me about your trains? Your Mami says that you love them a lot."

You nod. "Yes."

Then, it's just you and Mami left.

The nurse has set up a little bed next to yours for Mami to sleep on.

Mami seems a little nervous with you, pulling at the sleeves of her pyjama shirt. She looks at you.

You look at her.

You only saw her a few days again, when you painted pottery together and you asked her if you were wanted.

Mami doesn't sit in her bed, she pulls up a chair next to yours. She tries to reach for your hand but you pull it away before she can touch you, cradling it against your chest as you stare.

"Bambi," She begins before shaking her head and stopping. She takes a few moments before opening her mouth again. "I'm very, very sorry."

Those weren't the words that you were expecting.

You still don't answer though. If you blink, you can still feel her phantom hands over your body and the iron grip she had on your limbs.

She scoots the chair closer.

"I love you so much and I'm so sorry that you're sick."

She looks like she wants to say more but you don't really want her to keep talking.

"Bambi, I...I have not been a very good Mami to you," Alexia has to force the words out of her throat even if you give no indication that you can hear her," And I'm very, very sorry."

You still don't say anything. You just lie on your back with your eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry for what happened at home and I'm sorry for what a few-"

"I'm tired, Mami," You say, your voice quiet and exhausted.

"Right," Alexia says, scolding herself inwardly at keeping you up. It's still the middle of the night. "You go to sleep, Bambi. I'll be right here if you need me."

The stress of everything tonight seems to knock you out quickly but Alexia doesn't move to her own bed. She doesn't move. She doesn't sleep. She just stays in that seat even as a nurse pops their head in to confirm that both you and Jaume have bacterial meningitis.

A week hospital visit and IV's full of antibiotics is what awaits you both, baring any complications.

Jenni returns as soon as visiting hours begin again, pulling Alba and Eli in tow.

Eli diverts briefly to check on Olga and Jaume while Jenni and Alba come straight to you. You're still asleep when they arrive, lying on your back with a cannula in your hand to administer your medication.

"You look exhausted," Alba says in greeting, handing off a cup of to-go coffee to her sister," Did you sleep at all?"

"No." Alexia continues to stare at you, focussed on the soft rise and fall of your chest as you sleep.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Alba continues and, for once, her tone isn't biting. She seems genuinely surprised. "Haven't you got training?"

"I called off for the week," Alexia replies," And next week. It's more than enough time for them both to recover."

"You're taking time off?" Alba looks even more surprised than before. "Like, actually?"

Alexia doesn't know why that's so confusing. "Of course. My kids are sick. They need to be looked after."

Alba's mouth opens and closes a few times before she settles on something to say," How is Jaume?"

"Good, better. The doctors said that it's good we caught it when we did. The longer the rash is there for, the worse he could have gotten. It came up last night. We caught here as quick as we could."

Alexia's glad for that. She has no idea what could have happened, how much worse Jaume could have gotten if they had left it a few hours, let alone a few days.

Jenni is strangely silent at her words, reaching out to gently brush some of your hair out of your face.

"How long of a hospital stay?" Alba asks.

"About a week for both of them. The doctors said that they're going to do a hearing test with Bambi in a few days and then four weeks after she's recovered."

"And Jaume?"

"The same," Alexia confirms," Olga is with him now."

"Mama's with her," Alba says," We picked her up on the way."

There's a rustle of sheets as you blink awake. A yawn takes over your whole face as you wake up.

Mami, Ma-Jenni and Tia Alba are all looking at you and you pull your blankets up until they're over your nose.

You don't like the fact that Mami and Ma-Jenni are in the same room together. You can still feel their weights on you, pinning you to the bed as you struggled to get free.

You don't want them here. Not within arms length of you, in case they take your top away again and pin you down.

"Tia," You croak out and Alba pushes past Ma-Jenni to take your hand.

"You're not looking too good there, Bambi," Tia Alba says," How are you feeling?"

"Is Jaume still sick too?"

"He's getting a lot better. Your Abuela and Olga are with him now."

"Is Abuela and Olga going to get sick too?"

"No, don't be silly. Adults don't get sick like that." Tia Alba's teasing you. She's putting on a silly voice and it shocks a little giggle out of you. "I'm sure once your Abuela is done with baby Jaume then she'll be right in to see you."

"And Olga too?"

Alexia goes rigid in her seat. "Olga doesn't have to come in if you don't want her to."

You don't even acknowledge she's talking to you.

"No one has to come in that you don't want to," Jenni promises you but you don't give any indication that you heard her either.

"Olga thinks that I'm talented," You say to Tia Alba," She asked me about my ballet and my trains. She wanted to know more. Did you bring any of my trains?"

The bag on Jenni's shoulder is passed off to Alba. She digs through it, pulling out a spare change of clothes as well as a few model trains that had been shoved in there this morning.

"I want to show Olga my trains," You say," When she's done with baby Jaume." You run your trains over the bed, making little chugging noises with your mouth.

"I think that's a great idea, Bambi," Alexia says but you don't answer.

You haven't acknowledged her or Jenni since you woke up and it's put her on edge. Even when you were scared a few days ago, you still acknowledged her.

But your focus is purely on Alba but even that is hit and miss.

Whenever Alba reaches out to play trains with you, you flinch away. You look up at her in shock each time before glancing back down at your arms as if you can't believe you flinched.

"How are you feeling, Bambi?" Eli asks as she comes in.

You shrug and raise your hand. "They put a thing in my hand."

"They put one in your brother's too," Eli says," It's to give you your medicine."

"Did they put the thing in Jaume's back too?"

Eli nods. "They did."

Your eyes are haunted as you stare at her. "Did they pin him down too?"

Whatever bubble that the room was in bursts and Eli notices the way Alexia and Jenni both exchange a wide eyed look, like two little children caught red handed.

Eli has to think over her words carefully. "You're both very sick," She settles on eventually," Do you know why they had to put something in your back?"

You parrot back the words Olga told you and Abuela nods.

"That's right," She says.

"Olga says I was very brave even though I was crying."

"I'm sure you were the bravest little girl in the world," Abuela kisses your forehead but her lips feel too much like Mami and Ma-Jenni's and suddenly you can feel their hands on you again.

You kick your legs out and move your arms to shake the phantom hands off and they're gone as quickly as they appeared.

"Alexia, Jenni," Abuela says," Can I talk to you out in the hall?"

As they all leave, you look through the windows of your room.

Olga is lingering outside, looking into your room every so often before looking away.

"Tia Alba," You say," Can I still show Olga my trains?"

"Should I bring her in here?"

"Yes, please."

Ma-Jenni and Mami stay outside with Abeula for a long time but you don't even notice.

You've never talked with Olga like this before, not really. There had been a few moments when she was pregnant with baby Jaume where you watched things together and you helped her cook but you had never been like this with her before.

You hand her one of your trains and smile when she plays with you, gently moving the trains around your bed together.

"Is Jaume going to be okay?" You ask her because she's Jaume's mami and she knows things like that.

"He's going to be just fine," She promises you," And so are you. Just a few more days."

"I'm going to miss ballet," You say," That's bad. Mami never misses her training so I shouldn't miss mine."

"Your Mami's missing training now," Olga says," And she's missing it until you get healthy again. That's what you should focus on. Getting healthy again so you can go back to ballet."

"Mami is missing training? Why?"

"Because she wants to make sure you're okay," Olga says," Because she loves you."

You don't believe her but Olga looks very serious so you think that she must think that's true.

"Olga," You say," I'm hungry. When's lunch?"

She laughs a little bit about your blatant change of subject. "A few hours still," She says," How about I go to the shop and get you a snack?"

Olga slips out into the hallway where Eli is still lecturing Jenni and Alexia about their treatment of you. Your sobs and begging still rung in Olga's ears, the way that you cried and cried and begged and begged.

"She's hungry," She says, interrupting the lecture," I'm going to get her a snack."

"I'll come with you," Jenni says," I need a coffee."

The trip to the little shop was awkward, made even more awkward when Olga selected a plain chocolate bar only to have it plucked from her hand and replaced with one with caramel.

"She thinks the plain ones are too hard," Jenni says, almost carelessly," She doesn't like how they feel on her teeth. She prefers caramel."

Olga stares down at the chocolate in her hand, noting down another new thing in the column dedicated to you in her mind. It's painfully bare with only a few things - trains, ballet, the allergy she found out yesterday and now your favourite kind of chocolate.

She had told Alexia she wasn't threatened by Jenni and that's still true but that doesn't mean that Olga isn't intimidated.

Jenni just looks a bit intimidating with her tattoos and her height and the stern look on her face when it comes to you.

"Thanks."

It's silent for a moment as they both wander through the winding hallways back up to the peds wing.

"No," Jenni says eventually, shaking her head like she had been fighting with herself," I'm sorry, Olga. But I have to know...How could you let this happen? With Bambi, I mean? Stuff like this doesn't happen overnight."

Olga wants to bolt, to run and escape this but she holds herself firm as she scrambles to find something to say, knowing exactly what Jenni is talking about. "I didn't notice," She settles on eventually," It is wrong to say but it is true."

Jenni can't seem to understand though. "But how? Bambi is...How could you just not notice?"

"I just didn't," Olga says," And that was wrong of me. It was wrong of Alexia. We've talked about it...a lot...We're trying to move forward, for y/n."

Jenni looks at her, long and hard and Olga suddenly understands what rival players feel when they see Jenni come onto the pitch.

"Don't let it happen again," Jenni says firmly before taking off again, leaving Olga to scramble to keep up.

You're exactly as they left you, sitting in the middle of your bed. You're making chugging noises with your mouth as you run a train over Eli's arm.

Alexia is back in her seat next to your bed but you've scooched away from her as far as you can get.

"Caramel!" You cheer when Olga presents your food," That's my favourite! Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

You munch happily on your food a little but before you stop to scratch at your rash.

Automatically, like she did a few days ago when she first noticed it, Jenni takes your hand to stop you scratching.

You violently flinch away, tearing your hand away from hers. You scrunch your eyes closed firmly as you suck in air.

You can feel the hands on your legs again, forcing you to go immobile as the strange man pokes and prods at your back.

"No!" You cry out, turning away and curling up under your blanket," Stop it! Stop it, Mama! No bad touches! No more bad touches!" You kick your legs out. "No! Stop it!"

"Out," You can hear your Abuela say.

Eli-"

"Out, Jenni! Alexia, you too! Olga-"

"I'll go and see Jaume. He should be up from his nap by now."

"No! No! No!" You continue to chant as the blanket is pealed back.

It's not Ma-Jenni though. It's Abuela with Tia Alba hovering over her shoulder.

You sniffle if you sit up again.

"What happened, huh, Bambi?" Abuela asks," What was that about?"

"Mama hurt me," You say," When the strange man touched my back. I asked her not to! I asked her to stop!"

"I know," Abuela says," I know, Bambi."

"I didn't know what was happening," You say," It was scary and Mama wouldn't tell me what was going on."

It was very scary. You didn't think Ma-Jenni would do that to you, would pin you down and not explain what was happening. Mami could be harsh sometimes and you know she can be rough on the pitch too. She even said she was sorry while doing it but Ma-Jenni didn't.

Ma-Jenni told you to shh and pinned you down and didn't say sorry. You can still feel her hands on you, constantly pinning your legs down and pushing you further into bed.

She didn't say sorry at all and that's what scares you.

"I'm sorry that scared you," Abuela says," I'm sure Jenni didn't mean to."

"She didn't say sorry," You say," And she hurt me."

"Bambi-"

"She did! I'm not lying!"

"No one says' you're lying," Tia Alba assures you," I think you're telling the truth but, Bambi, you needed to have that done, so you can get better."

Ma-Jenni comes back when it's dark. There's no lights coming through your windows and the moon is out so you know it's night time.

Mami is meant to be sleeping on the bed next to you but she's not there.

The door to your room opens though and Ma-Jenni steps in.

But she doesn't look like Ma-Jenni though. There's something different about her. Maybe it's her too sharp features or her too pointed teeth. Maybe it's the curve of her nails or the way she's looming over you.

You can't move and Monster-Jenni's sharp claws dig into your legs easily.

You shriek but she's pressing her whole weight down onto the hand that's got your legs while her other one pins you down by your chest. You can't move. You can't stop her no matter how much you plead and beg and sob.

She's still holding you with bad touches and the strange man appears again. He's got too sharp teeth too and a massive needle that looks even scarier than before.

"Mami!" You cry as you jolt awake, gripping your bedsheets and screaming.

Mami's up like a shot, looking around like she thinks someone's hiding in the shadows. You're scared that Monster-Jenni is there too.

"Mami!" You sob, reaching desperately for her, your mind recycling her apologies as she held you down.

This time though, you crawl into her arms and sob, burying your face in her shirt as you cry.

For a moment, Alexia is in shock at your willingness to touch her. Whatever you had dreamt about must have been bad because you've curled your body around hers and Alexia very carefully curls her arms around you.

"It's okay, Bambi," She whispers," It's okay. It wasn't real. None of it was real. I've got you. Mami's got you."

"Mami," You whimper," Mami, it hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Everything!"

"I'm so sorry, Bambi," Alexia says and she knows that you know what she means, just like how you know she knows what you mean by everything," It's all going to be okay. I promise, this is all going to be okay. No matter what happens."

"I'm scared, Mami."

"I know, Bambi. I'm going to help make it better."

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