#i would tag sky but i feel bad tagging her so much for art already

[synthshenanigans]

Another hms sticker ive collected :}

Got other ones as well that arnt CJ related too V

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hey lovelies!!

Did you know that @bokettochild graduated college??? Did you know that she’s awesome and deserves to be celebrated and have her tumblr family celebrate with her??? Because she 100% does.

So! I’m declaring a graduation party post for Ketto! Reblog this post, tag Ketto, and send her some love/accolades. ❤️ I’ve got a few gifts for her from some of us!

Here’s some art from @nancyheart11!

And some art from @kikker-oma!

And here's a gift from me :D

Lon Lon Ranch had been lovely. It really had. But Legend wasn’t accustomed to staying in one place for too long, and seeing a Hero of Courage settled into such domesticity was…

The veteran sighed, crossing his arms irritably.

At least they were done. A part of him felt bad even thinking that, but he was too annoyed and tired to worry about it much. Malon was wonderful, and he would love to visit again, but… whatever. He woke up irritated today, he was sore and hurting and wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone.

When the sailor bounced over and started talking excitedly to him, Legend did his best to make an exception for the kid. He didn’t have to speak much when Wind was around anyway - the youngest Link usually did enough talking for the whole group.

As Wind started showing Legend his seashell collection, however, the veteran’s patience started to wear thin. His acknowledgements grew shorter by the second, and when the sailor paused to rifle through his bag, Legend pat the kid’s back and walked away to just get some distance.

Which was then taken away from him by Wild stepping in his path. “Hey Vet, I had an idea about your fire rod–”

“No,” Legend immediately said dully. “You’re enough of a pyromaniac. You’re not touching it.”

“Well, technically the captain has it now–”

“And I can take it from him whenever I want. He’s borrowing it.”

“Long-term borrowing,” Warriors pointed out with a smirk as he waved the rod. “Thanks again for that, though.”

Legend waved his hand dismissively, stepping around Wild.

“Hey, I found it!” Wind chirped cheerily, completely missing the fact that Legend was desperately trying to be alone.

“I don’t care,” the elder Hero finally snapped. Wind’s brow furrowed in exasperation and the kid huffed.

Warriors rolled his eyes. “You’re already not a morning person, are you not an evening person either? Is there any time you’re not a grouch?”

Legend felt his ire bubbling more. “Not everyone can babble aimlessly for two hours like you can.”

“What’s eating you up?” Warriors asked, his face pinching in annoyance.

“You are! Anything is! I’m just tired, damn it, aren’t I allowed to be tired?” Legend finally snapped before pointing accusingly at Sky. “Sky’s always tired and nobody gets on him for it!”

The area quieted, most of the boys looking in his direction. Legend regretted saying it the instant he did. Sky’s exhaustion was both a point of contention and a point of concern to many in the group, most notably Sky himself.

Feeling even worse now, the veteran stormed out of the camp, ignoring Wind’s call.

They had traveled fairly far in the day since they’d departed Lon Lon Ranch. A portal has fed into a bright, forested area, and they’d cut their path through hills until they hit the base of a mountain and had settled for the day. With fresh energy within his body, fueled by frustration and an ache he couldn’t put words to, Legend traipsed up a set of stone stairs that overlooked the forest sloping down the mountainside. He traipsed onward, foliage and sticks snapping in his wake, birdsong echoing in the air alongside the distant call of fairy magic. The air cooled the higher he climbed, his face flushed and stinging by the time he emerged from the dense woods.

The vague path he’d been following bled into a wide opening, the peak of the mountain, a place of harshly cut stone and constant winds and a view of the world below. He climbed the rock a little ways before sliding into a seated position, the wind settling a bit as crickets heralded the oncoming dusk.

Legend sighed.

He… hadn’t meant to snap like that, but by the triforce it wasn’t like he hadn’t been trying to hold himself together.

There was the sound of a foot slipping on rock, and Legend reached for his blade automatically when he turned and saw Sky.

The veteran hero froze, unsure what to expect. The Skyloftian was huffing a little, clearly winded, but trying to keep it quiet as he followed Legend’s path up the steep rocks. Eventually, he settled beside Legend with a little smile.

“Sorry for the captain,” Sky offered after a moment. “He means well, but he pushes too much sometimes.”

Sky had followed him all the way up here to apologize for someone else? Legend’s annoyance grew, but it died just as easily. He didn’t have energy to be upset about this anymore. He wanted to be alone, he wanted comfort, he wanted isolation, he didn’t know what he wanted.

“No, it’s…”

It’s more than that. He knew it was. Spending too much time at the ranch… it…

It reminded him of everything he didn’t have. Everything he could’ve had if he hadn’t lost it. And maybe it was stupid to feel that way, especially when he did enjoy adventuring so much, but…

But sometimes it just hurt.

Sky watched him for a little while, body relaxing as he had time to catch his breath. Legend didn’t know what to say.

“Do you miss home?” Sky asked.

Legend huffed. “Not much to miss. Besides, I’m on a new quest. I don’t think about home much.”

The elder Link’s brow furrowed slightly at the words, and then Sky grew pensive, staring out at the view in front of them. A falcon flew across the way, gliding by their line of vision as it let the wind carry it effortlessly.

“I didn’t want to be a Hero,” Sky said softly, making Legend stare at him. The crickets filled the silent void that followed before the knight continued, “It didn’t make sense that it was me. I was the lazy one, the guy who was always tired and daydreaming. I didn’t really have a direction or plan for anything. I just… coasted through life.”

Legend watched him, unsure what to say about the situation and still too caught in his own head to offer words anyway. Sky smiled softly, his eyes distant. “But the goddess had other plans. It’s… comforting to know we all have paths laid out for us, and it’s fun figuring out where we fit in with the world around us, you know?”

Sighing, the veteran hero nodded, gaze drifting to the valley below. He puffed out his chest a little. “It’s an honor to be a Hero. I’m thankful for that honor.”

“Yes,” Sky agreed, though the lilt in his tone indicated there was more to it. “But your path has sucked.”

This startled a laugh out of Legend, harsh and bitter and surprisingly vulnerable. The veteran hero hiccupped and covered his faux pas with a little quip. “That wasn’t the most eloquent way to phrase it.”

Sky shrugged with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not really an eloquent guy. But I can tell when there’s more to things than people say.”

His friend looked him in the eye, eyes seeming to bore into his soul. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Legend was held hostage in the gaze, words caged in his chest alongside his breath.

His uncle. Marin. He’d lost many on his journeys. He’d been isolated, hurt, terrified.

His breath released shakily, shoulders slumping as he looked at his lap, breaking the hold Sky had on him. “.....Yeah.”

The crickets chirped gently as a breeze brushed by them, cooling the hot flush of tears threatening to spill. Legend closed his eyes a moment, letting the wind carry him, feeling his hair tickle his face.

Sky’s hand was gentle on his back. “It’s… okay not to be okay sometimes, you know.”

The words were so simple. Ridiculously simple. Stupidly simple. Legend bit his lip.

He truly did love being a hero, he truly did love being able to help others. Why wasn’t that enough? He didn’t need to let everything else phase him.

It’s okay not to be okay sometimes.

Legend hiccupped. Folded in on himself. Shuddered.

And then he cried.

It was embarrassing, really, and at first he tried to downplay it. The hiccups and sobs tire out of him in startled gasps, but the more he tightened into a ball and tried to muscle through it, the gentler Sky’s hold became.

Legend tried to snap at Sky to lay off and leave him be, and all that came out was a loud hiccup that caught him so off guard he had to laugh at it. Sky took it as an invitation, pulling him sideways so his head settled on the knight’s shoulder, and Legend couldn’t stop the tears and desperate gasps that escaped him.

Sky’s head relaxed over Legend’s, his body warm at the veteran’s side. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t have to. Legend cried until he only had little pathetic hiccups remaining, and the younger Link sniffled, grumbling as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pouch.

Legend blew his nose and had a snippy halfhearted remark at the tip of his tongue before he sighed and pulled away, letting himself be vulnerable a moment longer. “Thanks. I… thanks.”

Sky’s smile was as soft as the clouds overhead, eyes watching him carefully. “You’re welcome. Want to head back?”

The air grew chillier by the moment, and though Legend probably would prefer to stay up here, he knew the others would start to worry. Warriors and Twilight would probably go searching for them soon. He took a breath of the mountain air and let the wind dry his tears, and then he nodded.

When they returned to the camp, everyone was waiting in various states of worry or curiosity. Wind offered a small hello, and Legend smiled at the youngest member, reassuring him that his earlier outburst was not the sailor’s fault.

The veteran hero hugged himself a little, not caring for all the scrutiny he was receiving and definitely not knowing how to backtrack on his earlier outburst. He didn’t have to, though - everyone settled into a routine, worry abated by Sky’s smile and nod. The team huddled around the fire for dinner, a quiet cheer bubbling from Link to Link in the form of snippets of conversations. 

Wind flopped onto the ground with a laugh. “You should’ve seen the captain and the rancher, they were about ready to arm wrestle over who was gonna find you two!”

“Arm wrestle?” Sky asked with a laugh as he slipped his sailcloth off.

“The old man suggested it because they kept trying to one up each other,” Hyrule explained with a smile. “The captain would say it was his responsibility to make sure you were ok and then Rancher would say he was the better tracker and it went on for like forever.”

Four silently laid out some blankets for a softer seating area, and he and Sky settled with a space in between as the knight plopped his cloak over his friend.

As Legend settled beside Sky, comfortably wrapped in his sailcloth, he accepted Wild’s hearty stew and sighed with a little smile. “Thanks. I… I don’t deserve you guys.”

“Ah, yes, you are correct, you absolutely do not deserve me,” Warriors tutted with a false air of superiority and a wink. “But I shall grace you with my presence nonetheless.”

Legend shoved the captain with a roll of his eyes, chuckling despite the maneuver, and the group shared a hearty meal that warmed his heart and soul alongside his stomach.

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 4-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 2,920 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Mentions of violence sort of, Mild sexually suggestive language.

A/n: I have a big work week ahead of me so I may not be able to get much done in terms of writing and especially in terms of art, but I am excited to write out more chapters. In this chapter there is pretty much just fluff so I wasn't sure of what to write for warnings (I'm so bad at knowing what should be a warning I'm so sorry). Enjoy this chapter and the art, leave a like or a comment, Re-blogs greatly appreciated!

User tags: @fan-goddess

Chapter 4

A month has passed since you moved to Fuller, Texas into a property left to you by a distant relative. You visited the Hewitt family at least two or three times a week and made close friends with Luda Mae; every now and then you would see Tommy, and Luda Mae would try to get him to talk to you but he would just freeze and avoid contact. Eventually he would be able to stay in the same area when you were there but never in the same room, he would just quietly watch from the doorway of the next room or outside. His avoidant and distant behavior did not help your budding feelings for him nor your desire to speak to him.

The other day, you were invited to dinner by Luda Mae and you offer to cook for them so you can bond over some good food. You spent most of the day repairing small bits of damage in the house, and making sure the pipes in the home had proper fittings. You took your time cooking large decadent dishes to impress the Hewitt's, mashed potatoes, fried asparagus, a hefty salad, and some finely glazed roast chicken with grilled corn. This food was the kind to make family out of friends and you were so excited to share it; the chocolate cake you baked the night before was ready to be frosted with your own recipe for vanilla icing.

Once the food was packed away in some bags, you got changed into a black summer dress that had a flower pattern in red, you put on a pair of red flats, some makeup, and a spritz of expensive perfume. The walk to the Hewitt house lasts only about ten minutes but the bags of food started to weigh you down and make you wish you had taken the car. When you reach the driveway, you have to set the bags down and take a rest. As you catch your breath and shake out your arms, you hear heavy foot steps coming towards you, when you look up you see Tommy, he looked different, he looked… good.

Despite still wearing the dark leather half-mask, you were actually able to see a lot of his face due to his hair being oiled back slick. His heaving chest was pressing against his black T-shirt that hugged his torso and really showed just how thick with muscle he was. He had new looking jean pants that clung to his thighs and a belt buckle that shone in the evening sky. His shoes were especially interesting, he had on a freshly shined pair of black snake skin cowboy boots tucked under his jean cuffs. You could not believe how well this massive recluse cleans up, and while he was still extremely intimidating, his fresh appearance was so overwhelming that you couldn’t speak.

He walks right up to you but doesn’t look you in the eye, he just takes your bags and stands behind you waiting for you to start walking to the door. His height was unlike anything you have ever seen, your head reached the base of his pecs. You were blushing so much, you could feel your cheeks flush with heat, you say to him,

“T-thank you”

He holds the heavy bags like they were nothing, his hands are huge and rough, his exposed arms were thick with muscle but riddled with scars that made you curious. He doesn’t say a word as you both walk up to the front door where he then opens it for you and waits for you to enter. Luda is already at the entrance wearing a pretty tea length dress in pastel blue, with yellow birds, her hair is in a pinned up-do, she greets you,

“Evenin’! I see Thomas helped you with your things, what a good boy he is”

You smile “Yeah, I’m glad he came to help honestly. I didn’t realize how tough it was going to be walking here with those bags being so heavy, I should have driven down haha”

Luda Mae takes your hand and leads you inside saying “Well come on in! Let’s get this stuff to the table so we can all eat, I’m sure you’re hungry”

You get to the table which is set nicely, the dishes seem to all be bone china with flowery designs along the outer edges, the large table is rustic and humble, but cozy. Luda Mae calls everyone to the table and tells you to sit at the end of the table, Charlie who is wearing a worn dress shirt that is too big for him and a red bowtie, attempts to sit next to you but Luda Mae snaps at him,

“NOT THERE CHARLIE, THAT’S TOMMYS SEAT!”

Charlie sighs and gets up; he looks at you,

“Oh, I see how it is” he gives you a wink.

Tommy comes in last and stands in the doorway, Luda Mae calls over to him,

“Come Thomas, you take your seat right next to Y/N”

He glances at you from under his brow and goes and sits in the chair next you making sure he is not touching you. He is such a big man that he is still towering over you even while sitting. Luda Mae takes her seat and says,

“Now then, let’s all say grace. Charlie, if you’ll do the honors”

Charlie rolls his eyes and starts “Dear lord, bless this here food, even though it ain’t like what were used to, bless it anyway”

Luda Mae scoffs adding “And bless Y/N for makin’ the effort to make us a lovely dinner tonight. Were eternally grateful for you bringin’ us Tilly, who bought them cows and chickens for us so we may absolve our sinful ways, amen”

You were feeling a bit confused at what she meant by ‘sinful ways’ but they all said amen so you just ignored it. The dinner started and everyone began to dig in to the dishes you prepared. Tommy waited until you took some food for yourself and then he started grabbing some scoops of the food to load onto his plate, Luda Mae sees this and says,

“Thomas is a big boy; he needs a lot of food to keep himself strong. I apologize if he seems greedy” she gave a serious look at Tommy who slowly put the mashed potato spoon down.

You feel a tinge of sadness at Luda Mae scolding Tommy, you reply,

“Oh no please, let’s eat as much as we can tonight so I don’t have to bring so much home. I made more than enough; I think”

Tommy glances at you, Luda Mae says “Well alright then Tommy, go ahead then, just make sure everyone else gets some”

Charlie laughs “Tommy boy eats more than the damn hogs do, I swear there’s nothin’ left when he’s near food, gotta eat quick!”

Luda Mae whacks Charlie’s shoulder for him to shut up but he just laughs, you giggle at the playful nature of this family and you feel comfortable around them, you feel a closeness to people that you hadn’t felt since the last time you saw your best friend. You can’t help but make quick glances at Tommy to be able to drink in his appearance for your memory to retrieve when you need it. You felt the nerves in your stomach tightening causing a slight cramp, you had a massive crush on Tommy and it was time to admit it to yourself. Tommy ate his food at a decent pace, each bite was small enough to fit through the slit in his mask; you still didn’t understand why he wore it but you were too afraid to ask in case it was something he was sensitive about.

Luda Mae see’s you watching Tommy and she smiles,

“We all made sure to look nice for you tonight, it’s a special occasion to have a guest cooking us dinner, right Charlie?”

He just nods and scarfs down the food on his plate, Luda Mae gives him a stern look but he doesn’t react, she continues,

“Thomas doesn’t have many clothes that fit him given that he’s such a big strong boy, but we were able to find some nice clothes in storage. What do you think Y/N? Does he look handsome?”

Tommy widens his eyes and looks over quickly at Luda Mae, trying to avoid eye contact with you.

“I think he looks amazing” you blurted out without even thinking, you felt embarrassed for not saying something less abrupt, -Oh god they probably think I’m desperate or something, why didn’t I just say he looks nice!?- Luda Mae smiled even bigger and Tommy quickly looked back at you in shock that anyone other than his mother would say something positive about him, especially about how he looked. Luda Mae looks at you and gives a cheeky smirk saying,

“I know Thomas thinks you look very beautiful tonight, don’t you Thomas?”

Tommy looked at Luda Mae and then quickly looked back at you, he was so flustered and you noticed the top of his cheeks that weren’t hidden by the mask began to flush with a rosy pink. Luda Mae continued,

“Well Thomas? Don’t be rude to our guest, you tell her she looks nice!”

You felt bad for Tommy who was put on the spot by Luda Mae’s question, you wished so badly to hear the answer but Tommy just looked down at his plate with wide eyes and blushing cheeks. You smiled at the sight of such a large grown man reacting like an embarrassed teen, you could almost hear the squeal of protest ‘Mom! You’re embarrassing me!’. You giggled to yourself, this was the most fun you had had with people in ages, you were so lonely back in Rivers Manitoba that even the rare relationship you got into would fizzle out so quickly from them being abusive or losing interest. You felt safe with the Hewitts, even if the things Dover said to you were true about them, you didn’t care, you wanted to be part of a family, this family.

Eventually dinner finished and the cake was brought out by Luda Mae, she cut some large slices for everyone and when she took the first bite her eyes widened and she said,

“My, you’re an incredible cook Y/N. This is the best darn thing I have ever eaten since my mama’s banana cream pie”

Charlie took a bite and slammed the table, which startled you and made Tommy give him an angry look, he said,

“WHEW GIRLIE, THIS IS SINFUL!”

Tommy looked at his slice and took a small piece on his fork and bit into it, his eyes closed and he let out a deep breath through his nose as he leaned his head back allowing you to see just how thick his neck was. There was some stubble peeking through from under his mask and it made your heart flutter, this was a fully-grown, red-blooded man, and you had a flash of an intrusive thought fly through your mind of him leaning his head back from a different kind of pleasure; you shook your head and looked away, trying to suppress a smirk that was trying to creep its way onto your face. Luda Mae looks over at you and asks,

“Are you alright dear?”

You snap back into reality and reply “Yes, sorry I just got… dizzy, must be from all the good food”

Luda Mae is looking a bit concerned,

“Let me get you some more water sweetheart, maybe you are just hot”

You feel a sense of embarrassment at the passing thought you had, it was really unlike you to be so turned on by a man, but Tommy was no ordinary man and he was bringing out feelings in you that you never knew you had. Luda Mae comes back with some ice water and gently places a hand on your shoulder, and pours some water in the glass in front of you. This woman was so motherly to you, the month that went by just reinforced these feelings as every time you met up with her, she was always concerned with how you were doing and trying to get you to rest or talk about deep feelings, she was a large comfort to you.

The night finally concluded after so much laughter and conversation between you, Luda Mae, and Charlie. Tommy had gotten up after cake and left the table before the night was over which made you feel a bit anxious that he was uncomfortable but you had fun despite the anxiety. When you got your things and placed them back in the bags, you said goodnight to Charlie as Luda Mae walked you out saying,

“Don’t let Dover bug you anymore ok hun? He used to make Tilly so upset but eventually he left her alone once she got close with us, I reckon he will do the same with you once he realizes who you’re friendly with. If you feel scared walking back, have Thomas, take you, he is in the barn there”

You thank her and say goodbye, maybe getting Tommy to walk you back would be a good idea so Dover would stop popping out of bushes to tell you how stupid he thinks you are and how badly he wants you to leave. You make your way down to the barn and see Tommy sitting on a bale of hay staring out the open barn doors, the bright shine of the moon casting a silver light on him. You walk up to him and say,

“Hey, Thomas, would you please walk me back to my house? I don’t want to deal with Dover harassing me.”

You see him look over at you and he nods slowly, getting up and moving over to face you, his hand held out to signal you to give him your bags so he could carry them for you. He waited to let you walk in front of him but you didn’t move, you spoke,

“Can…I walk next to you?”

Tommy looked surprised but he nodded and followed next to you out of the barn, you both made your way to the road, he was making sure to keep your pace so he didn’t get ahead of you. The sky had thick dark clouds rolling through it but the moon held its bright glare, coating you both with a cold light, you looked up at Tommy who was remaining silent as he walked next to you, his brows were relaxed and his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead of him. You felt so safe with him, he was like a large guard dog, keeping watch of your surroundings and staying close to you, ensuring that he keeps his pace in line with yours.

You smile, the fact that you were alone with him was exciting, you wish you were able to say something but you couldn’t find the words. Just as you were giving thought to something to say, he looks down at you and catches you smiling at him. He looks at you confused, why would anyone smile at the likes of him? His whole life he was ridiculed and made fun of for his appearance, a girl never gave him even a glance and the ones he liked screamed when he came near them. You were different, you were beautiful and kind, and you smiled at him, no screaming or running away, he felt good being around you, he felt safe with you, but this was a different kind of safe to the one you felt, this was trust.

You both got to your driveway and he walked you up to the door, setting your bags down, you turned to him and said,

“I really appreciate you walking me to my home Thomas, you’re a really nice man”

Tommy’s eyes met yours and he nodded, you went to pick up your bags but stopped when you saw him pointing at you,

“Yes?”

He continues to point at you, you try to look around if there’s a stain or bug but he just goes and reaches for the dress fabric on your shoulder and points at that, you smile and reply,

“Oh, my dress! You never told me if you liked it”

He nods and gives a thumbs up, you laugh and thank him. You grab your bag and make your way inside, turning to give him one last look and say,

“Goodnight Thomas, I hope we get to spend more time together soon”

You gently shut the door and Tommy turns to leave, his cheeks are warm and his eyes wide; You, a beautiful woman, want to spend time with a monster like him? The things he has done in the past for his family were evil, his past was stained forever with the blood of the many victims taken by his hands. He tried to push down his budding feelings because he knew deep down that an innocent angel like you would never accept his sins. The walk back to his home was full of mixed emotions, he was scared to get closer to you in case you find out about his past and react like the girls from his past would, screaming at him in horror and fear. He couldn’t help but have hope though, you were after all, different.

Next chapter-

[cevansbaby-dove]

Please be careful, A one shot story

A love story of Angel Myers and Jordan Banks.

Think of this as a crossover of Girl Meets World And The Longest Ride! Enjoy :)

That night wasn't what I thought it would be. My friend and I went to a rodeo and saw an old friend of mine bull ride which scared me so much that I couldn't watch him get hurt or even worse...Killed.

Jordan and I have been friends since high school and we got close as friends but then he left for Texas and I left for New York to work on my art job.

We didn't talk for ten years until Allie, my friend told me about a rodeo he was in and said maybe we should go and see him.

That night wasn't what I thought it would be. Allie and Kyle (her bf) and I went to a rodeo and saw Jordan bull ride.

I gasp seeing him get trampled by the bull after he fell off.

After the rodeo all four of us went into the woods for a camp fire and s'mores. man it was fun but, I kept glancing at Jordan I need to say something to him about this....so I do.

I stand up and say to him. "Jordan Your a mad man! Do you think I like it when I hear or even see you on that stupid bull just for some award!?"

My friend Allie looks at me and him fighting. "Angel Your thinking to much into this! it's just-"

"just what!? tell me just what! Dumb!?" I fold my arms and Allie stands up. "Kyle we should them some space"

Our friend Kyle stands up. "ice cream is calling our names" She flashes me a smile and says "We'll come back later"

They walk away and I sit on the log looking into the fire and Jordan says. "Angel I'm sorry if what I did upset you...I just wanted you to like me"

I look at him. "You don't have to almost die for me to like you Jordan!" I stand up and say. "You don't have to be rich or own a ranch or be the smartest person in our high school years for me to like you! All you have to do is be you...be cowboy be....yourself"

He nods. "your right" I scoff. "that's it!? I'm right? my god" I turn around and Jordan stands up. "you and I go way back and that moment I walked out your life....was the hardest thing I had to do but guess what, your here now and I....I won't leave you like I did back then"

*Flashback*

"Your moving?" I said looking at Jordan in my bedroom. "Why the hell would you do that?" "why would you tell me about New York!?"

I scoff. "it's my life Jordan!" "Well then you know my reason then too, I'm sorry Angel I really am I but....I want to go back home" I blink away the tears in my eyes and look away. "then leave me already"

"An-" "I said leave!" I look at him and point at the door. "Go to your new home Jordan! Please!" I can see the hurt in his eyes but I am so mad I don't care how he feels.

End of Flashback.

"Angel did you hear me?" I nod. "yes I did but that doesn't change this whole thing! You are so dumb Jordan Banks that you would do all this for me!?"

I am so close to his face he lightly grabs my cheeks and leans to me. "In a heartbeat"

I stare at him with my mouth slightly apart. "Why would you do that?" he let's go of me and says. "That was the only thing I could think of that would make you stop"

I take a step back and sit back down and look at the sky. "it's nice out tonight"

Jordan sits by me and says. "Who needs the stars when I can look at you?" I glance at him. "Stop it" "Stop what?"

"everything, you, me all of this mess we have and I don't want to think of us this way"

"So there is an Us uh?" Jordan said smirking at me. I smile lightly. "We have always been great friends, if we become more...I don't know, I think it'll be bad for both of us."

Jordan sighs. "Right sorry"

"Can we just not talk please?" I look at my lap and Jordan nods. "Sure" We don't say anything more just the sound of the nature talks around us.

tags:@bookishtheaterlover7 @cutedisneygrl (thanks for the help bff love you always!) @angelbabyyy99 @entertainmentgirl80 @nicoline1998enilocin

[heedmywarnings]

My dear creation

(Wow new sagau fic)

The ignorance never bothered you, your family members neglected you. You were merely a black lamb in a crowd of white sheeps. You are the shadow of what light your family illuminates in their grace.

You grew up fast, you were just two hundred years old when you mastered the Art of Creation, five hundred thirty when you learned to conduct Celestial magic. You were a child, but to mortals you are a God.

One fateful day, you enjoyed the ambiance of your little room 'till someone knocked at your door, "Come in" you said, curious to might who was the first person in your life to knock at your door.

It was your sister. During the creation of a new world, the Gods and people rebelled against her cruel tyranny. It was too perfect for your sister to throw away so she gave it to you, wondering hoe messed up you could make the world in its already messed up state.

Oh how ecstatic you were, you asked your sister if she wa serious for maybe twenty times before she dismissed herself, unable to hold the urge to roll her eyes at you. But you didn't care.

You descended to the world to that was give to you, and oh dear... it was bad. Fires, chaos, and blood. Mortals and Gods fighting for the throne all stopped when they saw your light radiate throughout the entirety of Teyvat, this wasn't the cruel light your sister raided, instead, a warm and gentle light caressed their faces.

They quickly deduced, a God, not their creator, but a God who they can truly devote themselves to has descended onto the grounds of Teyvat. But you were a bit late, seven Gods had already made their seat on the throne. Fighting for a seat to be an Archon, how interesting.

Regardless of the brutal ending of a war you had just witnessed, you had assisted the people of Teyvat rebuild their homes. Small hust turned to small villages, to larger villages, and to a city. Which brings modern Teyvat.

Watching from afar, it excites you knowing that this was your doing. Teyvat continues to prosper, Fontaine creates gadgets and wares that would spread across the nations.

You were sitting on a little hill watching the seven nations strive, when suddenly two golden stars lit the night sky, it glided past you, taking your attention away from the cities.

Oh how it piqued your curiosity, what is a falling star doing in Teyvat? Maybe it's the first time you saw one, but a golden one? And theirs two as well. Eh, maybe it's just a rare occurrence, later on, you hoped that you checked it out sooner.

"The God.. took away my sister" you heard Aether say, though you are not there physically, you embraced Aether from the back, your warming precense making Aether curios of the sudden change of temperature, but it was not an unwelcome feeling. He hopes that this feeling will stay with him to the stary and to the end of his journey.

Author's note

Ujsushsh, sorry for not posting part eight of my other sagau series, I've been braindead and writing what my brain thought of to post on Tumblr. I only have a few days left 'till I have f2f class, and I am not mentally prepared D: (quite literally forgot the multiplication table, division, fraction and all sorts of the math concepts) I'll try to stay updated as much as you can and your comments never fail to put a smile on my face ;)

10/25/22 update

Why the fuck do I have one tag in this post💀

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenever the Day of the Week!

So last week I finished two renders Woo! This week we have two new arts that I'm starting (4 technically but you know, just sharing the personal work) and some writing (I did share this to discord but I'll throw this in here too). Tagged by @paraparadigm @mareenavee and @friend-of-giants

If you wanna do it too then go ahead! Everyone's already shared by the time I get to mine (14 hours ahead, 24 behind XD).

Art First!

Relates to the fic I guess. It's fun, I draw birds! There's a time difference!

The rest is under the cut!

Now for writing.

So I power smashed out a chunk of a chapter from Teldryn's POV yesterday. He's waiting and he's bored and he's in his head, so is someone else. Some of you have already seen it, and some not. There's a fight scene that I'm, in the middle of which I'm not ready to show yet but have this.

The bastards took his keys. Both of them, right from his pack. The bastards just kept coming. The last two weeks had been truly unrelenting. He’d hit Sigrun’s men at the barrow, then near the Telvanni stronghold, some even managed to make it as far south as Fort Frostmoth after that woman from the Netch had cleared the entire place of ash spawn and undead. All by herself too, not a single guard had accompanied her according to Geldis. Though Teldryn was certain the old fool was exaggerating, that place was infested with those disgusting things. They regularly assaulted the Bulwark, each attack taking out more of Veleth’s guardsmen. Teldryn smiled to himself, he had his opinions on their competence, and it wasn’t flattering.  He’d told Veleth as much during the last assault and was once again met with the old guard captain’s gruff indifference.

So, she was better than a few guards? Who cares? He did, apparently. He’d been ruminating over their encounter for the last two weeks. He had made an utter fool of himself, completely blew it. Fuck! He actually stole from her! And he didn’t regret it either, she had good shit. Besides, he needed it more than she did… not to mention he was certain she was after him, the whole situation just didn’t add up. Gods, why was he thinking about this? Why did he care?

He fiddled with one of his rings under his gauntlet. The one with the misspelled engraving that he never bothered to have fixed and felt sick to his stomach. Guilty, he still felt guilty after all these years. He wanted to drown that feeling out again, but he couldn’t. Not yet, not when he was supposed to be watching the shore for more of Sigrun’s goons.

He was distracted again, he was always distracted. He wanted to pace, scratch at something, anything to get his mind off of him. Two hundred years and the pain still felt so raw. Does it ever end? He started fiddling with a loose thread on his scarf, unravelling it until a new hole was created. He’d fix it later if he remembered. Probably not. By Azura was he bored! The bastard said that his companions had set up again by Bloodskal Barrow again, but they weren’t there! He wanted that lizard that took his keys! By Boethiah he wanted his head on the end of his sword! His gauntlet caught alight; he was getting angry again. Good. Good. It was better than his perpetual wallowing. He was productive when he was mad, could get shit done! He threw the fireball that had formed at the ashen sand, it solidified under the intense heat. The cracking sound was awful but it was something.

He can’t sit still. His head felt itchy, and he ran a gauntleted hand through his hair. He needed to cut it, or at least shave the sides down again. He didn’t have his things. He needed his things!

Fuck where were they? Teldryn lay back hard, causing a small bloom of ash to raise around him. His hair fell in his eyes and he lazily brushed it aside. He stared up at the sky, it was now well past sundown, an aurora danced above, its green and violet symphony drowning out the stars. It was almost romantic if he would allow himself to think of such things. A bad idea.

So he tried to clear his mind and concentrated on the light lapping of waves on the shore. Those distant groans of netches further down the beach, the soft sound of booted footprints in the ashen sands.

Teldryn sat up to get a better look around, he could make out a figure about half a klick downwind of his position. Bonemold, one of Veleth’s boys on patrol? No, he’s too far away from town. He watched the lone guard as he sauntered along the shore. The guard sat on a log, his back facing Teldryn and pulled something out of a small sack that he couldn’t quite see. Food? Most likely. Teldryn felt his stomach growl and he fell back onto the sand. He’d forgotten to eat today, didn’t he? It was a habit he’d developed a long time ago. Easy when everything tastes like the ash of Red Mountain was swirled in a salty brine. It no longer brought him any joy. Still, his mouth watered. If those bastards didn’t show up soon he’d have to go bother Geldis again. He was out of food, he’d been out of sujamma for days as well. Gods was he craving that! Anything that could drown him out really. His fingertips itched and he pulled off his gauntlet with his teeth. It was that fucking ring again! It was too tight. It was never meant for him. It was his. He couldn’t get rid of it! By Azura had he tried, it was a part of him now. He should never have put it on! He held the ornate shape of it between his front teeth and gave it a light tug, relieving some of the pressure.

“Stop it!” “No, you parasitic fuck!” Teldryn growled under his breath. He tugged again. “That won’t work.” “Try me!” he growled, yanking at it harder this time. The force hurt his teeth. “Quit your incessant whining and listen.”

Teldryn stopped for a moment and listened. Chattering, no, no yelling! He glanced over towards the spot that guard should have been. He was on the ground, surrounded by three heavily armoured  Nords, one pulling the sword from the guard’s back, but was unable to make it budge. Teldryn snorted, idiots. You stick a sword in that part of the armour and you’ll lose it. It was a quirk of design that he never quite understood, though it had been explained to him often enough.

“To your right.” Teldryn moved his gaze away from the guard and towards the Barrow. A boat and several more armoured men hauling gear out of it.

Oh, it’s on!

Teldryn grinned wickedly and sprang to his feet. He pulled his discarded gauntlet back on and threw on his helmet, scarf and goggles hastily, he was itching for another fight!

[zeegeetee]

I posted 5,082 times in 2022

91 posts created (2%)

4,991 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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@misscrazyfangirl321

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I tagged 4,200 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#sky - 752 posts

#clouds - 603 posts

#trees - 572 posts

#pictures - 494 posts

#gifs - 404 posts

#dark - 384 posts

#water - 373 posts

#books - 334 posts

#quotes - 317 posts

#mountains - 313 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#my mother convinced me to watch the first episode with her and i did like it but she started watching it with my dad instead

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So... I know it's been a million years since I've watched Highlander the Series, and I'm over it by now but I have to go into detail about what nonsense the two part finale was. This is about how ooc and absurd everyone was in Duncan's deadish fantasy so I will try not to drag him too much unnecessarily.

Let's start with Amanda, there is a big difference between a thief and a serial murderer. If she had not met Duncan and fallen in "love" with him would she have married a lot of rich men and stolen their money? Sure, why not. Would she have killed them? Not likely and the idea that Duncan singlehandedly saved her from being entirely evil is gross

Joe Dawson, you expect me to believe this man was so inspired by Duncan of all people/immortals that he just did not let the trauma of war effect him? If he never had the opportunity to stalk Duncan he would be homeless and an alcoholic? Ridiculous

Methos, now this guy used to be the absolute worst, the scum of the earth just for fun and to feel powerful, he changed, renounced violence and decided to live life hiding and minding his own business (note that realistically this change didn't happen over night, it took years of diligent hard work) and he did all of this without Duncan's influence. He is a thousand years old he knows that people die, he has been dealing with it for many lifetimes. Would he be so upset over the betrayal and death of his girlfriend that he just reverts back to being the worst? No. When his old friend with whom he used to commit atrocities found him and wanted to get back to it, would he just go along with it because he couldn't manipulate Duncan into killing him for him? No, he would fight and die trying or again run and hide, both of those outcomes would be more likely

Richie Ryan, his story almost made sense, I could buy that he with no other options continued his life of crime, got caught, ran, and died young without Duncan's influence. He could have become immortal and had to run from a bunch of bad guy immortals trying to kill him (but how likely is it really that no other decent immortal would see this poor young man, clueless and struggling and want to take him under their wing? as so many other immortals did for all of the other immortals in the show?) until he was taken in by some "nice" bad guy immortals (not Methos, as we've already established) and been further corrupted. the "nice" bad guy immortals could have asked him to kill an innocent person for their own agenda and Richie Might try but wouldn't be able to go through with it, however though Richie was a bit trusting and naive, he was not an idiot and would not have gone back to the "nice" bad guys after failing to fullfil such a request, he would have run again and if he had to have died again anyway (nonsense) they could have found and killed him later (no)

Tessa, don't even get me started on the horrible, gross, entirely appalling implication that it was better for her to have died young and having been loved by Duncan than to have gotten married and had children and lived because her husband was mean and she stopped making art (it was stated clearly and more than once she wanted children but gave up that dream for Duncan)

12 notes - Posted December 1, 2022

#4

Remember at the end of season six when Stefan and Elena were being absolute clowns saying Damon couldn't just choose to live a human life for Elena, like he's not the same guy that literally only became a vampire for Katherine?

13 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

#3

It's funny how quickly a cheating plot can make me drop a ship

23 notes - Posted September 14, 2022

#2

Five be like "You can cause an apocalypse and destroy the world twice but I draw the line at you lying to me"

25 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I'm fairly convinced My Chemical Romance just got back together so Gerard Way could play dress up

51 notes - Posted September 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

[strawwritesfic]

Bucky Barnes x Female!Super Soldier!Reader: It’s a Small World After All

Summary: “All hope abandon, ye who enter here.” –The Divine Comedy

Request: Bucky rescues a female super soldier that he trained for Hydra.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (bad language, references to torture; references to brainwashing and mind control; Steve & Natasha & Bucky friendship; set post-Captain America: Civil War; not Infinity War compliant)

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

It’s a Small World After All

The world had been so small when Bucky Barnes had been a child. His life formed a well-worn path between his family home, his school, and his best friend’s apartment. Moving between these locations had been as easy and as natural to him as breathing. He considered only passingly the possibility of seeing more of the world—until that small world grew larger for him and that breathing got a lot less easy.

Why had it been that he had thrown himself into that new open space? Had it been patriotism? Belief in the cause? Or some long-buried, selfish feeling that he deserved to know more than late hours working at the docks to ensure Steve would have medicine and art supplies in the coming days?

The latter had been true, Bucky decided decades later, because punishment followed swiftly and extensively. His choice cracked the world open like an egg. He felt every continent beneath his own two feet; many countries felt his impact even if no one there spotted him. Though the earth was huge, he was a big part of it.

That was what they had told him, at any rate. Now he knew the truth: The world was small and he was smaller still. Countless countries. Innumerable gunshots. And yet he found himself back at the very beginning, back where it all started, back at the very gates of his own personal hell.

“I guess Dante was right about one thing,” remarked the woman at his shoulder.

Natasha Romanoff’s already diminutive stature looked all the tinier swallowed up in winter gear. The few visible strands of her hair looked like bright bleeding cuts against her pale face, so great was the contrast between that and the snow-patterned camouflage that covered her from head to foot. White flakes of snow clung to her long, upswept eyelashes, and every breath she exhaled released a small cloud of moisture toward the stark white sky. She was cold—and yet, despite being much less dressed for the weather, Bucky felt nothing at all. No cold. No nerves. Just a dead resignation deep within his tired bones.

“You don’t have to go in there,” she added at his silence. “We can take care of it from here.”

Before Bucky could so much as open his mouth to reply, a large hand covered his shoulder and drew him up short.

“No, we can’t,” said the owner of the hand.

Steve Rogers shot Bucky what was almost a familiar smile, but far too small and grim to ring any of the bells in the latter’s shoddy memory. He’d already slipped into Captain America-mode. Bucky would have expected that to take a little longer since Steve, too, had forgone his usual lurid costume for something a little warmer. Still, it was enough. Maybe it didn’t remind Bucky of their childhood; it still reminded him of following Steve through Purgatory. It also reminded him he couldn’t just stand there staring into the distance all day.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said at last, shifting his shoulder just enough to get Steve to drop his hand. Good as it felt, Bucky worried that an anchor would only hold him back.

Steve understood, or Bucky assumed he did. He thought he saw the start of a real smile on Steve’s face, but then Bucky’s eyes fell again on the entrance to the low metal building that sat half-hidden in ice far ahead. Bucky had gone inside there once—and he’d never really come back out.

“If you’re not ready, we can come back tomorrow,” Steve said.

“No. Too much time’s already been wasted looking for this damn place. If they have any idea we’re around, they’ll pack up and we’ll have to start over from scratch. We might already not have got here in time.”

“It’s not your fault they wiped your memory of this location before bringing you stateside,” Natasha said sympathetically.

Wasn’t it? Bucky felt it must have been. All of this information had been inside his head the entire time. Shuri should not have had to shake so hard to pry it loose, especially since she hadn’t liked shaking so hard to begin with. If he had wanted it badly enough, surely he could have spared her the pain. He should have known they’d bring him back here somehow.

Natasha touched him on his flesh hand. “You don’t have to do this, Jim.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Jim—”

“He knows the risks, Nat,” Steve broke in.

“I’m not concerned about you getting hurt. You going back in there…I wouldn’t go back inside Red Room for something like this.”

“Sure you would, if it was Clint or Steve or Sam in there. Or me.” Bucky forced a smile. “It won’t work without me there, Talia. You know that.”

She turned to Steve imploringly. “Steve, you can’t honestly tell me you’re okay with this.”

“It’s not my favorite idea Buck’s ever had,” Steve confessed, “but if there’s even a chance he’s right, we’ve got to do this. And he has to be here. She’s not going to come with either of us.”

The nod Steve and Bucky shared seemed enough to get Natasha to drop the subject. Bucky knew she wasn’t really convinced, but she was outnumbered. Considering that every minute they spent arguing was a minute she had to remain outside in the cold, outnumbered might convince her to do something she otherwise wouldn’t.

“What’s our plan, then?” Natasha asked.

“No one’s come out to greet us yet. You think they know we’re here?” said Steve.

They both looked at Bucky as though they expected him to lead—not only to lead but to remember. Even his recovered memories remained coated in a haze of drugs and electricity and madness. To ask him to know where to go inside that building seemed ludicrous to him. To ask that he take charge seemed more ludicrous still. He was not a leader. Following defined his life.

For the first time that he could remember, he felt a stirring of nerves deep inside the pit of his stomach. Whether or not he could lead was irrelevant. Unless he wanted to spend all his life herding goats on the outskirts of Wakanda, he had to prove that he was capable of more. This was his first mission since the terrible fight with Tony Stark, and Bucky’s first personal mission since the same. Much more remained at stake than his future occupation.

“I’m headed to the back,” he said at last, “as deep and as far as I can go. Alone.”

He paused to allow either of his companions to interrupt. Neither did.

“It’s an old base. I have no recollection of being here after the first few years. They’ve probably retreated to this place after the Avengers destroyed so many of the others. There might be some defensive wards in place, but they’re likely to be minimum if the people here have bothered to update them at all.”

“Any Enhanced?” asked Steve.

“Other than her?” Bucky shrugged.

Not for the first time, he realized how blind he really was going into this. Time was of the essence. He had rushed not only himself, but Shuri and Steve and Natasha and Sam as well. If any of them died because Bucky wanted to chase ghosts…

Again Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve faced unexpected Enhanced before. This base is too small for us to be overwhelmed. Natasha and I will make sure you can get where you need to go, whatever happens.”

“That’s all I need.”

There was no more procrastinating to be done. All those nerves Bucky had felt earlier crawled across his skin; he felt like he might scratch himself to ribbons if he stood there a second longer. He took his first step forward. Then another. Then another.

“What do we do if we find that chair?” Natasha called after him.

“Do me a favor.” Bucky cocked his gun. “Break it to bits.”

The snow swallowed him up shortly after. Nothing remained in the world except for Bucky and the dark shape in the distance toward which he trudged. No sound cracked the muffled quiet that descended upon him, save for his steady breathing and the vague pounding of his own heart inside his ears. How often had this fog of nothingness surrounded him before? Screaming, followed by silence, followed by blood—an easy, endless loop.

Bucky shook his head to dislodge his fuzzy thoughts. He was not falling back; he was moving forward. There was a marked difference between being dragged into Hell and storming its gates. Natasha and Steve would not be far behind. They were only waiting just outside of the range of any possible thermal imaging cameras Hydra might have until Bucky’s arrival distracted any waiting agents. That meant that he was not really entering this pit alone. Nothing was going to happen to him. More importantly, nothing was going to you. Not ever again. Not if he could help it.

His forceful thinking got him to the doors much sooner than he anticipated. Two smooth sheets of metal loomed suddenly before him. He hesitated. Shouldn’t someone have made a move to stop him from getting this close without being incapacitated in some way? Sam had confirmed with a flyover that very morning that there were multiple heat signatures inside.

No. They knew he was out there. Why they were waiting, he did not know. Perhaps they were frightened. Perhaps they were preparing to shoot him the moment he tore the place open. The reason didn’t matter. Bucky lifted his metal hand, preparing to wrench the doors apart, then—

—they opened up all their own, smoothly, quickly, with no squeal of rust. White light spilled forth from the opening, blinding Bucky long enough for someone to say:

“My boy. You’ve come home.”

Whoever spoke was little more than a black shape to Bucky’s still-adjusting eyes, but they were stooped and their arms did not appear angled correctly. The voice, though—Bucky knew the voice, old and wispy though it might have been. It was this familiarity that caused him to obey when the voice went on:

“Come in, come in from the cold. Let me take a look at you. It’s been a long time.”

In Bucky went. His feet had crossed this same threshold dozens of times. They could do so again a dozen times more. A stillborn scream froze inside his throat as the doors slid shut behind him. At that exact same moment, a set of clammy, gnarled fingers snatched his chin and guided his head from side to side.

“Hmm. I see no cause for concern. It seems they’ve kept you mostly intact.”

Bucky snapped back into himself. He wrenched his face from the old man’s grasp, stepped back, and held his gun at the ready. The face above those wrinkled hands did not connect with anything in Bucky’s admittedly unreliable memory, even now that he could see it. All he could say for sure was that looking into the deep-set, milky eyes in that pale face caused a feeling of immense gratification to surge within him—only to be crushed at once by the strongest sense of disgust Bucky had ever felt.

The eyes narrowed on the barrel of Bucky’s M249 SAW. “Did you come here to kill me, James?” the man asked.

That there had to be a pause between the question and his answer at all shamed Bucky greatly, but his voice was firm when that answered did come: “If that’s what it takes.”

A flurry of movement in the room beyond revealed several other people to be inside with them. Men and women, all in Hydra uniforms, rose behind the old man with weapons drawn. Bucky could spare each person only a quick glance, but that was enough to confirm that none of them were you. He relaxed, but only a little.

“Sit back down, all of you,” snapped the man. None of them did. He returned his attention to Bucky nonetheless. “If that’s what it takes to do what?”

“Where is she?” Bucky demanded.

“She? Who is she?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. She wasn’t at the Siberian facility, so I know you must have moved her. Where is [Name]?”

“You assume too much. She always was the inferior model. What would we want with her now, when we’ve spent all this time waiting for you?”

“You assume too much.” The man didn’t even flinch when Bucky stepped forward with his teeth grit. “All the rest of them got a bullet to the head. I can think of lots of reasons you’d want to pull her all the way out here.”

A frown further creased the man’s face as tutted. “Thinking again, James? That must hurt. If you’ll only come with me—”

“Don’t touch me.” Bucky hit the man’s reaching hand away with as much as force as he could muster. “Tell me where you’re keeping her or I’ll blow your head off. You know I’m capable of it.”

“Not anymore. Not after you’ve let the outside world corrupt you. You used to be perfect. Didn’t you come here because you want to be made perfect again?”

“I came back for [Name]. Nothing else.”

“If you return to your chair willingly, I’ll give her to you. You can do whatever you want with her. No one will tell you otherwise this time.”

His flesh finger looped around the trigger on his gun. Probably the man was right: Bucky’s time with kind people—people like Steve, Sam, Natasha, Shuri, and T’Challa—had made him unwilling to kill another human being. But it wasn’t just that. Bucky had been a soldier long, long before HYDRA got their claws into him, but he had never been a killer. Now that he was free, he chose not to be a killer again. These people didn’t need to know that.

The old man seemed to sense Bucky’s reluctance anyway. He sighed, shaking his wizened head. “I had hoped you’d come here because you wanted to. You know the procedure works better when you aren’t fighting it. Have it your way.”

A single gesture from him had the rest of the Hydra agents cocking their own weapons and training them directly on Bucky. Before a single shot could be fired on either side, the doors behind him burst open. Steve’s shield caught the old man on the shoulder after Bucky threw himself to the side to avoid the projectile. In the resulting chaos, a grenade rolled into the room. He recognized it at once as a flash grenade and squeezed his eyes shut as he dove behind the nearest table.

“He didn’t come alone! Get them!” the old man shrieked.

Bullets whizzed through the air. The ones coming from one side of the room ricocheted with resounding clangs off Steve’s shield; those from the other hit their mark and forced whoever Natasha struck to the ground. Bucky stayed where he was, unable to find enough time between shots fired to force his way through.

Then Natasha materialized at his elbow. “Sam says there’s a heat signature by itself at the very back. Go. Steve and I will make sure that no one follows you.”

That was all the incentive that he needed. He nodded once, then rolled out into the open just long enough to throw himself down the dark maw leading deeper into the facility.

No lights remained there; those that still hung from the ceiling had burnt out years ago and were burnt out still. Blackness pressed tangibly against Bucky’s eyes, but he kept going, trusting his subconscious to keep his feet going down the right paths. He forced himself to not look from side to side. There were monsters much worse than the old man lurking in the shadows, if he would only look at and remember them.

He wasn’t going to let them coalesce—not inside the vacant cells he knew he was running past, not inside the chambers covered in blood that never quite came off, not inside the laboratories built so far underground that no screaming could be heard coming from inside them. Bucky wasn’t going to let the ghosts of his past stop him from reaching his goal. The agents spilling from doors beyond his vision weren’t going to stop him either. They fell before him, hit with his SAW or his metal arm, and did not get up again.

Farther he went, and deeper. His skin crawled at the thought of being so far from even the cloud-veiled sun above. Heavy breaths issued from his mouth as he tried to keep his mind from thoughts of being buried alive—figuratively and literally. Natasha and Steve would come for him if he did not resurface in time. Until then, Bucky had a job to do. He swallowed the taste of fear off his tongue.

“[Name]!” He could hold back no longer. Your name burst from his mouth and echoed back to him from the empty stone walls surrounding him. Here. You had to be here, yet he could find no sign of you.

“Bucky?”

The voice was so quiet that it might have been his boot scuffling against the floor. Only his automatic twisting in the direction from which the word issued allowed him to see the ghastly apparition beyond the rusted bars of a cell he’d run straight past only seconds before.

He could not quite fit the face with image from his dreams, but it was you. It could be no one else. Bucky’s lips quirked into an eager smile as he jogged back the direction he had come from, swinging his gun into place on his back as he went.

“[Name], I—” he began, but cut off once he got a better look at you.

Your eyes, dark and huge in a gaunt face, glittered faintly as you eyed him in return. Thin, bony fingers wrapped tightly around the bars.

“[Name].”

Your name was almost a prayer in that moment. Whatever you looked like, whatever reason they had to bring you back to this godforsaken place, he had not imagined you, not come here on some buried trigger Shuri hadn’t fished out, not made up a story about a girl he loved just to lead his friends to being shot in the middle of a barren wasteland. No, you were real. No amount of brainwashing could have convinced him to smell the terrible stench wafting from your emaciated body.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said as he headed for the lock.

You didn’t move. Your eyes seemed riveted to his face. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing? I came here to see you.”

His half-exasperated words had the exact opposite effect on you than he had expected. You did not look relieved, joyous, or even hopeful. Instead, what little color remained in your [skin tone] face drained away. Several ragged breaths tore from your thin, trembling lips; your legs quavered beneath you, only held up by the vice-like grip you had on the bars between the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Sorry?” Still lightheaded from seeing you outside his dreams for the first time since he’d fallen into to the Potomac, he couldn’t entirely suppress a hoarse chuckle. “What’re you sorry for?”

“Everything. Running away. Letting them take me. Letting them take you. Helping them—”

“You couldn’t help it.”

“Because I finally gave in.”

A hiccup interrupted the last two words. Bucky suspected that if you weren’t so badly dehydrated, you would have cried. He wished he’d thought to pack water—but Sam would have some waiting. Sam was always good at anticipating what people would need. Unfortunately, you would need a lot. Super Soldier Serum or not, that you remained standing in your present condition was a miracle.

Very slowly, he reached his flesh hand inside your cell to touch your cheek. “How long have they kept you down here?”

It wasn’t exactly fair of him to ask. Once upon a time, Hydra’s success with the Winter Soldier spurred them on to other projects. They thought of more Soldiers, enough to carry on a war. Not every single one that came after Bucky had been a volunteer. So you were born, programmed. He only hoped that enough time had passed that you were no longer conditioned to answer him. That you recognized him and had not flinched away from his touch gave him some hope of that. Still it took you some time to reply:

“Since…since INSIGHT failed. You didn’t come back after the helicarriers went down. So they—retrieved me.”

“That was almost three years ago!”

“Was it? They must come down here and feed me more often than I notice.”

Bucky didn’t crack a smile at your attempt at a joke. Nausea bubbled in the pit of his stomach. Three years you’d been down here while he ate plums and visited museums. He didn’t care if he had only just really remembered you. If he had cared—if he had really cared—he would have remembered you sooner.

“Don’t look like that.” A weak smile pulled up the corners of your mouth. “They thought you’d come back for me eventually, even when I told them the last handlers wiped your memory of our lessons from you. I was their last hope. But I’m glad, Bucky. I’m glad you were able to get away from them. I’m glad you didn’t come back for me. Maybe we’ll end up in the same place, after you die, and I can apologize for real.”

The nausea froze like ice. Not only had you been stuck down here alone for three years, you were so hungry and so tired that you thought he wasn’t real now that he was really there. Hallucinations were not uncommon in HYDRA’s Soldiers—it was hard to say whether they came from the serum or the torture—but he had never known you to have one. He himself had dreamed of Steve—or the Commandos, or you, or even Peggy Carter—arriving to rescue him, even after the pain had seared the knowledge of who those people were from his mind. He had felt them, too, heard them. They all disappeared before they could be of any help. Bucky was not going to disappear, but how could he convince you of that?

He did the only thing none of the people in his deranged imaginings had thought to do: He kissed you.

As far as reunion kisses went, it was not some sweeping, grandiose thing out of the pictures Steve and Bucky would watch at the movie theater just to get out of their crummy apartment for a little while. He could only get his mouth so far through the rust-flaking bars. You must have been startled, because you didn’t move forward to make his reaching any easier…but you didn’t back away either. Your lips were cold, and so chapped that Bucky felt the peeling skin cut into his own lips. A sickly sweet taste covered his tongue: the familiar ooze of rotting teeth.

He didn’t care. He would have kissed you in those same conditions again and again and again and again, if each and every time you would blink up at him when he stopped with color returning to your cheeks.

“Bucky?” Now you sounded incredulous, only to suddenly stop and shake your head as horror washed over your features once more. “No. No, you—you have to go. They can’t find you here. They’ll put you back in the chair.”

Even as you urged him to run as he had once urged you, you reached for him. A trembling hand touched him. You stopped only when the door prevented you from moving any farther toward him.

Bucky shook his head. “Without you? I’m not whole without you. I didn’t come here to crawl back to Hydra like a dog.”

“Then why would you come here? Why would you come back to where this all started?”

“Come on, [Name]. Do I really need to spell it out for you?” he asked.

Your face twisted with confusion. He grinned in return. After a quick squeeze of your hand, he turned his attention to the door. Somehow he already knew it wouldn’t take much to tear it from its hinges. It never would have, even before the decay set in. He had simply stopped questioning the people who told him he did not have the strength to get away.

Things were different now; Bucky had plenty of strength to get you away. All that stood between the two of you and freedom were the same bars that held him back before. Gritting his teeth, he spread his arms out wide and grabbed bars with both hands. Then he heaved.

An enormous screeching of metal against stone filled the air; debris fell from the ceiling onto his head. Bucky ignored it all. He kept going even though the noise was like a knife through his brain, until, at last, he wrenched the entire cell door out of its place. You stood wide-eyed in the empty space beyond until he casually tossed the object onto the floor behind him with a loud bang.

“It’s…it’s really you.” You lifted a shaking hand to your mouth. “You really came.”

“‘Course I did. Couldn’t leave my best girl behind, could I? Can you walk?” he added, as he came up next to you and looped his metal arm around your waist.

Though you still looked somewhat dazed, you nodded. “A little.”

“Good.”

He led you gingerly back the way you came. This walk was slower going. You leaned heavily upon him—but given that you hadn’t eaten, even your increased weight compared to other women your size could hardly impact Bucky.

Heavy breaths issued from your mouth as though every step were difficult. Still you went on. If you noticed the men and women strewn across the pathway, you did not mention them or give them a second glance. All your strength seemed to be focused on holding onto him.

“How are we going to get out, though? There are plenty of scientists here,” you said, after several minutes of staggering through the dark hallways.

Bucky stopped long enough to lift you over a particularly stout body. “Don’t worry. They’re taken care of. I brought—”

“Not one more step!”

He instinctively pushed you behind him, and not a minute too soon. Ahead, illuminated once more by the light in the front room, stood the old man that had greeted Bucky at the front door. Bruises and cuts decorated his sagging face. He would have been easy enough to bowl over, if he didn’t also have a gun leveled right at Bucky’s chest.

“I will not lose both of my pets in one go!” the man wheezed. “I may not have created either of you, but I know enough to get you back in shape. I will recreate Hydra from the ground up, and to do that, I need the Assets. You are mine! You will return to a cell and wait there until I can get you in your chair! Do you understand me?”

Neither of you answered. Bucky looked down to find you staring intently at him instead of the man.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked.

Rather than reply, you stepped around him and right up to the sweating man. He lowered the pistol at your approach. You simply gazed at him for nearly an entire minute.

“Good girl! You have performed beautifully! I always knew you’d bring him back to me in the end. You will be rewarded for your good behavior, I assure you,” the man said.

You smiled sweetly. Then, in one lightning-fast movement Bucky would not have thought you capable of in your current condition, you lifted one leg, slung your foot straight into the man’s windpipe, and spat in his face the moment his head hit the cement.

“I’m not your pet,” you snarled, “and I am never, never going back into a cell.”

Unconscious or dead, the man didn’t answer.

“You always were my favorite student,” Bucky said fondly.

When he reached to help you forward again, you shook him off. You paused until you were able to stand at your full height. This time you walked on your own toward the small square of light ahead. Only now that the obstacle in front of it had been removed did Bucky realize that the light was no longer white. No, it was more orange now, and unsteady. This went unremarked upon as the two of you continued on your way. Not once did you stop to breathe. Not once did you stop to look back, not until you peeked into the room and immediately drew away.

“It’s okay,” Bucky said. At least, he hoped it was. He put a lot of faith in Steve and Natasha, but he was so close to a happy ending that their survival seemed impossible. Before he went inside himself, he took a deep breath.

This steeling of his nerves proved unnecessary. In the center of room, among the shattered light bulbs and twisted remains of the door, was an enormous crackling fire. Steve stood nearby, and Natasha was crouched right next to flames, unhooded, hair mussed, and breaking an oddly-shaped object into smaller pieces in her hands.

“We found your chair,” she said without preamble.

Steve did his best to suppress a relieved grin when Bucky’s gaze got to him. Bucky tried not to feel annoyed by it. Had he not just worried himself over Steve’s ability to cope with a small army of Hydra agents? If they hadn’t got over their need to look after one another after all this time, Bucky doubted they ever would.

“We got cold waiting for you,” Steve explained. Then he turned his smile toward you as you crept up to Bucky’s side. “Nice to finally meet you in person. Bucky’s told us a lot about you.”

“They’re with me,” Bucky assured you upon your nervous glance.

You relaxed at once.

Having tossed what remained of the broken chair into the fire, Natasha stood up. She nodded at you as she swept her hood back over her hair. “Ready to go?” she asked.

Nothing inside the room made him want to stay. Nothing in the room made him think he ought to. What relief! The only thing in the world that would allow him to enter Hell again with hope was you. He caught your eye before offering you his hand.

“How about you, [Name]? Ready to go?” Bucky asked.

Your eyes glided over the same ruined computers and papers that his had. Then you looked from his face to his hand and back again. “We really get to leave? Together?”

“I’m here to take you home,” was Bucky’s only answer, but it was enough.

A dry sob launched you into his arms. Bucky caught you with a laugh as you pressed your face into his neck. So what if you smelled awful? So what if you didn’t feel quite the same? You were you, and you’d be more you than ever after you’d spent a little time with Shuri. He headed for the door still carrying you like that. Natasha and Steve exchanged a look he didn’t understand, then went to follow him out of the building.

Cold wind and ice slashed across his exposed skin. He could feel the cold now, but he kept going. Sam was not so far away that either of you would freeze. The world was small, after all—so small, in fact, that Bucky’s world was encompassed in the woman he held to his chest. Bucky didn’t need to see more of it, didn’t need to make enormous changes, as long as you were always there to be the world for him. And now you would be, for however long the two of you had left in the warm places far away from Hell.

[crysalita]

Left Behind

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count: 2439

Warnings: Suicide mentioned when Bo is telling the story about Trudy.

I had to admit that I never actually wanted to be here, on a road trip that is, but somehow I had managed to find myself getting an invite from Carly, who claimed there needed to be more girls. I reluctantly agreed to tag along, and so far I was regretting that poorly made decision.

I was a third wheel as I lagged behind Carly and Wade. I felt as if all I had done so far since we arrived in this town was either roll my eyes or sigh at their constant flirting. If I had of known that this is what my day was going to consist of then I would have said no in a heartbeat.

The small town we had arrived in gave me strange vibes, whether it was because the town was oddly empty even though we could hear chatter, or whether it was because of the two men that we had come across.

Bo, the man that works at the gas station, spent most of the time eyeing me down after the run in at the church, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“So, Y/n. What did you think about Bo? He seems to have taken quite an interest in you.” Carly teased, nudging my shoulder.

We were in the gas station looking for whatever part that Wade needed.

“Don’t be stupid, he was just being friendly.” I scowled.

“Coming from a guys perspective, he definitely finds you hot.” Wade spoke up.

I sent him a glare. “Just look for that part.”

“He’s got everything, but a 15 inch. I’ll just have to use a 16 inch.” Wade grabbed a hold of the strap that he needed, but we were startled when we heard another voice.

“Are you planning on stealing that?” When I turned around, I was met with Bo leaning against the door frame, still in his suit and tie. I had to admit that the suit did look good on him.

“No, we just didn’t know how much longer you were gonna be, and you know, we didn’t wanna interrupt again.” Wade rushed out. “But I left you some money on the counter, but you don’t even really have the right size. You don’t have any 15 inches.”

“I do at the house.” Bo replied, not looking in the slightest bit like he was convinced by Wade’s constant stuttering, I couldn’t blame him though, Wade made us look more suspicious than we actually were.

“Look, I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea that we’re in here.” Carly attempted to ease the tension.

“Yeah, we already feel bad enough after interrupting the first time, we just didn’t want to do it again.” I smiled politely. In return, Bo sent me one of his own smiles and gestured for us to come out of the shed.

“No worries. That was in the past. We can move on from that.” Bo replied as he held the door open for us.

“You keep fan belts at your house?” Wade asked.

“I get things delivered there when I’m not here. Look, if you want to hold onto the 16, that’s fine by me.” Bo was looking more agitated by the minute.

“No, it’s okay.”

Bo led us outside of the gas station and we began our journey to the house that Bo lived at. My legs were already tired enough as it was from all the walking we had done, and I honestly wasn’t trying to do anymore.

“So, is it too late to sign Carly up for that beauty pageant?” Wade asked with a smirk on his face.

“Now unfortunately it is, well at least for you-” Bo turned and nodded in my direction. “-Because you have won, hands down.” I blushed slightly at his comment but shook it off quickly as I looked away.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. My gaze landed on Carly who was giving me a smug smile to which I rolled my eyes at.

“That house of Wax is pretty cool.” Wade changed the subject. This caught Bo’s attention.

“You went inside?”

“Yeah, it was unlocked.”

“I did try to tell them they shouldn’t, but they both happen to be very stubborn.” I didn’t dare step foot into the House of Wax. Knowing myself I would probably end up ruining the art in there, and I would never forgive myself if I destroyed someone’s art that they, more than likely, spent hours trying to create. I did manage to get quick look inside when Carly and Wade entered, and it truly was amazing.

“Everything seems to be unlocked ‘round here, don’t it? Thank you for having respect.” I was rewarded with another one of his smiles that really did compliment his face, although he did use quite an odd choice of words as it made him seem all the creepier.

I shared a look between the other two, who were also very creeped out.

“I did get a look inside though, when they opened the door that is, and the wax sculptures are amazing.” I complimented. I was a bit bummed out that I couldn’t see the artwork up close to see their full detail, but my conscious got to the best of me and now I was glad that I didn’t go in.

“Yeah, people used to come and see it from miles away. Trudy was the main artist.” I could imagine the amount of people that I wanted to see it, but for some reason there wasn’t any.

“What about Vincent?” Carly questioned. “I saw his name on a lot of the work.”

“One of Trudy’s boys.”

“That family must be very talented. Are any of them still around? I would love to meet them, and maybe they could help me out with some of my own art.” I commented.

“Oh- no. It’s a horrible story. Trudy’s husband, Doctor Sinclair, he was a doctor. He got his licence revoked for doing surgery’s on the side, you know, stuff that most doctors wouldn’t do. So, he moved him and Trudy out here to Ambrose, made a fresh start in medical practise and Trudy found her calm with the whole wax sculpture thing.” Bo explained as we walked past the House of Wax. “It was her dream to do something incredible here. Then she had a couple of kids-”

“What’s so horrible about that?”

“Trudy got a cyst in her brain, she just started rottin’ away.” My eyes widened as Bo continued the story. It was really starting to take a dark turn. “Couldn’t work no more, she went crazy, and it got so bad, that Doctor Sinclair had to strap her up to the bed. The whole town could hear her screaming from the house. And Doctor Sinclair was so depressed that he couldn’t save her he-” Bo creates a gun with his fingers and pretends to shoot himself in the head. “Blew his head right off.”

“That’s horrible.” I mumbled.

By now we were approaching the last house on the road, meaning this was where Bo was staying. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, making the situation all the more terrifying.

“Hey, uh, why don’t you three hop in, and I’ll go get that fanbelt for ya’” Bo opened the door to his car and gestured for us to hop in.

“No, we actually have some friends picking us up where the roads washed out.” Carly interrupted.

“I’ll give ya’ a lift there. It’s the least I could do then for making ya’ll wait.” Carly and I both turned to Wade who was nodding his head.

“Could I use the toilet?” I asked Bo as Carly hopped into the car.

“Yeah, of course. You said you need to use the can too, didn’t ya?” Bo faced Wade. He then proceeded to ask Carly the same question before he led us into his house.

The house was nothing less than what I expected, not that I expected much. To no surprise, it was quite messy, but I couldn’t hold that against Bo, as he most likely wasn’t expecting guests.

“So, where ya’ headed too anyway?”

“Uh, where just headed to a football game.” Wade answered.

“Bathrooms just down the hall. Let me get out of this jacket and tie, and I’ll get the fanbelt. I have another bathroom upstairs for ya’ to use.” I followed Bo up the stairs as Wade walked down the hall. I began feeling nervous as now I was left alone. “You interested in football?” Bo cocked his head to the side as he looked at me. I found myself staring a little longer than I should have, which Bo took notice of too, as his lips twitched up into a sly smirk.

“No, not really. Just here for Carly.” Bo nodded his head along with what I was saying before he popped another question, a very unexpected question.

“I take it ya’ single than?”

“What makes you think that?” I stammered.

“Well, considering those two are tied to the hip, that would most likely mean that if ya’ were seeing someone, then they’d be 'ere too.” Bo explained as he shrugged off his jacket. “And if it were me, I wouldn’t let ya’ out of my sight. Especially in a town I’ve never been in.” Bo opened a door that revealed to be the second bathroom he owned. I walked in and closed the door and instantly let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

This man was making me feel all kinds of things, and I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

I did my business and exited the bathroom to see Bo waiting outside, this time he was dressed in casual clothing, and no longer rocked a suit and tie. I had to admit that this man could certainly pull off both looks.

“Did you need help getting anything? I don’t mind helping.” I offered.

“That would be nice, thank you.” I followed behind Bo, who led us into the garage that was covered in tools and what I could only assume was car parts.

“Is it always this quiet in town?” I watched as Bo gathered some things and placed them in crate he had. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, so I waited where he had placed down the crate.

“Depends on the day, I guess. Sometimes it can be noisy, believe or not, and some days it’s dead silent. Today just so happens to be one of those days.” Bo mumbled.

All of a sudden the lights were cut off and everything went pitch black. I immediately put my arms out to reach for something to grab a hold of. “Bo?” I held my hand out in the direction of where Bo was last stood. “Bo? Where are you?” I felt his hand come in contact with my own.

“I’m right here, sweets.” I was thankful the lights were off so Bo couldn’t see the blush spread out across my burning face. “I don’t know what happened.” The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed throughout the garage, and then I heard the sound of the horn from outside.

“They must be waiting for us.” I muttered to no one in particular. The lights then turned on and I found myself extremely close to Bo as his chest was almost plastered to my back. “Sorry about that. That was childish.” I apologised I pulled myself away from Bo.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Ya’ get a little scared of the dark, nothing to be ashamed of.” Bo picked up the crate of tools. “I’m going to take this stuff out to the truck. Would you mind finding the wrench for me? It should be in one of the drawers over there.” Bo nodded his head in the direction of where the cupboard filled with drawers were before he exited the garage.

Everything felt scarier now that I was alone and everything around me was silent. I could hear my own breathing with how silent it was, and I hated it.

I searched through the different drawers before I found the wrench that I was looking for.

I began hearing shouting from outside and I quickly made my way outside, only to find the truck driving away and Bo standing outside, the tools scattered across the ground. “Bo, what happened?” I slowly approached Bo who was seething with anger, that was until he turned around to me. His face relaxed as he locked eyes with my own.

“Your little friends just decided to drive off with my truck. I guess they forgot that there was a third one with them.” My mood dulled at his words. How could they just leave me like that? “Hey, don’t let them get ya’ down. You don’t need 'em. Especially after the way they’ve acted today.” That didn’t change the fact that someone that I considered to be my best friend, had just left me behind to run off with her boyfriend, did I ever really mean anything to her. “Listen, I have another truck at the station, if ya’ like, we could walk down tomorrow morning and I could drive ya’ where you need to go.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” Bo walked back inside, forgetting about the tools that were lying all around.

“You can sleep on the couch for tonight. I’ll get ya’ some blankets to keep ya’ warm. Did ya’ want something to eat?” Bo yelled out as he walked up the stairs.

“I’m good.” I called back. I sat down on the couch and stared off into nothing, this day was going horrible. I sighed as I placed my head into my hands and tiredly rubbed my eyes.

“Hey, ya’ know. I’d love to see ya’ some more. I wasn’t lying when I said ya’ were pretty. Definitely caught my eye.” Bo placed down the blankets on the end of the couch as he sat down beside me.

I found myself blushing for what felt like the millionth time today. “Really? I’d like to see you more too.” I whispered, looking everywhere but the man beside me.

Bo placed his finger on my chin and guided me to look in his direction. “Look at me when ya’ speak. I want to see ya’.”

Before I knew it, we had spent what felt like hours talking on that couch before I eventually got tired and fell asleep, and that was definitely the only good part about my day, getting to talk to Bo.

[fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy]

Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

[charmed-asylum]

RUMOR HAS IT

DARK STEVE ROGERS X OC MINI FIC

Reqested by  @sage1998c request: Hi I was wondering if you would please consider doing a dark Steve high school au story starting Kat Graham as the main oc/face claim. I would really appreciate it if you would think about it.  

WARNING: ALOT OF CRAZY SHIT!!! I never did a dark fic I am going to miss a few but let start with the basics NO ONE UNDER AGE OF 18 SHOULD READ THIS. BLACK MAIL/ SEX/ YANDRE/ RECORDING OF SEX WITHOUT SHARE AGRREEMENT/ ETC ETC

 SUMMERY: Life was perfect for American boy, aka Steve Rogers. Great friends, hot cheerleader girlfriend, love and adore by everyone. Everything was perfect till senior year when Angelina came around and an anonymous gossip column, Rumor Has It, threatening to expose everyone's dirty laundry. 

~ MASTERLIST~ 

SNEAK PEEK // Angelina OC 

TAGGED: @geralt-jaskier20 @hypersonicxd-blog @muralskins @readermia @muralskins@david-winters-93@alagalaska @SAGE1998C

Thick FOG COVERED Rear WINDOWS of his navy blue 1967 Chevy Camaro. A deep moan came from his mouth as he digs deeper into her wet centerfold. His colossal hand holds tighter to her tiny neck, trying to take all his thoughts else were. “OHHHH FU FUCK. HARDER,” Jane shout from behind his thick fingers. His eyes squeeze tighter; he was close still but so far. Think think think of something Peggy beast No. Jane wet means you sure hit new heights with her. She is enjoying it. He opens his ocean blue eyes and gazed back at Jane; her back was arched, moving closer to his cock. Trying to get more. Greedy bitch. 

He couldn’t wait until he was destroying her. By the end of her fifth orgasm (pushing her fourth ), she would know to never mess with him again. She ends this fuckin blog once together. Finally, end his bad luck streak. All this was messing with him mentally and psychically. Maybe after this, he can finally get in with Angelina. Fuck now; she was a piece of art. Body carve from god himself. He thought Peggy was an angel, his perfect dame, but then Angelina came back into his life. Right when he needed her. It’s been forever since he saw her. Just then, Jane let at whining cries for him. That and imagining it Angelina and her virgin pussy finally help him release. God, that’s it, he thought to himself. It has been happening a lot. Lately, he felt he was in love. He knows it even though he is young. No matter what it is, he was thinking about her. He can’t sleep, eat, think.

Whenever he had a chance to stop thinking of her, it’s about this FUCKING BLOG. RUMORS HAS IT. STUPID SHIT! It already got a few of his friends, and even though he is unstoppable invisible. His fears he was going to be next. That’s why Jane has to be the person behind it. No one else knows Thor secret besides him, Thor and his family, her, and that child’s family. So stupid. So Thor was involved in an accident and drunk and got a child in a fucking coma. With one peek at the camera, he stares back at the feedback, good he is still out of frame. 

Jane utters another whimper. Almost there, he thought to himself. Jane’s sparkling baby pink cat claw nails scratch deep into his pecks and across his ample shoulders. The sight of her nail polish reminds him of a dress Angelina once wear. The last time he saw her, matter of fact, was 12 years ago. She was only three years younger than her. He can taste the chunky chocolate chips that melted into the cookies. He can hear the playful voice she uses when she would pretend to play house. He was daddy, and she was mommy. No matter what he did, she always looked up at him like he was god-like. He was the only one who could ever make her feel safe. Even as a weak, pathetic boy like him. Maybe she was that high he felt once and had been trying to get ever since. He can remember like it was yesterday when they share their 1st kiss. She wanted it; she kisses him sweet dreams of a cloud 9 type of kiss. He would have relished that kiss if he had any common sense instead of screaming around like an idiot. He accidentally pushed her away and made her hurt herself. Even though he was the cause of that pain, it was him she looks at to save her. Make her feel better. Fuck, where did that pretty brown eye with pink tails in tutu little girl go? 

She turns into a fuckin unstoppable beast, a storm of everything that drove him crazy. Everything he saw was wrong with the world. Still, he wanted more. Man, he had to get Jane to understand she was messing up his chance to be with his little angel. God’s gift to him for what he has done what he has accomplished. 

“OH STEVEEEEEE” Jane shouted, her legs clenching tight around Steve waisted her mouth in the notch of her neck. Five 

“I told you I could make you come at least five times. Having the best sex you ever got, huh. Tell me I’m better no one can ever fuck you. Not even your stupid boyfriend, Thor,” Steve said breathlessly.

Jane nods and whimpers softly. It’s you. 

“A no. Doll, I need you to shout it louder for the camera,” he whispered into her ear.

So far into her sexual bliss high, she did not hear him say that but instead agree with him. 

He smiles, now holding the camera close to her wet fold. Jane lay back, eyes close, dazed. With a flash, her eyes peak open to see the phone filming her. She pushes up only to be pushed back down with one finger by Steve, still holding the camera. One hand holds down her arms above her head. A Pitch of Steve’s sweat drips onto her.

“Come on, Jane Baby. Say hi to the camera. Man, I made many sex tapes, but you are the first girl I made come without much effort. That is how much of a gold digger slut you are. Your boyfriend hasn’t even cleaned out his locker, but you are already begging to suck my cock. Tiss. Now now, what are we going to do, huh? One-click, and this goes quicker than one of your rumors. By the time you get out of this car, everyone will know what a dirty slut you are. No more Thor, no more ivy school options. The only thing you can do is give yourself to homeless people. Right, where you belong” Steve chuckle watching Jane cry, begging him to stop. 

“But why Jane baby, you were holding me with an iron fist singing my name to the high heavens. Haha, you bitch. It would be best if you had someone to teach you—the right way. Don’t worry; I do that. Mmm. Would you like me to show you the right way? Show you how to be a lady, not trashy dirty whore” He said, proceeding close, sniffing her dark locks. Could Angelina still smell like sweet sugar and honey? Wonder if she uses a different shampoo than whores like Jane or Peggy. I bet she sounds different too. 

“Please don’t. Do this I. I. I do anything. Please don’t post the video,” Jane said between each sob. Her tiny wrist was starting to burn from the tight grip. 

“Oh, no amount of tears or begging to go to stop me. No. You are going to shut up and listen to me bitch. One-stop your blogging, shut it down, and then redact it all. I don’t care what you say, but you end this shit. THEN you’re going to be Thor’s slave. Do whatever he wants behind closed doors, and in front, you will hold tight to his arm to every court hearing throughout the trials. I don’t care if you miss school; I look or hear you miss anything. I’m posting this gem here. Understand,” He said, tilting his head to the side.

“Bu Bu bu it was not me I not the person behind it. I promise I got mad at Thor yes, he was flirting with girls at all the games. But I promise Steve I never do that. But I admit it if that what you want me to do,” She said, crying with chubby tears. He looks deep into her eyes, trying to see if she was lying. Maybe she didn’t. She was like him in a way, using Thor to better herself. He loosens his hold but remains on top. He savors this for future use, but he won’t tell that. Yet. No, he was going to have a bit of fun with this one.

“Not enough. Huh, I guess that’s bye-bye to a bright future. Or else. You come here and show me just how much you want me to keep this little homemade video a secret. Huh. Make it quick. I got a date with destiny, or should I say, little angel. Remember, you use those pearly whites teeth, or don’t swallow all of it up. Bye-bye future, “Steve says with a huge grind and dark eyes darker the midnight sky. 

[stardancerluv]

A Bad Day

Summary: You’re having a bad, Roman is having a bad day.

Warning: Knife!play, Dommy!Roman

You were sketching at your easel working on a new desk for Two-Face. It was truly labor of art. It had to make both sides of him happy. This was your seventh draft. You had not liked anything you had come up with yet.

The buzzer bounced off the wall of your studio. That alone is one reason why you were really considering Roman’s offer. Your studio would be nice and quiet, well except when he’d be angry. The idea made you smirk. Damn, he really could be hot when he was angry.

Walking over to the door, you straightened your ponytail. Opening the door you were greeted by a pleasant enough guy. “Yes?”

“Delivery, for a Miss Y/L/N?”

“Oh! Yes! I almost forgot. Let me open the big door.”

“Certainly.”

Finally, your new fabrics had arrived. You were so excited. Pushing the button the door began to clank and squeak as it rolled back, then it stopped.

“Seriously?” you muttered.

You pushed the other button. It screeched closed. Pacing for a moment, you took a breath. Going back over you pushed the button again. It didn’t budge.

“Oh my god.” You muttered.

You opened the side door again, leaving it open you went over to where the guy waited.

“It’s not budging, I’m sorry.”

“No worries.”

Together with some heaving and a few grunts, you managed to get all your bolts of fabric into your studio.

You leaned against the wall to catch your breath.

He took his hat off and wiped his brow. “If you’re gonna date someone like Roman Sionis you should at least have him pay for the upkeep of your hobbies.”

You stopped leaning. “What did you say?” You plastered a smile and took a step closer to where he stood.

“He should be supporting his girls’ hobbies more. The other one at least he showcases by letting her perform on Friday nights. You haven’t redone the look of his club, have you?”

Your heart stilled and the anger began to burn. “First of, Dinah is a girl he rescued from the streets. She loves to sing so he lets her.” You stepped closer. “I am his only girl. And this,” You gestured to your studio. “This is mine, I did it for years before I even knew who he was. So it’s not a fucking hobby.”

“Well damn. Looks like his mouth is rubbing off on you. Not such a sweet little artist, are you?” He took a step closer and easily cast a shadow over you.

“You know, I was grateful that we got that done so fast and was going to give you a tip for your troubles. But you just lost that. And I will make sure you can never step foot into Roman’s club.”

The man chuckled. “I don’t need your damn charity. And we’ll see about that, he probably wouldn’t take kindly knowing you now decide who goes in and out of his club.” And then he left.

You were so angry, you could taste it. You practically ran to where you kept your phone.

You opened a text to Roman... But then thought better of it. You still needed to make peace with Zsasz.

To Knifeboy: Can you send a driver to pick me up at my studio, please?

You should change his tag, but at the moment you found it still really funny so it was going to stay.

Knifeboy: Are you ok???

To Knifeboy: Yes! Just in no mood to try and get a taxi to the penthouse.

Knifeboy: Roman’s busy

To Knifeboy: I am coming to unwind in the hot tub.

Knifeboy: All right. See you shortly.

To Knifeboy: You’re coming?”

Knifeboy: Yes.

You swallowed.

To Knifeboy: All right.

******

You grabbed your purse. You stuffed your bathing suit into your bag. You already had a few things there. That was all you needed.

Knifeboy: Here.

To Knifeboy: All right.

He was already leaning against the car smoking a cigarette, when you came out. You knew Roman would only let him do that in the alleyway so you took a little longer locking up.

Seeing you, he took a long drag and flicked it away.

“Oh, you didn’t have to.”

He exhaled towards the sky. “It’s all right.” He went and held the door to the back of the rolls open for you.

“Zsasz, it’s ok. I can ride in front with you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Boss won’t like that.”

You shrugged. “Listen, it’s ok. I really don’t want to be chauffeured by you.”

His eyes really narrowed then and his mouth became a grim line.

“Not like that.” You sighed, trying to not rain your anger on him. You swallowed. “You may be Roman’s right-hand man but you don’t have or well, I don’t know. Right now, I’d rather you not.”

He shrugged. “All right, just don’t tell Roman. He’s already in a mood.”

So he wasn’t having a good day either. You knew to try and avoid. Both of you annoyed at the least probably wasn’t good.

“Seriously?”

“He wants his princess- I mean, girl treated right.”

You finally slid into the front seat. You looked at Zsasz, as he settled behind the wheel. “He calls me princess?”

Zsasz looked like he got caught for a moment. He pressed his lips together. “Sometimes.”

It warmed your heart, you were going to have to talk to Roman about that.

“Well no worries, I won’t say anything.” You just remembered then, you wanted to turn on your voicemail and not be bothered for the rest of the day.

“Knifeboy?” Zsasz then started the car and began heading back.

You instantly flushed and looked over. “Umm, yes.” You looked away and then back at him. “I’m sorry.”

A short laugh came from him. It was followed by a smile you only saw when him and Roman toasted to a good acquisition. “It’s not a lie, well I’m a man but I do like my knives.” He smirked and eased into the traffic.

“True.” Well, you didn’t know how much he did. You knew he always had one. So you changed it.

“I changed it.” You held up your screen.

He chuckled again, still something you were not used to. “Better.”

“Yeah.” You smiled.

*****

He pulled into the alley. “Damn, wait I probably should have gone into the garage.”

“Wait a sec.” You unbuckled and threw your bag into the back seat. Easily you moved and managed to climb into the back.

“Did you really just do that?”

“Yup.” You shrugged. “I know how much he likes to look down from that one window.”

“He does.” Zsasz got out then and went around and opened the door.

“Thank you.” You smiled brightly.

“Nah, thank you.”

******

Your anger was still churning in your stomach but today perhaps things would be the beginning of things being better between the two of you.

******

The elevator dinged and distantly, you heard Roman bellowing into the phone. Sometimes you wished you could do that too. Well, actually you had a little and that felt good. But it wasn’t good enough.

“Hobby.” You muttered, rolling your eyes. Stretching, reaching as high as you could, a content sigh came from you as you walked into the bedroom. Quickly you shed your shorts and t-shirt, you left them on your side of the bed. You slipped on your bathing suit. You smiled when you caught sight of how cute the ruffles and polka dots looked.

You went over to the bar and poured yourself a drink. You drank it. You poured yourself another one.

“What are you doing here?”

Your heart lifted, but the edge made you pause. You closed your eyes and then opened them.

Turning, you smiled. It felt so fake so you dropped it. You never wanted to be fake to Roman. “Hi.” You said softly. “I was having a bad day.” You drew closer, despite seeing the strain in his face.

“Oh.” The rasp remained but it had turned flat. Inwardly, that made you wince.

His eyes were dark, there was barely any blue. A shadow kissed his face, you honestly wished your lips were. His inky black hair was immaculate and so were his shirt and slacks. Glancing down, you noticed his gloves matched. He must have been out and came back already. You looked back up at him.

“So I came over to soak in the hot tub.” You shrugged. “Maybe drag you away from the assholes of Gotham.” You finally smiled as you added that bit a little more brightly. “Want me to make you a drink?”

“Yes.”

You smiled and nodded. You went around the bar and sizing up how he looked and acted, you knew what he needed. at least you hoped you did.

You grabbed a few ice cubes and let them clink into the glass. Grabbing his favorite scotch you poured two drinks worth. Standing up, you turned and gasped. He was right there.

“Oop!” You made a soft sound as you saw him right there. You held the drink out to him. “Here you go.” His gloved fingers grazed yours as he took the glass.

He took a sip. “Those assholes is what gives us, me all this.”

You swallowed, correcting himself felt like a slap across the face. Not something you needed at the moment, especially after the delivery man. Though you knew it was true. His family didn’t give him shit. He was the one who created and maintained his slice of Gotham.

He gestured to you. “Gave me you.” His lips curled as he finished his scotch.

That made you feel cheap.

He had promised that being his girl, could be rough, even unpleasant at times, but he would never make you feel cheap. He had managed to finally do that. Your anger finally erupted.

“That’s not fucking true and you know it.” You looked him right in the eye. But then you looked away. This is not what you wanted, you brushed past him and went back to the bedroom.

Gloved fingers wrapped around your arm and turned you around. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” You wiggle free, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Twisting, you reached for your shirt.

“No, you’re not.”

You turned back. “I’m not?”

He nodded.

“Well, for the first time since we’ve known each other, you managed to make me feel cheap. And Roman, today was not a good day to do that.” You swallowed, actually saying it made it hurt more.

“You’re not cheap.”

Sometimes you were surprised by his strength. Moments later, you found yourself in the middle of the bed and you were under him. You wiggled, unsuccessfully.

“Stop.”

You did. In your anger and hurt that churned, arousal began to blossom. Which made your anger stronger but it also made your need for him grow.

He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head. You could not bite back the moan that came from deep within you.

His lips twitched. “What I meant was," His voice was tight. It was as if he could cough at any moment. You knew he was not one to ever want to explain himself. "It’s because I deal with those assholes, I can supply a place where you can come to hide and I can take care of you.”

“Oh.”

You moaned for real then, when his lips met yours. His crisp aftershave and the taste of the scotch on his lips made you shake. You felt him smirk and pull back.

“There’s my baby.” His other hand took ahold of your wrist.

You wiggled. “Roman.” You whimpered. You flexed your fingers, they tingled. You wanted to touch him.

“Don’t move…”

The sound of metal scraping metal filled the room. You watched as he had brought a knife from his slacks pocket and opened it. The blade was bared.

“Now if you move I might nick you, and that is something I don’t want to do.”

You nodded. “Ok.”

The look in his eyes, the way he straddled you, the gloves and now the knife. Desperately, you wanted to rub up against him. The taste and feel of the kiss was still fresh. You wanted to do much more.

He cut the middle of your bikini top, your arousal for him was already evident there. Your nipples were erect and dying to feel his lips, the shadow on his cheeks. Honestly anything at this point but they wanted attention. Finally he let go of your wrists and he cut each side of the bottom. Moving and tugging he freed you of it. He gestured to the top. “Get rid of that.”

You did. Now you were completely naked under him. You watched as he closed the knife and tossed it away.

He grabbed your wrists, sliding them above you again. It pulled a whimper from you. His lips once again consumed anything else you could have thought of. He moved against you, it almost immediately made you open your legs to him. His hard-on was right up against his slacks.

“That’s my good girl.” He said against your lips.

“Please.” You could taste how much you wanted him.

He cocked his head to the side. “Please what?”

You gave him a look. “Daddy.” You squirmed under him, as he then pulled off his t-shirt.

“What? I know what I need, but you? I need you to tell me.”

Daddy,” You finally said breathless. “Fuck me.”

“That’s what I needed to hear.”

He moved and as he braced himself above you, he easily freed himself. He slid very easily into you, a moan that sounded like him calling you baby, finally poured from his lips.

You wrapped yourself around him with ease. You gave yourself up to the sensations, you surrendered yourself to him. You melted under him as you both moved together, as you wrapped your arms around him. His lips, his scruff, how he felt sliding in and out made sounds just pour out of you in pure abandon. It wasn’t long before your body tightened, you were already so close.

You kissed him and arched against him, as you felt yourself on the cusp of cumming.

“Daddy, please.” You met his now stormy blue eyes.

“Cum for me, baby. Daddy wants to feel it, daddy wants to hear it.”

You did. You shook, your grasp tightened. You clung onto him. “Daddy...” You moaned.

His kiss was hungry, wanton. “Baby.” He rasped in the most wonderful way. And then you felt as he came hard in you. Feeling it made you actually cum again. It shook you and brought you even closer to him.

“That’s my baby.” He was out of breath.

You loved feeling that hot breath of his on your body.

******

“Perhaps, we should fuck more often when we’re angry.” He chuckled when you nudged him. Just his words alone made your desire for him blossom all over again.

You smiled though. “Not a bad idea.” And you shared a kiss. As you looked at him, the edge his anger gave him was not there. It was the Roman you only ever saw when it was just the two of you. It made your heart swell. “Though as your princess...” you met his eyes playfully. “Yeah, Zsasz let that slip.” You explained.

“Well, you are. You are my princess. I love protecting you and taking care of you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You nestled close. As you felt and heard his heart beat, you closed your eyes.

******

“That’s him.”

Hours later sitting beside him in the club, you were dressed in a sweet dress he had decided to surprise you with. You felt so good. You felt as bubbly as your drink.

Roman gestured and Zsasz came over. “Grab that guy. Scare him but keep him for me. I want to talk to him later.”

You grabbed Roman’s arm. “Roman?”

He looked down at you. One side of his mouth twitched up. “What? No one talks to my princess like that.” And he looked at Zsasz.

Who then had a touch of unease hit his face. “It’s all right. It’s not a lie.” He told him.

“He’ll know never to treat you or anyone else like that again.”

“Whatever you think is best. I had told him he wouldn’t be welcome here.”

He rose an eyebrow. “Did you?”

You nodded.

“Good, he isn’t. Zsasz, get him out right now. No waiting. I want him to know I back up what she said. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

You smiled, as you watched Zsasz grab him.

You looked up at Roman. “I will always take care of you.”

“Oh, Roman.” You reached up loving the feel of his scruffy cheek and you gave him a soft kiss. Which you were happy he reciprocated. He usually wasn’t one to do big shows of affection, but at that moment it was just the two of you.

@spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewamode @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @blackmasque @mrskenobi19

[yutahoes]

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Twenty Five - Final)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning: Fluff, Needy Yuta, Cock warming, Unprotected Sex

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @ailoveyuta , @puzziw​ 

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️ 

25. My Home

For the whole day of their stay in Paris, he was just holed up in his room even if his parents kept on forcing him to go with them and tour the place. Why would he? It will only make him remember her. 

He tried calling his friends, but they wouldn't pick up, and he's more depressed than ever. Paris should hold wonderful moments of her, this is where they met. How can Paris hurt him like this? How could those memories get erased by just one word? 

'Sayonara' 

The word he hated the most in the world. 

Doesn't she know that he's still waiting for her? That's it's still her that he wants. She should be next to him right now, recreating the sexual activity they had done back in the same city. And he'll tell her he loves her. Always. 

But damn, all he could do is cry. Alone. In his hotel room. 

Who would have thought that he missed her more today than in the past five years? If this is how his heart would break, he shouldn't have met her in the first place.

--

He was more annoyed when his parents decided to stay in Paris for another day, claiming that they want to explore more. Seriously, it's not like they're new in Paris. He believed Shiho was even conceived here. 

Instead, he sat there alone, in the business class of their flight. Shiho should be next to him, at least easing his mood right now. Why is he always alone lately? Much to his annoyance, Jaehyun decided to call him, "What's up?" The younger casually asked which made him roll his eyes. Yuta rambled about (Y/N) to Jaehyun, tears springing from his eyes. 

He didn't want to cry, Jaehyun shouldn't see him cry. But when he exclaimed 'You're still in love with her.' He felt the tears fell down automatically. 

At this point, he doesn't care that all eyes were on him. He just wanted to tell someone all this heartbreak, not wanting to bottle up his emotions inside. "I still love her, Jae." He kept on repeating, weeping in sorrow. "I want her back." 

"It's still her, Jae." 

When the call ended, a stewardess asked him if he needed something but he just shook his head, avoiding to look at her. 

A handkerchief appeared before him and he quickly took it, wiping his eyes. This is so unmanly. The things he can do for her. "Is this your new way of picking up girls?" His plane seatmate asked, surprising him. 

That's Shiho's seat. And a woman? She might be thinking that he's a pathetic loser. 

Yuta had to blink twice. Are his eyes failing him? Or does he really miss her that much? The girl was staring at the stewardess who just checked on Yuta then glared at him. "She has a nice body, must be your type." She claimed casually. 

"(Y/N)?" he needed to check if she's real or just a figment of his imagination. Is he really this crazy? "(Y/N)?" He repeated and she rolled her eyes at him. "What are you doing here?" 

She showed him Shiho's ticket, grinning. "I'm Shiho now." She said in a failed attempt to make him smile.

What? How? Why? 

"Your parents came to see me yesterday. Eomma…" She shook her head. "Your mom thought we should talk." He was just staring at her. After crying this much, she'll appear in front of him like it was nothing. 

"Gifu told me you rejected coming with them so gibo gave me this ticket so we can talk." So when they said that they're meeting someone, it was (Y/N). But wait, his ears aren't joking him right? She called his parents mother-in-law and father-in-law. "Yuta, I owe you an apology." There was a sincere look in her eyes, the same expression when she told him she loves him. 

But an apology? For what? For hurting him? She'll need to do a lot for that. She bit her lip for a moment and he badly wanted to run his fingers there, no maybe his tongue. God, the effect this girl has on him. "I misunderstood you and Shiho," she confessed and he cocked his head to the side. Misunderstood? "Well, she's calling you otou-chan so I thought she's your daughter." 

"What? Wait, Shiho? What?" That was stupid, Yuta thought. The first sentence he uttered in front of her. 

She nodded, giggling. "I thought you're already married so I said those things about moving on from you. I honestly don't want your wife to misunderstand." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Well it turns out, Shihoh is your imouto. Gifu kept on laughing when I told them." He pursed his lip to prevent himself from laughing. 

She thought he's married? When he can't even look at other girls because of her? "Gomen ne." She said in a small voice, staring at her fiddling fingers. 

A breathy sigh escaped his throat as the voice of the pilot announcing their take-off came booming at the plane's speakers. She can't really run away from him now. And he wouldn't let her anyway. 

The plane ascended to the sky and (Y/N) cursed herself that they have to talk here like this. They should have talked back at the gala when there's land. That way, she can still run away from him. Now, she can't really back down from him. "So you haven't moved on yet?" 

He looked intimidating. Like a father scolding his daughter for a mistake she did. Yet his question is so different. "Yes." 

Yes, she hasn't moved on? Or yes, she moved on? 

"It's still you." she continued. 

His breathing hitched against his throat. How can she shake him up like this? "That guy? At the museum. Were you in a relationship with him?" She shook her head.

"He's my student and he's dating someone." She bit her lip at the intensity of his gaze. "He kept on scolding me when I told him that I lied to you. So I…" She felt a weight on her shoulder that made her stop.

He bent down to lay his head on her shoulder, avoiding to look at her. "God, I even cried when you said you're dating him." He did? His hand held hers, threading their fingers together. "The last time I cried this much was when okasan died."

"I'm sorry, Yuta."

He shook his head, still avoiding to look at her. "I regret letting you go to New York. I should have asked you to stay or come with you." 

She smiled at that. "I almost didn't leave for New York at that time." She confessed. His hold on her hand got tighter. "I was so mad at you when you let me go. I just found out that my birth parents didn't want me in their life. My foster parents don't want me either. So I thought you also don't want me in your life." 

"That's not true." He easily revolted, staring at her. How dare she think of that? When he's like this? Counting the days, even up to the last second of when he can see her again. 

She only smiled. "I know. Taeyong said you're feeling bad about forcing me to need you all the time." He didn't know what to say. Did she talk to Taeyong? "And I hated myself for being dependent on you when I'm really not your responsibility." 

That guy, really. 

"I realized what I really wanted to do. I wanted to prove something to myself." She explained then continued, "To make you proud of me before I come back to you." 

He only laughed at that. God, why didn't they just talked way before? They should have spared some of their tears. "And you did." His other hand tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the other still holding her tight. "I'm so proud of you. The painting, the exhibit, calling yourself a faculty member of an art school." She smiled. The same smile that was etched in his memory when her first work was published. "You have no idea how much I wanted to brag that the person I love is all that."

She released a heavy breath after chuckling at what he said, like a large load escaping her chest. "I'm sorry it took so long Yuta but I want to come back home." 

"Home?" Yuta repeated then giggled. "You do realize that this plane is going to land in Japan right?" 

What? She frantically looked at the plane ticket, seeing that it is indeed landing in Nagoya, Japan. Is she in a rush to see him that she missed this important detail? 

(Y/N) shrugged. "My home is where you are." She said while keeping the ticket in her bag. "I can just book a hotel room…" 

The hand rest separating their bodies is now lifted up as he pulled her closer to his warmth. "God, I missed you so much." And she did as well. 

Five years of not seeing each other and even saying goodbye to him in front of people. Now, this. It had been a rollercoaster for the two of them. 

His lips were on her, making her breathless instantly. The effect Yuta had on her still hasn't changed through the years. "Yuta." She called, making him stare with those twinkling eyes. "I love you." 

He smiled at her. He kissed her forehead muttering an 'I love you' then kissed her nose, repeating the same three words. Again, his lips went on hers. She missed this, missed Yuta's warmth and his scent. His hand moved dangerously close to her breasts that she let go of the kiss, moving away from him. "Yah!"

"Yah?" Yuta glared playfully. "(Y/N), give me a break. It's been years." 

Said girl giggled at that, raising her eyebrow. "You didn't touch any girl?" He chuckled while shaking his head, moving closer to her. "Are you sure?" 

"How can I when my eyes can only see you?" One hand pulled her closer by the waist while the other held on to close the curtain behind her. "We can just do it here, we'll be quick." But she just laughed as a response to his attempt. "Why not? We did it on a plane first." 

"We can get in jail for this. The first time is just us being lucky." Yuta pouted, sliding back to his seat and putting down the armrest between them. 

(Y/N) giggled. He's so adorable. "When the plane lands..." He stared at her for a moment. "I'll let you do what you want when the plane lands." 

"When the plane lands…" Yuta repeated. "I'll make sure you cannot escape me."

She smiled. She doesn't want to, honestly. 

(Y/N) slipped her hand on Yuta's, leaning against his shoulder making him smile. This is the warmth she wants, the warmth that her heart is yearning for. She's home. Yuta is her home. "Tadaima, otou-chan." 

He kissed the top of her head, his heart full of love only for her. "Okaeri, my ai."

--

Yuta had been pacing back and forth the whole time she's seated on the floor and is in a meeting with the director from the art school in Canada. When (Y/N) decided to live with Yuta in Japan, she planned to quit teaching art school and maybe just teach in Japan but the director didn't let her go and told her that she can still teach online. Now, she's in a meeting with the faculty about the latest art exhibit that they planned in Korea. "I'll send you the details when I get to Korea." And with that, she closed her laptop.

Her head rests on top of her hand that was above the coffee table, watching the Japanese man in front of her. "What's wrong?" 

He sat beside her on the floor when he realized that she's done with her meeting, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Are you really going to Korea?" He asked, pouting. (Y/N) giggled at that, nodding and even saying that they already had a talk about it. "I know but can't I come with you?" 

"You have work here. Besides, I have a lot of things to do there. It's not a vacation." Honestly, the exhibit is something that she's worried about. She also wanted to visit the publishing house and see what her friends are up to. Then she wanted to see her foster dad and her new life as a volunteer in a pet shelter. "I'll come back real quick." 

"Really?" He asked, kissing the side of her neck. "Are you sure?" She giggled while nodding. 

She turned her head to kiss him on the lips. "Yes, I'm sure." She said while smiling then turned to the coffee table quickly. "Now, I have some work to do. I'll cook dinner after doing this." 

Yuta pouted at that, arms still holding her by the waist. "It's hard to date an in-demand artist. I like it better when you're a manhwa illustrator," he whined which made her giggle. She opened her laptop, opening a word document that has the detailed plans of the art exhibit. No meeting, she's just typing. 

Yuta pushed the sofa behind, sitting behind her with legs caging her in. (Y/N) gasped when he started touching her stomach under her shirt. "Yuta, I still have things to do," she whined, shrugging off the kisses he was doing on her nape. Why is he so needy all of a sudden? And while doing her work? 

"I need you." he pleaded, now kneeling behind her, holding her shoulders as he rubbed his hardened member on her back. She shouted his name that made him look at her with those puppy eyes. "Just let me inside you, please," he begged that made her look at him, squinting her eyes. "It hurts, baby. Please." 

(Y/N) clucked her tongue, staring at the tent in his pants. Well, it really is erect. Why is he so needy all of a sudden. Knowing Yuta, that might be really tough for him. "Can't you just use your hands or something? I have to finish this..." 

The guy shook his head, holding his clothed cock. "I tried that already but I can't cum knowing that you're here." The girl just giggled at that, Yuta really had his way through everything. 

(Y/N) nodded that made him cheer like a young child, removing his sweatpants and underwear to reveal his red cock. He sat back down behind her, putting a hand inside her shorts that surprised her. "I have to get you wet at least," he said as he started playing her clit with his fingers. 

She just kept on typing, pretending to not be fazed by her boyfriend's action but in reality, she's getting really horny at the way his fingers were fucking her. Yuta is really so good with his fingers. Once wet enough, he tapped her throbbing clit, asking her to kneel, and pulled down her shorts and underwear. Yuta positioned his cock on her entrance as she sat on him that made the guy groan. (Y/N), on the other hand, just bit her lip to prevent a moan from escaping. He can't know that she's liking it as well. 

Yuta started grinding his hips into her, trying to feel some friction without jerking inside her but that proved as a difficult thing to do. "Can't you take a break?" he asked as his hands trailed inside her shirt, pinching her hardening nipples making her moan. "Cock warming is hard." 

"So needy." she teased, shaking her head. The laptop closed once again and he grinned in victory. (Y/N) can't really resist him. 

One hand groped her breast, thumb rubbing her hardening nipple while the other circled her clit. His hands were so rough on her that she can't help but moan at how good Yuta is touching her. 

Her moans turned him on some more, liking how she called his name in the height of pleasure. But it's not enough, he wanted a release. "Ride me," he whispered while licking her earlobe that made the girl groan. Using the floor as an anchor, she bounced up and down on Yuta's cock. "Yes, baby, like that." He started thrusting up to meet her hips, making her scream when he started hitting a pleasurable spot. 

"Yuta! There!" Her legs and arms were giving out to the pleasure she's feeling that she cannot move anymore. "Take over, Yuta," she claimed as he bent her down on the floor, ass in the air and taking her from behind. His hands were on her breasts, groping them while drilling inside her. Both their breathing got erratic and Yuta knew that she's so close, he is in a matter of fact. 

(Y/N) wanted to claw at something, wanted to sunk her nails into it, but the floor isn't a great help to her. As she felt the wave of her orgasm, Yuta's thrusts became more powerful and she knew that he's also close. Their bodies lay flat on the floor and she groaned at her boyfriend's weight, cock still inside her. Fuck, she thought, she's going to die because of exhaustion. Why is Yuta so wild? Is it a Japanese thing? 

He kissed her cheek then her jaw. "Are you alright?" She just nodded at him, breathless. "I'm sorry." 

But she shook her head, smiling at him as he helped her sit up. "At this rate, we'll probably have lunch before breakfast." He stared at her in confusion. Isn't it dinner time already? She just gave him an annoyed look and he realized what she meant. 

He had been asking her that question for months now, 'Do you want to have breakfast?' that even his parents are confused whenever he would ask that at night. "Wait, you're agreeing to breakfast?" he asked then gasped. "You're willing to marry me?" 

(Y/N) had to laugh at that. "Baka! After you cried on the airplane, why wouldn't I marry you? I was waiting for you to say it, not ask me for…" 

Her words were cut off when he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her in a tight hug. "God, I am so in love with you." He kissed her cheek, then her forehead. "I love you." He kissed her nose then her lips, making her giggle. "I really love you." 

"And I love you too," she said s before accepting his breathtaking kiss. 

"My Ai..." he called when they let go of the kiss. "Do you want to get married tomorrow?" 

(Y/N) had to look at him in horror. That fast? What the hell is Yuta thinking? 

Yuta shook his head, grinning. "No, let's just stay in bed tomorrow." He carried her in his arms, bridal style. "I'll make sure you can't walk tomorrow." 

"Otou-Chan!" she shouted as the bedroom door closed.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

Chapter 24

Hi, you. 

If you are reading this, you have reached the end of this fic entitled Otou-Chan. Thank you for taking time in reading this and I hope you enjoyed it. I’m sorry if this is not the smut fic you expect it to be. There’s more fluff than smut here, honestly. I don’t even know if I can call this a smut fic. 

But still, you’re here and you helped me finish a fic that has been sitting in my drafts for years so I really wanted to thank you. Thank you for the likes (hearts?), the reblogs, the recommendations, your compliments, and most importantly, the time you spend in reading this 25 chapter long fic. Thank you for encouraging me to write, for being the reason why I’m excited to wake up every morning and check this Tumblr account. I don’t really know how to sincerely thank you all. 

THANK YOU TO YOU. 💖

Please continue supporting our Otou-Chan, Yuta Nakamoto.  

-🐼

[kissme-hs]

Tainted Love : 2

Here’s awaited part 2 of our recent heartbreak. I would very much appreciate the feedback and suggestions for further improving my writing skills. Also, thank you everyone who showed me love and support it means a lot. I haven’t proof read it so I apologise for any mistakes. I hope you all like it!!

-Ria

Warnings: none

Pairing : Reader x Chris Evans

Tainted love : 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once a cheater, always a cheater. If you can let you heart drag your feelings from the person you believed you loved to a stranger who’s looks were so mesmerizing it made you tremble break the trust your person put in you, you are nothing but a sinner. The sin of crushing someone’s heart for your greedy needs, the heart which would die to give you love is worst than any other. 

You thought this whole time Chris wasn’t the one to be blamed. You thought he went to seek comfort and warmth which you failed to give him for a few days. You thought he felt lonely just because you were working so hard to be accepted in his glamorous world. The blame was on you, as per YOU. But oh boy how wrong you were. The kind heart you carried took the blame of Chris’s sin. Poor you who thought maybe just maybe if you gave him your time things would be different. You left thinking maybe this is what fate wanted. 

No.                                                             

It was never you. Being a kind person came with cons of being taken advantage of. You neither were neither dumb to be fooled easily nor were you the cleverest not once not falling for someone’s fake tears. Your generosity was one of the beautiful traits that made Chris fall in love. Your empathetic self always tried helping the world as much as you could. You were indeed a piece of art he chose to love.

The fault wasn’t yours. He knew. He was aware of how much you were working hard to be accepted in his world of fame, to stand up to expectations of his fans and people surrounding him in being The Chris Evans’s girlfriend. And he appreciated it. Chris was grateful for what you were doing. He was thankful to the lord for bringing such an angel in his life filling it up with joy and happiness. For giving him someone who loved him so dearly he felt the world moved beneath his feet. He was so in love with you even till the date he was on top of that lady. But the thing is, it all did not start when you became busy, it all started way before.

He wouldn’t like saying it was a mistake because it wasn’t. A mistake is an action you do unwilling without any intention. The very first second she pressed her lips to his and he kissed her back was unintentionally as it was a reflex respond of his lips getting used to kissing yours. But the moment after when he pulled her back in grabbing her by her throat was the minute he lost his defense of calling it a mistake. He was well aware and sober enough to know what he was doing. None of the actions ‘just happened’ he chose to do it. It was his own decision sneaking out of the house just to get a taste of her. He forgot about the woman lying beside him dreaming of a beautiful life for the both of them. No longer had Chris started enjoying the feeling of her body connected to his. The new taste got him addicted. The growing lust overshadowed the emotions he had for you.

“I love the way you take me in baby” Chris bite her ear as he thrust in her body bringing himself to the edge.

“Just like your girlfriend does” She smirked and for a second it felt like the realization hit his mind. He looked at the lying lady beneath him and searched for the face he fell for but couldn’t find it. His mind wandered to your face taking in your beauty but the feeling of lust overcame his thoughts.

“Even better”

The feeling of devastation was real as you stumbled out of the house with an aching heart. Your eyes were blurred with the tears he caused you caused because in the back of your head it was your entire fault. The sound of your clicking heels echoed the empty parkway as you quickly rushed to get seated in your car before getting noticed by your neighbors or hiding paps. There was no sun out that day. The sky was dull and grey and soon you heard the rain drop on your roof. Seemed like the universe was helping you, signaling you to let the pain out as you let out a loud cry. If anyone stood outside, it’d hard for them to figure out that you were yelling In ache because of the rain muffling your broken voice.

Every sob reminded you of the time Chris promised you he wouldn’t make you cry.

But here you were sitting with broken promises and tainted love.

Even though Chris was finding someone else attractive, it didn’t mean he stopped caring about you. He missed you with every breath he took, he missed you when he looked at the photos hung on the wall, he missed you looking at the t-shirts you’ve worn. He knew he was up to no good when he decided to still keep holding onto you when he was seeing someone else. He would not deny that he is as selfish man when it came to you. Him fucking her, never changed the fact that at the end of the day it YOU who he thinks of. So when you were almost two days late coming from the business trip he panicked. Yes, he should’ve called to check on you but that’s the thing. There were bare phone calls, bare test messages, bare kisses and almost to nothing of I love you’s.

His mind blurred with the most regretting thoughts, none of them close to him cheating on you but instead something bad happening to you. Little did he know, you already saw the worst of all.

“Hey where are you” He typed in biting his lips, the little voice in his head hinting that you might’ve come across to his dirty little secret but brushing it off he hit the send button. And the wait began. He waited for an hour, two hours and soon he fell asleep waiting for you to text him back. He was sprawled on the couch when his phone buzzed awaking him from his little dream-land.

“Hey Chris,

I came home. I was standing right in front of you but you were so blinded by the beauty of your mistress that you couldn’t see the girl you love once loved. I am sorry for not loving you enough Chris. I am sorry you felt the need to seek love from someone else. Only if I was able to give you the happiness you wouldn’t have done what you did. Please don’t be mad at yourself because I know you will, because I know no one can stop you from caring about me. The way you look at her tells me enough to let you go. And so I will. I hope you find happiness in her. But it won’t change the fact that I still love you, dearly and heavily like I always did.

Take care,

I love you Chris.”

With just mere words he felt his world crashing down. He can’t imagine the pain you felt when the man you loved was fucking another girl in the same bed you made love on. For the first time the guilt crawled up his throat as he let out a gasp, his breath became heavy and his hands went cold. How could he never even once think what would happen if you saw it? How could he not. Just imagining you in bed with someone else feels like getting punched in the guts and makes him want to strangle the man then how could he do the same to you. And oh poor you, he thought. Took the blame on you, left him to be without putting up a fight.

For a second he was disappointed hearing you just give up but then he realized, he was the one who started it. When he saw her working hard day and night he should’ve held you tight, telling you how much he loved you, how much he appreciated you but instead he carried on with his little fling.

His eyes picking up tears and his stomach churning with regret. He did not know what to do. The shame was eating him alive knowing he had the best in the world but he still went for something which was nothing but an illusion.

He promised to give you the love in fairytales but gave you a tainted one instead.

—

Sorry if this didn’t turn out as you thought it would. I wanted to keep things real and based on my personal opinions I would never give a person who cheated on me a second chance.

Tags

@captainchrisstan

@evansphnx12

[lemonlushff-iy]

For freaky Friday Indigo Hues please

Thanks for the ask @liz8080! Wanna know what's going on? Click HERE!

She was here because he had asked her to come. For inspiration. And because he had thought she might perhaps like this show. She wasn't here because it was a date.

Because it wasn't.

And she wasn't completely sure it should be. Because it would be highly unprofessional of her to date him...And she prided herself in professionalism.

Nevermind the fact that everytime she was around him, she nearly kissed him. Never mind the fact that she had always felt a little crushed when they parted and they didn't.

Inuyasha was a dangerous man to be around.

A dangerous man she simply couldn't seem to stop thinking about...And that was going to get her into oh so much trouble. She could already tell.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling at him over her shoulder. "For catching me so I didn't make a complete ass of myself here..."

"Don't worry about it - no one is watching."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well...I'm watching. But that's because it's hard to take my eyes off of you."

Had she mentioned that he was a dangerous man?

"I take it my dancing was just that bad?"

"I've seen worse..." he smirked. "But not many."

"Har har." Kagome rolled her eyes at him and pulled away from his chest, but he wouldn't let her get too far.

"Let's try something else...Something that doesn't involve all of that spinning..." he teased, his eyes twinkling with barely contained laughter as she stumbled forward despite herself. "Still dizzy?"

"I was spinning pretty fast at the end," she sighed, nodding.

"And we haven't even had any drinks yet..."

"Who needs to drink when you can give yourself motion sickness?"

“Me - I do,” he laughed, leading her away from the walls and towards a projection of a tree on a different wall to the right. “Here - this is a nice, stationary one,” he grinned. “Can’t get dizzy looking at this.”

No, but if he continued to stand behind her like that, she didn’t think she would stop being dizzy either. His presence was intoxicating to her, and he wouldn’t let go of her upper arms. She was sure it was just for support, but she was also stupidly leaning back into his chest. It felt so firm and solid and...his scent…

She swore old spice was laced with pheromones.

“No, you can’t,” she finally replied, trying to focus on the tree in front of her. She watched as the limbs swayed in an imaginary wind, causing letters to fly off of it’s branches like leaves in a storm. Once the tree was bare, the cycle would begin again.

“So what do you think,” he murmured into her ear, and she realized that his lips were inches away from her skin. Kagome could feel his hot breath with each word as he spoke.

“It’s interesting,” she swallowed. “It’s a clear cycle of life and death and rebirth…”

The art. She needed to focus on the art.

“I like it,” he agreed. “It’s not something I would want to spend more than a few minutes looking at though,” he decided. “But...I like looking at it with you…”

Her heart was thumping wildly in her rib cage.

He wasn’t hitting on her. He wasn’t.

“That’s because I know my art,” she teased, pulling away from him and walking towards the back wall before he could reply. She didn’t know what he would say, and she was a little too nervous to hear what it would be anyway.

The art was a nice distraction.

Thousands of little white dots littered the back wall like stars in the sky, and when you brushed your hand against it, they scattered.

Kagome could hear Inuyasha’s footsteps as he came up behind her again, and she tried to keep her attention on the wall in front of her.

“This is fun,” she mused, looking over her shoulder at him.

“And you won’t get dizzy,” he agreed, following her lead and touching the wall.

“What does it remind you of?”

Inuyasha was silent as he considered her question, running his fingers along the black wall.

“Thousands of drones swarming us as the apocalypse begins.”

She laughed.

“Really?”

“Well, what does it remind you of?”

“Summers at home,” she mused, shaking her head. “There was a wide open meadow behind our house, where I grew up. It wasn’t huge, but...it was big enough. When I was a kid, I used to run out into it with my father.

Obligatory @clearwillow and @eringobroke tags!