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apocalypseornaw · 5 months

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What If

Dean Winchester x Reader

You make assumptions after a night in Dean's bed that prove to be false

Warnings: Mention of steamy times, cursing, hurt feelings

Heat was the first sensation that hit you. The heat of a warm body curled up to your back. A strong arm laid across your stomach and warm breath hitting the back of your neck as he slept. How the hell had you ended up in this position when the two of you had simply set out to watch a movie last night after Sam had gone to bed?

You'd been in your room, laid across the bed reading a book Alex had sent you for your birthday. It was pretty good so far but you knew you wouldn't get far in it when you heard Dean singing lightly as his footsteps got closer to your open door.

You slid a bookmark in place and laid the book on your nightstand before your green eyed best friend ever Madeira to your door. You glanced up about the time he knocked “What's up Dean?” He smiled slightly “Well Sammy's gone to bed but Claire sent me a list of the top five rated horror movies. The top two we have on streaming”

A grin split your face “Go get them up, I'll grab drinks and meet you in the TV room” he winked at you “that's my girl” then turned to walk off down the hall.

You let out a sigh if only he knew what it did to you when he did shit like that. That wink, calling you his girl. The way he always invited you to watch movies, go for late night drives or how gentle he was patching you up after hunts. You shook your head to clear those thoughts out, he was your best friend. Yeah he was drop dead gorgeous but you couldn't help that you had eyes. You wouldn't ever cross a line he'd never acted as if he wanted to cross and risk that relationship.

____________________________

You were sitting next to Dean on the couch, your feet were curled up under you and Dean's favorite blanket was draped across you both. About halfway through the second movie a jumpscare actually got to you and without thinking you curled into his side, hiding your face in his chest.

He chuckled lightly as he tucked his arm around your body “Oh come on sweetheart. I've seen you take on shit a lot scarier than that and not blink!” You looked up at him and stuck your tongue out, trying to ignore just how close your faces were “Bite me Winchester. Real life doesn't bother me because if it can touch me and hurt me I can touch it and hurt it”

He shook his head “You're something else” you raised an eyebrow “What you mean by that” he raised his hand that wasn't curled around you to push your hair back that had fallen into your face “Beautiful, smart, badass. Pretty damn close to perfect” you could feel your cheeks warm slightly. It wasn't unusual for Dean to compliment you but it always made your stomach flip. “Oh shut up” you pushed against his chest hoping to turn this semi flirtatious moment into a teasing one but damn him if he didn't cup your chin gently and lift your head to meet his eyes before a smirk slipped onto his face “Make me”

You don't know what came over you at that moment. Maybe temporary insanity? Regardless you found yourself moving forward until your lips met his. It was just a simple kiss but something you'd dreamt of for far too long. It didn't take him even half a second to react. His hands went down to your hips, pulling you over into his lap and when the action caused a light gasp to leave your lips he slipped his tongue into your mouth rolling it against yours in a way that had you melting into him.

When you ground your hips down against his and a deep groan left him that was when reality set in. You were currently straddling your best friend, making out with him and damn near dry humping on the couch. You broke the kiss and damn near jumped off his lap. “I am so sorry Dean. I don't…I don't know what was going through my head”

He stood up, adjusting his jeans as he did so and your eyes flicked down to see a bulge that made your legs weak. The look in his eyes, damn how many waitresses and barmaids had you cussed over the years for having that look focused on them and now you couldn't think straight. “I wasn't exactly shoving you off” he replied taking a step closer and when you didn't back up he quickly covered the space between you pulling you into his arms “You're my best friend Y/N. Besides Sam no one on earth means as much to me as you do but that kiss was….fuck…if you want then this never happened. We'll turn on a different movie and nothing more”

“Or?” You asked, feeling your heart leap into your throat. A smirk slipped back onto his lips “Or we could go to my room and talk” “talk?” You repeated and he nodded “nothing has to happen”

________________________

A moan of Dean's name left your lips as he kissed a trail down your neck, his fingers slipping inside of you easily. “Fuck I love hear you say my name like that” he teased. It didn't take him long to find that one spot inside of you that had you clenching around his fingers and your legs shaking around his wrist.

He continued to pump his fingers lazily in and out of you as he worked you through the orgasm. When you weakly pushed at his wrist he caught your eyes before licking his fingers into his mouth, those sinful lips working as he sucked your juices off his fingers. “Taste as good as you look” you shook your head with a laugh “Take your pants off and get up here Dean” he grinned “Yes ma'am”

He stood long enough to slip his pants off then crawled up the bed, kissing his way up your body until he got to your lips. He caught them in a searing kiss that let you taste yourself on him. He pulled back enough to meet your eyes “Are you sure about this?” You nodded and felt his hardness pressed against your inner thigh “I want this”

He pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your entrance. When he slipped inside of you a moan left both of you at the feeling. He dropped his head down against your chest once he was fully inside of you to give you time to adjust. His lips left a trail across your collarbone “you feel so damn amazing sweetheart” After a moment the discomfort of the fullness of his gave way to pleasure so you turned his face to kiss him “Move Dean”

He began to roll his hips tentatively against yours and when your reaction was your eyes rolling back slightly at the feeling that was all the clearance he needed. “Eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see you come undone” it took you a minute to focus your eyes back on him and when you did he smiled almost shyly “look at you Y/N. Damn you're perfect” he pulled almost completely out of you then slammed back in. Your hands went to his shoulders, fingernails cutting into the skin as he sat a grueling pace that filled the room with the sound of skin hitting skin and both of you moaning the other's name.

When you felt yourself reaching that peak he bit down gently on your neck “Let yourself go baby. I'm not far behind. I want to feel you come around my cock, please” Dean Winchester of all men begging you to come? Christ, that pushed you over the edge with a scream of pleasure ripping from your lips.

His thrusts faltered slightly and through gritted teeth he asked “Don't you have an iud?” You nodded and he buried himself inside of you with one final thrust. The feeling of him coming worked another small orgasm out of you that had your legs shaking around him.

When he pulled out you whimpered slightly and he apologized with a light kiss “Just gonna grab my shirt to clean you up some baby ok?” You nodded weakly and felt the bed dip before Dean was knelt between your knees “Open up for me beautiful” you slowly spread your legs and he smiled “you look so fucking gorgeous like this. All fucked out” he used his shirt to clean you up as best as he could before tossing it back to the floor.

When he laid back down next to you he ran a finger down your side which caused you to squirm. “I'll go to my room once my legs work” He slipped his arm around you to pull you back against him “Take your time. No rush”

Every insecurity and what if started to flip through your head. Dean wasn't a settling down type. He didn't like attachments because he knew that put a target on them. He cared about you enough as a friend to put himself in danger. This wouldn't work. Either he'd not want this and feel some sort of obligation from your years of friendship or worse he would feel for you what you truly felt for him and it would end with him getting himself killed to keep you safe.

______________

It took some work to slip out the bed without waking him but you managed it and slipped your clothes on quickly. You needed a shower and to get the hell out of the bunker for a few minutes. You just needed to clear your head. It was supply run day. Groceries were needed and mail needed to be checked. You'd tell Sam to let you handle it. That would give you breathing room.

When you parked your car back at the bunker Sam came out to meet you and help with bags. When you glanced behind him he shrugged one shoulder “Can I ask something that may not only be none of my business but may be uncomfortable too?”

You nodded “We've known each other for a good chunk of our lives so I'd say yeah” he grimaced as he ran a hand across the back of his neck “I heard you and Dean last night so I thought…I don't know what I thought but did something happen? Because he seemed upset that you left while he was asleep”

“Sam, I didn't want to make things weird for Dean. You know my feelings” he nodded “but did you ask him his or just assume?” You didn't have to say anything Sam saw the look in your eyes. “He's in the library cleaning guns. I've got the bags”

________________

You could hear the clinking of metal when you got closer to the library. You stopped right inside the doorway and watched Dean for a moment. The way he handled the guns was a thing of beauty. He could probably break them down, clean them and put them back together in his sleep at this point.

He didn't look up from the colt before saying “You made it back in one piece” you nodded lamely “Dean can we talk?” He laid the colt down and raised his eyes to meet yours “Let me guess where this is going. You had a good night but don't want nothing to change”

You swallowed hard under the intensity of his stare “Can I talk without you putting words in my mouth?” He waved a hand to say go ahead “Dean you're my best friend and I love you, I fell in love with you. Last night was fucking amazing but I don't want to make you regrets things, you don't do love, you don't do relationships”

“because why? Dean's a man whore that just bed hops? Because Dean is incapable of love? Because despite us being best friends for over a decade there's no possibility that I fell in love with you too? There's no possibility i fucking wanted to wake up with the woman I love in my arms?” You flinched at his tone despite your heart flipping at his words “You love me?” He stood up and walked around the table “How could I not?”

You took a step back putting your back to the wall. He stood right in front of you, leaning a hand on the wall just over your head but giving you room to move “I love you Y/N. I'm in love with you. Last night was everything. Now what other demons are lurking in your head cause you know I don't mind taking on each and every one of those sons of bitches”

“What if you get hurt protecting me?” You asked and he smiled “baby I'd do that now but I know for the most part you can handle yourself and don't act like you're not self sacrificing either” you laughed despite yourself “What if you get bored of one woman?” He grinned “unlikely but we can always role play sweetheart. Believe me I mean it when I say you're fucking perfect for me”

“What if…” he cut you off by saying “What if you stop giving me excuses and let me kiss you? We could both die tomorrow and if that happens it happens but I'd rather have a day knowing you were completely my girl then live the rest of our lives just having part of you. I'm yours, you mine?” You nodded “Always. Now kiss me” He grinned “Yes ma'am”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff

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ourg0dsal · 7 months

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Gideon Nav CANNOT Die. Hold on- I know... but give me one second and I'll explain.

So, as I said before Gideon Nav cannot die, or at least her body can't. Cause clearly (spoiler warning) Gideon Nav died at the end of Gideon the Ninth. There is no avoiding that.

But! If you have read all the books GtN, HtN, and NtN including all of the accompanying short stories (tho I will admit I have not read The Mysterious Study of Dr. Sex yet) then there is a better understanding of the timeline of the whole story outside of just what the three main books give you. Specifically and especially with Gideon's body. But also there are many times In Gideons life were she has faced near death events or events that she should not have survived from and still was breathing on the other side.

To go in chronological order of these events, when she was first born she was found in a container held by the air depraved suit of her mother. And while ofc In the book it does state that her mother had redirected her air supply to Gideon, but it is simply being stated to cover all my bases.

Then the 200 sons and daughters massacre when Gideon was 1 (or 2 im not sure) when she inhaled poisonous air without dying. Which led ofc to the Reverend Mother and Father fearing the ground she walked. And this is a big one because, it literally creates waves in the plot. It's a defining point of Harrow and Gideons relationship. That Gideon did not die when she was supposed to.

Later in the story Gideon talks with Pal when she believes Harrow to be a murderer and openly admits to him that "she nearly killed me a half dozen times growing up" which obviously in context was to emphasize on the brutal relationship between her and Harrow. But this could also be other times where miraculously Gideon survived death when she shouldn't have. Because as we know from the first confrontation between Harrow and Gideon. Harrow doesnt hold back for her.

Finally of all the events where Gideon escapes death, this one actually happens within the main story of Gideon the Ninth. When Harrow siphons from Gideon to retrieve one of the challenge keys. And at the end when Gideon passes out, it is narrated ""ha-ha," said Gideon, "first time you didn't call me Griddle," AND DIED." Now, this could obviously just be the snarkiness of Gideon narrating. Or something incredibly clever left behind by Tamsyn Muir for a book series that is so clearly meant to be reread. But ofc to do my rounds the next line after does state "well, passed out. But it felt a hell of a lot like dying." But then immediately after "wake up had an air of ressurection." Which honestly feels like Tamysn Muir teasing the readers at this point. The question then becomes rather, which one was the tease and which one was foreshadowing/ evidence.

Now the point of listing all of these events is that in all of these cases the chances of death are so incredibly high that for most its a miracle she's alive. Ofc most notably for the siphoning trial and the poision gas, but none the less there is proof within the written story and and out that Gideon has looked death in face and moved on with maybe a headache. And it wasn't just in her child hood this is something she can just do. Some recreated in the written story! Because as Pal said. Even with the siphoning challenge done perfectly the chances of leaving Cam with severe brain damage was far to high. And Gideon didn't even suffer that.

Sadly, despite all these Gideon gets to the final battle and fights Cytherea and does die. At the hands of a particularly pointy fence. Or was it truly the fence that did her in? Rather than the lyctorship ritual that was started seconds afterwards.

My full theory, isnt just that Gideon Nav can't die. It's that Gideon Nav wouldn't have been able to die... If Harrow hadn't sucked her soul out. There are at the very least 8 seperate events that Gideon should have died, two of which were nearly gauranteed, but she was ended by a piece of metal. Yes, a very well placed piece a metal, but the point still up to that point she had faced worse a came out unscathed.

If Harrow had not completed the lyctor ritual, Gideon would not have died. Wether or not through resurrection or simply walking it off. Gideon's body has some sort of necromantic attributes to it that keep her alive. We see this in the Untitled Entry short story with Judith Deuteros that describes Gideons body, as it does not rot, cannot be injured, cannot be fed to animals forced or otherwise. And that is all before Jod ever gets a look at the body, because otherwise he would have known Gideon was his daughter before the later events of Harrow the Ninth.

And ofc during the first challenge when Harrow uses Gideon as her eyes to be able to see the construct in the other room and Gideon is able to see the thanergetic signatures that Harrow remarks should be impossible. (I assume because the process is Harrow extracting information (Gideons eyesight) from Gideon and so Gideon should not also be receiving information (the ability to see the signatures)) unless Gideon had some form of necromantic abilities, which she was tested for as a kid and apparently did not have. Alongside not having the correct attitude to be a nun of the ninth. And so we can round it out to be her body being naturally necromantic leaving Gideon without the ability to use it. (Which Is a jump from the actual point we are attempting to use, but for now this stops us from assuming Gideon as any sort of necromantic ability which is a theory all on its own. One that I personally have no evidence for or against)

Now, that I have hopefully made both my Ap Lit and Lang teachers proud with my 3 am essay, I must give you the real tragedy of Gideon the Ninth. Had Gideon not died, had Harrow been unable to complete the lyctor ritual for emotional reasons or otherwise, had Harrow not become a lyctor and killed cytherea. Gideon would have had to watch Harrow and Cam be killed, possibly even Corona, Judith and Ianthe. And then to be used for Cythereas own motives. Tamysn Muir beautifully set up the story so that the best possible outcome could have happened. Had Gideon not died. Everyone else would have. And "Camilla the sixth was no idiot" cam knew and accepted this whereas Harrow never would have. And so the unkillable Gideon had to die, and forcing Harrows hand was the only way to do it.

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aroaceleovaldez · 4 months

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okay last one for the night but. honestly i really hate how the franchise has been using loyalty to Rick as a shield for so long. If Rick was involved in a project or not doesn't matter, especially not anymore.

ReadRiordan and the publishing for the franchise has been using this tactic for ages - they obscure if any writing related to the series wasn't written by Rick unless it's special circumstances. It's near impossible to find out who the ghostwriters are (Stephanie True Peters and Mary-Jane Knight). TSATS was promoted as the first time we got a non-Riordan (Rick or Haley) author working on one of the companion novels despite having seven already existing ghostwritten books in the series. The only reason Mark Oshiro was emphasized so heavily for TSATS was because they also work as a sensitivity reader for topics such as queer identity, and Rick had received backlash in the past for being a Straight Cis Old White Guy repeatedly falling into bad habits (that he hasn't broken out of) with certain characterizations that he kept doubling-down on or retconning into oblivion. The show emphasizes that Rick was involved, but the LA Times article brings into question exactly how much he was involved, and it doesn't even really matter either way. The ReadRiordan site actively avoids putting any writing credits on their articles (or art credits...) or anywhere on their site.

Practically the entire fandom unanimously agrees the musical - which had zero involvement from Rick - is the best adaptation of the series so far, including the TV show. Some of the best writing to come out of the series recently was the stuff ghostwritten by Stephanie True Peters (Camp Half-Blood Confidential, Camp Jupiter Classified, Nine from the Nine Worlds, etc). And yet when promotional stuff is posted about CHB:C, there's clearly coded language used to hide the fact that Rick himself didn't write it. Yes, that's how ghostwriters work, but at this point we should really stop pretending "Rick Riordan" isn't just a pen name for a group of authors like "Erin Hunter" and that Rick is actually writing everything in the series. I can easily look up and see which Animorphs books were ghostwritten, and who those authors were. I can find every "Erin Hunter" easily listed on official sites. And yet most people don't even know the Riordanverse franchise has ghostwriters at all.

And the franchise is still trying to use the "Tio/Uncle Rick" stuff. Author loyalty and marketing parasocial relationships isn't going to save the franchise when the author himself can't hold up his own original themes or even keep basic series bible details straight, and especially not if the editors are barely if at all doing their job. And please at least get a goddamn series bible by this point.

#pjo #riordanverse #rick riordan #readriordan #pjo tv crit #rr crit #< this isnt just rr crit im coming for the whole brand #readriordan site also cant center their webpage footer properly. thats just kind of sad #@readriordan staff make sure your </center> code has the closing angle bracket in the right spot. check for spaces.#mary-jane knight #stephanie true peters #< more self organization tags cause i like talking about the ghostwriters. unsung heroes #long post //

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fallinforerling · 1 year

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mimi i can’t stop thinking about when y/n comes and visit sthe bellinghams and y/n and jobe hug for too long n jude is just so very… pouty the whole night lmfaooooo then when he drops you off at home he’s so clingy and whiny :c

- bora <3

ps. this used to be erensfavgirly just so you know 😭 you can tag me as roses-arerosies for all ur new fics <3

but you love me more, right? - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Jude was ecstatic once he found out you were able to come with him to England. Visiting his family already had him in a fantastic mood, but now that he knew you were accompanying him, he was over the moon. He knew how well you got along with his family, so once he let everyone know on the group chat, he confirmed all the affection his family had for you with every new text popped up on the screen.

✉️ Mum ❤: Yay! That’s such great news!

✉️ Mum ❤: Tell her I’m making her favorite

✉️ Hey! What about my favorite?

✉️ Jobe: Oh, please. She’s the apple of mum’s eyes, don’t act like you didn’t knew

✉️ Dad: Tell her that I bought new tea flavors for us to try

✉️ I’m starting to think I’m not the main attraction of this visit, am I?

✉️ Jobe: No way! Seriously?

✉️ Jobe: She’s also my favorite

✉️ Dad: Jobe, donʼt be hurtful towards your brother

✉️ Mum ❤: Canʼt wait to see you both 💕

✉️ Jobe: Tell her I miss her

He couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s text. It was obvious he had a crush on you; Jude found it funny since it was a little bit cliché, the little brother having a crush on the older brother’s stunning girlfriend. Oldest joke in the books. It wasn’t a big deal anyways.

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He didn’t consider himself a jealous person. At least, not the type of person that would go as far as considering his own brother a menace to his relationship. It was stupid to even consider it anything more than something to joke about. There wasn't a real chance of something actually happening, not only because he was his brother but also because he was younger than both of you. You considered him a little brother, for the love of God.

Nonetheless, it was hard to ignore how long the hug between you two lasted. His brother seemed to be in heaven while holding you tightly, his head basically on your neck, refusing to let you go after a couple of minutes. It was almost funny to see if it weren’t for the unnerving feeling he was getting from it. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but... Was he smelling your hair?

“It’s so great to finally see you!” You said once Jobe let you go. He looked down at you with the biggest of smiles. “And you got so tall! How did this happen?” You pinched his cheeks, treating him as you always did, with care.

However, Jude’s brain started to overthink, and he was feeling nauseous. Why was he jealous of his own brother? He was being ridiculous, and he knew that. But some things were hard to avoid, and his jealousy was one of them. He tried to fight it as you all moved to the living room, where his mom had prepared a big tray of snacks.

“So, did you had a good flight?” His dad asked once you were all sitting on different points of the large sofa. You nodded with a smile, receiving a tiny bowl full of your favorite snacks from Jobe, who only had eyes for you.

“Thank you, honey!” You said to Jobe, who nodded with a slight blush on his cheeks before getting a bowl of his own. “It wasn’t as terrible as I thought. I actually really liked the food they gave us; it was a tasty chicken sandwich. Right, babe?” Your voice woke him up from his daydreaming, making him sigh with guilt for the direction that his thoughts were taking. “Are you tired?” You asked once he didn’t answer right away, rubbing his leg.

“No, no. I was just distracted for a little bit. But yes, it was a surprisingly good sandwich. She had to talk me into eating it at first, though.”

You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but hold you closer to his frame, suddenly hungry for your touch. He didn’t let his mind slip to any other ridiculous thought about jealousy and his brother’s stupid crush on you. He gave his full attention to one of his dad’s stories, making sure to always have you close to him while listening. He knew you were giving him weird looks because this wasn’t his usual behavior around his family, but he didn’t care, he needed to have you next to him for a moment.

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Okay, forget about leaving his jealousy thoughts behind.

Jobe was stepping over an imaginary line that he didn’t know he had marked down since you all entered the kitchen. He was all over your space, but the worst thing was that you didn’t seem to mind. He hugged you by the shoulders, talking about God knows what while giving you the smile he knew very well since he was the one who taught him the smile trick. Was he openly flirting with you, or was he seeing things? Why would he do that in front of him? Why would he do that in general?

When he decided that enough was enough, and that he was going to do something about the situation, Jobe left your side. He saw how you nodded with a tiny smile at whatever he said, still sipping the cup of blueberry tea his dad gave you not too long ago. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to take you away from his brother’s hands.

“Hello, pretty.” He said once he was near enough to whisper in your ear. You giggled, as every time he startled you, but you immediately turned around to hug him. “I missed you.” Jude returned the hug, closing his eyes once he felt your warmth around him.

He didn’t know why, but he was feeling the need to be as close as possible to you. Why was he feeling so clingy all of the sudden?

“Are you okay, babe? You were acting a bit weird earlier.” You said against his neck while rubbing his back distractedly.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He wanted to stop there and just enjoy the hug, but his brain had other plans. “Seems like Jobe missed you a lot.”

“Right?” You were apparently naive about what he meant by it, since you just smiled. “He’s such a sweetheart, I love him a lot.”

Okay? Ouch, no need to rub it on his face.

“But you love me more, right?” He bit his lip, surprised by his own stupidity. Why would he ask something like that? What was wrong with him?

“Are you guys ready for dinner?” His mom interrupted whatever dumb thing he was about to say after what just came out of his mouth.

“Just a minute, Denise.” You didn’t let him go, hugging his waist a little bit tighter while smiling apologetically at her. He saw the expression on your face, and he knew you noticed what was wrong.

“That’s alright, I’ll hold your plates for a minute, come when you’re ready.” His mother said, finally leaving you alone. It appears like you weren’t the only one who noticed something strange going on.

“Baby, are you jealous of Jobe?” You asked it in a serious manner, but your eyes were filled with such amusement that he felt like a little kid that just said something very stupid but very funny as well.

“No…” You knew him very well, so there was no point in lying, but he did it anyway because admitting something so ridiculous was very embarrassing.

“You’re so adorable.” You laughed after a moment, taking his face in your hands. “Don’t be silly; why would you be jealous of him? He’s like a little brother to me.”

“I dunno.” He simply answered, knowing he was being irrational. “He has a crush on you…”

“He’s your brother, Jude.” You giggled again, kissing his lips shortly. “That’s why you’ve been hugging me all night long?”

“Mmmh.” He felt mortified, so he went for the safest option and hugged you again, trying to avoid your face. You were having too much fun with this new information. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t.” You whispered back, silently laughing at his antics. He could actually feel how hard you were trying to hold your laugh. “I really love you a lot, silly jealousy included and everything.”

“But more than you love Jobe, right?” He asked with hope, still refusing to retrieve his head from your neck.

“Yes, Jude. More than Jobe.” You laughed loudly, not being able to keep it down anymore.

“What’s up with me?” Jobe said, entering the kitchen, clueless about the subject of your chat.

“Nothing!” He quickly said, not letting you give away anything that happened seconds ago. If it was bad that you already knew about the jealousy thing, it would be hell if his brother found out. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay? Well, let’s go eat it then? Stop asphyxiating her with your love, she’s got enough of that already.” He knew Jobe was just messing with him, but he had to bite his tongue and resist the urge to say something along the lines of “Well, she’s my girlfriend, not yours!” but that would be too childish, even for him.

So he just stayed silent and followed his brother into the living room, still giving him annoyed looks that were received with pure confusion. You just rolled your eyes and whispered to him to keep it down.

Needless to say, even though he acted normally, refusing to let his childish side win, he still felt like he needed to create some space between you and Jobe. He insisted on sitting between both of you, keeping a hand on your tight at all moments, which resulted on you casually laughing or giving him loving looks that just made sense to him, the rest of the family weirdly looking at each other. He made up an excuse after an hour or so, saying you two were so tired from the flight and you needed to head to the hotel, but in reality, he just wanted to cuddle with you and have you all to himself for the rest of the night. You just let him be, still messing around while giving him head scratches to help him fall asleep.

He guessed that jealousy just turned him into a clingy mess, but you seemed very okay with it, so what was the matter?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE'S TAGLIST

#jude bellingham #jude x you #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude #jb22 #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #mimi answers #footballer fic #football fic #footballer fanfiction #football fanfic #footballer blurb #footballer fluff

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purple-babygirl · 26 days

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in the far corner of the forest VI

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 7,498 (my excuse is this is the last one)

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, so much cum, cum swallowing, Bucky is a lil filthy, multiple orgasms, pregnancy.

A/N: aaaand our story with our favorite orc comes to an end. I've certainly had a lot of fun writing this one and I loved you reading it even more. Thank you to every one who has been here since the beginning I love you with my whole heart. also if you see this, please wish me good luck on finding a job, your girl is broke and too weak for the streets. please enjoy xx💜💜

“I wanna talk to you about something,” she said, her gaze nervous as she set down a mug of green tea for Bucky on the dining table.

He was reading a bit while she finished up the kitchen work and he didn’t ask for tea, which meant she wanted something and was probably bribing him. It definitely made him curious to know what she was going to ask for.

Life with Bucky was an absolute dream. Their relationship was stable and solid and she thought it would be a good time to finally tell him about everything that has been occupying her mind lately.

“Is it that I need to lose weight?” Bucky teased, gesturing to the green tea before him.

“Bucky,” she whined, “I’m serious!”

Bucky laughed, “okay, okay,” he put the book down instantly, “I’m all yours, sweet thing.”

She smiled timidly, “promise me not to get mad.”

“I promise?” Bucky said, unsure what to think of this conversation.

What did she do?

“No, like, say the whole thing…”

“I promise not to get mad?”

“Thank you.” She sighed.

“What is it, my love?” Bucky held her hand in his, rubbing the back of it gently.

“I— umm I know that women working is frowned upon in our kingdom, but— um—”

“First of all, that’s just a human thing. Our females can do whatever they want. Second,” Bucky brought his other hand to her cheek, “you can talk to me, little human. Don’t be afraid. What is it that you want? Be sure that I’ll make it happen.”

She sighed again as she briefly leaned into Bucky’s touch before pulling away, “please don’t say no.” She pleaded.

“I have to know what you want first.” He chuckled lightly.

“Remember when you said that Sam and Sarah liked the strawberry jam I made?” She asked, chewing on her lower lip.

“Yes, and we’ve been their jam suppliers ever since.” Bucky laughed, holding his tea mug to take a sip.

“You also liked it, right?” She tilted her head anxiously.

“I loved it.” Bucky licked his tusks seductively.

She blushed, biting back a smile, “and— and the girls back at the orphanage would always tell me they liked my jams too.”

“As they should.” Bucky nodded, boosting her confidence, making her smile.

Gods, she loved him so much.

“So I was thinking maybe… maybe I could try and sell them?” She finally said the words, her voice hushing by the end of her question as she gauged her orc’s reaction.

“Sell them?” Bucky asked, setting his mug down.

She nodded, nervous again now that he didn’t seem to like the idea very much.

“Like in the market?”

“Yes.”

He stayed silent for a beat, a frown forming on his face as he thought about her request.

She put her hand back in Bucky’s, “if you say no, I won’t bring it up again, but—”

“I’m not gonna say no, sweet thing. I’m just worried,” Bucky said lowly, appearing to be deep in thought as he squeezed her smaller hand in his.

“Worried about what? I have saved money for everything! You would always give me a lot of money before we go out to the market and I’ve saved most of it. You’ve already gotten me everything I needed, so I didn’t really spend much. You don’t have to worry about buying materials! I know they would give us the fruits for a cheaper price if we buy in bulk—”

“Little human, that’s not what I’m worried about, and I’m not about to let my wife start her business with her savings. Your money is yours.” Bucky interrupted firmly, shaking his head at her.

She smiled warmheartedly as she hugged her orc’s hand to her chest, “then what are you worried about?”

“I’m worried about the people in the market. We don’t know how they would react to you putting up your own stand in there. There are no women there, sweet thing. As you said, it’s frowned upon.”

“There is Martha, the jewelry lady!”

“Yeah, but have you seen any other female besides Martha?” Bucky gave her a sad smile.

“No,” she mumbled, disheartened at the thought that she might not be able to bring her small business idea to life.

She knew that Martha was only working because she was a childless widow and the stand was originally her husband’s. She was the only one left to inherit and run it or else she wouldn’t be able to afford food.

“I’m not saying we’re not gonna do it,” Bucky brought her gaze to his by her chin, “but I can’t not worry about you.”

“I know.” She dipped her face to kiss Bucky’s palm, “what are we gonna do?”

“If a jam stand in the market is really what you want, then I will support you all the way until your booth is standing high in the middle of that market.”

She smiled fondly before feeling anxious once more, “what if the men in the market don’t like it?”

“Then they can take it up with me,” Bucky reassured her, his chest puffing involuntarily as he imagined having to fight for his wife.

“I don’t want any trouble, Bucky. I don’t want our peace to be disturbed. I don’t want you to have to fight again, at all.”

“At least then I’d be fighting for something I actually care about, and someone I’m knees-deep in love with.” Bucky sat her on his lap, his blue eyes gazing into hers.

Heat rose to her cheeks and tears to her eyes before she pressed her lips to Bucky’s, “thank you, my love.”

“Copycat,” Bucky teased, “you got nothing to thank me for, little human. I got your back. Always.”

“I’m still grateful,” she pecked his lips, “and even if I don’t end up having a stand in the market, your support will forever be enough for me, Bucky.” She gave him a passionate kiss, trying to convey her feelings through it.

She couldn’t believe how lucky she had turned out to be.

How many human husbands would support their wives’ dreams like that? How often were women even allowed to think about doing something for themselves or being financially independent in this kingdom?

She slowly slid off her orc’s lap and down to the floor, making Bucky tilt his head.

“What are you doing, sweet thing?”

“You promised you would teach me,” she said, her voice small as she let her hands massage up Bucky’s thighs.

“Oh, you feeling brave tonight, little human?” Bucky asked lowly, eyes growing dark as she brought her hand to his cock over his pants.

She nodded even though she internally had no idea what to do, but she was trusting her desire and Bucky’s guidance.

“Get your orc’s cock out then,” Bucky instructed, making her pussy clench before her eager fingers started pushing his pants down, revealing his big cock to her eyes.

Her hands hesitated, reaching for his length before withdrawing and looking at Bucky for help, shifting on her knees.

Bucky got up from the chair and she looked at him worriedly, afraid she had turned him off with her reluctance.

He returned to his seat after a second, pushing the pillow he brought with him under his wife’s knees as he helped her get comfortable.

She smiled gratefully at how loving and attentive Bucky was. He had his cock out but all he cared about was that her knees weren’t hurting on the wooden floor.

Gods, she got lucky.

“You can touch me, sweet thing.” Bucky encouraged softly.

She mustered up her courage and finally let her fingers wrap around Bucky’s cock. Well, try to wrap around his cock.

He was too big for her to be able to wrap her hand around him and it made Bucky’s cock twitch, seeing how small her hand was compared to his size.

She couldn’t believe she had managed to take all of him in her pussy every single night for the past week.

She had to use both of her hands before simultaneously squeezing them around her orc’s cock like he had previously shown her; it was the only thing she knew how to do.

Bucky’s jaw went slack as he threw his head back at the simple touch, “move your hands up and down, little human.”

“Like that?” She asked as she slowly followed the instructions.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck yes,” Bucky moaned, wrapping his hands around hers, pumping himself harder with her hands.

She watched as Bucky closed his eyes in pleasure, deep groans leaving his chest and pre-cum the tip of his cock because of her touch.

She wanted to ask permission but her instincts moved faster than her mind as she cautiously let her the tip of her tongue swipe against the head of Bucky’s cock, aching to know what he tasted like.

And oh did he taste good; a bit musky, a bit salty and a bit of something she could only identify as Bucky. It was addictive and she wanted more.

Bucky jumped above her, his cock jerking in her hands as he opened his eyes at the tiny lick he felt her give his cock.

“Was that the wrong thing to do?” She asked, unsure of her moves, “I thought it was okay for me to put my mouth there?” she hesitated shyly, suddenly embarrassed of her neediness.

“It is. It is more than okay, my love. Please do it again,” Bucky begged, his hand coming down to cup her cheek, thumb stroking her skin adoringly as he brought her face closer to his cock.

He was sure she and her innocence were going to be the death of him, yet at the same time, he couldn’t wait to ruin her; make her his dirty little cock slut of a wife.

She tentatively let the tip of her tongue lick against the head of Bucky’s cock again, keeping her eyes on him.

Bucky groaned, his abdomen tensing as he felt himself already close.

He couldn’t believe how embarrassingly ready to burst she had managed to have him every time she touched him or as much as moaned for him. He could go for hours before, but with her it was like she knew exactly which buttons to press to get him drooling and leaking for her, and yet, she didn’t. Not at all, really.

She gave a bigger lick, letting herself savor her orc’s taste this time, moaning as she put her mouth on his tip, suckling ever so softly.

Bucky was huge and getting him inside her mouth like she felt she wanted to was going to be a challenge, but she wasn’t one to back down from challenges. Not anymore.

She was going to make Bucky feel good and she was going to do it with her mouth.

She could barely get the tip past her lips and it was already too much for her untrained mouth. Tears gathered in her eyes when Bucky involuntarily jerked his hips forward, making her gag on his cock.

“I’m so sorry, my love—” Bucky quickly pulled out of her mouth, worry written all over his face.

“Don’t be, Bucky. I— I kinda liked it.” She confessed, heat spreading on her cheeks.

“Oh, you liked choking on my cock, little human?” Bucky teased darkly as he pumped himself and she nodded shyly.

“Can I try again?” She asked, voice small and timid.

“All yours, sweet thing.”

She put her mouth back on the tip, feeling proud of herself as she managed to properly suck on it without her teeth getting in the way.

Bucky’s cock was so big and it was certainly testing for her to take another inch into her mouth but she did it, softly moaning on her orc’s length as she tasted more of his precum on her tongue.

“Keep using your hands, little human,” Bucky instructed, her mouth feeling heavenly on his cock.

She listened right away, her hands pumping up and down the inches she couldn’t yet fit into her mouth.

“Good girl,” Bucky groaned wantonly, “you’re so good for me, sweet thing.”

Bucky’s encouragement made her want to do better, to do more for him.

She pulled off of him for one second, taking a long breath as Bucky watched her with hooded eyelids.

And when she was ready, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, taking half of Bucky’s cock down her throat all at once.

“Gods, fuck!” He exclaimed, barely holding himself back from lurching over and shoving the whole thing down her warm wet throat as his hand flow to cup the back of her head.

She kept one hand on Bucky’s length as the other moved down to touch her own heat.

The sounds coming out of Bucky, his taste and the way his cock was making her drool as she choked on it were driving her up the wall with need.

She has never touched herself before and she didn’t know what has gotten into her as she slipped her hand down her panties, trying to imitate Bucky’s touches on her clit. Her fingers couldn’t compare, but she was throbbing, every sound that left Bucky’s chest vibrated in her clit; made her ache needily.

Bucky was turning to putty in her hands and it was the hottest thing she has ever witnessed.

She whined on Bucky’s cock and it made him open his eyes, realizing that she had now one hand only pumping him as the other disappeared under her dress.

“Are you touching yourself, little human?” Bucky chuckled breathily, making her whine in embarrassment.

Yet, her hand rubbed her clit even faster.

“Is sucking my cock making you all needy, sweet thing? Hmm? Can’t be around this fat cock without aching for it?”

She moaned in agreement, basically gurgling on Bucky’s fat cock as she forced herself to take another inch of him down her throat, making him grunt.

“Atta girl!” Bucky shouted in pleasure as he started to move in and out of her mouth, her allowing him to give her a little more of his thick cock every time he would slide back down her throat.

She continued breathing through her nose and circled her clit faster, feeling herself get closer to her release as her lower stomach tensed and tightened.

“Relax that throat for me, little human. There you go, good girl.”

Bucky was holding her head with both hands now, trying not to crane her neck back too much as he angled his hips just right for the tip of his cock to hit the back of her throat.

She gagged harshly and Bucky pulled out to give her a chance to breathe, “take your time, sweet thing. Doing so good for me,” he reassured, rubbing her back lovingly as she coughed and heaved.

“Again,” was all she said before she took his cock back in her mouth all the way down her throat that her nose was almost touching Bucky’s abs.

She let Bucky fuck her throat again, grateful for his gentleness as his balls hit her chin with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re too good to me, sweet thing. So pretty taking my cock all the way down your throat like that.”

Bucky knew the exact second she came as her whines hummed on his cock while she let her orgasm take over. Her jaw went slack in his hand and he took the chance to quicken his pace, chasing his own orgasm.

“Fuck, little human, you’re a natural. Taking me so well— ahhh fuck. Just like that.”

Bucky almost roared as he came down her throat, smirking appreciatively as he felt her swallow around him, spluttering a little as he slowly pulled out.

He couldn’t be prouder of how hungry for his cock he had managed to make his little human as he watched her swallow every drop she could before the rest of Bucky’s cum ran down her lips, chin, neck and dress, his cock still throbbing at the sight of her covered in his cum; willingly claimed.

She let her butt touch the pillow underneath her knees as her body sagged, gasping and trying to catch her breath.

Her jaw was hurting like a bitch but she didn’t care. She has made Bucky lose it with her mouth and her mouth alone.

She suddenly felt her face go hot as the hand in her panties reminded her of what she had done while sucking her orc’s cock. She took her hand out of her underwear, quickly hiding it behind her back as if that would make everything she just did disappear.

Bucky laughed, putting his pants back on before cupping her cheeks as he got down on his knees before her, “what did I say, little human? Never hide from me.” He took her hand out from behind her back and brought her fingers to his face.

Bucky obscenely smelled her fingers, closing his eyes at the scent of her before wrapping his lips around them, lewdly moaning as he tasted the remnants of her juices on them.

Her face burned up as her lust was sated, leaving shyness to gnaw at her cheeks.

“Did— did you like that?” She croaked out, her voice hoarse, as he finished sucking on her fingers, desperately wanting to change the subject.

“Oh, sweet thing, I loved it.” Bucky smiled, satisfied and amazed by her, “you almost sucked my soul out of my cock there, little human.”

She giggled, blushing.

“And you touching yourself while giving me head? Damn, sweet thing! Who would’ve known?!” Bucky teased, making her sigh and hide her face in her hands.

“No, no, little human, it’s a good thing,” he laughed, taking her hands in his, “it was so fucking hot.”

“Really?”

Gods, how were her eyes still so innocent after what she had just done to him?

“Really.” Bucky smiled, kissing her knuckles.

“Thank you for letting me do it, Bucky, and for guiding me,” she said sincerely before throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him as she released a happy sigh.

Bucky just couldn’t wrap his mind around how perfect she was or how blessed he was.

She was thanking him for agreeing to ravish her with his cock. Truth was, he was the one who should thank her every day just for being his.

Bucky, the half-orc, seemed to have found and claimed jackpot.

“Thank you, little human.” Bucky turned his head to kiss her hair, “thank you for everything.”

True to his word, Bucky had done everything in his power to make her dream come true. He worked hard to get her a permit from the kingdom for a new stall in the market, using his previous status in the army to get them to sign and stamp those papers as soon as possible.

He had also designed and built her stand all by himself, making sure to make her a smooth counter for her elbows and real sturdy shelves to hold her jam jars.

And he knew exactly what he was going to engrave on the sign for her tiny shop.

Meanwhile, she and Sarah were browsing the nearby markets to pick a fruit supplier with which she could be comfortable. They had managed to find a kind old man who always had a display of the seasonal fruits in his shop. His fruits were ripe and fresh at all times and they had come to a fair agreement regarding the prices and the monthly supply they would need him to provide.

Then it was time to shop for utensils and Sarah had insisted on dragging Sam along for that one because there was no way the two women could carry that much stuff on their own. He left Bucky to continue working on the final touches on the stand and reluctantly joined the ladies.

She was the happiest as she picked new pots and sauce pans with Sarah as well as the cute little glass jars she would need to put the jam into.

Her life was coming together and she couldn’t be more thankful for everything and everyone she had.

She had an amazing husband and supportive, kind friends; a little family to call her own other than the one that had abandoned her long ago.

The group tried their best to haggle the prices on everything because she didn’t want Bucky to have to spend too much, seeing that he had insisted on paying for everything.

“I’m not negotiating, it’s either the price I asked for or we won’t take anything from you!”

Her head snapped up, dropping the ladles she was browsing when she heard Sam ‘haggling’ with the seller.

She had found things here that she couldn’t find anywhere else and she really liked them. Why was Sam sabotaging her shopping plan?

She grabbed onto her favorite pot as she walked over to the siblings.

“Sam, what are you doing? I’ve already picked like a billion things,” she whispered to the man, afraid that he was ruining a good bargain.

“Watch and learn,” Sarah whispered back to her with a reassuring smile, “you’re right, Sam. Let’s go. Thank you, we won’t be taking those. You can put them back, thanks.”

Her mouth was wide open as Sarah forcefully took the pot out of her hand, setting it down and grabbing her, dragging her to walk away.

“Guys, what are you doing?” She scream-whispered as they kept walking, leaving everything that she had carefully hand-picked behind.

“Okay, fine, wait!” The seller called for them before they could get too far, “you can have them— I’ll give them to you at the price you wanted!”

She looked at the Wilsons with an impressed smile and they smiled back, raising their eyebrows simultaneously as if to say “told you so”, making her laugh.

When they were finally done with everything they needed, they had made Sam carry most of the bags as she and Sarah waltzed back to a more feminine shop.

When they were finally done, Sam wanted to run back to his and Bucky’s shop before they could buy anything else, but he was carrying way too many things so he only made both ladies laugh as he looked like a pregnant penguin hoping over to the truck.

“You look happy. Did you get everything you needed, my love?” Bucky asked with a chuckle as she excitedly wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek as soon as she entered the shop.

“Yes.” She nodded with a smile, pecking her orc’s lips.

“Were these guys any help?” He nodded to the siblings, teasing them.

“We can hear you, you know!” Sam yelled from the supply closet as he set the last bag inside.

“Sarah and Sam were great help.” She softly slapped Bucky’s chest, “I don’t know what I would’ve done without them.” She smiled at Sam gratefully before running to hug Sarah.

“Anything for you, bestie. I’ve been around boys for too long and I’m so glad I get to have a fellow woman around here now.”

She giggled as Sarah hugged her back, imagining how lonely it must have been for her to only be surrounded by males.

“Hey! We’re great company!” Sam said, waving a finger at his sister.

“Sure you are, Samuel.” Sarah nodded until Sam had turned his head away, “I swear if I didn’t work here I wouldn’t have forced myself to put up with all the burping and farting.”

She chocked on a laugh as both Sam and Bucky glared at Sarah before she decided to dissolve the ‘tension’, “okay, okay, let’s eat!”

She got out the food she had prepared for everyone, chuckling as she handed Sam his meal after he made grabby hands at the wrapped box.

“Bucky, leave it for now and come eat,” she called for her husband when he saw he was too busy working down a plaque of wood.

“Almost done, sweet thing,” he mumbled, still focused on what he was doing.

Bucky looked like a masterpiece with his hair back in a low bun and the tip of his tongue out, hanging on a tusk as he fixated on the work at hand.

She couldn’t help but walk over and wrap her arms around him from behind, lovingly kissing his back.

The orc stopped his movements, smiling when he felt her tiny mouth press kiss after kiss to his back.

He turned around to face her, encasing her in his strong embrace as he leaned down to kiss her sweet lips.

“Your food is gonna get cold,” she whispered against Bucky’s lips.

“Let it get cold,” he said before deepening their kiss, holding her by the back of her head to bring her closer.

“Some people are trying to eat over here!” Sam shouted with his mouth full as Sarah playfully made gag noises.

Bucky groaned as she shyly pulled away from his lips, making her laugh when he whispered “I hate you” to Sam.

Things at the market have gone exactly like Bucky has feared.

It was her very first day, her stand was in place like Bucky had put it and she and Sarah were organizing the jars on the shelves as the men watched them with scowls.

She tried her best not to care. The wooden sign saying “Sweet Things” on top was shining in the sunlight and with it her smile.

Everything was going smoothly until both she and Sarah left the stand for a minute to go get the rest of the boxes off of Sam’s truck.

It was just one minute but it was enough for those who didn’t want her there to make it known.

When she came back, her glass jars were all on the ground, smashed to pieces, the jam she had spent last night making staining the gravel.

She was speechless, hurt and confused at some people’s ability to be so venomous and mean.

She saw Cole holding as many jars as he could in his arms, sighing when he saw her, “I tried to stop them. I’m so sorry.”

She felt her chest tighten as her eyes welled up.

“Don’t let them see you cry,” Sarah whispered in her ear as she could see tears gathering in her lash line.

“I would never,” she replied strongly, setting the box in her arms down on the counter of her booth with a clenched jaw.

“Who did this?” She asked, her voice loud and powerful.

She got no answer so she decided to provoke whoever had done this into coming forward, “so what you’re manly enough to smash down jam jars, but not so much when it comes to owning up to it?”

“We all did it!” The man from the clothing stall shouted.

“Yeah, we don’t want you here! Women weren’t made to work!” The man from the key cutting stand continued.

“And who decided that exactly?” She yelled back to them, hands on her waist rebelliously.

“It’s just how the world works, sweetheart. Work just isn’t for women,” the man from the clothing stall replied with a challenging smile as he gestured to the broken glass by her feet.

“Oh, it isn’t? That’s weird! Because last time I checked, women worked their butts off all day long cleaning, cooking, and taking care of children at houses that aren’t even their own just to go back home at the end of the day and do it all over again for free while you sat on your lazy asses!”

Everyone stood there stunned, her response crushing them into silence. None of them could remember the last time a woman had dared use such a tone with them, let alone use curse words in her speech.

“But it’s fine when women don’t get to take the money for their work, right? Women can work as long as you receive their pay money each month, no? They’re allowed to work as long as their money isn’t their own and their dignity is kept under your shoes, aren’t they?!” She lashed out, surprising herself, Sarah, everyone around and a very impressed Bucky, who was standing at the end of the market as she let her voice get loud, talking back to men.

He just thought he would stop by, unable to keep his worry at bay. And when he heard the men’s voices get loud in her face, he thought he would intervene; defend her, but his little human didn’t seem like she needed any defending. Not one bit.

She was putting those assholes in their places all by herself.

“Lower your voice, woman! Or have you been around that savage brute of yours too much that you’ve forgotten how to properly speak?”

“Hey!” Bucky barked, stomping over to the man who had dared disrespect him and his wife, his fists already balling.

“Oh you’re gonna come for my orc now?!” Her shout stopped Bucky before he could punch the man’s nose off, “where were you again when my orc was fighting for this kingdom? Where were you when he took it upon himself to keep everyone here safe? Oh, wait, right! Sitting on your lazy ass!”

“How dare you talk to us like that? You think you get to be this audacious because you let a half-orc bed you?!”

“Watch your tongue when you’re talking to my wife,” Bucky snarled in the man’s face before she gently held him back.

“At least he knows how to take care of a woman!” She said proudly, “my orc is more of a husband to me than any of you pathetic wimps could ever be to your women!”

Bucky couldn’t help the warm smile replacing his scowl at her words. He couldn’t believe she was defending him like that, saying such words about him, in the middle of the market.

“He treats me like a queen. He has never laid a hand on me and when he makes me scream, he makes me scream for all the right reasons.” She growled, looking the rude man right in the eye as she stressed every word in the end of her sentence.

The man swallowed hard, her words clearly hitting him where it hurt.

She smiled victoriously, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a jam stand to run and if any of you as much as thinks of pulling anything like this again, my husband here will have the rest of the kingdom hear your screams for a change.” She warned fearlessly, her gaze running over each and every seller in the market.

“For all the right reasons.” Bucky promised, harshly squeezing the man’s shoulder in his flesh fist.

She giggled, nodding with a wide grin before walking to the truck to get the sweep she had packed beforehand.

“Now I know why you insisted on bringing that with you!” Sarah laughed in amazement.

She laughed with her best friend as they both walked back to her stand where a very proud Bucky was still standing guard.

It was sad that she had expected such actions; that she expected that someone was going to try and destroy her work, but she was still glad they did it early enough for her to set them straight. She now had a place in that market, and she wasn’t leaving any time soon.

Once she reached the booth, Bucky took the broom out of her hand and threw it to Sarah, settling his hands on her waist.

“Hi,” she smiled, finally able to properly greet her husband, slipping a loose strand of hair behind his pointed ear.

“Hi,” Bucky replied fondly, leaning her back in a tender dip, making her laugh before he claimed her lips in a passionate, lingering kiss in front of everyone watching.

They had lost themselves in the kiss so much that when they finally pulled away, Sarah had finished sweeping away the glass, Cole helping her get rid of the shards so that they wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Bucky grunted when he noticed Cole standing there, the man shivering under the orc’s intense gaze.

She squeezed Bucky’s hand in hers before giving Cole a grateful smile, “thank you for everything you’ve done, Cole. We appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me,” Cole blushed, “it wasn’t right what they did.”

Bucky snarled, teeth and fists clenched as he silently told the man to back off.

“I’ll— I’ll be by the flowers if you guys need me,” Cole said hastily, practically running out of Bucky’s face, the orc’s gaze following him until he was gone.

“Bucky,” she said, shaking his hand in hers, “he was just helping!”

“We don’t need his help,” he growled, still angry that another man was able to offer his wife help before him.

“I don’t and will never need anyone but you,” she told him, getting on her tiptoes to peck the orc’s frowny lips.

“Promise me not to talk to him again,” Bucky grumbled like a kid on her lips, refusing to let her kiss him.

She shook her head with a smile, “I promise.”

“No, say the whole thing.”

She laughed aloud, hiding her face in his chest, “I promise not to talk to Cole again. Happy?”

“Very.” Bucky finally smiled again, kissing her properly.

The next few days were very busy for both of them. She was trying to build herself a good name in the market and Bucky had this huge bulk order of chairs and desks for the new school. It didn’t help that Sarah was helping her with her jam stand because that meant that Sam and Bucky had to get everything done on their own.

She and Bucky barely saw each other all week, meeting only on the bed to exhaustedly fall asleep in each other’s arms at nights. They couldn’t even have breakfasts together because Bucky would be up and out way earlier than her.

Which meant he never saw her during her morning sickness.

And as much as she craved Bucky’s care, she was still happy in a way that he wasn’t here for the daily puke because that meant she could surprise him with the news she so bad hoped to be true.

She had told Sarah when it happened for the third day in a row, unable to keep her happiness or nervousness to herself.

She was probably pregnant, with Bucky’s baby. All the signs were there and she couldn’t be more contented.

They didn’t tell anyone, but today during lunch time, Sarah was accompanying her on her visit to the midwife just to make sure before she went ahead and broke the news to Bucky.

And when the midwife had confirmed hers and Sarah’s suspicions, the whole world couldn’t contain her happiness if it tried.

She was carrying Bucky’s baby inside of her. She was making a family with the orc of her dreams!

She was too excited that she wanted to just run to the shop and tell Bucky right away, but no, this had to be special. As special as the news itself.

And that was how she found Sarah and herself walking towards Cole’s flower stand.

“You’ll ask for them.”

“Why me? I’m not the pregnant one!” Sarah argued, stopping.

“Please, Sarah, you know I promised Bucky,” she whined, giving her friend the best puppy eyes she could pull.

“I’m sure Bucky didn’t mean that literally! He just didn’t want you flirting with the man.”

“Oh believe me, he meant it literally.”

“Still no.”

“Please, Aunt Sarah,” she begged, rubbing her flat belly.

“Ugh fine, but only for the sweet orcling inside of you!”

She giggled, giving Sarah a hug before they continued walking to the flower stand, “thank you, Aunt Sarah.”

“Good afternoon, Cole,” Sarah started, “we’re gonna need one of you freshest—”

“Mom!” A smaller voice called out, making Sarah turn around at once.

“AJ! What are you doing here, boy? Where’s your brother?” Sarah asked worriedly.

“He fell down— we were just playing soccer—” AJ stuttered, scared of his mom’s reaction.

“Where is your brother?”

“He’s at the infirmary. The doctor asked for you…” AJ replied faintly, his head down in shame.

“Oh my— I’m so sorry. I need to go.” Sarah told her as she ran with AJ out of the market.

“It’s okay, go. I’ll come with Bucky later to see how he’s doing,” she replied with a worried nod.

“So,” Cole broke the silence and only then did she realize that she has been standing there by his booth watching Sarah and AJ leave for at least 30 seconds.

“Oh— well…” She fumbled with her hands, not sure if she should talk to him.

She knew she promised Bucky, but this was kind of for Bucky too, and neither she nor Cole were flirting, so what was the harm?

“I need your freshest forget-me-not, please.” She gave the man her order with a polite smile.

“You got it.” Cole nodded before kneeling down to fetch her the prettiest, most alive forget-me-not plant she has ever seen, “how about this gal here?”

“She’s perfect!” She smiled, almost jumping in place because she could see Bucky’s face when she gave him the flower with the news she had.

She was too busy paying for her plant to notice Bucky watching her from a distance or notice him leaving at the sight of her smiling while talking to the one man he made her promise not to talk to.

“You came back early!” Sam commented upon seeing his friend reenter the shop less than 15 minutes after he had left.

“Yeah, couldn’t find her. Probably went to lunch out with Sarah,” Bucky lied, setting his packed food down before picking up his axe.

“We don’t need any more wood—”

“I don’t care.” Bucky stormed off to the lumberyard, ready to take his feelings out on the dead trees.

“Those chairs aren’t gonna make themselves ya know! I’m not a machine!” Sam yelled after him but it all fell on deaf ears.

Bucky was angry.

He just wanted to have a sweet lunch with his wife, but instead he was welcomed by a scene from his worst nightmare.

Did she do that all the time? How many times has she broken her promise to him? Was it because he was busy those past few days? He thought she was busy too; he didn’t know it could be affecting her that much…

But no. She wouldn’t do that. She promised him and Bucky trusted and trusts her.

Bucky shook his head as he stopped in his tracks, turning around as he flipped his axe in the air. He trusted his wife.

He wasn’t going to be that husband because they were not that couple.

When Bucky had walked back to the shop, she was there, waiting for him with her heart pounding in her throat.

He wanted to take the frown off his face, but he couldn’t do it fast enough.

“Where’s Sam?” He wondered, trying to hide his feelings.

“He had to go to Sarah and the boys. Cass got hurt while playing.” She explained in a hurry, the news she actually came for pressing on her.

“Bucky, I need to talk to you,” she said before she could change her mind, nervousness etched all over her soft features.

Bucky’s heart sank. Was she leaving him?

“I wanted to wait until we got home, but I couldn’t wait!” She smiled, eyes lighting up as she spoke.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t leaving him. She wouldn’t be this joyful about leaving him, would she?

“Is everything okay, sweet thing?” Bucky asked, becoming nervous himself.

She took his hand and led him to his chair before making herself comfortable on his lap with a bag in her own.

Yeah, she wasn’t leaving him.

“I wanna confess something first.”

“I’m listening,” Bucky said, his voice strained because he could guess where this was going.

“I broke my promise to you today, but only today, I swear. And I’m sorry,” she held his hand in one of hers, eyes begging him not to be upset with her, “I had to speak to Cole.”

“Really? You had to? Why did you possibly have to speak to Cole?” Bucky snapped, unable to control his anger.

“I understand why you’re upset and I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand to her heart, “I asked Sarah to do it for me, but AJ came and got her because Cass got hurt and so I had to ask Cole for this.” She brought out the potted forget-me-not, “all on my own”.

“If you wanted blue flowers you could have asked me and I would have planted millions for you,” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head.

He was happy that they had a healthy relationship where she felt safe enough to come and tell him about this, but he wasn’t happy with what she was telling him.

He could be a farmer!

“That would’ve been too late and too early at the same time.” She shrugged with a small grin.

“Little human, you’re not making much sense right now.”

“Forget-me-nots take from a month and a half to two months to grow. It would’ve been too late for me to tell you the news I got them to tell you and too early for—”

She got up and set the plant on Bucky’s desk before resituating herself on his lap with her dress up so that she was straddling him.

“It would’ve been too early for the baby to come.”

“What? What baby?” Bucky asked dumbly, his brain short circuiting at the news.

“I’m pregnant, my love,” she whispered, her eyes tearing up.

“You’re— you’re pregnant?”

She nodded, tears rolling down her soft cheeks, “I’m pregnant.”

“With my baby.” Bucky pointed to himself, making her chuckle.

“With your baby.”

Without introductions, Bucky pressed his lips to her in a kiss so passionate that it left her dizzy.

“Our baby,” Bucky whispered on her lips, cupping her cheek as he put his forehead to hers, letting his tears run.

Bucky’s flesh hand moved to caress her belly, “you have given me everything, sweet thing. Everything.”

“I love you, Bucky.” She wiped her orc’s tears before wrapping her arms around him, burrowing her face in his neck, breathing in his calming scent.

“I love you even more, little human.”

“We’re gonna have an actual little human soon and the name won’t be exclusively mine anymore,” she joked, chuckling on his warm skin.

“You will always be my little human,” Bucky told her seriously, bringing her gaze back to his, “we’re just gonna have a littler human.”

She laughed aloud as Bucky wiped away her tears.

“We’re gonna be so happy, aren’t we?” She asked with a big smile, her heart full.

“Yes, we are.” Bucky promised, sealing it with another kiss.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” she told Bucky the second they broke the kiss, making him smile like an idiot.

“Ditto.”

“Oh my gods, you’re so human!”

Bucky laughed with her before asking “forget-me-nots?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to forget about me between the hills of chairs and desks and they could also symbolize a sense of permanence, commitment, and familial bond. It was in one of the books you got me when we first got married.” She pretended to flip her hair away as she spoke confidently.

Bucky smiled, her words reassuring his heart more than she could ever know. She didn’t say when you first took me or when they first sent me, she said when ‘we first got married’.

She had fully, lovingly accepted Bucky and this marriage and it was time for Bucky to accept it all himself, too. It was time for him to accept that he was loved and chosen and cared about by this woman in his lap.

“I could never forget about you, sweet thing.” Bucky kissed her forehead, silently thanking her for way more than just a potted plant.

“I got you something else.” She rummaged through the bag, bringing out an amethyst male ring.

“What’s that one for?” Bucky asked, looking at her fondly.

“That’s for protection, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself while working again,” she told him with a smile as she slipped the ring on his flesh finger.

Bucky looked at her, all the love in the world held in his stare, “thank you, little human.”

He kissed the ring on his finger and after it her lips.

She loved Bucky and that was the only truth he needed to believe in.

Bucky loved her and that was the only fact that mattered to him.

She and Bucky were expecting their first baby and that was the only reality any of them wanted to live.

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wardenparker · 3 months

Note

Heeeeyyy. Congratulations on 2.5k followers. Great Milestone you got there just know we're all proud of you.

Anyways, can I request an angst fic from the propmts "Wait! Please don't go!" and "There is no 'us'." for none other than the slick cowboy, Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels?

I can wait. Thaaaanksss!

Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels. 1,373 words. "Wait! Please don't go!"/"There is no 'us'." (Warnings: angst) Co-written with @absurdthirst

The house is a disaster when he opens the front door. Making his heart drop and his instincts take over, reaching for the side of his hip even though his pistols aren’t there. He never wears his guns home. “Sugar!” He calls out, eyes searching and trying to make sense of the items strewn around.

If he follows the sounds and the trail of items that have been moved around and messed with, he'll find most of the commotion centered in the bedroom. That's where the most things have changed. Where they have been torn apart and not put back into any semblance of what they were before. Where the center of the heartache really lives.

“Baby! What the hell is going on?” He’s relieved to find you, bag opened and shit being shoved into it like you have thirty seconds to evacuate. He’s also confused as to what is happening. There’s been no alert, no word from Statesman.

"What does it look like, Jack?" You don't stop moving, spitting the words out at him while you shove some rolled up jeans into a travel bag. "I'm packing."

“Why?” His hat is off his head, a frown on his handsome face and his hands on his hips. “Where are you going?”

"I don't want to tell you that." If you tell him, he'll inevitably show up there in a day or two, and you might be weak enough from missing him to undo this stance that you're taking and come home to him again. Your mother said you could come home, so that's where you're going. Your old home. The home where you don't go crazy wondering if Jack is safe or what it is the two of you even are despite the fact that you've lived together for months now and been sleeping together far longer.

“Well sugar, how in the fuck am I supposed to accept that?” He asks, frowning deeply. “Talk to me. Everything was just fine and dandy when I left for work this mornin’.”

"Everything was not fine and dandy." Throwing the jeans down in anger, you whirl around on one ankle to face him with tears pricking at your eyes for only the fourth time today. The decision to leave wasn't an easy one to make, but you've convinced yourself it's for the best. "It hasn't been fine and dandy in weeks, but you refuse to see that. The issues don't magically go away just because the arguement is over, Jack. Or did no one ever teach you that?"

“We talked.” Jack defends, huffing. “What more do you want? We said our piece, what more was there? Did I miss something?”

"We talked but nothing changed." Angry steps seem to be the only ones you have in you today, and you storm across the bedroom to sweep your books off the dresser on the other side of the bed. Your side of the bed. Or it used to be. "If we have a fight because things aren't going well and we talk about the things we need to fix, then we actually have to fix the shit we talk about afterward." There are four novels in your hand, but you notice one of them is a Louis L'Amour novel -- one of Jack's -- so you put it back down and stalk back to your suitcase. "You never fix anything I ask you to unless it's a Honey Do chore. The apartment and the relationship aren't the same thing. Hell, I don't even know what our relationship is anymore."

“This is why you’re mad?” Jack sputters and then huffs. “Because I’m not jumping up and down to talk about my feelings?”

The books follow the jeans into the bag you are haphazardly filling, and you groan at the disbelief in his voice before facing him again. "Yes." You tell him flatly, hating that you let it get this far in the first place. "I'm allowed to be upset about the fact that you are never willing to talk about how you feel about me. I am entitled to be mad about that."

“I show you how I feel.” Jack manages to flash you a grin and waggles his eyebrows. “As often as you let me.”

"Jesus fucking Christ." The groan that rips out of you is downright angry, which holds well enough in line with how you're feeling that you don't bother to stifle it. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Right there."

“Sugar….” Jack lifts his hands, helpless as he realizes that you aren’t taking his little act as something cute. Not like you had before. “What do you want me to say?” He asks seriously.

You pause in your steps, sighing heavily and shrugging your shoulders with so much defeat that you feel like you might just collapse backward on the bed. "Nothing," you admit after a long pause. "I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to let me finish packing so I can go." As much as it makes your heart break, as much as you feel sick to your stomach, this is the decision that you've made. You can't give all of your love to a man who refuses to acknowledge that love even exists.

Jack’s brows pull down, knitting together and he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to go.” He admits quietly, a shiver of dread rushing down his spine as he hears the quiet finality in your tone.

"It's too late." A last sweeping look around the room says that you've packed everything from the bedroom that you care to. This room was last, and then that's it. You'll walk out of this place for the last time and battle with your regrets on your mother's couch for however long it takes. "Maybe the next girl will avoid having her heart broken for a little bit longer because of me, maybe not."

The panic, the fear that he has been avoiding when it comes to emotions starts to set it when you pick up the bags and start to walk out of the room. Jack waits for you to stop, to change your mind like you have before. Never actually going so far as packing before. “Wait!” Jack rushes out of the bedroom when you don’t turn back, don’t come back. He chases you down the hall and into the living room. “Please don’t go!” He begs, his eyes wide and worried.

There are a few things to gather along the way, but your car is almost full and you have your arms full when you pause in the front hall to turn and face him one more time. "Give me one reason to stay," you challenge, knowing you won't forgive yourself if you don't at least let him try. If you don’t give it one last ditch effort. You've been in love with Jack Daniels since the day you met him, but this is the last chance you're going to give him to disappoint you. Unless he's ready to actually say something about real emotions, you're walking out that door. "Tell me why I should."

“You belong here, with me.” Jack tells you stubbornly. “You’ve practically moved in and I’ve - we- we are good together.” Saying the words, truly saying them, has scared Jack to his core. Even with the boss ordered therapy. Afraid the world will rip away another person he loves if he says those words, so he doesn’t.

“If you can’t even muster up the words when I’m about to walk out the door, I think that just proves my point,” you murmur sadly, reaching for the door handle. “Have a good life, Jack.”

“Baby girl, wait.” He reaches out and takes your hand, heart pounding and he feels like he’s about to throw up. Swallowing harshly, he stares into your eyes, trying to say the words you want to hear. “But I have plans for us.” He promises seriously. “Big plans for us.”

“There is no us, Jack.” You whisper, hand on the knob and tears in your eyes. “Goodbye.” His hand falls away and his world crumbles as you walk out the door and out of his life.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Jack Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #microfic #angst #break up

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bethecliche · 1 month

Text

my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!original character

summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.

you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.

The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.

What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.

Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.

All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.

As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.

“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.

His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.

His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.

“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”

Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.

“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”

They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.

The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.

He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.

Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.

He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.

In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.

“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.

The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.

He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.

“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.

Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”

“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”

Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.

The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.

They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.

That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.

They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.

Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.

Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.

And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.

Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”

The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.

The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.

One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.

“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”

When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”

They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.

Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).

It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.

“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”

Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”

“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”

She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.

“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”

Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”

This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.

Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.

The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”

For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.

“It feels like my home.” She whined.

“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.

In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.

“Are you…”

“I want you to move in with me.”

The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.

In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).

The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.

“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”

“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”

“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.

There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.

Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.

It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.

“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.

Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.

He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.

"What?" He retorted.

“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”

Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”

Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”

Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.

The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.

There was no other answer than yes.

The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).

Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.

“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.

“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.

He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.

“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”

Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.

“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."

#vincent renzi #swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #fluff #i scrobbled this song 102 times to write this #my love mine all mine #vincent renzi fanfiction #vincent renzi x original character

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ilys00ga · 6 months

Note

can i request a fluffy first kiss drabble with yoongi? like reader is inexperienced with dating and other stuff. Reader feels like this is gonna be disappointing for him and they get nervous whenever they're in close proximity with him. He's sweet and just trying to show his love. After some time he thinks maybe reader doesn't have an interest in him like he does with them. He asks directly if they think of him in a romantic and more intimate way at all. Everything turns out okay he understands and comforts the reader

pairing: yoongi x reader.

genre: fluff, just pure fluff with some silliness bcuz we all need to be silly.

warnings: this made me miss yoongi even more so, beware, in case you miss him just like I do.

A/N: thank u so much for this req! I just realised that it's slightly different than what you've requested, but I hope that's okay and that you enjoy reading regardless <3. You're very welcome if u wanna request more stuff or just reach out to me.

PS. English is not my first language, so u know the drill.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

to a person whose only romantic experience was that in books and movies, meeting yoongi was like jumping off of 4 stairs at once as a child, scary but so damn exciting and fun. it was like picking up a book in a language you've been trying to learn for while, full of complex for a beginner like you.

it took you some time to get used to his presence in your life. to him. it's not like you didn't enjoy it, it was far away from that actually, but he was your first, after all.

the two of you hadn't been official for that long, though. after many moon cycles of pining and awkward, shy interactions, it all bloomed at once, and suddenly, you officially got your first boyfriend.

you were planning to go on a proper date, after the previous one had miserably failed (a tale to tell for another day), only for it to be met with a heavy rain storm. yoongi ended up apologizing, and offered you an indoors dinner, some cuddles and a movie for the night.

after finishing your meal, he held your hand in his and led you to the living room, where he had prepared a cozy setting with snacks and wine.

he noticed the way your body tensed every time he initiated any kind of physical connection between the two of you. at first, he didnt think much of it, assuming it was because just the beginning of your relationship. he was also well aware that you've never dated anyone before, so it was only natural for you to be awkward with that.

he really understood. after all, he himself wasn't a fan of skin ship and was extremely shy as well. he almost always tried to initiate it for you, because of how caring and loving you are towards him. you always took care of him, something he's very grateful for. and so, he made sure to remind himself to show you that he does with those little gestures of affection every now and then.

but then, he started noticing more frequently. everytime he attempted to hug you, hold your hand, peck your face, or even those two times he almost just leaned in to kiss your lips—but stopped halfway. and each time his worry reaches the tip of his toungue, waiting to be spilled in the form of a question, he always ends up letting it slip when you quickly brush it off and comply to whatever he wanted to do.

"thank you for the dinner, it was really good." you said, watching as yoongi's face lit up with a grin. his hand affectionately ruffled the top of your head, a habit of his that you've grown fond of the more often he did it. suddenly, he reached out for his phone, tapping a few buttons and a soft, slow beat rode the air of the room.

dropping his phone on the sofa, he put his left hand out and asked, "may I have a dance with you, darling?"

chuckling, you nodded and intertwined your fingers with his.

he pulled you in, chest flush against his with his free hand resting on your waist. then, he started swaying both of your bodies to the music.

"you're welcome, darling." he replied, kissing your cheek. he sensed your body tensing again, this time your fists tightening on top of his shoulders, and he hummed.

"I would very much like to kiss you right now."

eyes widening, you froze in your place when you heard his whisper. you felt your cheeks burning up. it took you off guard. your brain struggled to figure out what to say or do next, so you just stood there and stared at him. it's happening.

in books and movies, first kisses are that thing that everyone gets to experience at one point in their life, but not everyone gets to enjoy it. and right now, thinking about the possibility of yoongi not liking your first kiss is not helping calm your nervous system at all.

"can I..?" he pleaded, eyes never leaving yours with a tiny hint of a smirk appearing on his face.

"i- I've never done this before, I don't wanna ruin it for you and-" you stuttered nervously as you averted your eyes. the change of the atmosphere was starting to feel way too overwhelming for you, and all you could think about was how he'd feel like once he realises how bad you are at this.

"hey, look at me." once again, and with a very gentle voice, yoongi whispered. his finger gently rested under your chin and lifted your head. his eyes, ever so caring and tender, soothed your nerves down. you swallowed what remained stuck in your throat of concerns.

"it's okay if you've never experienced this before. and I'm not gonna force you to do it, now or any other time, if you don't want me to. but I really would like to show you just how amazing it feels, so please allow me to do so." he added.

you took a deep breathe in and slowly nodded. even though you've been together for just a couple of weeks, you love yoongi, and you trust him. you know he's never gonna do anything that's gonna end up hurting you in any possible way, and you've always been thankful for how respectful and thoughtful he is.

"o-okay..." you finally agreed, giving him his much desired green light.

"okay." he smiled, "let me ask again. Is it okay if I kiss you right here and now?"

"yes, please.."

like a kid that finally got permission to open his first birthday present of the day, yoongi leaned in and gently met your lips with his.

the first kiss was not like that of the movies, it was light and short. yoongi pulled back, eyes finding yours again as to make sure nothing went wrong. it took you a moment to regain your senses again, but you smiled sheepishly after a few heart beats, reassuring him that everything was fine, and he leaned in again. this time, he pulled your body closer to his, one hand gently holding your wasit and the other cupping your jaw.

he did all the work, and you just stood there with your eyes closed, focusing on the warmth of his skin against yours. he realised that you weren't sure where to put your hands when your balled up fists clenched on his sleeves, so he gently guided them to the back of his neck.

it all felt so new, so refreshing. your stomach felt so funny, and your heart beat so fast against your chest. the sound of heavy raindrops landing on the window, along with the music that's still playing in the room, was distant. all you could feel was his chest against yours, his lips pressing against yours. his hands gently holding your face and his fingers caressing your cheeks.

shortly after, you tapped his shoulder in panick as it started getting harder to hold your breath in.

yoongi pulled out, face inches away from yours, and panted, "I'm sorry. got caught up in the feeling of your honey lips."

looking at him up this close, he looked so pretty. red tinted cheeks and cherry plumped up lips. you suddenly really wanted to kiss him more. your face flushed a deep, rosy red at that thought.

chuckling, you hid your face in both of your hands and crouched down.

"hey, relax. it's okay." yoongi chuckled softly and crouched down next to you, running his hand down your back and lifting your face, "you're so red, are you alright?" he teased.

you whined and hugged his torso, hiding your face in his chest.

"was it that bad?" he continued to joke, giggling as he enjoyed your reaction.

"it was amazing, I loved it a lot." when you lifted your face and looked up at him, he saw your eyes sparkling with joy, and perhaps some gratitude. yoongi leaned down and kissed your forehead.

"how'd you like your first kiss, my lady?" he asked, and you hummed.

"thank you, you're literally the best. I don't deserve you."

"don't say that. you deserve the best. I cannot believe I've waited this long to kiss you."

you chuckled, "it's only been two weeks, yoongi."

"and what about it? have you seen yourself? your lips?!"

you slap his back playfully, giggling at his dramatic silliness before looking back up at him, "I can't believe I've been anxious about it this whole time." you pouted.

"it's okay, darling. it's all new to you. today, it's a kiss, tomorrow, something much better is coming your way." he chuckled.

"yoongi!" you slap him again. perhaps, this time with a little bit more of strength to emphasize your exclamation.

#yoongi #bts #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts yoongi #bts army #yoongi imagine #min yoongi #suga fluff

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singmyaubade · 1 year

Text

warning: cursing

cheating!boyfriend!james x female!reader

you opened the door to the empty charms classroom where your boyfriend had detention. you gasped, seeing your boyfriend and your best friends sister kissing.

"y/n." james said, already raising up.

anger, sadness, surprise, disgust.

multiple emotions engraved your entire body.

you were stuck in a trance, not being able to fully breathe, not knowing which emotion to act on. you could cry, hit him, yell at him, but none of them seemed right.

"y/n, look at me baby." james said, holding your shoulders, trying to make you look at him.

you looked at him, glassy-eyed.

"baby," he swallowed, "i swear it's not what you think at all." he tried to calm you down but you just couldn't breathe in this moment.

"what the fuck." is all you said.

you looked at your best friends sister, izzy evans. what angered you even more was that it was the sister of a girl he once loved. a girl he once imagined his whole life with.

"baby, let me explain to you what happened." james reasoned, trying to keep your eyes on him.

"fuck you." you spat, turning your heel, storming off into the hallway.

"y/n please." he ran after you, trying to touch your hand.

"james fleamont potter, i don't want to fucking hear it." you snapped, pointing your finger at him.

you knew he had never seen you so angry.

in fact, you guys never fought. your relationship was pure and loving, only having an argument when needed. every problem, you would make sure to talk it out and you gave him your all.

which is why it was so hard to stomach that he cheated.

now his eyes were teary, "i can guarantee it's not what you think, you can't believe that i would kiss her," he rationally said, "i love you."

you couldn't tell if he was being genuine which only rubbed you more the wrong way.

"is this the only time you guys have ever done anything like that?' you asked, willing to forgive if you knew this was the only time it had happened.

he looked guilty, "we have had a few incidents before,"

you scoffed, moving past him to your dorm.

he quickly moved in front of you, "but, i swear, i never went too far."

"good fucking job, you didn't got too far with your mistress, you asshole." you sneered.

"because it was a crush, we both had a little crus-" he explained, realizing his slip up at the end.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you asked.

"baby, i'm sorry, i didn't mean it." he said, kissing you but you pushed him roughly.

"you had a crush on her? a crush on the girl you loved for most of your hogwarts enrollment's sister?" you fumed, "get the fuck away from me." you moved past him and he didn't chase after you.

you were so angry, not knowing where to go.

you didn't want to go to your dorm and have to explain to lily evans, your best friend of seven years, that you caught her sister and your boyfriend who used to be in love with her kissing.

it wasn't fitting.

you just wanted to erase you and james off of this planet. you didn't wanna calm down and talk, you wanted to destroy everything that existed of you two.

so you were going to.

you stormed to the gryffindor common room, going up the stairs to the boys dormitory. you knocked three times, not harshly but just enough to get notice.

sirius opened the door, an red apple in his hand that were shaped by two bites.

"oh y/n, im sorry to tell you but loverboy isn't here yet." he said, jokingly.

you could tell he didn't know anything because he was acting how he usually did and if he did, it would be dramatic because it was sirius.

"i know!" you smiled, "i just wanted to wait for him in here." you said uppity as you usually did.

"alrighty." he said, leaving the door open for you.

you closed the door behind you, "hey y/n." remus said, reading his book in bed with his glasses.

"hey remmy." you greeted with a smile, "how are you?"

"good, how are you? everything alright?" he asked, noticing your smile was cracking.

"fine actually," you said, "just fine."

"okay." he said, not knowing if it was the truth or not.

"do you guys know where james's broom is?" you asked, "he's gonna do some late night practicing?"

"without me?" sirius groaned.

"he wanted to show me a few of his tricks." you smiled.

"well, its right under his bed." sirius pointed.

"thanks." you grinned at him.

you grabbed the nimbus one-thousand fifty-five from under james's bed. you admired the wood of the handle, running your nails along it.

you then grabbed it by the broom part and used it swipe all of the pictures of you and james on the ground which startled sirius and remus.

"y/n!" remus yelled, taking off his glasses.

you ignored him, smashing james's broom on his desk, trying to tear it in half. when you failed at that, you dropped the broom and grabbed the snow globe that you gave him for christmas and smashed it on the ground.

sirius was now slowly trying to move over to you but a part of him was scared.

you grabbed a picture of you and james that was moving, you kissing him on the cheek.

you remember that day like no other, valentines day. james had got you your favorite cake from kowalski quality baked goods. one that usually took months to aquire due to how popular the shop was.

you took in the picture one last time before smashing it to the ground harshly.

that's when remus decided to intervene.

he grabbed both of your hands and hugged your back, putting his arm on your collarbones.

"let me go remus." you said, crying.

"it's not worth it." he whispered in your ear, "whatever it is, it isn't worth it."

you sobbed, holding onto remus's arm.

the door opened and you knew it was james, you didn't even have to look.

before james could say anything, remus said, "sirius take her, i'll talk to prongs." he instructed.

"wait," james said before remus cut him off.

"you don't wanna have this conversation now, trust me." remus said.

remus let you go as you crumbled to your knees and sirius rushed over to you, making sure you were okay.

remus walked outside to james and you couldn't hear what they were saying. all you knew was that you were heartbroken and had no idea what to do.

"come on y/n, please get up," sirius pleaded, not wanting the glass to cut your knees.

"why did he like her?" you sobbed.

"you know prongs is stupid," sirius sighed, "he's not the smartest and that's not an excuse but i think sooner or later, you should really find the root of the problem."

you sniffled, "i never knew you could actually give good advice." you joked.

"well, i think the destroying of the objects in this room has opened my eyes." sirius laughed, "let me clean this up."

you nodded, stepping off of the glass, hissing because of the cuts on your knees.

"after i clean this up, i'll help you with the cuts." he said as you nodded.

you watched as sirius performed several charms and spells to clean up the mess and fixed the fixable objects. after he fixed what he could, he tried his best fifth year taught healing skills.

"thank you sirius." you looked at his eyes.

he smiled, delivering a kiss to your head before going outside to talk to james and remus.

after what felt like several minutes, the door opened and closed. you looked behind you to see james and you both kept eye contact.

you both didn't know what to say for a while, it was as if both of you had forgot all of the words of the human language.

james cleared his throat, "i wish i could tell you something that could fix everything and make us go back to normal but i don't know what to do." he admitted, "i regret what i did to you, it will probably be my biggest regret."

"i know." you said, teary-eyed.

your eyes had burned from crying so much.

"i don't know if we can fix this," you admitted as his mouth opened, "if you are having enough doubts to like another girl, i don't think we should be together."

he moved in front of you, going on his knees, "y/n i love you so much, more than i ever will love anyone else," he pleaded, "just let me prove it to you."

you put your hands in his, "i'm not trying to be cruel, i know we both love eachother but," you exhaled, "i can't be with you if when you hurt me, i feel like this." a tear fell down your cheek, "it's not healthy for either of us."

"please." his voice cracked.

"jamie, we have to let each other go." you calmly said.

"don't leave." he croaked.

your response was a kiss to his cheek before you got up and headed over to the door, not wanting to keep talking about the same thing.

it might not be the last time you guys have this talk but it was enough for you for now.

#james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #hp #hogwarts #harry potter #singmyaubade #tw mature #toxic!james #toxic!reader #james potter x you #marauders x reader #marauders

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captjprice · 4 months

Note

What about ghost with an s/o who's just as stoic and closed off (mostly with strangers but more open than him in a relationship) as he is and always looks so done with everything, mostly quiet and only gives one word answers or no answer at all, sarcastic or gives a side eye when someone makes a stupid comment and has a dark sense of humor but they're actually very sweet and gentle once you get to know them???:)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

A/n: I am finally getting to requests ugh

Mentions: fluff, sfw, Simon is scared shitless by romance, angst(?????), but not really

Intimidated wasn't really the word Simon would use in this case, because Simon Riley did not get intimidated.

Yet, he felt a bit odd seeing you. He wasn't sure what to think of you. All of the others in the taskforce were like an open book— So open and friendly, so unlike him. And then there you were, cleaning your gun with an expression on your face that told everyone to promptly fuck off.

Price had noticed you weren't.. falling in the group that smoothly, just like Simon hadn't at first. He assured everyone you were a delight to work with.

Simon wasn't so sure of that, but still, he decided to join you, cleaning his gun as he sat down next to you. Kyle was rummaging around as well, eyeing you. "You two look extra jolly today," he snorts. You don't reply, only looking up at him with a glare. He seems to understand the message, clearing his throat and giving nod. Simon raises a brow, glancing over at you.

He wasn't sure why, but Simon was so incredibly intrigued with you— you barely spoke, and when you did, it was the kind of comment only you could laugh at, and occasionally Simon too. He didn't really notice it himself, but everywhere you were he wouldn't be far behind, trying to start conversation.

It was uncanny, how badly he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know everything about you, while ofcourse keeping himself at a safe distance.

The bar has flooded empty, leaving only you and some other taskforce members in a quiet booth. It's another late night of celebrations, and you, for once, haven't drunk yourself wasted. You gaze over the booth, watching the other men laugh, occasionally patting each others arm or back.

But Simon also seems to be sober, watching over the others with an almost tired look in his gaze. When your eyes meet, you give a soft smile. The others won't remember much of the evening, let alone you smiling at someone.

Your sudden expression makes Simon's eyes widen a little, especially because all you've been up to now was an isolated grump. He shifts, then gives a nod. When your eyes don't budge from him, he stands, awkwardly shuffling past the others to sit down next to you. "Awful lot, aren't they?" He asks gruffly. You give a nod, sipping your drink and clearing your throat. "And I thought it was bad when they were sober." You say, smiling. "Well, believe me, it can get even worse than this. This is only when they're tipsy." His words make you let out a hearty chuckle, and he smiles in amusement at it. You're not as half as bad as he thought you'd be.

"I have a feeling by the time they're completely drunk, I'll be at home nice and warm in my bed." You state, giving his arm a slight nudge. "Why's that? Not into celebrations?" Simon asks, his eyes focused on you. You shake your head. "I only drink if I want to be miserable." Now it's his turn to laugh, even though it's only a quiet chuckle.

That evening replayed in his mind, you had been so friendly, so approachable that he was wondering why he hadn't talked to you earlier.

"Hard at work, I see." You retort with a little chuckle, watching Simon gaze at the wall with unfinished reports in front of him. He clears his throat, looking at you. He'd get so lost in his head sometimes..

When he doesn't respond, you step closer. "You okay, Simon?" Your voice is so soft now, nothing compared to how you'd bark orders or remark comments sometimes. He gives a little nod, trying to ignore how his chest aches at your sweet tone. "Yeah." Simon glances at you, seeing you holding coffee. You'd made it a habit over some time now to bring him some whenever you could. "That for me?"

You nod, setting it down. "You should take a break, Si." The nickname makes him perk up. "Just not my day today. It's fine." Somehow, you don't really believe him. "Are you sure? I'm here for you. I'd like to think we're friends. Friends do that for eachother."

You're being too sweet, all of a sudden. What happened to you glaring at him, rolling your eyes? He shakes his head, waving you off. "It's fine. I have work to do."

He comes back to his barracks that evening to a little note from you, slid under the door with your number and a little heart on it.

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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sanctus-ingenium · 4 months

Note

I’m really inspired by your world building and the creatures you use. I’m trying to kickstart my own world using Celtic, Norse and Scottish myths (it also involves werewolves because they’re cool)

But I’m stumped and a bit overwhelmed. How’d you start your project and what were huge sources of inspiration for you as you worked on The Black Horse?

hi there!!! this will probably get wordy i have a lot of thoughts on this but here's how i built up my inver setting

i had the characters first, and the werewolf establishment was basically the first thing invented about the world. I wrote a decent amount about the characters in the pre-1st draft slush pile just getting a handle on their voices, their history together, etc. the first slush draft was in painstaking chronological order telling of their lives from birth to like age 40 - it wasn't pretty to read but it meant I knew what big moments formed their worldview, their relationships with others, things like that. and then i got to pick and choose which ones would feature in the actual 1st draft, and which i would leave unsaid, in flashback form, or only in the form of vague allusions. the plot and world events changed significantly as i wrote the actual 1st draft so this ended up only being useful for backstory stuff and not book plots, but it was still good to have.

There was an important moment of a character being kidnapped into a faery realm, which is what started me off thinking about fairies in general. they weren't originally a part of this world - it was an undefined space before just for the characters to exist in, because i was (and still am) more interested in the characters than the worldbuilding. but i still like for there to be SOMETHING there in the background, and it gives a lot of opportunities to inform characterisation, so i started to make my setting. I picked the Púca as a pivotal being & major inspiration source to include because of its relatively large presence in the fringes of my childhood in stories told by my older relatives and i like the unusual aspects about it as well, how it has been both heroic and malevolent in different stories. you have to remember i grew up in this culture too, i knew a lot already, and that's what got me thinking of alternate Earth history - as in, the setting of Inver as alternate history, not wholly original fantasy set in a fantasy land.

So then I had to think about the implications of that, and here is where I think a lot of authors adapting extant mythology fall short. A world where faeries/mythological monsters/gods based in real cultures exist and people interact with them is indistinguishable from our own. We already live in a world where people interact with faeries in their own way; I've heard many older relatives recount stories of being trapped in their fields by faeries, how you can only escape by taking off your jumper and putting it back on inside out. There was no question as to whether they believed this was a concrete, meaningful interaction with a supernatural being. We have a motorway that was diverted while it was being built because the builders didn't want to risk cutting down a hawthorn tree. There is a deep stigma against harming hawthorns. Now, tell me how things would be any different if faeries were real irl? ftr I do not believe in the supernatural whatsoever, not even a little bit, but it is impossible to deny that I live in a world deeply shaped by it - I need only look out the window at the stands of whitethorn around my house to know that. because the main expression of that supernatural element is in how the people of that culture react.

you cannot, you cannot pick and choose only the monsters from a legend and leave behind the people who made & propagated that legend. you're only taking a single thread from a rich tapestry. I'm not arguing that other cultures should be untouchable, far from it, I'm just saying that to truly appreciate it, you need context for everything you adapt. you gotta know what you're writing about

in that sense, the people are more important to building Inver than the faeries. a citizen of Inver not immediately affected by the main plotline would likely never see or interact with magic in their lifetime, but their society is still shaped by it. so is mine (though that's more on the catholic church than anything else)

So now that I'd had that realisation, I decided to dump a lot of the traditional fantasy tropes I'd been working with. Think basic fantasy setting stuff, pop culture "The Fae" tropes, even the terminology of 'Fae' at all - that is not something I've ever heard the older generation in my life call them. It's just 'fairies' to them (although I did shift the spelling to match the Yeats poem because I could not handle writing characters making accusations of being A Fairy and have it not come across as a unintentionally homophobic accusation lmao). I did some research; mostly on JSTOR, using my institutional access, because my own university is mostly science and didn't have a big library of anthropological texts. I read An Táin Bó Culainge which is honestly one of the greatest stories of all time PLEASE READ IT if you are at all interested in Irish myth. It is a fantastic story and extremely comedic as well (a canon mmmf foursome lol). In terms of academic sources specific to the Púca, I have a drive folder of pdfs I will share with anyone if they ask.

I decided I was not going to include anything from what people actually think of as pre-christian Irish mythology - no fianna [rangers notwithstanding], no Ulster cycle, no Tuatha Dé, no Irish gods. All the things I include are post-colonial aside from the notion of the Otherworld in general. This decision wasn't necessarily accurate to what might have happened in this alternate history (given that christianity still has no real foothold in Inver) but it is a colonised society after all. It's why I got slightly steamed once when someone filed my Púca art into their irish deities/irish polytheism tag (I have my own issues with iripols/gaelpols for the same reason I dislike people taking myths out cultural context and in this case contemporary cultural context), because the Púca is in fact a postcolonial being - it comes from the UK, and likely the mainland as well

One of the last things I did before starting on my 2nd draft, which is what turned into Said the Black Horse, was decide to always capitalise the word 'Púca'. Because what really clicked from doing my research and remembering what I'd heard as a child was that the Púca is a specific character. Not a species, not a class of monster. A character, one guy. And you'll find this everywhere - the obvious example is the Minotaur being one specific guy, the son of Minos, not just 'a minotaur'. One very funny consequence of speciesifying mythological characters is dnd ppl saying their character is A Firbolg (fir bolg is plural!!). Fantasy bestiary books like Dragonology or Spiderwick Chronicles have done some amount of damage to how people relate to myths and legendary creatures, and I am not immune as someone who loves speculative biology, but in Inver I decided to cut all of that out.

Next once I got that out of the way I had to think about tone, atmosphere, and intended results. I didn't achieve my holy grail of a very atmospheric, undefined, and uncertain story that provides no answers, due to limitations in my own abilities, but I tried. I have given less than 1 second of thought to how magic or faery biology in Inver works because that is not conducive to the atmosphere of a fairytale. Many of these source myths and legends are really about the fear of the unknown. They are rationalisations to explain away something unknown, some mystery of life, and you cannot explain the unexplainable and expect it to carry the same punch as the original myths that you are drawn to adapt. That's also why I try to never actually give facts about fairies, but instead I talk about what people think of them. The word 'considered' does some insanely heavy lifting in that linked post lmao. Is any of what I wrote true with regards to the Red King?? It is for the people who believe it.

I'm saying all of this because these are all points I had to think about before writing that 2nd draft, but also because I think they're worth considering for your own story as well. I'll admit I invented my werewolves from scratch, they have no mythological basis, because they pre-date the faery stuff and also I wanted them to fill a very specific role and appear a little more concrete than the other supernatural elements. It is what it is; I wanted a werewolf element that didn't match myths and legends (and honestly was partially inspired by me rolling my eyes about those posts going around moaning and whining about 'the doggification of werewolves missing the point of werewolf stories'. I thought, well, there's more than one story you can tell with a werewolf - it isn't always 'i fear the beast within', sometimes it's something else! sometimes it's daddy issues! it's okay to make something new)

ok i think that's all i have to say.. modern Inver is a bit different, that worldbuilding is largely the same but with a big dose of actual ecology because the main characters are rangers and in Inver in 2017, rangers mostly do environmental monitoring. and that's a whole different sort of worldbuilding lol

good luck with your story!!

#me about to write literally anything: this will probably get wordy #mvf #setting: inver

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tarjapearce · 9 months

Text

Bad Teachings (Pt. 6)

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Strained Relationships, Anxiety, Abusive Parenting, implied emotional breakdown, awkward emotional distress handling, Awkwardness. Tension, comfort. Mild fluff.

Summary: Lost wars can bring the most unexpected of comforts.

Hope you like ✨

Pt. 7

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated 💕

Feel like this song is perfect for the chapter:

------

Fingers were about to type a reply but stopped. What use would be?

Ignoring him seemed the best option, your head had wasted enough energy in his antics, your brain had gone kaput when trying do decipher him. This is what you've gotten in return. You looked around, your little world. It couldn't be unbothered with external things, it was your fortress. The only place you allowed yourself to be you.

Annoyingly fixated into get a knitting technique right, collector of nail polishes, silly socks with passive self deprecating messages embroidered on them, face masks and beauty products; lingerie that was too pretty to not have even though, you'd flaunt it to none but yourself, a whole file in your phone of you in boudoir looking pictures was the proof.

A sucker for tragic romances, an avid exotic food consumer, and by exotic you'd mean the middle eastern all you can eat buffet located a couple blocks away your building.

Fan of feminine looking shoes but wouldn't turn down a camping day, and get muddy even, get imperfect. Humanly flawed instead of presenting yourself to the world as an 'expensive doll' as Hobie had called you.

Of course you liked to dress up, but to do it every single day had turned into a task, like any other adult thing around you.

A sigh of yours merely filled in the place before going to sleep. You wouldn't go to Miguel’s, a trip to knowing a new place was far more interesting than dealing with whatever was bothering him. A bit of regret for offering previous help cocooned into your head.

----

The biological clock in you, got you used to wake up at 7, made you to rose from bed, put some of that new international blend coffee you had bought yesterday to simmer; then you'd move to clean up the little mess in the kitchen you had done last night: a plate, a fork and a strawberry printed glass.

You then organized your toiletries in the bathroom, and began a strict yet short skincare routine. Washing face, moisturizing, and sun blocking. Then you went to the closet, something you had promised yourself to always organize once you had the time.

You went for a pair of palazzos, a ruffled skirt and some pointy flats, but changed your mind last minute, and rather picked a brown jacket, black joggers, sneakers and a turtleneck shirt. Comfy for a day of walking around in a cool day.

At eight you had eaten breakfast, and if it wasn't for the door knocking, you could've washed the dishes again and probably take a shower. Momma standing in the doorway screamed a whole new plan. Hide or run.

"M-Mom."

"Hey baby." She hugged your surprised form and made herself at home. You held her purse as you closed the door.

"I-I was gonna call you yesterday but some stuffs just showed up and I forgot." The words rushing out of your mouth.

She cleared her throat and you snapped to put the purse next to her.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"A bit of coffee would be great"

Nodding you went to the kitchen, a tight and uncomfortable knot coiled tightly in your stomach, anxiety was just warming up.

"I see you're still having a hard time adjusting to this new... place." She observed as her eyes toured the livingroom. Your college books although lined up in the corner, still were in the floor along some other items. Like a small potted cactus and a collection of old DVDs.

" Oh... Im... just busy. That's all." You offered the cup of coffe, she took a sip and scrunched her nose. You just stood there, at lost on what to actually say. It was rare when they paid you a visit in college, and even then their stay were only a couple of hours.

"Too strong." She hummed in disapproval and your eyes casted away .

Here we go...

"You have some... interesting neighbors. Just saw a young man that I'm sure that wouldn't pass an airport check up for the many piercings in his face."

Your expression faltered at her sneering, a bit of frown in your eyebrows.

"He's a good person."

"I didn't say he wasn't darling, a little bit more of... normalcy wouldn't hurt him."

Your eyes darted away from her, your face now solemn.

"Uhm, I don't wanna sound rude but-"

"You have somewhere to go?"

"Yes. I... I actually do."

"Oh? Didn't know you had gotten yourself some real friends "

Your lips pursed, trying to keep her comments at bay.

"I'm working on it."

"I'm sure. I mean, pen pals don't actually count since you can't hang around-"

"Mom."

She sighed and pushed the cup away. Your cue to retrieve it, like the coffee had offended her greatly.

"A little visit at home wouldn't bad for you, you know? We miss you."

We sounded pretty much a one sided word. You put the cup on the sink, not truly wanting to engage into her game.

"I promise to visit as soon as I can." The flatness in your tone could be tasted miles away

"That's what you said two months ago, sweetie."

"I wasn't having as much free time as you think I am, mom. There was this new campaign... and I was ontop of it." you back still facing her.

The fortress shook.

"Ah, honey. I know your job is frustrating and quite busy, but a little hello mom, I'm fine. Can I stay for weekend?, wouldn't harm you. Just look at you, it's okay to be an stress eater, but you have to keep your mouth in check."

The stab was dug deeper. Your fortress was now crumbling.

"You know I worry about you, right?

What a fucked up way to show it.

You just nodded, dread creeping up your face as she pushed a strand of hair behind your pierced ear. You flinched, it was still tender.

"What is that?"

"Nothing. Just something stupid-"

She cupped your cheeks softly and you froze, she took a long and dispraising look at it as she sighed.

"Jesus, it's just a stupid piercing! Don't worry about it."

You pried yourself away from her touch, like her hands had burnt you.

She frowned

"Anyone with a respectable reputation in your workplace could see you not fit-"

"Not fit for what, mom?" Your fingers pinched your nose bridge. Anger simmering below the surface.

"You are meeting important people, honey. You can't go around looking like that. You must look-"

"Perfect." You nearly seethed the word, "I know."

You poured the coffee on the sink. She just watched you for a second. Your hands scrubbing the lipstick stain off the cup furiously she was surprised that the thing didn't break in your hands. She just sighed and grabbed her purse.

"If you want, I could help you getting this place-"

"I'll take care of it." voice firmer than you had intended to.

Her eyes remained on you for a bit too long and then she nodded.

"Call us, okay?" You opened the door for her, eyes refusing to meet her.

"Love you, cupcake"

"I know."

The words bitter tasting in your tongue as they rolled off. The door closed and your fortress was in shambles.

Your mouth exhaled a shaky and almost whimpering breath. You needed to escape, your little world had been compromised and you weren't sure to stand the emotional chaos that was left. Everything you had built was now on the floor, just like your overall mood.

Normalcy? Stress eater? Perfect? You were sure none of those applied to you.

The battlefield had alot of your hurt and blood sprawled all over it, your face was still smeared by a forceful and imposing touch that was devoid of kindness as the knife she had plunged remained deep in your chest.

You didn't know exactly where this attitude and perfectionism had came, but ever since you had turned into a certain age, she'd give little comments here and there that would eventually lead you to your current state. Fucked up, yet moisturized. God, you couldn't wait to be home again and cry your hearts contempt.

Laughing almost bitterly at the realization that you now had to schedule your emotions accordingly. At least you still felt something. And right now, you just wanted to go back to bed and cry, the battle hadn't reached your safest spot, something you were grateful for.

Heart pounded miles per hour, chest constricting and head spinning made you support at the kitchen's sink. Pain pricked your eyes, but a still rational part of you grounded you with a deep exhale. You showered and got ready. Filled in your portable mug with coffee and left.

You had bought a little blt sandwich in the way, you parked and blinked away the stubborn tears that refused to leave without being shed. Patting a bit too rough your cheeks you took the mug, secured the car and went up the elevator.

Nervousness too preoccupied with it's own business to show up, a subtle anger had taken over. Miguel's doorbell was rang.

You looked at your phone's clock. 10 am.

The door opened and you were met with a surprised then a mild furrowing glance. His mouth went ajar but quickly shut it. The words he intended saying, died before anything as he studied your face. Nose a bit red from the previous sniffling.

"Come in." He'd mumbled and you entered, making your way to your work spot as last time. To your surprise his place looked a mess. Some clothes sprawled on his couch, a couple of dirty dishes on his sink, Curtains drawn in, place felt heavy and fusty.

"Go to the living room."

"Same as last time?"

"Pretty much, Yeah." He'd notice the metallic coffee flask on your hands. There was no coffee for him this time.

"You hungry?"

"Already had breakfast. Thanks." You went to the living room and began working. You were avoiding his stare as much as you could, any contact really.

He sat on the couch as you were already organizing files. A million questions popped up in his mind. Why had you stopped messaging him? You seemed unbothered by that, but rather hassled by something else.

Your pouty lips, set in a neutral line, eyes way too gone in a place he couldn't get permission to access just yet, your movements smooth yet void of the remarks you'd do of his work. There was no information sharing, no feedback. No praising from your end. Just silence.

He exhaled and focused on his share of files. You were usually the one that started the little conversations between the both, but after those two weeks of silence from your end, he would expect you asking him the why's and the like. And not that he'd remain silent. He had a valid excuse.

He'd be jumbled up in a room with a new working team as you were messaging him, all of them made noise, noise as in irrelevant ideas and complaining about the new upcoming project but none really offered solutions. He had been annoyed, greatly. His anger was misdirected and now he was neck deep in this predicament.

"Are you angry?" The question itself was stupid, he knew much, but it was the only sort of conclusion his million dollar brain could come up with.

"No." A half truth, "I just happen to have my own problems too." Snappy. He raised an eyebrow to you, genuine confusion on it.

"Besides, I'm just rolling with what you said"

What he had said? The only interaction you had was the text... Oh. Realization hit him like a gloved slap on his face. He went on your message log and reviewed the conversation again.

—That pretty much sums it up

I see—

Fuck. You had taken his words at heart and had just left him be. An apology, that's what you needed, so maybe the heavy and dementor-like aura that irradiated from you would dissipate. What had happened? Cause anything that would make you come here, instead of being somewhere else, had to be grave enough to force yourself in this situation with him.

His belly grumbled after a couple of hours.

"Feeling hungry?" You shook your head

"Got my own lunch, thanks."

Another ammo wasted. His eyebrows knitted together a bit deeper. You were almost done with the first file.

"You should eat."

"I'm not hungry yet." At least you were talking. Barely glancing his way but talking. He ordered some food and finished his file.

He could do it on his own, really, the I need help sort of thing was just a bait to see if you'd still be around. These two weeks had been draining and antsy for him. At first he thought nothing of you, maybe you got busy as well. But as the silence kept stretching, things just spiraled between concern and vexation for him.

Concern because it was usually you the one that most, if not always started the little conversations between the both. They weren't precisely both ways, he also noted, mostly of him replying to whatever random question you'd pop him. But engaging completely, it was only when you were face to face, and even so, he'd still keep you on the surface.

And then, the vexation of the sudden realization of you growing tired of him, for real this time, had sent him reeling into over thinking when the answer you gave him was pretty simple.

I'm just rolling with what you said.

And still everything he had to do was to text back. Yet he didn't.

The fact that you could adapt easily on his words made him both impressed yet again, concerned. You took things at heart. He had to be specific and clear when it came to communicating with you. Great.

You weren't precisely a parrot around him, but the silence you could devote yourself was quite out of your amiable persona. You were snappy, teary eyed, closed off, shut down. You had definitely came here in order to escape from something.

A boyfriend? The thought made him chuckle inwardly, so far what you had told him about yourself quickly erased the idea. Of course he'd listen and pay attention. He just didn't know exactly what to pry from you. He wasn't making an effort in keeping you around either.

Meaning, that he'd always act aloof and detached around people that would eventually leave his life.

Assumptions, really.

He didn't know when that would happen and he was already making sure to severe ties. Coping perhaps? He didn't even know. All that he was certain of was that you weren't yourself and that was partially thanks to him.

His mouth was about to speak when your hand put a strand of hair behind your ear. Three hooped earrings adorning the upper lobe. And by the redness around each pierce, he'd say it was recent. Was this how you faced your problems? Inflicting pain on yourself?

He frowned.

"That's new." Uncertainty just pushed him into a brash mode that eventually would lead him into lash out when cornered. And right now you were leaving him with little options

Your eyes trailed to him, as he gestured over his ear. The piercings. Right.

"Did it yesterday."

"Does it hurts?"

You shook your head as you went for the other file.

"Hobie is a pro at it."

Hobie?

His eyes squinted trying to remember.

The punk guy you had for a neighbor, of course. It was a little too cliché, perhaps.

"Why three and not just one?"

"I wanted to, alright?"

You snapped and he held his hands in defense.

Jesus..

You sighed and shook your head.

"Sorry, just... Nevermind that. Can we focus on working, please?"

A clear I don't wanna talk about it. Or more like I don't wanna talk.

"Sure."

-----

Your phone buzzed as you were transferring the files to him. The name

' Lucio Work' displayed on your screen.

"Excuse me." You stood up from the floor and picked up the call.

From what he could see, you were tense. Arms tightly wrapped around you, like shielding yourself from anything that would hurt you further. Your back turned to him.

"No, it's fine. Really. Will check that up as soon as I get home." Your voice flat, absentminded as you focused on the floor.

"Right. Bye."

A deep sigh.

"I must go."

"It's fine, you finished early anyways."

You stared at him, waiting.

I'm sorry.

His eyes sized you. His lips trapping the apology, and that only made your hands tighten in fist briefly. You picked up your flask and the half eaten sandwich. This time you made sure your tools were with you.

"Guapa..." you felt anything but. You needed air, space even from the suffocating feeling on your chest. And needed it now.

"I-I gotta go." You hands fumbled with your belongings as you rushed to his door. Escaping. Again.

"Wait-"

You were gone. His hands were placed on his waist. There was no apology, but a wider rift between you. He sighed again, for the umpteenth time. He had fucked up.

----

Entering home felt returning to the aftermaths of a lost war. Cold empty space, the drip dropping of the kitchen sink was the only thing that made an effort to acknowledge your arrival. You pulled out the remnants of the BLT and ate just the bacon, discarding the soggy rest.

Your head pounded. Miguel’s eyes popped in your mind. He looked like he had the apology on the tip of his tongue, but pride was bigger than him. Expectations were set incredibly high only to be crushed later. It was the cherry ontop of a messy cake.

You made your way to your bedroom to transform yourself into a more comfy appearance. Hair pulled up in a messy bun as you removed bit by bit your clothes, leaving yourself naked before the mirror.

Flawed.

Your hands explored, prodded and touched your skin. The feeling of unpleasant textures under the pads of your fingertips made you turn away from the reflection. Baggy and comfortable clothes covered them.

Your night ended with the usual meal prep of the week, and of course you finally organizing the closet.

-----

You didn't call your parents. Instead just focused on the screen before you, typing bemused at information you knew by heart. Another brief, another little campaign to create.

Another day, the silence kept stretching on both ends. Your situationship with Miguel certainly offered more questions than answers. Like you had been threading carefully around him, unable to access to a different sort of level With him, it's what he allowed you to see. But you, had also just showed him what you let on.

You were even. And still, you didn't give in. Just shoved the telephone back in your tote bag, without realizing his chat's name appeared as "typing".

Your day went uneventful, unaware of your raging inner turmoil, not that it mattered anyways. The time and world had never stopped over broken hearts or minds, why would they stop now?

Lunch felt stale despite you adding a little vinaigrette to the salad you had packed. It's what you would be eating for the next five days.

You went home around five. The place still in hypothetical shambles from the previous encounter with a boss out of your expertise. You were yet to fix so many things. Some stuffs that would probably still in boxes ever since you moved in.

You changed once more in a humble appearance and pulled out the packaged furniture. Appetite was mess, you had ate, but it set heavily on your stomach.

Bit by bit you started to unpack and pull piece by piece. A little bag of screws and a screwdriver fell out of the rectangular box, along the user manual.

It couldn't be that hard right?

----

Two hours of pure nothing. Your fingertips were sore by the pressure you had applied on the screws, only for it to be assembled in the wrong way. You kicked it away from you. Angry tears just bursted from your eyes.

The user manual crumpled and thrown away somewhere. You curled up in the floor, face hid between your arms and legs.

Why you were so stressed? why you weren't perfect? Why you struggled so much to stand your ground against your mother? Why wasn't Miguel a less complicated guy?

Why? Why why?

You were tired of the whys and the little to no answers they provided you. You dreaded the call your angry mother would do in a couple of weeks after not hearing from you again. You dreaded the campaign not being as successful as your other ones. You dreaded the next rent payment. You dreaded to cry to yourself to sleep again, cause there was none to bask in your misery with, but yourself.

The knowing yet still horrifying conclusion that you were irrelevant in people's lives, didn't help at the hopelessness feeling that was nesting on your chest. You had always been that unremarkable NPC that just minded her business and let life happen around her.

It was sometimes of your wonder what kind of person you would've been if some things would've displayed different for you. Would you still be an expensive doll? Would you still work in a fancy world that the only term that actually applied to it was shallow?

You braced yourself.

Numbness spreading through.

But of course, only for tonight since you had to offer your best smile every day. It was part of the looks.

Your door was knocked.

Caked tears were wiped away the best as you could, as you made your way towards it. A little rustling from the other side. You sniffed and opened the door. Eyes widening at the person behind it. Miguel.

Mahogany eyes seized you, a painful twist in his heart at the sight. You were a complete different person from what he was used to see. Unkempt, wet shirt probably from the tears you had certainly been crying, puffy eyes, swollen lips and nose. A shirt his size probably, hiding the body he had already tasted twice.

Your lip trembling made him swallow.

"May I come in?"

His voice soft. He held a brown paper bag in one hand and his lab coat and ID in the other.

You wiped your eyes before letting him in. His scanned the place. Half assembled furnace thrown hapzardly on the floor, screws and other tools rested in a bag. A few holes on the cardboard packing, like you had stabbed the screwdriver through it. You sat in the further wall, resuming your task of picking up the fallen smaller pieces.

Sidling through the living room, he stopped at the couch. He put his lab coat on it and then pulled the paper bag closer, his feet took him where you were.

"Why are you here, Miguel?"

Your words held no malice but pure curiosity although your voice was deflated.

"Here." He offered you the paper bag. He saw your hands hesitating, not that he blamed you though. But eventually you accepted it. He had to bend over to place it on your hands.

"It's for you." He breathed as his arms rested at his sides.

You pulled a small golden box with a colorful arrange of macarons, colors that matched your color aesthetic. Red, browns, white, blue and of course black. A little piece of paper tucked in the left.

Sorry

The words scribbled by himself. His penmanship was usually hurried and doodle like, something you had noticed from the annotations in the files you had helped him with. But this seemed different, he had taken his time on it. Legible and solid.

He studied your face, so far there was nothing that gave out any sign of hostility. Just pure surprise and of course, sadness.

"Though you'd like it." He cleared his throat, "I... owe you an apology"

Hearing the words from his mouth only made you blink at him, face flushed by the constant burn in your eyes, lower lip quivered, bloodshot eyes, to finally let fat tears roll down. He tensed.

You didn't like it?

His hands fisted and relaxed as you cried, unsure to make a much more personal approach. He pushed a couple of pieces of whatever furnace you were trying to assemble, away from his path and soon, he crouched to finally sit next to you. His frame engulfing the space.

"I'm sorry. All I had to do was to text back, right?"

You nodded through a hiccup. Then wiped your face.

"Here." He offered his handkerchief as he reached for the crumpled user manual.

"Leave that. I'm not doing it." you croaked, trying to find a steady tone in your voice

"It's kind of the same one I have."

Sighing you just shrugged and let him. Your knees supported your arms, as your chin rested in one of them, the other one, was above your head. Like a self comforting gesture.

"I was... in a meeting. A pretty fucking annoying one, when you texted."

Your eyes darted to him, but stared back at the wall. Matching your current mood. Dry and dull.

"I know work is your main priority, I shouldn't pester you either. I wasn't giving you the silent treatment. Felt the opposite really. So I just... stopped reaching out"

His lips gave a weak chuckle, to then disarm what you had done with the furnace. Your words were simple, yet pithy. Miscommunication was the culprit. And he had encouraged it to get this far.

You remained quiet, fixing your glance in the red macaron.

"At first I knew you were busy too. But... then the silence kept going. Kinda reminded me when you suddenly vanished those years ago."

"Im sorry too. Shouldn't have been so... upset and snappy at your own home"

"I caused it." He shrugged

"Partially. I didn't want you to think I was clingy or somehow desperate."

He shook his head with a stifled laugh.

"You're good company too. But guess I just read wrong between lines, like usual. It's... stupid really. My bad for that" you rubbed your temple.

"What are you talking about?"

"I... thought that I was making you uncomfortable or that you were annoyed"

His head shook.

"Trust me, is more like a me problem than anything. But no. It wasn't that"

"The reason I started messaging you really was cause, you're nice to talk to. I mean, sure you take a lot of time, and barely speak, but you aren't... a complete idiot. But then you sent that last text"

You chuckled as he begun assembling the shelf.

"Not the best idea I've had so far." He secured the base.

"May I know what happened before you showed up?"

You stared at him, a bit taken aback that he'd notice such thing.

You groaned and shook your head.

"Mom happened."

His eyebrow quirked but just nodded. Not prying further. You focused on helping him, the little shelf slowly coming to life. A little of your shambled fortress, restored and fortified.

"I hope that piercing your body doesn't turns into a habit"

"Oh?"

"There's better ways to let it out, that's all I'm saying" You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"Relax, I had wanted to do this ever since I was in college."

"Why now though?"

"Saw the chance, took it." you shrugged

"Quite impulsive"

"It was that or give myself a pixie cut"

His eyes were on you and you sighed

"Of course I am joking."

Not even you were that convinced.

"What about hobbies?

"I have some. Well, started one recently. Knitting is calming. And I've been wandering the city, looking for new places"

"Get me the other bag, please"

Your tears had subsided, your hand gave him the bag full of more screws and little rubber lids to prevent sliding, still, there was a bit of heavy aura hanging in the air.

"Do you have any hobbies, Miguel?"

"I guess"

"Like?."

"Reading. How come you've been wandering the city alone?"

"It's... cathartic. That's what I've been doing these past two weeks. I... I wasn't showing up on Sunday actually, but again... Mother happened."

"Do you wanna talk about that?"

"No."

A way too quick response.

"Maybe... later or in a future." You sighed and watched his hands work.

"Family is complicated" He grunted as he secured the last bits of shelf's final part.

"Loving them is... overrated" His eyes snapped at you, a knowing yet silent nod on his eyes.

He stood and helped you as well, then, pulled the shelf up. It was bigger than you had actually anticipated, at least one thing was out of the way and you wouldn't have to bend over to pick up your books anymore.

You begun organizing them. Your living room was small. A single L couch stuck to the wall, a window on the bottom wall, sparse furniture, a TV stand with no portraits of yourself or any family really, and now the shelf that was being filled in with things. The door at the bottom was your bedroom he supposed.

Compact, yet cozy. It suited you.

He went through some files, pictures of your previous work campaigns on his hands. Quite profesional looking. Of course they had to be, it was your job to create these sort of pieces, a little understanding of why you always looked straight out of a magazine came to him.

A job requirement. And of course you'd accomplish that to a t. Kinda reminded him of your college years. Unremarkable socialité, but good at what you were studying for. The pictures reflected it.

He took another file and saw little Polaroid format printed pictures. It was all the places you had visited so far. The pictures gave him a little glimpse of things you enjoyed. You weren't one for too strict routines, You could adapt, but still would need a little spark to keep yourself grounded.

Wandering the city was like an anchor for you. Tea bars, bakeries, a thrift shop that surely had some characters in it. The liqueur shop. And of course, Hobie's workplace.

He could recognize the bakery's desserts. It was the one he got your macarons from. One was missing from the box. It made his lips curve softly.

"You have talent."

You blinked at him as he went through more folders of pictures.

"Oh... thanks?. I really enjoyed that class"

"You should publish them."

"Can't do that, they're confidential until a campaign is ready to be launched. You aren't supposed to be even looking at them actually. Might open a photography profile though, just for fun." You shrugged as you accommodated your reading books.

"You like it?"

"Yeah. I'm more invested in the knitting though"

"How's that going?"

"I'll get there." your lips mumbled.

You then offered a canned soda.

"I know this place." He pointed at the pictures of the bakery.

"Oh, yeah, they're good." You put the DVDs in a different shelf.

"They have these delicious mini cakes called petit fours. But I stay with Julien's Potions."

"What's that?"

You showed him the pictures of the Tea bar. His eyes scanned the images with mild amuse.

"Is it good?"

"Very. The mango muffin is just heavenly"

"Would you like to go?" He stared at you, voice gentle, just as his face.

You looked up at him with big eyes. A little spark of excitement in them. Finally the heavy aura dissipated.

"Are... Are you sure? I mean, your work is demanding and-"

"After work, guapa. We can go."

"Really? I... don't want you to do this out of... pity or anything. It's fine, really-"

"Im not."

"Promise?"

His eyes softened at your smile.

"Te lo prometo." (Promise)

-----

Taglist:

Apologies if I forgot someone (For some reason Tumblr won't let me tag some of you :<)

@jkthinkstoomuch @queenofroses22 @del-lightfulling @katitakenway @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplumpurin @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #bad teachings #t writes✨#spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #Spotify

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