#as a useless girl i hope people really do feel this way in life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auras-moonstone · 2 months

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Hello!!! Hru?! I hope your doing great!

I don't know if the requests are open but i know you're a swiftie and 1989 tv just came out and "Slut!" really reminds me of Jack, so could you do a story inspired by it? Just reader being famous (actress/singer, whatever you think fits) and she is being all love-sick by meeting and dating jack? And she even buy that "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" t-shirts?

I hope you get my request and i love your writing!! You are the best <3 (And what's you favorite vault track?)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ slut! — jack champion

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.9K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: jack champion x actress!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n has to deal with the reputation that has been set on her by the media as she falls in love with jack, her co-star and best friend.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: mentions of slut-shaming. friends to lovers. instagram posts. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hiii! <3 thanks for sending this request! when i heard the lyrics “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” my brain just screamed JACK so i agree with you! and my fav vault tracks are slut and say don’t go <3

ever since y/n started working as an actress, the media has been merciless with her. maybe it was because despite having been in the industry for just a few short months, she was already working with remarkable directors and successful and iconic franchises. media had always had the tendency to bash successful women, and y/n was fully living that experience.

the point was, she didn’t want to give the media more things to trash her for, so she stayed unproblematic and silent. and yet, regardless of all that, they had managed put a reputation on her that was far from the truth.

y/n was kind and had a unique vibe. every co-star spoke highly about her and the media always managed to twist this by painting the picture that she was a “serial co-star dater.” it happened to her with every single movie or show she worked in, and people bought it blindly. the name-calling became part of her every-day life, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t affect her.

she swore she would never make the media be right, and so she set a strict rule—never ever date a co-star or be extra affectionate with them. it was a sad way of living, setting boundaries that were useless because reporters and haters always found a way, but she just wanted to do what she loved. she wanted to be remembered for her good acting and not for who she dated.

but then jack champion walked into the set, with his cringy yet amusing dad jokes and contagious smiles, to turn her world upside down. everything was so natural with him y/n didn’t even notice the way she started ignoring the rules until the scream filming was nearing its end and the thought of not seeing jack as often anymore made y/n’s chest hurt as if her heart was being ripped out.

and then the questions ran through her mind—what should she do? should she act normal, as if realisation hadn’t drawn on her? should she confront jack and ask if there was something more than friendship between them? or should she start putting distance before the feelings got deeper?

what she didn’t count on was that she didn’t need to say anything, jack was not only observant, he also knew her like the words to his favorite songs. he noticed how her head was up in space, how she seemed to be always deep in thoughts, distracted. something was consuming her mind, and it was driving jack insane.

“you’re acting weird. what’s going on?” jack finally asked her, pulling her aside on set. right behind the trailers where no one could bother them.

y/n tensed up. “what? nothing.”

“please, don’t play dumb. if there is someone you can’t fool is me.” jack said firmly. he missed his y/n, the girl who brought him comfort like a cozy warm blanket. “i miss you.”

“i’m here.” she said breathlessly.

“but are you?” he accused her. “something is going on, and it has to do with me.”

“what makes you say that?” y/n asked nervously.

“because you’re especially tense when i’m around.” he said sadly, and it broke y/n’s heart. her mind has been a mess, and she was unconsciously hurting jack. “did i do something wrong? please tell me, we can talk about it.”

y/n shook her head and before she knew it she was breaking down. jack didn’t hesitaste to pull her in. “i’m the problem. i’m sorry.”

“shhh, it’s okay. i’m here. don’t worry about it now, just take a deep breath. we don’t have to talk about it now, i’m here whenever you’re ready.” he spoke softly, rubbing her back slowly, to try and bring some calm.

they both sat on the ground, backs resting against the trailer. jack held y/n’s soft hands tightly, hoping it would give her the comfort she needed. he had never seen her in such state, and he was concerned.

“it’s nothing bad… i guess. it depends.” she said, reading the expression on the boy’s face, which grew more confused by her words. “i realized some things a few days ago, and they have been occupying my mind. i don’t know what to do with this. no matter what i do, it’s going to change things so i might as well be completely honest.”

jack nodded, pressing his lips on the crown of her head. “not going anywhere, y/n/n. no matter what you say, i can promise that.”

“you know the reputation that precedes me, right? i’ve told you about it.” jack frowned but nodded. “because of that, i’ve set this rule, that i wouldn’t let myself be affectionate with my co-stars. and i have sticked to that rule, until you.”

a knot formed on jack’s stomach. “so it’s about that? you want to put some distance?” god, he hated this. he hated to think about not being able to hold her, but he would give it up if it meant he got to keep her around.

“that’s the thing, jack. the reason why i have been acting so unlike me is because i’ve been trying to convince myself that putting distance would be the wise decision. but… if these days have proven anything is that it would be ultimate hell.”

“why didn’t you talk to me?”

“well, to be honest i was thinking what i should do. you just beat me to it because you know me better than anyone else.” she smiled and jack mirrored it. “that’s… that’s not everything i realized though.”

“okay, go on.”

“when the countdown to our last day on set started, i got this horrible feeling on my chest. the first thing that ran through my mind was that we wouldn’t see each other that often anymore and i felt this hole in my chest… it’s more than just missing a friend, jack. i would feel empty because i like you and you’ve become my person.”

jack’s jaw fell open and he was close to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. the times he has dreamt about this scenario… it felt too good to be real.

“but…” she continued. and reality hit the shore, putting an end to his short-lived hope. “i’m scared of what people might say. it’s still hard for me to not let what others think get into my head, and to even think about the hate that might come your way if we dated, makes me sick.” she shook her head and then her eyes widened. “my god, what am i even saying? i just assumed that you liked me back, i didn’t let you talk. god, this is embarrassing i’m so sorry.”

jack cupped her cheeks. “y/n, y/n, stop. breathe.” the girl nodded and closed her eyes until she was breathing normally again. “okay, now listen to me. if you’re not ready for a relationship, that’s fine. but if it’s because you’re scared of the hate comments towards me, let it go. i don’t care about them, i just care about you. okay?”

“yes…”

“good. i want to be your boyfriend, and if you’re not ready because of what the media might think then i have an idea.” y/n’s curious eyes look up to meet his. “i really like you, too, y/n/n. we can date in secret, to see how things go, and whenever you’re ready, we can tell everyone.”

“jack, that’s a lot to ask to you…”

“you aren’t asking me anything. i want to do this. i want to call you mine so bad—in secret, in public, however you want.”

y/n smiled through the tears. “are you sure?”

“one hundred percent, y/n. never been so sure about something.” he reassured her.

y/n couldn’t even recognize herself. two months ago she had been completely against the idea of being in a relationship and now she was utterly and unquestionably love-strucked.

she used to think she was doomed to being lovelorn because of the restrictions she had put in her relationships with other people. and now, there she was in bed, feeling lovesick just because she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in two days.

though those days helped her make the decision. the relationship between them was beautiful, it was a safe place, it was her main source of happiness. jack was everything to her and she was tired of loving him in the dark. he deserved to be loved out loud, in plain sight. she knew she was going to be the one to pay the price, but it was fine.

“you know there’s no rush, right?” jack assured her for the hundredth time. when y/n told him she wanted to make their relationship public, he remained calm (even though he was jumping on the inside) and sat her down to think it through.

y/n smiled widely. how could she not fall for him when in a world of boys he was a gentleman? “i love you, and if they call me a slut… you know, it might be worthy for once.”

“i love you, too.” he pulled her in for a kiss. “okay. let’s do this.”

“okay. i’m just warning you, i truly believe in the slang go big or go home.”

jack eyed her suspiciously. “spill.”

the girl smirked mischievously and went to grab a bag. “i made us special shirts.”

“lord save me.” jack sighed when he took the shirts out of the bag.

“you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” y/n said

“you know i’m going to, anyways. like i’d ever be able to say no to your pretty face.”

enchantedliv um, just bumped into y/n y/l/n and jack champion 🥺 they were wearing matching shirts that pretty much confirmed their relationship ????

landrysghost what did the shirts say??

enchantesliv “i ❤️ my girlfriend.” and “i ❤️ my boyfriend.” THEY ARE SO CUTE AND WERE SO SWEET😫

user1 are we really surprised? that girl dates everyone she works with.

user2 he’s too good for her.

user3 she’s going to dump her once she meets her next co-star for sure lmaooo

user3 y’all are so jealous lmao. acting bitter just because you want him, that’s her only crime. there has never been any proof that she dated previous co-stars.

liked by jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, baileybass and 878,913 more.

y/n.y/l/n hi everyone! this is more than me saying i’m taken by the most gorgeous and kindest man on the planet. this is also me getting something off my chest. been wanting to for a while, so here we go!

since the beginning of my career i’d told myself to stay unproblematic which i mistook for never fight back or defend myself.

the media always said i dated too many co-stars—even though that’s completely false. i’ve never dated anyone i worked with (until now)—, so i set this stupid rule for myself: try not to be too friendly with my workmates. i was so scared of proving the media’s rumours right that i built this shell around me, never allowing myself to fully connect with people. and then, a couple of months ago i met jack. he made me forget about those limitations i so foolishly put.

i’m done giving anyone the power to hurt me. i’m done letting people think it’s okay to shame a woman for who they date or not.

i’ve been in a dark place for a long time, and i never noticed until my person walked into my life and showed me daylight. i’m doing better than i ever was now. i’m never staying silent again, i’m going to defend myself, my relationship and my boyfriend. always.

that was all for now, thanks for reading.

ps. i love you, jack. all i need is you <3 thanks for being the best boyfriend, best friend and person in the world.

jackchampion so so so proud of you. this brought tears to my eyes not gonna lie. you’re the sweetest ever i love you 💌 thanks for the shirt, by the way, matches my personality!

y/n.y/l/n you’re so silly😭 i love you more and intend to be cheesy forever 🫶🏻💖

jackchampion certainly no complaints from me!

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion oneshot #jack champion imagine #jack champion fluff #jackchampion #jack champion fanfic #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fic #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry scream #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you

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theemporium · 4 months

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Mayve something cute wjere butterfly doesn't feel well but tries to hide it from Carlos to not worry him? And poor boy gets all worried.

enjoy some wee pre-marriage carlos and butterfly! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

As it would turn out, hiding how you felt from your boyfriend wasn’t easy when you worked for the same team.

Usually, it was a blessing. When you started working full-time with Ferrari and travelling the world with them, any hope of having a normal relationship went out the window with your weird hours and constant travelling around the world.

But then Carlos happened. And it was like the universe worked in some weird ways to give you the most perfect person who would understand your schedule because his was even more hectic.

Yet, it only made it worse in moments like this. Carlos was a driver, and not just a driver but also for one of the top teams. He couldn’t afford to get sick, not when they were actually having a good season for once. You couldn’t afford to be the one to get him sick even if every part of you wanted to just be held by him, you couldn’t let yourself be selfish.

When you flew in with him, it was nothing more than a headache you thought would pass with time and a nap. But when you woke up from the nap a few hours later feeling like you had been hit by a bus, you knew exactly how shit you were going to feel for the next few days and you knew you needed to keep him away from you.

However, Carlos was a smart man. A beautiful, stubborn, smart man who worked out pretty fast that you were ignoring him when you didn’t come to his room on Wednesday night. And again when you went out of your way to rush off in between media duties. And again when you avoided his message to meet in his driver room in between conferences.

But you couldn’t afford to get him sick. And you couldn’t afford for him to know you were sick, so you trusted only the people you knew wouldn’t tell him (aka just yourself).

Although, what you failed to think about was the fact that your colleagues wouldn’t hesitate to slip where you were hiding when your boyfriend asked.

“You’re ignoring me.”

Your head snapped up at his voice, a small wince leaving your lips from the sudden movement. You sat up a little, though the little corner in the Ferrari hospitality wasn’t doing much when you were sitting on the floor with your laptop balanced on your lap.

“I’m not,” you responded weakly, only for Carlos to give you a look.

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else, only to pause when he really took you in. The pale expression, the dark circles under your eyes, the red tip of your nose and chapped lips. You barely had a chance to react before he was kneeling in front of you, your face engulfed by his large hands as he frowned.

“Mi mariposa,” he murmured with a sad look on his face. “Why did you not tell me you were sick?”

“Because you can’t be near me right now,” you said as your fingers wrapped around his wrist, attempting to pull him away from you but it was useless. “Carlos, you can’t afford to get sick. Racing is your life and if you couldn’t do it because I got you sick—”

“Mi amor,” he interrupted, though his voice was soft and soothing as his thumbs traced over the apples of your cheek. “Racing is my life but you are my everything. Let me take care of you.”

“Carlos,” you said with a sigh, but he cracked a smile when he knew your resolve was breaking.

“C’mon,” he ushered as he reached for your laptop in one hand and held out the other for you to reach for. “I promise not to kiss you but at least rest in my room whilst I have a debrief with the team. I won’t let my girl sit on the floor like this.”

Your cheeks burned but you nodded, burying your face against his bicep when he chuckled a little.

“Thank you,” you murmured softly.

“Always, mi mariposa, always.”

#carlos sainz #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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wisellamawerewolf · 2 months

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Charlie is an indicator of greater problems with Hazbin's writing.

*rant under the cut, as always*

I've read a couple of posts detailing how Charlie really comes off as a terrible person because she enables people who do terrible things (Alastor, Lucifer) and is completely useless when it comes to providing support and protection for the people she's supposedly cares about (Vaggie, Angel Dust), and while they are absolutely correct in their observations, I feel like Charlie is an embodiment of a bigger issue: the series' identity crisis.

The series constantly flip-flops between being the raunchy adult comedy that is supposed to get into very serious topics, and being a wholesome Broadway-esque musical about how anyone can change for the better. And accordingly, Charlie is flip-flops between being either a nice innocent girl who has almost child-like view of the world and has to be protected from terrible reality of life in hell by others, or someone who's hyper aware of a genocide and a awful state of the hell. She's supposed to be a combination of those two things, or at least grew up as a character from the former to the latter, but instead she feels like two similar, but ultimately very different characters.

Let's take episodes 1 and 4 for example.

In episode one although Charlie is quite hopeful about things, she's aware how horrible the hell is and how genocide affects her people. At one point she even looked like she was about to try and kick the leader of angels' ass for implying all souls in hell deserved death.

She also tried and direct Adam to the important topic, albeit pretty softly, but still she made an impression that she could at least be somewhat assertive and hold her ground.

In episode four she behaved like a completely incompetent child.

She was afraid of coming off too "mean" (she didn't even have to be that to be assertive?), she acted childish through out the meeting with Valentino and messed up so bad she left the studio in tears.

Also she decided to write an apology letter to everyone INCLUDING Valentino??? Excuse me, but literally what the fuck. No wonder even Angel fucking Dust of all people felt like he should shield Charlie from the reality of his job- the same guy who pretty much only talks about sex 24/7.

There's a couple more examples of her character going through the same roller coaster, when she seems to be oblivious that Alastor says she's like a daughter to him only to get back at Lucifer, or when she's horrified by implications of Vaggie being an ex-exterminator, etc.

Why do these drastic changes are constantly happening? Simple: the plot demands so. Charlie is afraid of being mean when the plot needs her to step away from the Angel Dust's situation so writers could milk tHe dRaMa, but suddenly this fear disappears when she tells an old lady to shut the fuck up.

The same way how plot demands to have a Broadway style song that feels like it belongs in a cartoon for a school age children, right before the episode discussing sexual abuse, where violence is used as a source of jokes.

The show wants the conflict that could be resolved in a single episode to discuss a serious issue that realistically would take years to fix, be it the self-esteem and self worth issues or the redemption. This also creates a problem where the characters don't feel three dimensional, they feel like two different characters who are equally flat replacing each other when the story demands it.

Charlie is just a glaring example of the show's overarching writing flaws.

#hazbin hotel critical

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alicerosejensen · 5 months

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Something about sin. Pt 2.

Warning: Older!Leon; younger reader; fem/reader; age difference; reader is the daughter of another DSO agent; Mention of erotica but it is not here; Anxiety; Relationship with Ada mentioned; Mentioning the conflict.

Synopsis: It's becoming increasingly difficult for Leon to be only your father's friend. Day by day you awaken more and more sinful feelings in him.

Tags: @ourfinalisation

Part 1

He's just a friend of your dad's.

A friend of your father's who happened to meet you in a downpour, frozen, under the awning of some small shop that was probably closed, and you were already shivering like a kitten in a wet box that no one wanted to take in. Of course, he immediately took you to a warm place - his apartment. Do not think that he had any plans; apart from your well-being, he did not have a single sinful thought in his head, and you calmly trusted him. You bet! However, there were no sinful thoughts during the trip. But as soon as Leon opened the door of his apartment and let you in as his guest, he wanted to immediately take off all these soaking wet clothes, wrap your little body in a warm towel or bathrobe and put you in his bed. No sex, seriously, but that doesn't mean he couldn't imagine you sleeping in his bed, lying on his chest… A couple of days ago, he even woke up with another girl and thought for a few minutes that it was you, but reality hit him hard in the ribs. Instead of a shower, Leon offered only a towel, as well as his T-shirt and shorts to wait for your clothes to dry. Yes, the size is big, and, roughly speaking, the shorts were useless because it were too wide.

He honestly tried not to think about you. And on the other hand, couldn't help but fantasize about what would happen if you were entirely his. When you come out of the bath dressed only in his clothes, laying out your things on the dryer to dry, Leon wants to go up to you and put you on his lap by taking off those shorts. And it's even better to soak in the tub with you while you play with foam like a little girl. Shaking his head, driving away from himself again a series of vicious desires, he does not immediately realize that you are already sitting in front of him at the table waiting for a hot mug of tea to keep warm.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking, so what did you just say?

You smile at him again with your innocent smile, taking a sip, stuffing your mouth with more tea, after which your cheeks swell like a hamster for a couple of seconds. It's a funny sight. Leon knows that you only do this when you're drinking tea alone or with someone you're comfortable with. With whom who will not say that you are behaving inappropriately. He's definitely never going to tell you that.

"I said that Dad is absent now and mom has gone to my aunt for a couple of days. And that rain was not promised in today's weather forecast," You're lying, but no. There's no point in lying, Leon knows you're not going to seduce him. And you're not doing anything because he wants to love his friend's daughter… life really sucks.

He should have fallen in love with a woman his age or continued dating Ada. And you're worse than a zombie…stuck to him like a burr.

"Take a break now. You can watch TV, and to be honest, it's a long way to your house. I can call a taxi, but if you want, can you stay with me until morning? Sleep on the couch"

This is a risky question. Regret takes hold immediately after these words have been spoken out loud. What does he even hope for? That at nightfall you will come to his bed and say "I love you"? Cute, but unreal. Although Leon admits to himself that in this scenario he would be a gentle lover. There's no other way with you. In addition to the gun, he has condoms and lubricant on his bedside table, besides he does not skimp on preparation. But watching your face and how you feel indebted to him, Leon realizes that none of this is going to happen. You don't look at old people like him.

On the other hand, the taxi driver will charge you a considerable amount. Although who is he kidding? he is ready to pay for the trip to your home himself.

"Oh, princess, don't look at me with those puppy dog eyes…" he wants to say, but instead he says it to justify himself: "I'm just worried that the driver might offend you. Your father will twist my head off if anything happens to you."

Although he'll be the first to wring his own neck if someone hurts you.

"I wanted to spend the night with a friend, but at her house… a date with a guy. I don't like being alone," you admitted, shyly lowering your eyes, stroking his mug with both hands.

"Then stay," he had to make an effort to make his voice sound the same, but his smile betrayed him. "Let's order something for dinner, watch a movie and tell me about your TV shows that you love so much…"

"Do you know?!" You were surprised, but you smiled again. Of course he knows.

"Your father said that you watch them all the time."

It was wonderful when you agreed, and Leon let you choose whatever you wanted. don't worry about the money, the last expensive purchase he made was at the bike parts store, and well, the bottle is in the top cabinet in the kitchen. You order spicy pizza, pasta and something else, Leon doesn't even look at what exactly, because he doesn't care. The only thing that pisses him off is that you thank him and then fall asleep soundly on his couch after a little night of fun with food and TV.

He's a son of a bitch.

He's your father's friend, he's old, he's… It just doesn't suit you. Leon knows that you trust him, otherwise you would have run away as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and his brain suggests to him the idea of pulling off your T-shirt, exposing your small breasts, and squeezing you in his arms. You have a stupid habit of biting your lips, but you're not doing it because it's sexy (because it's never sexy), but because it's a fucking habit, not flirting.

The point is, he's not trying to justify himself like the rest of the bastards, saying it's your fault that he wants you. It's NOT your fault. You're NOT flirting with him.

And Leon understands that. When the movie ends, he brings you a blanket and a pillow, saying that you can still watch TV, but he is too old and will go to sleep. And all this in order to take the burden of guilt off his shoulders a little. And you're still innocently wishing him sweet dreams.

Yeah, indeed, his little princess, whom he should not defame. Eventually, you'll find yourself a guy your own age, graduate from college, and from time to time remember the day your dad's crappy friend sheltered you for one night.

A couple of weeks have passed since that day. All Leon can offer his few girls for one night is coffee in the morning and a sandwich made from the remains of what he has not yet rotted in the refrigerator. When Ada comes, everything is even simpler here, because she doesn’t need to offer anything, she’s like a cat: she comes and goes when she wants. You're not like that.

For some reason, Leon is sure he would have ordered you breakfast. Not always, of course, but things would really be different with you. There could be good moments in his life that are overshadowed by only one thing - his own conscience, which screams to stay away from you. You didn't tell your father anything about spending the night in his apartment. Leon guessed only because no one attacked him with pretensions, and in general, what kind of father would want his daughter to spend the night at his friend's house? Even if nothing happened between you, it will still remain a secret between the two of you.

He still cares about you, like your dad's friend, he can pat you on the back as support or even hug you at some holiday, but soon Leon is surprised to notice that the hugs from you are becoming longer and stronger.

It's nice.

Maybe he just imagined it and you're still chatting sweetly with him, and that hug gesture was just in his head. You have a nice floral perfume that suits you and Leon likes it when you sit next to him at the table offering this or that dish cooked by your mother. You take care of him, although not with the context he wants.

In fact, Leon is not a fool and understands why you don't give a damn about someone like him. At one point, he was ready to openly flirt, but damn it, if that happened, you would run away to complain to your father and do the right thing, but here he is sitting in your family's house, drinking beer with your father, discussing life and at some point realizes that your father really looks like him, but he has a family. He spends all the money he earned in the DSO on you and your mother, that's why you've been a little spoiled since childhood, but who's going to blame the old man for that? If Leon had a family, he would also spend every last cent to please his loved ones, and therefore the last woman he gave an expensive gift to was you.

However, Leon would have given you his card without any problems so that you could buy whatever you want. Dad loves you and he loves you too, but not as a friend, although he carefully hides it.

It's not funny. Leon would like to find at least one couple with a large age difference who has a healthy, loving relationship, but he himself understands perfectly well that he behaves like a boy who believes in fairy tales to the last. Well, at least he smiles when you are visiting him and you managed to start talking to him about this topic, telling him that there were such couples... several hundred years ago, when girls were forced into marriage. Your argument was that “They fell in love with each other later anyway,” supported by beautiful films about love of that era and romance novels marked “not for children,” with Leon himself reluctantly admitting the truth.

“Sunny, this is just literature designed to arouse interest among girls like you and earn money. Grown-up guys like cute girls like you for a completely different reason."

You didn't like the answer. You discussed with him for some time without crossing the line, but more and more Leon noticed the sadness on your face. The way you clenched your jaw and involuntarily puffed out your cheeks again made him want to comfort you. And then you mentioned that you know a couple who have many children and have a significant age difference.

"Why are you trying to convince me?" He smiled when he saw how frightened his desired, but unattainable angel was, and came up with excuses, saying that he was destroying your illusions that “they lived happily ever after” and “all ages are submissive to love.”

Well what can say? With this conversation, you made him doubt that he was not the only one with sinful thoughts in his head. You still don't have a boyfriend...

At least Leon hopes you weren't seduced by some old bastard, but you're a smart girl and know how to run away from creepy guys.

You're still laughing at his jokes, smiling, and Leon really wants to find the answer to why Ada left his heart so easily and you took over it so easily. But he has a bad habit of loving those women who don't need his attention. In any case, when Ada visits him again, pride does not allow this woman to go to bed with a man who has another on his mind. And Leon himself, however, no longer has any desire, as well as needs.

The costs of the profession.

Maybe because he is still ashamed that he called his last girl by your name and kissed her in his sleep.

Leon really thinks he's such a bastard when he sits in front of Ada and doesn't know what to say to her. She is a part of him, but one that he no longer wants to touch.

"I am not angry"

Leon simply nods, running his hand over his face, not at all surprised by this woman's reaction. Ada Wong isn't one to throw a fit because her partner has found another love interest. An interest that could be mutual and healthy, unlike what had happened between the two of them over the years.

and all that Leon says to her in response is:

"I know"

"You shouldn't blame yourself for wanting stability somewhere. Feelings can disappear after 20 years of marriage, and you and I have separate ways… I will not fulfill your cherished dream of a typical American family, where you return home and there your wife is waiting for you with a hot dinner and two, maybe three Kennedy kids who will immediately jump on your neck with happiness that dad has returned home"

Anyone who knows Ada even a little bit will say that she is right. It seems to Leon that he knew this even at the first meeting when she identified herself as an FBI agent showing him a fake badge. But then he was a young, scared rookie cop with a great sense of justice who, despite his fear, wanted to save at least one living soul in the Raccoon City… So many years have passed and Ada is right, he has hardly changed.

They didn't even have love. The status of "Everything is difficult" turned into "Everything has become much more difficult" because you fit into this status and Leon is completely confused, preferring to just stay away from everyone and suppress all the feelings inside. And you keep climbing and climbing into his head against his will that one day he really got angry and snapped at you when you accidentally dropped one of the old parts in his garage.

To tell the truth, this useless spare part should have been thrown in the trash a long time ago, Leon doesn't know what the hell it was lying there, maybe he just forgot to throw it away, but the way you lowered your head and apologized, biting your lip so as not to cry in front of everyone, well, it makes him feel like a son of a bitch even more. My God, he would immediately fall at your feet and beg for forgiveness for raising his voice at you at all. After that, even when he came to visit your father and stayed for dinner with the family, you didn't even show up in his eyes. Your mom kept saying that you weren't feeling well and decided to get some sleep, then you were too busy (but didn't say what), then you were supposedly not at home, but one day you accidentally got caught when you sneaked into the kitchen for dinner, putting a bigger portion on your plate. Leon wanted to call out to you but looked away pretending not to notice.

This could be the end.

He would have just waited a little longer before apologizing to you for yelling at you over nothing. I would have given you time to calm down, but I was really scared when I received the stupidest message from you.

"I want to pay for the thing I broke. I really didn't want to break anything, so just tell me how much it cost."

At that moment, he wanted to yell at you even more. Do you really think that he is so petty that he will charge you money for just dropping an already broken part?! After that, he felt even more disgusted with himself. Because he acted like a bastard and now you think he's a real brute.

Of course he didn't charge you. However, unsubscribed the same way as you: SMS.

A conflict that essentially grew out of nothing. When your mom finally made you show up and greet him out of politeness having dinner together, you were now sitting as far away from him as possible without saying anything or offering, constantly looking at the clock waiting to escape from the table. Then it was decided that it was time to end it. After your awkward escape, Leon tried to find you in the backyard of the house and he was almost right, however, he spotted the exact location by following your sobs when you were sitting in the barn and sorting through some old things without noticing someone else's presence.

If you were his… No, he still quickly ran up to you with the idea that something had happened to you, you couldn't just sit and cry like that, and if you could, then at least give the old man hope that it wasn't because of him. Leon didn't want you to cry because of him.

Mr. Kennedy, as you used to call him, has no right to kiss you even if he really wants to. Even if you're a forbidden fruit that you can't eat, but you really want to, so you just don't have any strength anymore. You just can't. However, you look at him with those tear-stained eyes, allowing him to take your palm in his hand and squeeze it slightly, dropping down in front of you to listen to stupid apologies. Leon doesn't know how to apologize a damn thing, but he tries. He really tries when he wipes your tears from your cheeks while maintaining eye contact and doesn't know what to feel when you press your cheek against his palm.

An accident or a hint?

Leon thinks the former, although he secretly hopes for the other. He may be the perfect government weapon, the perfect soldier, a good man, but he knows that he is an ordinary scumbag who kisses his best friend's daughter and is bursting with happiness when an awkward kiss gets timid reciprocation.

Even if you are already of age, even if you dreamed about it yourself, Leon Scott Kennedy will always feel like a guilty scoundrel.

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zialltops · 3 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck.

a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍

Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke

Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.

If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?

It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.

“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”

The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.

“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.

“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”

Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.

“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.

The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.

“Is that everything, ma’am?”

Click

You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.

She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”

And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”

You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.

“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”

You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.

“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.

“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.

Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.

“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.

His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you’re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”

His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”

You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.

You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?

He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.

You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.

It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.

You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.

You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.

There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.

You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”

Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.

Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.

Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.

“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”

You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”

The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.

“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”

Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”

He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.

And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.

“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”

There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.

“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.

You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.

“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”

Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”

He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.

“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”

He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”

You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.

Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”

You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”

You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—

“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“

He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”

He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.

Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.

Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!

“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.

Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?

She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”

With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.

“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”

You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—

Know you’re fucked.

“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.

The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.

Two days pass in a blur.

You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.

We’ll get through it

You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.

He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.

When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.

“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”

You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.

Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”

The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”

You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.

“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”

By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.

You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.

Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.

On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.

It doesn’t happen for hours.

Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.

“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.

Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.

You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”

You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.

The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.

He’s here.

“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”

She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.

There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.

“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.

“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.

“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”

The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?

“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.

“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.

He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.

He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.

“You want to get out of here?”

Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.

You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.

One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.

Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.

He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He’d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.

And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.

You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.

When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.

His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”

His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.

The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.

He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.

He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

You should have known.

265 notes · View notes

shaisuki · 8 months

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ADDICTION

|| the second entry for the series “𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄”

content warnings ─── bonten! sanzu, murder, talks about torture, noncon, implied kidnapping, drugs , dark themes, yandere themes

ᝰ synopsis.ᐟ when colored pills doesn't give him the high he needed, sanzu finds a new addiction, it's better than ecstasies.

the gunshot seem to frighten you. i apologize for that. in line of my "business" it is my job to keep the empire mikey had built to flourish. these traitors are not the worth of the name bonten and those who are without use should perish.

it's also to serve a warning to you. never run away from me.

i have no intention of harming you, let alone scare you. it's only a reminder that you can never escape from me, even you run to the ends of the world, i will follow you.

shed the blood of those who dares to look at you. serve their head in a platter. cut every finger who dares to lay their hands on you. rip their limbs apart one by one and not even death could escape their fate from my hands.

why are you crying? you don't like that? silly girl. it's a punishment for them who can't understand that you belong to me. what? can you repeat that? you don't want me nor anything of this?

you got no choice. you've bewitched me. got me high of my feelings that i didn't know i was capable of doing so. you've made me addicted to the sensation of your skin in mine. your voice like bells in my ears. no drugs could make me feel like the way you do.

you're the most potent drug that i could take. intoxicating me with your light that flows in my veins and gives me euphoria reaching in my brain. you're the medicine in my pain.

sometimes you're also the cause of the aches in my body. you never really learn do you? what got you shaking? the body drops as i pull the trigger on his head. blood pooling at those empty head of this incompetent fool to never let you out of sight when i'm dealing with mikey.

this is a warning. don't test me. although, i vowed myself to never harm you—you need to be taught a lesson. nobody messes with me, no one.

ssh. don't cry. this is all your fault. you're going to take whatever i give to you. fuck! i might lose control of myself whenever those tiny whimpers leave your mouth as i pressed my lips to your heated skin. be a good girl. all i want for you is to submit to me.

tears won't work on me darling, i've seen plenty of it. from the men who for me to spare their useless lives with a gun in my hand. it would be no different to you. you're mine to begin with. i own you.

a blissful sigh escaping from my lips as i inhale your scent. such beautiful hair you have. such bounty you have for yourself and it's mine to exploit.

the straps of your nightgown falling down to your round shoulders the more my lips move to feel of your skin. this would be your life with me as i clothe you with the most luxurious clothes i can provide for you. money ain't a problem for me. i have lots of them.

your body trembles as i touch you. i won't harm you, i told you. think of this as a lesson while you think of escaping me again. there's no escape in my grasps. as much i hate to force you, this is your punishment for making me angry. if you weren't my precious little things—i would have killed you.

we won't like that don't we? stay still. it would be easy for me to take you or else it would hurt. never been a problem for me to put down people like you.

that's it. you weren't that stubborn when i'm putting you in your place. that's right. the sight of you sinking in the sheets with your hands gripping the sheet while you brace yourself for me to take you. your plump ass raised to serve me.

eyes rolling as i sink to your warm pussy. engulfing me in such warmth that got me hooked, wishing forever to be inside you and now we are as one. connected to fulfill our desires and to feed my addiction.

i hope you learned your lesson with this one or else i'll be doing it until it get through your thick skin. i won't get tired of it nor will i ever stop.

this is what addiction to you feels like. a neverending rush of euphoria.

#ʚ•ɞ. shai writes #chubby reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers sanzu #akashi haruchiyo #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #yandere x reader

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dekusleftsock · 5 months

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MMMMM OKAY OKAY OKAY

I’m surprised no one has talked about how interesting Izuku breaking his mask is???????? Like oh my god?????

He even comments on the fact that it’s probably useless to wear in a scene like this, since he only put it on previously to shield his face from the waves while fighting and running away from Himiko.

In fact, I could even compare this to another Himiko scene altogether!

Himiko’s broken mask.

It’s a metaphorical mask, but honestly, so is Izuku’s. In this chapter (and previous chapters, obviously) Izuku is hiding from the fact that he has… deeper than desirable feelings for Katsuki that makes him violent and hateful. He does not want to be violent or hateful, but currently, he is at such an awful state of mind (due to Katsuki’s death and then reawakening, and also partly the state of his friends and colleagues) that he can’t help doing so.

That hate and violence cannot be stuffed down deep in his bones like usual, oh no, his quirk elicits a PHYSICAL reaction. But he didn’t have a quirk before, how could he really know that this would happen? It’s like walking through daily life as a teenager, and then in your early adulthood being hit by an extreme anxiety disorder or other health conditions. With no real reason, it just happened one day! Other people have dealt with this before sure, but they had several years throughout their adolescence to figure it out, how to cope with it. And just like it’s said in the manga, it’s like everyone else is running far ahead, and you’re just starting to crawl.

And that’s what the mask is (fuck you dream 🫶🫶🤭) really for. It protects Izuku on a very emotional level. The mask is broken, chipping, dirty—yet he wears it anyway because it’s the only way he can really smile like allmight. Just like allmight found his mask, he also found his smile. It’s also probably why his first reaction to having a quirk stolen (while also strategical) is to hide hide hide in blackwhip. A bubble that hides him from Shigaraki, from Katsuki, from everyone who could see his face.

And comparing this to toga, hello?? Her masking metaphor is about MASKING AS A HETEROSEXUAL GIRL, and her breaking that mask makes her a deviant, an outcast! And here Izuku is, doing the exact same thing.

Shigaraki has danger sense now, by all means, the table has flipped—Shigaraki now knows that Izuku wants to hurt him. Izuku wants to destroy him. Danger sense doesn’t work on just anyone, it has to be coming from a place of malice (because Himiko doesn’t affect danger sense), and an urge for violence. Very Himiko trait.

AND IZUKU KNOWS THIS, HES BERATING HIMSELF, INDIRECTLY ONCE MORE—saying that he has this useless power (similar to how he berated the fish when he was mad at Katsuki in chapter 1), comments on how the mask is broken and that allmight found him that mask, and he even holds this disappointed look on his face.

THIS is the weight I was talking about. This. The berating, the indirect hatred, because Izuku hates. He hates people and things just like Shigaraki does. That’s why danger sense was the only power shigaraki should have taken, it’s the literal power to feel who is loving and who is hating.

AND OF COURSE WE HAVE THE THROWBACK CHAPTER TO 342 OH MY GOD

The fact that Izuku has to say, “you’re a person”, ITS SO DAMN BEAUTIFUL YALL IM DEAD

Oh also! Izuku having matching blood falling over the other half of his face is just too fitting.

To me, with this whole chapter, Izuku and Katsuki, the parallels Katsuki had to ochako last chapter (the falling on the ground, passing out because “it’s getting cold”), it’s just given me a lot to think about.

And I’ve thought and paced and I really really hope I can describe what I’ve been thinking.

Pikahlua (or however their name is spelled, sorry!) translated the text on top of ochako as “Im still not sure what was obvious to that person”. These are the rough translations which is good to keep in mind, but there’s a few ideas I’ve had floating around from that line.

I went back and read 342, Ochako is ofc looking out into the city, calling herself an oddball, even saying she feels like she doesn’t know anything about Toga; if, and this is a big if, but… if this is Izuku thinking about Ochako, then that makes this line far more interesting.

What was obvious to her? A couple of possibilities—possibly understanding that she doesn’t really know Himiko, maybe it’s the fact that Ochako is so openly ready to accept Himiko (unlike Izuku for shigaraki, though this doesn’t apply to Katsuki. Showing Izuku is capable of feeling long term resentment for someone who wronged him, so long as that person doesn’t just wrong him, izuku), or maybe, it was the fact that she was so openly ready to say that she was weird, an oddball (a queer trope for coding characters, “she’s just so weird about that girl”, “I feel like I don’t really fit in”, or “I feel like the way I think of this same sex character—regardless of contextual status such as being a villain or an arch enemy—is wrong, and I should be condemned.”)

Though this could also be Ochako talking about Himiko that wasn’t directly said/shown in that scene, “I’m still not sure what was so obvious to Himiko about me.” (Though personally I find this harder to believe since this isn’t a panel directly taken from the chapter, rather a redraw from Izuku’s perspective. The drawing even makes her look taller than Izuku, which is interesting. Maybe he thinks that she’s better than him, morally)

And if we take Izuku’s comment of “You’re a person” then that furthers my belief that these are thoughts ABOUT ochako. Maybe the “obviousness” was the seeing the villain as a person. She EVEN TELLS HIM that she was thinking of Himiko during her speech about how Izuku is still human to the civilians. Maybe that speech was never about Ochako to Izuku, maybe it was ALWAYS ABOUT HIMIKO.

And ntm, this is another case of Izuku projecting onto someone else; not only is this a declaration to Shigaraki, “You’re still a person (that’s why I know I’m going to save you)!” But it’s also a declaration to himself, a motivator, a reminder that Ochako made to him during her speech, in Katsuki’s apology, and from allmight during his vigilante arc.

“You’re still a person (Izuku).”

The same declaration he made to the fish in the first chapter, to Shoto during the sports festival, and to Katsuki during dvk1.

“I matter.”

And it’s this that truly makes all of this so ironic—izuku speaking for himself, projecting onto shigaraki… honestly they feel the same way about hero society. The only reason Izuku can and does relate to Shigaraki is that he also feels cast away, no adults to reach out to as a kid, therefore making decisions on morality and bias that he mostly made on his own. Not only that, but Izuku has been the boy that was not seen as human. He has been the one to be isolated and shamed for being dirty and looking like a villain.

That’s honestly probably why he agreed with Ochako at all—he saw the little boy Shigaraki once was in ofa yes, but he’s also been an isolated and dehumanized teenager at UA. What if what Izuku was thanking Ochako for wasn’t actually standing up to the people and the speech she gave to him, but that she was able to truly open his eyes, see the bigger picture. Save Shigaraki.

Do I think shigaraki and dekus relationship and ideas of relatability are vastly different from togachako AND dabi + shoto ideas? Yes. Extremely so. Shoto and Ochako don’t and never really did hate Himiko or Touya. Obviously, to an extent Izuku does. Ntm, Shoto and Ochako brought up their conversations about their respective villains on their own, professing their insecurities and doubts, unlike Izuku who only expresses that he relates to them.

Maybe this anger and hatred came more recently, after seeing Katsuki’s death, but I have a feeling it more has to do with a built up grudge of Shigaraki targeting Katsuki.

Regardless of all of this, I see something bigger; when Izuku breaks his mask, he smiles. Genuinely smiles. Not his bright allmight smile, but he smiles regardless on that last page. It hurts and it takes a lot of power to push it, but it happens anyway.

This is the first time I’ve seen Izuku happy, or at the very least motivated, since seeing Katsuki dead. Even when Katsuki woke up, he still looks heart broken.

But the mask is gone. He’s free. Just like Himiko was free, so is Izuku.

And I thought for just a second that he would cover himself up another way, but he didn’t. He got up and he said “You’re still human” And smiled at him like the badass he is (yes I can compliment him, I promise. He’s my favorite character for a reason, I also just wanna kick him in the balls 24/7 for being so dumb).

And what did Himiko do when the mask broke?

She gave in.

She was free.

She let the world know, “this is who I am, take it or leave it.”

And I know, in my heart, that this is what Izuku will do too.

Yk how I mentioned earlier that this was a parallel to this?

I mean that, down to the fact that Ochako is calling Himiko by her first name.

Will Izuku try to give his life to Katsuki? I doubt it, he can’t do much in the medical sense.

However, do I see a shared moment similar to this? Maybe.

Okay all I’m saying is that it’s undeniably canon atp. Like I’m gonna wait for some kind of confession or kiss (bc yes I still believe that will happen, I am in that camp and you couldn’t drag me out unless I was cold and dead on the ground), but Himiko literally says she loves Ochako multiple times, INCLUDING is 395, so like. Idk what else you want. It’s this. We did it. Horikoshi you bastard.

#I got more thoughts on more things I want to elaborate on #but I hope this suffices for now #bkdk #togachako #midoriya izuku #mha deku #bkdk brainrot #bakudeku #bnha deku #bakugou katsuki #mha analysis #deku midoriya

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unnoticed-poison · 3 months

Text

Dark! Yandere! Hazbin Hotel X Reader 【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】

So I forgot I explained the situation in my other yandere fic but not this one so I'll do it now so everyone will know.

The reason some girls are genderbend is because I can't exactly write yaoi or yuri cause of my religion, the most I could do for them is turn them into males so they can be romantic yanderes, hope you guys understand.

Also because I like to write genderbend as well.

The treatment Valentino gives Angel Dust will be mentioned of course, and not all the girls will be genderbend, it depends on how the story will go.

So anyways enjoy the chapter ❣️

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Things were not going so well for Charles at the meeting.

"And then I went ahead and invited her to my place-"

This 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 won't stop babbling about useless stuff and avoiding the topic at hand.

"- I failed to seduce her since she's so oblivious, but I can always try again next time," Adam said nonchalantly, taking a bite out of the rib as he glanced at him. "So what did you do this weekend?"

"Sir." The exterminator standing behind Adam looked less than thrilled while listening to his boss's chattering as well. " There's only a few minutes left for the meeting."

"Really? Oh well, you can start talking then."

Fucking finally.

Charles stood up after clearing his throat, holding up his papers as he started explaining the situation at hand.

"So I'm sure you're well aware of the overpopulation issue we're currently facing, I would like to suggest-"

Adam interrupted him. "OH that's not a problem at all! we're taking care of that just fine, Lute!" He called out as Lute stepped closer to him. "How many demons did you kill this year?"

The exterminator's voice was blunt as he answered. "Got a good 275 sir."

"275!? Badass! Awesome job danger dick." They fist-bumped as he said this, making the demon frown.

They're proud of that..?

"You know those are my people, right..?"

Adam laughed. "Of course! And that's what makes it even better!"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Charles continued. "As I was saying, all our problems will be solved if we rehab those sinners and cleanse all their souls so they can join you guys in heaven and the extermination won't be needed anymore!"

He explained as fast as he could while holding up each paper. " The redeeming process will take place in my hote-"

"That's enough."

Huh?

"But I haven't finished yet-"

"I've heard more than enough, if what you're suggesting is letting those miserable fuckers climb up the ladder then you can forget about it, that's the dumbest idea I've ever heard in my long, loooong life."

"Everyone makes mistakes! They can redeem themselves-"

"They had the chance to do that when they were 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, now that they've earned damnation, it's no one's fault but their own," Lute spoke in a scornful tone, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "And for your information, angels 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 make mistakes."

Charles narrowed his eyes at him in return. " You really think so."

The man smirked. "I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 so."

Adam, visibly annoyed, slammed his hands on the table, making them both stop. "Alright that's enough!"

He rose to his feet and made his way over to Charles until they were standing face to face. " Look here pal, hell is forever and there's nothing, and I mean absolutely 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 you can do about it, so I suggest you give up now, and I'll pretend I never heard any of that bullshit."

A sneer of contempt crept over his face as he towered over the boy, he looked too much like his father, just looking at him made him 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬.

"You should consider yourself lucky that damned snake gave you a pardon from the extermination or else you and your hellborn kind would've been dead a long time ago."

Charles could feel his blood boil, his face flushed in rage as he scowled at him.

This damned bastard-

Before he had a chance to respond, the angel suddenly stepped back.

"And now that I've got your and the audience's attention, I would like to announce that we've made a determination!" With a triumphant smirk, Adam turned his head to stare directly at where the camera was.

...?

Confused, Charles turned his head to where Adam was looking.

....

Shit!

There was a camera?!!

How come he didn't notice it!

"-To move up the next extermination."

What?!

"Wait a second that's not-!"

"I can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts, I know the day just finished, but we'll be back in six months!" Taking hold of both the drone and Charles's hand, he sent a menacing smile to the camera. " Enjoy those next few months dear sinners! Cause they might be your last."

Once he said that, he roughly threw them out of the room and returned to his seat while bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Wait!" The demon exclaimed, papers scattered around him as he tried to enter the room again. "Hold on a moment!"

"Now where is my favorite angel-" was the last thing he heard Adam say before the door slammed shut in his face.

......

Frustrated beyond words, his face scrunched up in anger as he slammed his fist into the door.

"Fuck!"

This was not how this was supposed to go!

He made things WORSE.

He then heard a voice come from the small drone.

"Looks like Lucifer's brat fucked things up for us all! What a shocker, I'm sure your father will be 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥."

....

He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a deep sigh as he dropped his head, feeling defeated.

"Excuse me, are those yours?"

Huh?

Charles lifted his head and looked over his shoulder.

Despite the woman being out of uniform and wearing a simple dress, he was certain that she was one of the angels with the wings and halo.

Moreover, the giant hammer in her hand, still dripping with blood, served as a stark reminder of her rank.

Her other hand was holding the papers he drew at the hotel, with a basket hanging from her wrist.

Was that an egg?

Despite being a little disturbed by the sight, he couldn't help but be drawn by her looks.

She's pretty...

"Sir?"

Charles snapped out of it, a flush spread across his cheeks when he realized he'd been staring too long.

With a sheepish nod, he stood up and brushed off his clothes as he went over to you.

"Oh yeah they're mine!"

With a nod, you extended the papers. "Here you go then." You said, handing him the papers, some were stained with blood.

He looked at the stained papers for a moment before taking them off your hand. "Am.. thanks."

"No problem, have a nice day."

With that being said, you walked past him and towards the room he just got kicked out of.

His eyes followed your back for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh and turning around to leave when he suddenly paused in his tracks.

Wait..

𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭?

Perhaps you're the one that arrogant prick was talking about?

𝘍𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦..𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦...

Maybe it wasn't too late yet!

If he could convince you of his project then maybe...

Perhaps you could help change Adam's mind as well!

Or at the very least move the extermination back to once a year like usual.

"Miss! Please wait!"

Turning back, he quickly headed over to you.

Upon hearing that, you paused and turned back to him with a raised brow. "Do you need anything?"

"I'd like to speak with you about something urgent."

You silently glanced back at the door and then back at the blonde, you had arrived just in time to witness him get thrown out by your boss.

So you had a pretty good guess on why he wanted to discuss with you.

"I'm sorry but my boss's words are final, I have no say in them, so whatever you spoke with him about I can't do anything."

That was mostly a lie, but the blonde didn't need to know that.

"Please! I beg you, it will only take a minute."

Gazing at the sheer desperation on the man's face, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

..........

.....

Damnit.

You finally let out a sigh. "Go ahead, I can't promise anything though."

Charles's face lit up with happiness as he gave you a beaming smile.

"Thank you!"

Despite your visible disinterest, the man excitedly explained his entire project to you in detail.

There might be hope to clean up the mess he made after all.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Hope you guys liked the chapter!

I really need to focus back on my Yandere Animation Studios fic, that thing only has the trailer chap posted 😭

Anyways until next time ❣️

#yandere hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel

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inbloomwriting · 10 months

Text

Everything to me - Chapter 1

Chapter one - Apple seed

Story Masterlist

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.8k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"You never understood you're everything to me I just hope you know, the future in your heart Is just about to start"

The universe must be mocking her, (Y/N) is sure of that. This is all one big elaborate joke and any minute now Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out from behind some bushes and tell her that she has been punkd.

She had a plan, all neatly laid out and organized. Blue ink on white paper in a fancy leather-bound notebook. Like a professional adult would do it who has their life all figured out.

Renovate the store and get it back up and running

Sell it for profit

Pay back Mum and get the fuck away from everyone and everything that has ever made her feel unworthy

That was the plan and she was so fucking determined to stick to it for once in her life. So this must be a prank. This must all be one big misunderstanding.

But it’s not a prank, is it? It’s the consequences of her own damn actions.

Her heart is racing as she climbs the stairs up towards Rebecca Welton’s office. Her legs and feet are heavy, like concrete. Why is being honest with your friends so damn hard?

It’s not just any friend either. It’s Rebecca. Rebecca who has always been in her life ever since (Y/N) was just a kid. Rebecca who is the only person (Y/N) ever looked up to. Why is being honest with her so terrifying?

You know why!

Yeah, (Y/N) knows why. Because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Rebecca hates her for what happened. Of all the people in the world, she needs Rebecca on her side.

As she lifts her hand and knocks on the door of the office, (Y/N) wonders if this is what death row inmates feel like. Knowing the end is inevitable and it’s all your own fault.

“Come in”

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door and steps into the room. 3 pairs of eyes look back at her but really, the only ones that matter belong to the beautiful blonde sitting by the desk.

“(Y/N), Hi. What are you doing here? Did we have plans? I thought you went back — “

“Yeah I — no, we didn’t have plans.”

It almost kills her, that smile that Rebecca sends her way. The one that’s so warm and loving and that’s been a constant in her life for most of her childhood and teenage years coming from Rebecca. Rebecca living in that lovely white house next door with the rose bushes and the big windows. Rebecca who taught her how to do the perfect eyeliner wing, who passed down her coolest leather jacket to her, who held her hair the first time she got wasted and threw up in those very rose bushes. Rebecca who was the older sister she never had.

She loves that smile it used to bring so much comfort to her. Now it makes her want to die. The girl she used to be, deserved to be on the receiving end of that smile. She doubts she still deserves it.

“Can we—” (Y/N)’s eyes dart around the room towards Higgins, then towards the other man. He’s the American trainer, Ted. She’s talked to him once very briefly and he seems so — nice. Genuinely nice. Not for the sake of being perceived as a good person but because he just is. “— do you think we could talk privately?”

There’s a flicker of concern in Rebecca’s eyes and (Y/N) hates that she put it there.

“Oh, of course. Ted, Leslie, would you excuse us?”

Everything’s a blur. They leave and (Y/N) thinks Ted makes some kind of pun but she doesn’t really recognize anything but the racing of her heart and the sour feeling in her stomach. Oh, fuck.

Rebecca sits her down on the big couch by the window, the one that’s meant for personal talks, not business. She’s so nice. Oh, she's too nice.

“Are you dying?”

“I — uh, no.”

“Okay, good.,” Rebecca says letting out a sigh of relief. “Now that that’s out of the way, can I offer you some tea?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Coffee?”

She repeats the motion

“Champagne?” Rebecca asks, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.

God, wouldn’t she kill for a glass of bubbly right now.

“No, I’m good. Can you just come sit down, you’re making me nervous.”

Not only does she sit down, Rebecca’s hand immediately finds (Y/N)’s, holding on warm and tight. It almost pulls an ironic scoff from (Y/N)’s lips. Mum doesn’t know but even if she did, she’d never offer this kind of comfort to her. She never did. So for a second, she lets herself relish in the affection. Just one second.

“Okay, now out with it.”

She’s rehearsed this conversation so many times in so many different ways. Like a school presentation. Meticulously planned. Even added in pauses for questions and shit like that.

All of that has vanished, her brain is empty, her tongue made of lead.

“I uh — look um. Do you remember when your dad died?”

Of all the ways she could’ve started this talk, this is probably the worst of them all. Who says things like that?

Rebecca seems a little taken aback for a moment before nodding her head and suppressing a slight smile, one brought on by the absurdity of the question, not by joy. “I do, yes. Hard to forget if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah, I would know.”

“Yeah.”

“So that night I was obviously very emotional because it reminded me of my dad and all of that bullshit.” Tears are already threatening to roll down her face, sitting on her waterline waiting for the right moment to strike. It’s impressive she still has any left to cry since that’s all she did the last few days.

“That’s understandable. Oh, please tell me you didn’t force yourself to come and relive all of your pain just because you felt like I expected you there? If I knew it was so hard on you I —”

This, all of this, is twisting the knife so much deeper. Leave it to Rebecca to search for a fault of hers in all of (Y/N)’s mess.

“No, Rebecca, it's nothing like that. I — I fucked up. I let it all get to me and because I’m, well — me, I got a little tipsy. Went outside to get some air and there was this guy. God, Rebecca, he had the saddest eyes. I just felt this weird connection so I sat next to him. We talked and talked and then ended up going to a bar and then to my place and then to my bed and well yeah.”

She giggles. Rebecca really has the audacity to giggle at that. In her defense, she tries to hold it in but it does slip out eventually.

“It’s not funny.”

“Is this why you’re upset? You slept with someone at, no wait, after my father’s funeral. That’s okay.”

“There’s more.”

"Oh, what is it? Was it a footballer?”

At the lack of a vocal response, Rebecca connects the dots.

“Alright. That’s — that’s not so bad. I was seeing a 21-year-old footballer. I don’t see what’s making you so upset about this.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh shit.”

Getting Rebecca to swear was always something (Y/N) found a silly sense of pride in. Rebecca with her perfect hair and outfits and manners. It felt like something so alien to her and yet that was (Y/N)’s favorite version of Rebecca. The one that’s as messy as you and me even if it’s just for a second.

“Yeah, shit.”

It’s the first time she said it out loud. Rebecca is the first person to know, except for (Y/N) herself and her gynecologist. Her mother doesn’t know.

The father of the baby doesn’t know.

Just her and now Rebecca.

“And I don’t know what to do. This wasn’t the plan. Fuck — please don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad? ”

There is an infinite warmth in Rebecca’s eyes. A warmth she always longed for coming from her own mother but never received. A warmth that seems entirely misplaced right now.

“I fucked your employee. I used your dad’s funeral to make the shittiest of all shit decisions and now I come here unloading all of this on you because I, once again, don’t know how to get myself out of the hole I dug.”

Soft hands wrap around (Y/N)’s shoulder and pull her in. Rebecca smells like expensive perfume and hairspray. All comforting and familiar. It’s nice, (Y/N) thinks, that despite everything falling apart in and around her, there is at least one constant in her life.

“Were you really afraid of telling me or are you just afraid?”

She’s so smart and so observant, sometimes it’s infuriating.

“I’m so scared, Rebecca.”

Life doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It doesn’t ease you into things, slow and gentle. There are no training wheels, no floaties. Life happens whether you’re prepared or not. It’s nice to know that there are arms wide open for you to fall into, a hand to pull you out of the roaring sea as you’re just about to drown.

“You can always unload on me, you know that right? That’s what family is for.”

All the willpower to stay brave and collected and not cry, all that vanishes with Rebecca’s words. Family. They’re family. Maybe not by blood but definitely by fate. By choice.

Mum would’ve told her to suck it up, to stop crying, and to face the consequences of her own actions. Would’ve probably had an “I knew this would happen” or an “I told you so” on the tip of her tongue. There is none of that with Rebecca. She just accepts the tears soaking through her, no doubt, expensive blouse and softly strokes (Y/N)’s head.

For a long time, there are no words exchanged. Some moments ask for calmness not conversation. There’s something deeply therapeutic about crying on the shoulder of someone you deeply trust.

“Can I ask?” Rebecca inquires with a gentle voice just barely louder than a whisper.

She doesn’t have to elaborate. There are only so many questions people have after you told them you had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant.

“You’re gonna hate the answer.”

A laugh falls from Rebecca’s lips, her breath tickling the top of (Y/N)’s head. “Don’t tell me It’s Jamie.”

“Okay, I won’t then.”

“Oh, (Y/N).”

Where there should be disappointment in her tone, there is understanding, there is slight amusement but above all, there is deep and honest care.

“ Can you blame me? Look at him. He’s sculpted by the gods and something about that silly little accent does it for me. I hate to admit it, I truly do.”

“Does he know?”

(Y/N) shakes her head, guilt and fear coursing through her veins.

“I don’t even have his number. I know hardly anything about the guy other than that he’s a footballer, that his ego is huge, and that he likes to cuddle after sex.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does he? Huh.”

“Yeah, it was really cute actually.”

For a moment she almost gets lost in the memories of that night, however hazy they might be. Jamie was fun and to an extent he understood. And there’s nothing quite as sexy as a man who is just as sad and messed up as you. Is it healthy? Absolutely not but (Y/N) never claimed to have a particularly healthy view on anything.

“He works here, you know. In this very building. You can just pop down and tell him.”

The way Rebecca says it makes it sound so easy. Like it doesn’t come with a shit load of guilt and fear and embarrassment.

“Wait, I didn’t even ask and I just realized that’s very presumptuous and maybe a little rude of me — do you even want to keep the baby?”

That’s the big one. The question of all questions. It’s the second thought that came to her head when (Y/N) saw the two lines on that fateful plastic stick. The first one being “Oh fuck.” It’s the question her doctor asked. It’s in all of the leaflets and informational reading she’s been handed.

“I’ve never thought about it before. I mean sure I thought about some hypothetical future but those dreams always changed depending on my mood. Now I’m here and I need to make a choice and It’s — It’s terrifying.”

“But?”

“But I think I do want it. I think I want to be a — a mother.”

It’s a word that feels strange on her tongue, bitter and sharp. Like biting down on your cheek and tasting blood. Mother was never the warm comfort of a home. It was the cold hand on her shoulder, the icy glance of disapproval.

Maybe mother can be something else. Maybe she can turn it into something sweet.

“I’m just scared. This wasn’t the plan, not right now at least, and not like this. I’m scared of doing it alone.”

“What in the world does that mean? Alone?”

“I don’t expect Jamie to step up. I’d appreciate it, of course. But he has a brilliant career and so much going for him. Getting me, a one-night-stand, pregnant could ruin so much for him. I don’t ever want that.”

“No,” Rebecca says and cradles (Y/N)’s face between her warm hands “I mean, you’re not going to be alone. No matter what Jamie says. You have me. And I can guarantee you that there are at least 10 other people in this building right now who will also have your back. Whatever happens, I can promise you that you don’t have to do this alone. And don’t sell yourself short, you have a career too!”

Maybe the universe isn’t mocking her after all. And maybe this isn’t a punishment either. Maybe this is just life pushing her into the deep end. Thank god she has people to help keep her afloat.

(Y/N)’s eyes wander from the clock on the wall towards the door then back. Over and over again.

Every time the door opens and someone leaves the locker room, her heart speeds up. Maybe if she dies of a heart attack right here and now she won’t have to talk to Jamie. That sounds like the most reasonable reaction. Anyone would agree. Right?

The boys all regard her with a sense of cautious familiarity. They know her face, know they’ve seen her before but can’t recall where much less put a name to her.

Well, all of them but Sam. He greets her with that big signature smile of his, so full of joy and sunshine. Calls out her name and asks her about her day. Rebecca might have a point that there are more people here that care about her. Their conversation is brief but there is no doubt in her mind that if she were to call him any time of the day, Sam would drop everything and help her out. That’s just the kind of person he is.

She wonders if that’s the kind of person Jamie is.

Another glance at the clock. 2 minutes pass. The door opens once more.

Jamie is smiling when he steps into the hallway. His hair is wet, probably from the shower, and held back by that silly little headband of his. He’s wearing a ridiculously bright orange hoodie and obnoxious colorful sneakers. Everyone else would look absolutely ridiculous in this get-up. Jamie makes it work. It must be some kind of superpower.

Or maybe he’s just so unfairly fit that it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing. Even naked he looks phenomenal.

Stop thinking about him naked, that’s what got you into this mess.

“Oh, hi!”

He’s so nonchalant, so casual when his eyes meet her’s across the hall. And really, why wouldn’t he be? What they had was casual. A one-night thing, no strings attached. Just two slightly broken people finding solace in each other. That was all it was supposed to be at least.

(Y/N) feels the weight of the secret resting so heavy on her shoulders, she’s sure she’ll collapse underneath it any second now.

“Jamie, hi. Uh — can we talk?”

“Sure, ‘bout what? Are you pregnant or something?”

He says it with a smile, not giving a single thought to the fact that his joke might be no joke at all but the honest to god truth.

(Y/N) on the other hand, feels like someone doused her in ice water, just poured it all over her. Her hands are clammy, breathing shallow, heart racing. Maybe she’ll get that heart attack after all.

When she doesn’t answer, doesn’t laugh, Jamie’s eyes grow wide in return. Though his reputation might make you believe otherwise, he’s quite quick in putting two and two together. At least in this situation. He doesn’t look happy, that much she expected, but he doesn’t look upset either. He just looks shocked. There is nothing but pure disbelief on his face. The cocky smirk has dropped, now his mouth is opening and closing trying to produce words as his head is trying to process the information he just figured out.

“Do you want to go discuss this somewhere more private?”

Of all the places to tell someone they got you pregnant, the hallway at his workplace might not be the more desirable.

A pale-faced Jamie nods his head, his eyes distant and glassy. She knows the feeling, has been there just a few days ago. That’s his whole life playing like a movie in his head right there, now with added scenes of a small child with his eyes. Oh god, she hopes the baby gets his eyes.

Jamie drags her into a small room off of the main hallway. Cubicle cupboards line the walls, filled with shoes and boxes. Orange and bright green and yellow. Every possible color of the rainbow, they have a pair of shoes to match in here. The smell though? The smell has her gagging. Sweat and cold cigarette smoke. It’s disgusting.

“Oh god, Jamie. This is disgusting.”

“It’s the boot room. ‘s where we keep the boots — and people come here to smoke.”

“They come here to smoke? On purpose? Like they chose to spend time in here?”

Jamie absentmindedly nods his head. He’s so pale-looking (Y/N) fears he might just pass out any minute now.

“Jamie, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

His eyes start to focus again, looking straight at her. He’s terrified and quite honestly, she can’t blame him. Confusion and fear are all she’s felt for the last few days. A bit of excitement too, sure. But mostly the first two.

“Yeah. No. I mean yes. I guess? No. I — fuck.”

Nervously he combs his fingers through his damp hair as if to calm himself down. Is that something his parents did to him when he was a kid? A motion of comfort? There is so much she doesn’t know about this man. If he decides that he wants to stick around, can this ever work? Can you raise a child with someone you hardly know and not completely fuck them up?

“Is it mine, then? Are you sure about that?”

“No, I just like going around scaring people into believing they got me pregnant. Yes, Jamie! I am 100% certain.”

His hands fly up in defense “Jesus, sorry. I don’t know your sexual history. You had sex with me after a funeral, don’t know how much you get around, now do I?”

She had expected him to ask if it’s his, hell anyone probably would, but there’s something about his tone that is just so off-putting. The accusation that swings along with his words. The judgment. As if he is in any place to talk.

“Oh get off your high horse, dickhead. We both made that decision after the funeral. Didn't hear you complain. And out of the two of us, It’s not me who fucked a girl in a hot tub on national television. Eurgh”

“You alright?”

“No, this room is making me gag. I assume this is bad under normal circumstances but this pregnancy situation has my sense of smell going through the roof. This is killing me.”

“Well, why didn’t you say nothing?! We could’ve gone somewhere else.”

“I just wanted to — eurgh— I just wanted to get this over with.”

“Let me get you out of —”

“No, let me just say this real quick and then I’m off.”

She’s prepared this speech a million and one times in a million and one ways. It always worked out fine but then again, her audience was just her cat and the mirror. Having Jamie look at her, a mix of concern and shock still on his face, that’s a whole different story.

“I am having this baby and I would like for you to be a part of their life, but I accept if you say no. Just know that whatever you decide, that’s final. I can’t have you running off and then coming back in a few years regretting your decision and wanting to be a parent after all. And I most definitely will not allow you to say you’re in and then give up on the baby halfway through. I had a parent like that, I will not have my child go through the same thing. I don’t need your decision now just — make up your mind and make sure you’re 100% certain. Here uh— “

Trying to hold her breath so as to not breathe in any more of the foul smell, (Y/N) rummages through her purse before pulling out a small piece of paper.

“They don’t usually do ultrasounds that early but I made friends with the nurse as I was waiting and they allowed me to get one and see the baby. Don’t really see shit on here if I’m being honest but apparently that blob is our child.”

Jamie takes the picture, his eyes moving between the image and back to her, down to her stomach then back to the picture. It’s like his head and his eyes are trying to cope with the fact that there is a real baby growing inside her. His baby.

“I just thought you might want to have this, if not just throw it away. I’m not trying to manipulate or guilt you into anything. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. You know where I live and Rebecca has my number just ask her for it — I gotta get out of here. Eurgh.”

And while an overwhelmed Jamie sinks to the floor of the boot room, ultrasound picture clutched in one hand while the other nervously combs through his hair, (Y/N) throws up in the bin by the front door.

There are 3 things (Y/N) knows for certain. One of them is that Michelle Pfeiffer as Stephanie Zinone in Grease 2 is the coolest person in the world. The second one is that decaf coffee kinda sucks. And 3 is that whoever is knocking on her door at 9:15 tonight, disrupting her rewatch of Grease 2 better has a good reason to do so if they want to keep their head attached to their body.

Slowly she’s dragging herself towards the door. Today was exhaustion enough both physically and mentally, she really doesn’t need the stress of an unannounced visitor. Not when she’s dressed in an old, oversized Hardrock Cafe shirt, bike shorts, and those ridiculous yellow slippers she got on her last trip to Disney that look like Minnie Mouse’s shoes.

“I’m coming, Jesus — “

“I don’t know shit about babies.”

Jamie looks different as he stands before her on her front steps, hair messy and flat against his head, wearing a big grey sweater. Gone is all the charming confidence and the mischievous smirks. He’s all sad eyes and shy smiles. He reminds (Y/N) of a sad, beaten puppy. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. That’s until the words that just fell from his lips really register in her mind.

“You could’ve just texted me you’re not interested. Didn’t have to come here, really.”

“What? No, I am! “

“You just said —”

“I said I don’t know shit about babies. Cause I don’t. But I’m not gonna run off.”

“You won’t?”

Jamie has never looked so genuine, so serious as in that moment and it sends a weird feeling through (Y/N). She didn’t have any expectations in him. You can’t really have those if you don’t even know the person. Sure, she hoped he would take interest in her and the baby but things truly could’ve gone either way. To hear him say that he wants to step up and be there, that’s a feeling she can’t really put into words.

“Can we uh — can I come in? Your neighbor is staring at me.”

(Y/N) opens the door to let Jamie pass before leaning outside and facing the house next door. Sure enough, old Mrs. Hartley is standing by her window, eyes trained on (Y/N)’s front door. Jesus fucking Christ, do these people not have their own lives?

The small pink couch looks even smaller with Jamie’s broad frame perched in the corner. He’s holding onto the fluffy white pillow as if he needs some kind of buoy to keep him afloat.

“Do you want tea or something?”

“Do you have beer?”

She only raises an eyebrow in response and points to her stomach.

“Right. Pregnant. Forgot about that for a second, sorry. “

Oh, the privilege of getting to forget about that.

“I have water, ginger ale, and apple juice.”

Jamie screws his face in repulsion. If there is one thing she’s learned about Jamie Tartt in the limited time they’ve spent together, it’s that his emotions are always so clearly reflected on his face. She’s not sure he knows exactly how expressive he really is.

“I’m good. Here, I actually brought you some stuff.”

As she sits down on the couch next to him, Jamie holds out a Tesco bag to her filled to the brim with stuff.

“What’s all this?”

He looks bashful, almost shy as he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Just some stuff for your nausea. Google said anything ginger helps so I got these lollies. Also sour candy and crackers. Not sure if it works but I felt so bad seeing you earlier and knowing it's kinda my fault, innit?."

It's such a sweet sentiment that (Y/N) can feel the tears gathering on her waterline. Maybe Jamie is the kind of person she can call when in need. Maybe he can become that person.

"That's very sweet Jamie, oh there's more."

It's a small box with two even smaller socks, so tiny it almost seems impossible that a human being can have such small feet.

"Saw them and couldn't stop thinking about how cute they were and then I couldn’t stop imagining our baby being so tiny and wearing them and, yeah.”

“They’re adorable, Jamie. Thank you.”

His words wrap around her heart like vines. Taking root. Blooming.

“Our baby”. The thought of having a baby is still so foreign to her. Her own baby, her child. Hearing Jamie call it theirs sends a flutter of feelings through her. Their baby. Part her and part Jamie.

“So what I meant earlier is that I don’t know shit about babies. None of my friends have babies, I have no siblings and all my cousins are around my age so I never really had experience with babies. I know they’re cute and I know they poop a lot. “

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yeah, and our baby?” he says and motions between the two of them “‘s gonna be the cutest fucking baby of all time. It’s genetics.”

The matter-of-fact tone in which he says it pulls a laugh from (Y/N). He does have a point though.

“I am not going to lie, I'm extremely unprepared for this. For being a — a dad.”

There’s a bitterness there, a heaviness. Maybe Dad is as sharp and as cutting a concept to Jamie as Mum is to (Y/N).

“Don’t have a dad. Well, I do but he’s right asshole, isn’t he. So I got no idea how to be good at this, had no one to show me. I’ll try though. I want to be different. I need to be. Promised myself when I was a kid that I was not going to be like him, ever.”

“I understand that, trust me Jamie I really do. But I need you to be sure that you want that. I don’t want you to stay around because of some misplaced sense of duty. I want you to want this.”

"Didn't think I did. When you told me and you gave me an out I wanted to take it. But then I kept looking at that picture, can’t make out anything on it by the way but that doesn’t matter, I kept looking at it and that part of me. That's my baby and I couldn't live with meself if I gave up on it. On you. A lot of people have given up on me in my life and I resent them for it. I can't be the one giving up now, can I? I'm better than that."

She doesn't even realize the tears have found their way out until Jamie's face fills with concern. "Oh no, I didn't mean to make you cry or nothing."

"They're happy tears, I think. I'm really scared, Jamie. Knowing that I don't have to do this all by myself, that helps a bit."

"I promise I'll try to be the best at this. I'll even rub your feet if they're hurting and I fucking hate feet."

Leave it to Jamie to put the humor back into even the most serious and tense of conversations.

"You don't have to rub my feet, that's okay. I do think we should get to know each other better though, now that we're gonna be raising a child together. I know hardly anything about you."

"Uh, you know plenty about me. You know I'm fit, obviously. You know I have great hair. I'm good at football, fucking ace actually. Also sexually."

That little shit has the audacity to wink. it should be annoying. It's weirdly charming though.

"And now you also know that I'm gonna try my best to be good at this. Hey, when the baby is here can I get one of them kangaroo pouch thingies and take them to training with me?"

"Kangaroo pouch? You mean a baby carrier?"

"Yes, that! Strap it to my chest while I do my warm-up."

"You are not taking our baby to training with you, are you insane?"

"I'm joking, Jesus. Would look fucking cool though, maybe get us matching sunglasses. Hats too. Baby icon."

"Oh my god, you know what, maybe this is a bad idea after all."

But it's not, she doesn't mean that. Jamie knows it and (Y/N) knows that he knows. For the first time since those two lines appeared, it feels like she can breathe easy again if even just for a moment. Things will be hard, no doubt but at least she can share it with someone. And it's just an added bonus that someone never fails to put a smile on her face.

"What are you watching there anyway?" Jamie asks, nodding his head towards the tv.

"Grease 2."

"They made a second one? Is it good?"

"No, it's terrible. I love it."

"See," Jamie chimes up, a small genuine smile.on his lips "learned something new about you. The mother of my child loves bad movies. This getting to know each other plan is going so well already."

And while it is a joke, there's also a flicker of truth to it. It's the little things that make us who we are. Like our love for bad movies or our desire to be better than our parents before us.

"Do you wanna stay and watch it with me?"

"Can we start from the beginning?"

"Obviously"

"Then yes! Give me one of them ginger lollies please."

They spent the next few hours watching Grease 2 followed by the first because - well it's just right to watch them both, really. It doesn't feel forced or awkward. This is not two strangers trying to bond for the sake of their child. This is a genuine friendship in the making. It feels wonderful. They exchange numbers, birthdays, favorite colors. It’s all very superficial information but it’s a start and it’s easy. This whole situation is hard enough, sometimes easy is just what you need.

The clock says 12:03 when Jamie decides it's time to go home.

Just as he is about to leave, one foot already out the door, he turns back with curious eyes.

"Do you know how big the baby is?"

"Uh, no. Pretty tiny I think."

"They didn't tell you what fruit size?"

"Fruit size?"

"Yeah like, it's as big as a strawberry now or something."

(Y/N) shakes her head in response "I think they mostly do that in American movies."

Jamie looks deflated for a fracture of a second before he lightens up again and one of those rare smiles takes over his face. The one that makes him look so boyish and excitable. Like a fucking golden retriever.

"That's okay. I'll find out."

"You do that. Let me know what you find. Have a good night Jamie."

"You too!" Then his eyes move to her stomach "And you too baby."

God, he can be so adorable it's absolutely sickening.

As she lays in bed, (Y/N) thinks back to just the night before. To the anxiety and the fear. To all the what-ifs that ghosted through her head. That seems like a whole lifetime ago and even though a lot of those fears are still present, they get overshadowed tonight. By the knowledge that she's not alone. And by the absolute sunshine that is Jamie Tartt.

Just before she closes her eyes, her phone dings with a notification.

Her hand comes to rest gently on her stomach. There’s no change there yet, absolutely no sign of a baby growing in there at this very moment. And yet she knows and that makes all the difference.

In a voice, soft like silk, she whispers “Daddy says goodnight”. It’s cheesy, outright sickening but in the dark of the night, who is there to judge her for it? Sometimes you have to let yourself be ridiculous and cringy if your heart demands it.

That night she doesn't fall asleep to fear and anxiety. That night she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagines #everythingtomefic

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cricket-reader · 11 months

Text

Mutual Agreement

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: whilst on a mission, you and Bucky get caught in the cold. Your body doesn’t handle the temperature well, being you’re not a supersoldier. Your state brings back memories of Bucky’s life before Hydra, making him fear for your health.

Warnings: language, hypothermia, crying, mentions of death, fluff

Word Count: 1,551

Prompt: Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilisation

A/N: Day 4 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

Bucky never showed his emotions. He was a closed book, and he intended to keep it that way. But that all shattered to pieces one fateful mission.

You and Bucky had been assigned to take down an abandoned Hydra base in Russia. Bucky had wanted to go alone, but Steve insisted that he went with a partner. That partner just so happened to be you, the girl that Bucky admired from afar.

You were strong, intelligent, and beautiful. He admired you for that and all the good you had done. You were better than him in every single way.

Finding and destroying the base was an easy matter. It was abandoned, therefore, there were no surprise attacks. It was the perfect mission. No injuries, no deaths, and most importantly to Bucky, not even a hair on your head was harmed.

Things only went downhill from there.

The getaway vehicle you had parked in the forest refused to start again. It didn’t matter what Bucky did, the vehicle refused to start up. On top of that, it was freezing in the vehicle. Almost as cold as it was outside, without the wind, of course.

If your shivering was anything to go by, Bucky knew you both couldn’t stay there. On his GPS, the safe house wasn’t far away. The supersoldier could make it on foot no problem. He just wasn’t so sure about you.

Internally, his thoughts were running rampant. On the outside, he looked as calm and collected as usual.

“We shouldn’t stay here. Do you think you can walk to the safe house?”

You bit your lip. “Sure.”

Bucky didn’t trust the tone of your voice whatsoever, but he didn’t let it show. He had to get you to warmth before he lost you.

You both exited the useless vehicle, and trudged your way towards the cabin.

It didn’t take long for your hands to start shaking, and your steps to begin faltering. You had to stay strong, though. You couldn’t face the embarrassment of failure in front of a teammate that you swore hated your guts.

The feeling in your face as well as your feet had long since vanished. Your fingers hadn’t had feeling since you reached the vehicle. These were not good signs, but you resigned to deal with it since the cabin was coming into your view.

Bucky noticed you lagging behind before you did. His heart raced, wanting to pick you up and bolt to the cabin where he could get you warm. He knew, however, that you would not like that notion. You’d probably smite him if he dared lay a finger on you. You liked your space, hating when people invaded it. Because although you were kind, you too had boundaries. Physical touch just happened to be yours.

It wasn’t until you tripped and fell into the snow that he decided, “screw that” and picked you up from the ground. You were trembling so hard, as cold as ice and it fucking scared him.

You let out a small noise of protest as he gathered you in his arms and began to run to the cabin. You could do it yourself. You just needed a little rest, that’s all.

Bucky slammed the door to the cabin open and slammed it shut before running to set you on the ground. He took off your soaked jacket and boots. You gently pushed him away, not really able to put any force behind it. “I can do it myself,” you muttered indignantly.

Whilst Bucky usually loved your sense of independence, it only served to frustrate him. He pouted with his signature grumpy face, arms crossed and all. He watched you peel off your drenched socks. Your fingers were still trembling.

He just wanted to help. You turned to go to one of the rooms, hoping to find a new pair of pants that weren’t wet.

You overestimated your ability to walk. Tripping over nothing probably had to be the most embarrassing thing you had ever done in front of Barnes. He didn’t hesitate to catch you. In Bucky’s arms you wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of shame.

Bucky muttered something to himself as he carried you to the nearest room. He set you on the ottoman in front of the bed before going to ruffle through the closet. He found some clothes for you to wear.

He turned around to give them to you, so you could change yourself. When he saw you falling asleep, he dashed to your side. You couldn’t fall asleep on him now. “C’mon, wake up,” he muttered, not a trace of worry evident in either his tone or on his face. He was determined to keep calm in front of you. Freaking out would do no good.

You blearily opened your eyes. It was so cold. Why were you so cold? You were in the warmth now. You should be fine.

“I’m gonna change your clothes now, okay? Is that alright?” Bucky asked. He didn’t want to do anything without your consent, but if worse came to worse, he would have to. He just needed to stabilise you before things got any worse. You just groaned in response. Cursing under his breath, Bucky dutifully peeled off your pants and dressed you in the sweats he had found. He left your shirt on, since it wasn’t affected by the snow. He didn’t want to do anything more. Not without your consent.

In your state of delirium, you barely noticed that he had picked you up and carried you to bed. You barely noticed the way he took care to wrap you in multiple blankets.

When you woke up, you were incredibly warm. You were also practically trapped in a cocoon of blankets. Groaning, you unwrapped yourself from the layers upon layers of blankets.

You tiptoed your way into the hallway. Looking around, you didn’t see Barnes anywhere.

You furrowed your brows when you heard a muffled sound coming from the bedroom down the hall.

You creeped to the door and pressed your ear against it. You could hear ragged breaths and choked sobs coming from behind the door. It had to be Bucky. No one else would be out here. However, you’d never seen him cry. He always was so strong given what he’d been through. He was resilient. So what could have prompted his tears? Did he have a nightmare? You knew from Steve that he was struggling with them. Your hand hesitated at the door handle. How you longed to go in there and comfort him, to wrap him in your arms and tell him he was safe now. But you knew he was a private person. He hated it when people saw him vulnerable, and you didn’t blame him.

All it took to break your hesitance was a sob.

Bucky had a hard time keeping everything in. He didn’t mean to let it out, but god he couldn’t help it. Seeing you look so pale and weak, your ice cold skin and shivering body… it reminded him of Steve. Little Steve back when they were kids. He thought Steve was going to die that cold January night. Bucky had stayed with him the whole night, praying to anyone that would listen to not take away his best friend.

It was like history was repeating itself and just the thought of you dying tore him to shreds. Now, Bucky didn’t believe in any god, not after all he went through with Hydra, but you bet your ass he had prayed. He didn’t get too far before his emotions caught up with him, hitting him head on like a bus.

That led him to the moment where you burst through the door. Your concerned features swept Bucky’s distraught figure. He was in the corner of the room, curled up into a ball. He didn’t even notice you, too busy trying to get air into his lungs.

Your heart tore at the sight of him so broken. You gently moved up beside him and kneeled just a few feet away. “Bucky?”

His red, watery eyes looked up at you like you were a ghost. Those eyes widened as he scrambled to make himself look like less of a mess. He sniffled back his tears and ran his hands over his eyes. Red creeped onto the tips of his ears and the back of his neck, completely ashamed you were seeing him like this.

His body froze when you wordlessly wrapped your arms around his body. He wanted to cry all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him as if he were something precious. It took him a few seconds before he returned the gesture, hesitant to touch you. He could hurt you… or what if this was all just a figment of his imagination. Bucky didn’t want your tender hold to disappear.

You both stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for the rest of the night. Not a word needed to be said between you both. In your silence was a mutual agreement. An agreement that no one had to know about Bucky’s meltdown. An agreement that you wouldn’t ask questions. An agreement that this is what both of you needed. Some comfort.

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strniohoeee · 17 days

Text

Labyrinth

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female reader

Synopsis: A numb and addicted y/n can’t seem to understand why her life suddenly feels different. She’s done nothing but move around in her adult years, so why is it now that she feels she can’t pack up and leave anytime soon?

Warnings⚠️: I haven’t written in over a month, so I’m super rusty this might be shitty! Cigarette smoking and mentions, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol. I don’t condone smoking or drinking (underage).🖤

Song for imagine: Cigarettes and Coffee- Otis Redding

Its early in the morning

About a quarter ‘til three

I’m sittin here talking with my baby

Over cigarettes and coffee

I was never one to deal with stress easily which led me to deal with it in the worst ways possible. Drinking, smoking, quitting jobs on the spot and even packing up and leaving places…..I know stupid and risky, but I never had that anchor in my life to tell me everything was going to be okay.

If I felt stressed and useless my things were packed and I was on the road to a new state. I think I was on state number 7 in about a year and a half. Who the fuck in their right mind handles stress this way? That was the million dollar question, and I had the answer…. I wasn’t in my right mind…not in the past, not in the present and undoubtedly not in the future.

After my last breakdown I landed in California precisely in Los Angeles, the city of angels. Where all your dreams and aspirations could come true. It just felt like lost paradise to me, but it’s the longest state I’ve ever stood in. For some reason I couldn’t find the power in me to leave when I got stressed. It was as if I had some unforeseen future here….a future of happiness and hope?

But the stress still gnawed at me. Will I ever have a career, will I ever be truly happy, will my parents be proud of me?How am I going to pay for next month's rent?How am I going to pay for next week's groceries?

It was a constant battle and I never severely suffered because I always found a way, but once all that was taken care of the immediate panic started again about how will I be able to do it all in the following weeks.

I started smoking constantly and it was weird because I wasn’t a smoker but I knew I should drink a little less. I only lit a cigarette when the stress was so bad I refused to drink anymore. Not like smoking was any better ruining my lungs rather than my liver….

But the problem was it went from one to two a day to five and on really bad days even up to eight. It was a bad crutch I simply couldn’t pull away from. They were my training wheels and I was so scared that once I let go I’d crash and burn.

I had an addiction and I had no one around me to slap me out of it. Of course I still spoke to my parents, but I just lied about it. I mean there’s truly no one to blame but myself, however all that regret left my mind once a lighter was in my hand and I took a long drag while the cool night breeze brushed against my skin.

I was lucky enough to have found a job almost instantly. It was a cute little coffee shop that had a small selection of books. It was a peaceful and slow paced job. We only really needed two to three people working. So I’d open at 8am and waited for the next girl to clock in at about 11am.

It was a fun job that paid the bills and my horrendous cigarette addiction. I had found a decent studio apartment nearby. But I was always convinced that this would be snatched from under my feet and I should never get comfortable. As you can expect this led to my extreme stress and anxiety.

I didn’t necessarily have friends here, I mean yes I was cool with my coworkers and boss; but we weren’t friends. It was more of a hi, bye situation. It didn’t bother me much. I was always a loner. I never really found people who got me, so I stayed with the only person who did…me.

On my days off I spent a lot of time walking around flea markets, heading into other cafes and even writing. I’d always hoped that one day I’d be a writer. My mind was always running and I figured someone out there might actually relate to and enjoy the words I’d write on a piece of paper.

Today I was actually working a small shift from 8am to 1pm. I was staring blankly at my reflection in the bathroom. Scruffing my hands and gargling mouthwash. It was 11am and I was coming back from my break.

Spitting the mouthwash into the sink I closed the cap and stuffed the travel size bottle into my purse. Inhaling deeply I looked at myself once again.

“You have got to stop smoking” I replied in a mumble

Slipping my hand blindly into my purse I pulled out my perfume; spritzing myself before shutting the light and heading into the break room to place my purse back.

Slipping my apron on my coworker walked in, clocking in the back as she offered me a smile

“Good morning Y/N” she said as she walked towards me to place her things down

“Good morning K” I stated as I offered a smile back and began to make my way to clock back in

I wasn’t sure why her name was K, it was all over her employee paperwork. She was here before me, so I felt I had no right to ask her for her real name. But it was interesting for someone to just drop the rest of their name and solely go by a singular letter.

After punching back in I walked to the front, not a surprise it was dead. The only people lingering around were the 8am-9am crew. Sighing deeply I decided to clean up a bit.

It was about 12pm now and I was watching the clock anxiously waiting to clock out and run free. Usually I worked 8-4 and sometimes even 8-6. I had a whole day ahead of me and two days off might I add. I felt pretty invincible

Drinking from my water cup the door chimed signaling a customer. Placing the cup down I began to turn around.

“Hi welcome to Mugs” I stated as I turned around

Immediately I was intrigued. I have never seen someone as interesting before. I mean it is LA, so I have seen some interesting stuff; but no he looked different…. And for some reason I couldn’t really look away

Placing his vision glasses on top of his head he squinted his eyes to read the menu. My eyebrow raising.

“You know glasses are meant for you to see things” I said logging into the register as I looked up at him

“I’m sorry?” He said looking at me

“You um…. You put your glasses on your head and then squinted to read” I said pointing above me at the board

“Oh… well these are just blue light glasses. I genuinely can’t really see” he said in an awkward way

“Ohhh well uhh want me to read the menu to you?” I asked laughing a bit

“Oh no it’s fine, I’m not really a coffee drinker” he stated looking at our pastry display

“You do realize you’re in a Coffee shop?” I said jokingly

His both opened a bit and then he squinted his eyes

“I am now seeing how ridiculous I look” he said chuckling and shaking his head

“No judgment here” I said sticking my hands up in defense

“I won’t waste your time any more! Can I have a chocolate chip cookie and that bottle of Pepsi” he said pointing behind me at the small fridge

“One Pepsi and one cookie, coming right up” I said checking him out on the screen

Grabbing the cookie and bottle of soda I placed it on the counter and slid it towards him.

“You can tap or insert your card whenever you’re ready” I stated clicking some buttons on my screen

“I’m uhh actually paying cash” he said fishing in his wallet

“Woahhh cash in this century?” I said giggling and fixing the system

“Yeahh I carry a little bit of cash and little bit of card” he said shrugging his shoulders

“A little bit of card….hmm…that’s funny” I said giggling a bit at him

“Well you know what I mean” he says playfully rolling his eyes

“I’m just messing with you” I said shaking my head

Smiling he handed the cash over and grabbed his items

“Keep the change” he said waving with his hand and nodding his head

Walking out the door I couldn’t seem to understand why I had a stupid smile on my face. Putting the cash in the till and placing the change in our tip jar.

Turning around I was met with my two coworkers staring at me with a smirk on their face. I’d never been the spotlight of attention and I’ve never gotten anything other than a good morning from either of them. So my face dropped and I got self conscious

“What?” I said a bit scared as I straightened my posture

“He was totally into you” K stated as she placed the rack of cookies down

“Was not! We were just making friendly conversations” I said opening the pastry shelf and putting some cookies in

“No no I agree with K we’ve had a lot of guys come in here, but this is the first time I’ve seen a guy like utter more than two words to you and he was totally geeking out” Delilah stated

“Totally! That kid was blushing like crazyyy” K stated as she grabbed the now empty tray and began to walk back towards the kitchen

“Guys come on! It was just friendly banter” I said shutting the pastry door

“Delilah knows her shit too, that’s how Danny and I got together” K stated from the kitchen

“Shut up! No way” I said rolling my eyes

“Sure did! As soon as we had an interaction K told me he’d be back for my number, and that was three years ago” K replied

“You just got lucky this was nothing but mere coincidence” I replied back to them

“You’ll see girl” Delilah stated as she began to make herself a coffee

Playfully rolling my eyes I checked the clock, I had about 10 minutes till my shift was over. I decided to make myself a drink.

As I made my iced latte I began to wonder. I didn’t really have many interactions with guys, but I think I’d know if someone was flirting with me.

It just felt like a friendly banter with an awkwardly shy….nerdy guy. Laughing to myself I finished making my drink.

“Alright girls I’m going to clock out now” I stated as I walked to the back

Punching out and grabbing my things I slid my apron off and grabbed my drink. Heading towards the front of the cafe

I waved bye to the girls as I took a sip.

“Have a good day girls” I said as I walked out

I had the whole day ahead of me and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do. My job was near a pier where I could always sit down and watch people.

Before heading to the pier I decided to stop for some food. Heading into a small restaurant I sat down. Taking my book out of my purse I began to write. I hadn’t written in two weeks and it felt wrong.

Ghosting my hand over the paper, my mind just kept going blank. I couldn’t form a proper sentence and my mind began to race again. Thinking back on that boy I began to think about my love life.

Honestly I didn’t really have one, I was more of a hopeless romantic. Often watching rom coms and rolling my eyes at how unrealistic that love was. I’m sure it was tangible, but I was just a sour puss.

I longed for a relationship like that to always know you’ll have someone there for you loving you unconditionally. To be with someone through sickness and in health. I was only 22, but it seemed to me that everyone around me already had that amazing soulmate. I was very clearly late to the game and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever find someone to love. I wasn’t even sure I was lovable myself.

Then again I never put myself out there, but times have changed. It's not that easy. Guys have become so shitty and all they care about it sex. But it’s like what about getting to know the person deep down.

Not once has a guy ever asked me my dreams and aspirations, where do I see myself in five years? What are my biggest goals in life? What’s my biggest fear….. I lost all hope for love by the time I was 18.

Reading romantic stories and watching these shows and movies definitely added salt to the wound.

I hadn’t realized how much I was writing till my hand began to cramp. Looking up I realized it was no longer daytime.

“Shit” I muttered under my breath

Slamming my book shut I paid my bill and began to gather my things. Walking out of the restaurant I stepped out onto the golden street. It was about 5:45 and I really couldn’t understand how that much time had passed.

I think that’s why I enjoy writing the most, I’m so far gone in my own world it’s like I’m frozen and the world around me continues to move.

Walking towards the pier it was surprisingly empty at this time. Breathing in the salty air I sat down on a bench. Watching the ocean I let the breeze blow through my hair.

Digging in my purse I pulled out my pack of American Spirits. Sighing deeply I pulled a cigarette out. As soon as I grabbed my lighter all the regret washed away from me.

Placing the white object in between my lips I flicked the lighter a few times before a glowing flame appeared before me. Guarding the flame from the wind I brought it closer.

Inhaling as I lit the cigarette all my worries washed away. This was only my second cigarette of the day and I somehow felt accomplished.

Kicking the gravel underneath me I took a long drag, exhaling I got up. Walking over to the edge of the pier I decided to sit down allowing my legs to hang off the edge.

I wasn’t 100% sure I could do this, but it’s worth a shot I thought to myself. Leaning my chin in the railing I took another drag as I stared into the sunset.

Life was so beautiful and I wasn’t sure why I was so sad and numb all the time. I took a lot for granted and I hated it.

I really needed to stop smoking.

“You know those things will kill you” I heard from behind me

My brows began to furrow as I took a drag

“I’m sorry?” I said annoyed as I looked behind me, blowing the smoke out through my nose as my face dropped

“You shouldn’t smoke” he said again with a cheeky smile on his face

Meeting eyes with the same guy from the cafe made my heart skip a beat and my throat go dry.

“Squinting your eyes is also bad for you” I said putting the cigarette out

“Won’t kill me though” he said shrugging his shoulders

“You never know” I said shrugging my shoulders and standing up

His eyes followed me as I got up and it was only then did I feel super self conscious about this whole situation. My embarrassment turned a bit into anger.

“Anyways you drink Pepsi, so that for sure will kill you” I said as I dusted my pants off

“Guess we’ll both be dead then” he replied

“Wow you’re super blunt” I said scoffing

“Sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come off rude. I was just playfully teasing” he said looking nervous

Looking at him for a split second and I sniffed and then rolled my eyes

“It’s fine. It’s a bad habit anyways” I replied shrugging my shoulders

“We all have bad habits we’re not proud of” he said in a whisper

“Are you uhh following me?” I asked him cocking an eyebrow

“What? No oh my god no! I was just walking and I thought you looked super familiar” he replied putting his hands out in defense

“I’m just teasing you” I said giggling

“I’m Matt” he replied placing his hand out for me to shake

“I’m Y/N” I stated as I shook his hand

“It’s nice to formally meet you” he said awkwardly

“Yeah” I replied awkwardly

“I’ll uh… ill let you go on about your business. Maybe I’ll see you around” He said

“Well you know where to find me” I said smiling at him

Opening my bag I was digging around for my phone before successfully pulling it out.

“Right, we’ll have a good evening” he said and waved shyly

“I’ll see you round Matt” I replied

Going our separate ways I looked down at my phone, 6:55pm…. Sighing, I walked back to my car close to the cafe and drove home.

Shuffling up the stairs I pushed my apartment door open after unlocking it. Making note that I must call the maintenance guy because that door needs some WD40 badly.

Locking the door I turned my lights on. Today just felt strange like I couldn’t put my finger in exactly what the fuck was going on.

Walking over to my patio I opened the sliding door and stepped out. Taking in the evening breeze my mind just went blank.

Stepping back inside I grabbed my purse, grabbing my lighter I shuffled my hand around my purse to feel for my pack of cigarettes. But my brows furrowed when I didn’t feel the square container.

Walking over towards the light I opened my bag more and looked inside. An annoyed feeling washed over me as I couldn’t find the box. I mean honestly good because I did not need anymore.

Still searching as if the box was going to magically appear. I groaned soon realizing I must’ve left them on the bench and they are for a fact long gone by now.

Throwing my lighter back into my purse I groaned and sat on my couch. The one time I desperately need a cigarette I fucking left it on the pier.

I cut that night short with a 80s movie marathon and left over pizza as a midnight snack.

remembering that tomorrow I had to stop into the cafe to pick up my paycheck. We’re living in a very digital world right now and my job still does paper checks….

Groaning at that I decided to call it a night….

The End

Okayyy IVE BEEN GONE FOR SOOO FUCKING LONG. And I’m sooo sorry it’s just life has been so crazy since March! However this was the end of part 1….stay tuned for more🥺🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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andreawritesit · 25 days

Text

WHERE DO BROKEN HEARTS GO

Synopsis: After being a part of the Donquixote "family" for 10 years, a certain clumsy man with a heart of gold helps you escape the cage.

Pairing : None really, a little Doflamingo x Reader; a little sprinkle of Corazon x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Doflamingo's backstory and Doflamingo himself.

She stirred in her sleep as a small hand tugged at the green scarf that was tied around her neck. Cracking an eye open, she looked at the boy trying to wake her up, his cheeks flushed. She sat up straight and held the little boy’s hands in hers.

“My my, you’re so cold Law! Come here, I’ll warm you right up. I’m sure Corazon will be back soon.”

Law nodded and huddled closer to her. She untied her scarf and wrapped it around his petite frame, calming his shivering body down. He seemed to immediately feel better as his teeth stopped chattering. She rubbed his arms up and down, while keeping an eye out for Corazon, who would be on his way back to them with the Ope Ope Nomi.

Hurry up, Rosi. I don’t know how long he can hold on…

Law had long fallen asleep and her eyes were starting to droop too. She slapped her cheek lightly to stop sleep from taking over her. Corazon should’ve been back by then but he was nowhere to be seen. Any hope she had left was slowly dying and terrible thoughts were swarming her mind. What if he got caught by the executives? Or what if Doflamingo caught him? He’s probably dead…

Snow was falling over them now as the little to no protection of the tree was rendered useless by the winds swaying the leaves around. Law was asleep but he didn’t look good at all. Most of his face had turned white and his cheeks were brightly flushed. Poor child. She looked up at the falling snow and her mind drifted to that day. The day her life changed. The day she met Donquixote Doflamingo…

--------10 years ago----------

Under the torn rug, a young girl with dark black hair lay hidden, hands over her mouth to stop any sound from escaping. She could smell the stench of death in the air as gunshots rang heavily around her. She couldn’t understand why the World Government would order a buster call on her island. In one instant, her entire life was turned upside down. The people who had miraculously survived the blasts were now being shot to death. A strangled sob escaped her lips and she quickly shut them together. The horror of being found silenced her voice and she closed her eyes. Her momentary peace was taken away as the rug on top of her was harshly pulled up. She opened her eyes and saw a weird man looking down at her. He had snot running down his nose and his appearance was quite disturbing.

“Nya Doffy, look what we have here”, he said to another person who was standing a little farther from her. As he came closer, she saw him clearly. He didn’t look that much older. He was wearing a wine-colored suit and his eyes were covered by sunglasses. He glanced at her trembling figure and said something to another man standing next to him. The other man was also weird-looking or maybe he had makeup on, she couldn’t tell. He nodded to the man in sunglasses who came closer to her and picked her up.

“Do you want to live?” His voice was deep. Perhaps he was older. She really couldn’t tell. All she managed to do was nod her head. He smirked at the response and handed her to the man in makeup.

“Corazon, take her to the ship. We’ll leave this island in an instant. The Navy will handle the rest of the cleansing.”

Corazon held her wrist and dragged her away from the place that used to be her home. She looked back at the now burned down house and a tear slipped onto her cheek. The man took her to a ship where other weird-looking people were waiting for them. She looked around trying to make sense of everything. Suddenly she felt someone’s hand on her cheek and she turned to see Corazon wiping her tears. He gave her a wide grin which she tried to return but all she could manage was a small smile. The man with sunglasses also boarded the ship and gave the orders to leave. Everyone on the ship seemed to be in good spirits except Corazon. He was solemnly sitting away from them, glancing back at the misfortunate island now and then. She decided to go sit next to him but was called out by the sunglasses man. She thought it best not to disobey so she went to him instead.

“What’s your name?” he asked her, sipping wine straight from the bottle.

She didn’t reply. Her name was something that reminded her of her parents and she didn’t want to remember them at all. Her head lowered as more tears slipped out. The man raised an eyebrow at that and with a sigh, put the bottle down.

“When I ask something, I want an answer instantly, do you understand?” His voice was stern. She wiped her tears quickly and looked up at him. He truly seemed to be young, maybe around her age.

“I apologize. My name is (___).”

“Hmm. How old are you?”

“I turned 18 last week.”

“Nya Doffy, she’s the same age as you but look how tiny she looks compared to you,” the snot-faced man commented and burst into laughter. No one else laughed.

“How would you like to work for me?”

She wasn’t sure what to say. They were pirates and she had no such talents that would suit such a life. But this was her only option. She had nothing else left.

“I’m not sure what I can do for you…”

“Fufufufufufu, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do.”

“Then I’ll be glad to help. You saved my life after all.”

“Young Master.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what you’ll call me.”

“Of course, Young Master.”

------------------------------------------

The first 3 years were very difficult for her. Adjusting to the Pirate lifestyle was the easier part. What’s difficult to learn was to live with Doflamingo’s family; to learn not to laugh at Pica’s voice, to learn not to make Gladius angry, to learn not to offend Doffy in any way, to not disobey him, and so on. If there was one easy thing, it was getting along with Corazon. She learned that he couldn’t speak but that didn’t stop them from sharing each other’s pain with each other. She soon learned that he was Doffy’s own brother and that he didn’t like how cruel his brother was. As for her role in the family, she was to look after the young ones, Baby 5 and Buffalo, and later Law. At least that’s what everyone thought. In reality, she used to sit with Doflamingo and listen to everything he had to say. One might say she was his therapist, only she couldn’t say anything. She listened and he opened up to her about his inner feelings and turmoil. He told her about his father – Donquixote Homing and how he had left his luxurious life in Mariejois. His father hadn’t thought about the repercussions at all and had led his wife to death and his kids to get tortured. His story gave her an understanding of why he was so cruel but it in no way justified his behavior as a grown-up. He was a tyrant and he knew it. She felt bad for him but she felt even worse for Corazon, whose real name she learned was Rosinante. He had gone through the same things that his brother had and yet he was a much nicer person. Over the years, Doflamingo had grown quite fond of her. Anyone who didn’t know him would think he was in love but he was incapable of that. The feelings he had for her were the thing closest to love but it wasn’t love. It couldn’t be, right? She tried to make herself believe that it wasn’t. However, his behavior indicated otherwise. He was much more polite and sweet to her than the other family members. He brought her gifts and took her sight-seeing. She thought it was a reward for listening to him without complaining. Perhaps it was. Or perhaps it wasn’t. Before she could find out, Corazon turned her life upside down.

It was after he overheard Law talking to Baby 5 and Buffalo. He had picked up Law hurriedly and dragged him into an alley. It might’ve seemed suspicious to anyone but she knew Corazon well enough. She quietly followed them and hid behind the wall to see what was happening. What happened there shook her to her core. He spoke. He spoke clearly and well and said some things that changed everything. After Law ran back, she came out of her hiding place and decided to confront Corazon. He told her everything, about the Celestial Dragons and the Clan of the D. She decided to help him get Law away.

---------- back to present day -------------

The boy and the woman were woken up by the loud gunshots. She got up quickly and picked up Law. He held onto her tightly as she took out her gun.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you with my life. Corazon will come here and he’ll get you away from here!”

“Both of us. Cora-San will save both of us.”

She nodded and held him closer, ready to shoot down whoever came down the street. Someone did come running their way but it was Corazon. She let out a sigh of relief as she recognized him. He ran to them quickly and took out a red fruit.

“Look! I got the Ope Ope Nomi! Eat it quickly. Doffy is here!”

Her eyes went wide and she looked around in panic. Law looked absolutely crestfallen and shook his head.

“Even if I eat it, there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to do away with my disease…”

Corazon grimaced at his words and put the entire fruit into his mouth.

“What nonsense are you saying? It will work. Eat it! Come on!”

Law swallowed the entire fruit and wiped his tongue in disgust. Corazon smiled at the boy and fell face first. Blood oozed out from under him and they ran to him.

“Cora San! What happened?” She turned him around and fell backward in shock.

“You’ve been shot!”, the kid exclaimed, panicked.

He began flailing his arms over his body. “Get better. Get better. Heal him. Stop bleeding! Stop!”

Corazon laughed softly and put his hand over his head. “I told you, it doesn’t work like that. It’s not magic.” He took out something from his pocket and handed it to her. “Give this to the Navy. They’re around the coast. Hurry up.” Before she could stand up, Law took it and ran off. She tried to go after him but Corazon coughed up blood and she decided to stay with him. She put her faith in the kid and began taking out the bullets that were in his body. She tore the sleeves off her shirt and wrapped them around his torso. He smiled through it all and kept looking at her.

“Why weren’t you careful, you idiot! If Doflamingo is here, we need you the most. How could you let yourself get shot like this!”

He clasped her hand and tugged her to himself. She leaned over him and with her free hand, she removed strands of hair from his face.

“Listen to me carefully. I don’t think I’ll make it out of here alive. Once Doffy finds me, he’ll kill me. Take Law and get away from here. Doffy must not get his hands on the Ope Ope Nomi. Promise me, whatever happens, you’ll live.”

She looked into his eyes and saw no fear. She kissed his forehead and smiled at him.

“Law will be free. And so will you. We’re all making it out of here. Hear me? All three of us.”

“Of course. We’ll all be free.”

----------------------------------------

Doflamingo held her wrist tightly as she once again tried to run to her friend lying in front of the treasure boxes. She knew Law was in one of them. Corazon had used his Calm Calm Fruit abilities on Law to make him silent.

“Why did you have to get in my way? Why must I kill another member of my family now?”

Corazon struggled to stand up but he did and pointed his gun towards Doflamingo.

“Law won’t obey you. Neither will she. They’re no longer prisoners, neither to their circumstances nor to you. They’re free!”

All hopes left her body as she heard the shot ring. Doflamingo shot his brother. Once, twice, thrice, a fourth time, a fifth, and finally a sixth, sending his body flying back to the treasure chests. A piercing scream left her lips as she tried to run to him once again but Doffy’s grip held her back. She looked up at his face which was stoic and emotionless.

“How could you?! How could you kill your own brother?!” Her voice was an emotional mess as tears flowed down her cheeks one after another.

He looked at her and tried to wipe her tears but she jerked her head sideways. “I don’t tolerate betrayals. He was my brother but he betrayed me. He only got what he deserved.”

“Then kill me too! I betrayed you too, didn’t I? I ran away from you! Kill me too you hypocrite!”

“Oh, believe me, I have much worse in store for you. You’ll never even dream of leaving me again.”

He turned to Trebol and nodded his head.

“Nya, get the treasure, and let’s leave.” They picked up the boxes and left. She kept looking back at Corazon’s dead body, hoping to see him get up but he lay there motionless. Now her only reason to live was to make sure Law got out of there safely. As they reached their ship, the Navy began firing at them. During the commotion, she saw Law leaving one of the boxes and running away. She let out a deep breath, happy that Corazon’s death hadn’t been in vain.

“Go Law, be free. Live a long and happy life, my boy. Rosi will look after you” she said under her breath as Doffy dragged her onto the ship.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #doflamingo x reader #corazon x reader #andreawritesit #one piece x reader

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justonemorechapternicercy · 2 months

Text

I wish a happy, peaceful and stress-free birthday to my beloved @unbeknownstunknown I hope your day will be at least okay, but hopefully as wonderful as you are. (I'm not sure if you still like Nicercy or not, but hopefully yes. 🫣) I love you my dear. I wish you the best, because you deserve it!

Grover knew things. Most people didn't realize that; next to the big Percy Jackson, he was basically invisible. Even after following Pan's footsteps, he was still just a background character. Not that he minded, of course! He'd rather be just a side note than live through what Percy had to experience in all of his life. (He would NEVER want to be a demigod. No way.)

So, it wasn't like he minded being forgotten by people who weren't his friends. It made it possible to see things; to hear things.

To know things.

Like how the Stolls did most of their pranks. Or how Rachel found the loophole in her virginity oath. (That one was not something he wanted to know. Like, come on, girl! With Thalia?! Not something Grover wanted to know about his friends…)

Or how Nico di Angelo has been in love with Percy ever since the first time he looked at him. And how the literal second half of his soul has been in love with Nico ever since the guy saved their asses in the Battle of Manhattan. To be fair… the two of them weren't subtle. (Yet they still didn't realize their feelings. Idiots.)

Usually he stayed out of other's lives. He knew their secrets, but they were not his to spread. He just kept them. Like pretty jewels on a shelf; pretty, but basically useless. He only interjected when it was really important. Like in the battles. When he had to notify Percy about new rumors from Olympus. When there were gossips about Juniper.

But… maybe some secrets were more important to share than to keep.

For years, he saw the pinning grow. How crush turned into love, how suspicion turned into blind trust. Sometimes he suspected he knew them better than they knew themselves. He'd seen them grow up, from naive mortals to battle-hardened almost-gods.

He was the happiest he'd ever been with Juniper; didn't Percy, his soulmate, deserve the same happiness? Deciding to get involved was a scary thought. But not as scary as it was to imagine his best friend settling down with not having the best thing for him. To imagine Grover getting married and having the love of his life for the rest of their immortal lives, while Percy was thinking he wasn't loved, adored and cherished by Nico.

That was unacceptable.

He loved Juniper. He wanted to marry her, to have children with her, to spend the rest of their immortal lives with her. And seeing Nico and Percy laughing with each other, “talking” without any spoken discussion, being so comfortable with each other, yet believing their feelings were unreciprocated… Grover knew.

They deserved to have the same thing he had with his beloved.

Getting the two together was probably easier than expected, but harder than it sounded. He went shopping for Juniper's ring, taking Percy and Nico with him. For moral support, of course.

Not because he knew that as soon as they would get into the store, the two of them would stare at the rings with interest. Nope.

“Nico?” Grover asked. The younger boy raised his eyebrow curiously. “Do you think Percy's and Juniper's fingers are the same size? I forgot to ask about her ring size.”

Nico thought for a second, turning his head to look at Percy. Grover already knew the answer. “Yeah, I think so.”

They looked at the glass, studying the rings under it for a bit longer. Grover imagined how the rings would look on Juniper's gorgeous finger, and he suspected Nico was also thinking the same, except in his mind it was Percy's finger.

The Sea Prince was walking back and forth in the shop, like the ADHD demigod he was, before he walked up to them, throwing an arm around Nico's shoulder to check on their progress.

“Percy, I need your help,” Grover said. “Your finger is the same size as Juniper's and I want to see which ring would fit on her.”

Maybe seeing a ring on Percy's finger, Nico would realize he should put a ring on it.

“What do you think,” he turned towards Nico, “would look the best on-? I mean… If you were buying a ring for Percy, which one do you think would fit?”

His two friends were staring at him, bewildered. Too much? Probably.

“That.”

But it worked. Nico's answer was too quick, his choice was too perfect to hide he was thinking about it before.

“Oh,” Percy sighed. The ring really was perfect. Thin silver band with a tiny blue stone in it; deceptively graceful, just like Percy was.

“I would wear it,” Percy confessed, eyes still on the jewelry, his ears suspiciously red.

“Oh,” Nico exhaled.

“I would…” the Ghost King coughed, light blush pinkening his unhealthy pale skin. “I would buy it. For you. If you want, that's it. From me.”

It was painful to watch. Like a chariot crash. But Grover couldn't look away. It was happening!

“I mean… if it was you buying it, for me… That would be. Uh. I'd love that?”

They were so awkward. It was adorable. Grover felt like he was both the proud big brother of both, and the long-suffering love expert who has been waiting for this moment for years.

“You- really?!” Nico looked so excited; like a puppy. Hellhound, Grover admitted, but a puppy nonetheless.

Percy swallowed. “Yes,” he breathed.

Nico's mouth dropped open a little, as if he was surprised at how easy it was. Well. Probably it was surprising for him. Grover knew.

“Would you- really? Will you… Is it just…”

Percy blushed, redder than Grover ever had seen him before. “I will marry you. If. If that's what you- Was that? I mean.”

“Yes.” Nico was nodding, like one of those little toy dogs in the cars, bobbing his head up and down. “Percy. Will you marry me?”

Grover sighed, not bothering to hide his proud smile. Finally! After years and years and years… It was finally happening.

“Yes.”

#percy jackson #nico di angelo #grover underwood #percico #nicercy #pjo #pjo fic #happy birthday kitty 💙💙💙

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brooooswriting · 1 year

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Hello broko loco it's been a minute.

So this idea just came to mind.

How about a Mafia AU.

Jenna x Mafia leader FR

So how about Jenna getting kidnapped by R's rivals and that's when she actually finds out r is part of the Mafia. Her being taken away, then R finds out before the other bitches make demands because... connections. And she goes on a killing spree just to save her girl.

Then they talk about everything [tragic backstory intestifies (only if you feel like it)] and Jenna ends up falling asleep in R's arms due to being exhausted.

Feel free to delete this if it makes you uncomfortable. Take your time ik you have situation pt 6 on the way that's why I'm insisting on this.

And I hope you have a great day<3

Should have told ya

Jenna Ortega x Mafia leader reader

A/n: I don’t know shit about the mafia and I couldn’t really find anything online that made sense to me😂

There was a part of your life that you didn’t like to talk about and you didn’t want people to know about. Sure that sounds drastic but everybody who knew was in danger too, so you liked to keep to yourself. You actually did in general, until you met a certain actress. You ran into each other when one of your newbies fucked up, you and your crew were in a hurry and one of them ran into her. In General no problem but you didn’t like the fact that he didn’t say sorry, sure you were a mafia boss but that doesn’t mean that you guys can’t be polite. Especially after you saw how pretty the girl was, you let the others walk past you as you hurried back to say that you’re sorry. And somehow a relationship built from that.

You still never told her that you were part of the mafia, let alone that you were the boss. Your mafia was kinda different thou, you didn’t like killing people for nothing and you didn’t like the rivalry between the different mafias, you believe that you did more of a good thing. You still killed people and did some dirty stuff but a lot of them were people who abused kids, rapists or stuff like that. Because let’s be honest, the law system was shit and someone had to do something.

But there were people who had problems with that, especially another mafia group in California. You liked to believe that this was the only useless blood flowing you were the cause off.

“Baby?” You called as you walked into your house, Jenna was waiting for you after a long day of work, you couldn’t wait to see her. “Jen?” You called out again, your voice louder this time, but there was still no answer. You called out again and again, dialing her number walking trough every room, she was nowhere to find, you even started calling her co stars but nobody knew where she was. You couldn’t help but panic as you called in some of your members, hoping that they would help you find her. It only got worse when you found a envelope in front of your house with headphones in it.

After around 20 minutes you sent 12 troops of 3 out to look for her all around the city, you and four others tried to track her. There was no luck in tracking her phone, it was either turned off or destroyed, but you did have luck when you hacked into some cameras of your rivals where you found Jenna sitting in an abandoned building, tears streaming down her face. Your blood boiled with anger, you immediately called everybody to the location, this was gonna be their end.

After around 10 black cars pulled up to the house you entered. They were checking each room, you darting for the living room where you thought she’d be but there was only one person, Tom, second man of your rivals. “Where is she?” You growled at him, having problems keeping your anger at bay. “You really thought we were gonna keep her here? You’ll give us what we want and then maybe, just maybe, you’ll see her again” that was enough for you, you nodded at Mike, your second man, who grabbed Tom to hold him still.

After you’ve punched him around 20 times his face was bloody, his nose and jaw broken but he still wouldn’t talk and it fueled your anger. “You know what, I’m over this and I’m over playing nice. Torture him until he talks and if he doesn’t? Kill him.” Suddenly the guy was panicked, you weren’t known for torture and you seemed so serious that it scared the shit out of him.

Not even 15 minutes after you’ve left you heard him call you causing you to grin. “Now you wanna talk?” You asked as you entered with a smile, “yes, she’s at the warehouse down south” he was heaving, tears streaming down his face while yours held a smile. “Good, keep him here, if she’s not there, kill him” after you hit him one more time you left with 10 more people.

“Alright, this time no talking. Me and Mike are going in and if there’s a problem I’m calling back up alright? Somebody gets in your way? Kill them, nobody takes my girl” everybody was surprised by your behavior, you normally were pretty chill and laid back and you never got close to anyone really. “We are going in”

You kicked in the door, making your presence known as two people already came running towards you. Each of you fought one to the ground, you slicing the throat of yours. It went like that until you had around 10 people down, most of them dead. After you killed the last one you finally saw her, they had stuffed her mouth, tied her to a chair and ripped her shirt to the point where you could see her bra. Their leader, Paul, a complete ass, stood in front of her saying something that made her whimper which made you growl.

You nodded at Mike before running off and tackling their boss to the ground, a surprised sound coming from the girl next to you. While you repeatedly hit the man under you, Mike cut the ropes to free the smaller girl who cowered next to him, the guy she knew as your best friend. “Never. Touch. My. Girl. Again” you stressed each word with a harsh hit to his face before finally standing up to look at Jenna.

“Are you alright baby?” Your voice immediately went soft when you talked to her, your hands reaching for her waist while hers landed on your shoulder. “You’re part of the fucking mafia” she gasped slightly pushing you away from her, “you’re not just a part, you’re the fucking boss” you studied her face as your thumb rubbed circles over her waist. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I thought it was saver when you didn’t know, I’m so sorry baby” you told her but she only shook her head. “Let’s just get out of here” she grumbled and walked away causing you to sigh. “Mike, go with her. She shouldn’t be alone right now” you told him as you knew that she didn’t wanna see you right now.

Mike jogged towards her until he was next to her, “you’re a part of this too huh?” She said looking straight toward. “Yes, but you shouldn’t be too harsh on y/n. She was scared of you getting hurt and when you disappeared today? It was the first time in 19 years that I saw her really scared, she would have blown up the whole damn world to find you” he explained as they walked up to your car. Jenna’s heart sank when she heard that, it did kind of make sense that you didn’t tell her but today really was a shock.

“I’m gonna let somebody drive you home… to your home and there’s gonna be someone stationed in front of your house the whole time” you told her as you opened the door for her as she nodded. “Goodbye Jenna, im sorry” you mumbled again before closing the door. Her heart sank again when you closed the door, the whole thing sounded like a forever goodbye. She hoped that you’d come to her house in a different car, but you didn’t.

She waited a whole hour before calling you. “Jenna? Are you alright?” You quickly rushed out the words as soon as you picked up the phone, “no! You’re gonna get your ass here and we are gonna talk about everything” you sighed, “Jen-“ “Stop it! Get your ass here right now” this time you didn’t protest, you said your goodbye and walked to your car.

When she opened the door for you, your heart sped up. She was wearing one of your hoodies that went to her knees which made her look adorable. “Come in” she said as she pulled you to the couch. “Talk” you chuckled at her bossiness but started nonetheless.

“My parents were shot in a mafia fight when I was 8, I was alone in their restaurant sitting next to their dead bodies when an old man came inside. Just minutes before I saw him trying to protect my parents, he introduced himself as Frank, saying that he knew my parents and that he was very sorry for their death and that he’d like me to come with him. He’d take care of me and he did, he did more than I could have asked for. Years later, I believe I was 14 I learned that he was the reason my family died, he was the reason they were involved in it. But I couldn’t be mad at him, my father decided to join on his own, he was a grown man after all and he tried to do good.” you took a deep breath, talking about your parents was still hard for you. Jenna noticed and slightly curled herself into you, the heat and the familiar feeling that radiated off of her comforted you. “Frank retired 5 years ago, making me the boss as I was like his daughter, I learned everything about it since he took care of me. We always tried to make this a better place which some of the other mafia groups didn’t like, which is what brings us to today. I never told you because I thought I could keep you safe that way, my dad told my mom and she died because of it. You’re my first relationship since I’ve been 15, I was always too afraid of putting them in danger. Until you came, you had this hold on me that I just couldn’t break your heart” you finished as tears welled in your eyes.

“Oh honey” Jenna sat herself on your lap with her arms around your neck pressing your face into her chest as you silently cried. “I get that you didn’t tell me but next time, just be honest so I know what I’d get myself into. I still would be here you know?” She pulled your head up to kiss you, you immediately kissed her back as your arms tightened around her waist to pull her closer. “I love you Jenna” you whispered against her lips, making her smile, “I love you too my little mafia boss” both of you giggled before she settled into your arms in a more comfortable position. You just held her for a moment, happy that she was still with you and that she was fine. “I wanna meet Frank this week” she mumbled sleepily and not even 2 minutes later she was asleep on top of you causing your heart to melt.

You carefully moved until you were laying on the couch with her laying on top of you, you kissed her head before closing your eyes too.

She is going to make a great mafia boss

#reader insert #brooooswriting #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #jenna

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