#but growing up my grandma showed me nothing but love

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Azul Ashengrotto - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Azul: That painting was done by a painter from the Coral Sea… I'm rather surprised at the number of merfolk focused paintings here in a museum on the surface.

Azul: I suppose I should expect nothing less from this Land of Dawning Museum with 100 years of history lining its halls. Their collection includes a wide variety of works.

Azul: Fufu, it does bring me pride a supporter of the museum. I must do my part well… Oh?

???: She's a lot bigger than I expected… Did the Sea Witch really need to grow to such a size…?

Azul: Well, well, Jamil-san. If there is anything I can elucidate you on this painting of the Sea Witch, I would happy to do so.

Jamil: Don't just listen in on someone else's personal mutterings like that. Your ears just pick up everything, huh.

Azul: The scene depicted in this painting is of when the Sea Witch was admonishing someone who tried to change their contract.

Jamil: And don't just start explaining without being prompted. Even I know about the story of when she transformed to that titanic size.

Jamil: But when I actually see this painting in person, she's just much larger than I had imagined… It's just hard to believe.

Azul: You believe this depiction is a fictional exaggeration of what actually happened?

Azul: I completely understand that. I had the same thoughts the first time I saw this painting.

Azul: Nevertheless, this painting has faithfully reproduced a well-known legend passed down in the Coral Sea.

Azul: The Sea Witch embodies the spirit of compassion. And yet, she also demonstrated her anger at the mer who broke their contract.

Azul: But all of it was for the purpose to reform the soul of the mer who had acted in bad faith!

Jamil: What, she disciplined them for their own good? …Actually, yeah, there are some people who don't learn their lesson from just a light scolding.

Azul: Indeed. That is how it is taught in the Coral Sea.

Azul: You cannot just spoil someone rotten, there needs to be some discipline as well. I believe that shows true compassion.

Jamil: I can't believe something reasonable actually came from your mouth… What's wrong, are you sick or something?

Azul: Not at all. I only say this because there was someone close to me who would do the exact same thing.

Jamil: You personally know a mer who is similar to the Sea Witch? Who could that be?

Azul: My grandmother.

Azul: She always dotes on me… And when I was a child, I was definitely spoiled rotten by her.

Azul: However, she didn't hold back on scolding me when I didn't heed her advice and mixed some dangerous potions together.

Azul: And that was beyond terrifying… She was as furious as whirlpools in a strait.

Jamil: Whirlpools in a strait, huh… I bet that was as intense at the Sea Witch in this painting.

Azul: Indeed she was. Even if I had wanted to swim away, my legs were shaking so much, I couldn't even move.

Azul: However, I do understand now that she was tough because she had been worried about me.

Azul: Even after leaving home, I diligently put forth the effort every single day while always remembering her teachings.

Azul: So whenever I go to work, I remember what she would say to me, and use that to strengthen myself before beginning.

Azul: She would say… "Become a mer who is capable of helping someone else."

Jamil: …I see.

Jamil: I gotta say, I wasn't expecting you to be that much of a grandma's boy. That's a bit of a shocker.

Azul: A grandma's boy… Well, I suppose. I am who I am now thanks to her.

Azul: Of course, it also wouldn't be incorrect to say that I learned the importance of proper compensation from her, either.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Azul: This is… a painting that depicts story of when the Fairest Queen disguised herself as an old woman and visited a young girl who lived in a forest.

Azul: If I recall, as a way to help the young girl in love, she personally came to deliver apples that the she needed for a dish.

Jamil: So she was going to get through to her love interest through their stomach, hm. If the Fairest Queen herself brought them all the way there, those apples must have been especially delicious.

Azul: Indeed, one can almost smell that sweet apple aroma just by looking at this painting.

Azul: I'm sure it would be rather difficult for a painter from the oceans to draw such a real-looking apple.

Jamil: You think? Apples are imported under the sea, too. I feel like they could draw it by looking at that…

Azul: Of course, we absolutely can get our hands of apples in the sea. However, there is a large difference in how the light hits it and how the color shines upon it when it is at the sea floor compared to the surface.

Azul: Unless that painter has spent enough years on land, the way they draw them will be completely different from how they look on land.

Jamil: Interesting. Speaking of differences, Azul… Is it true that things smell differently on land and in the sea?

Azul: Oh, you're quite knowledgeable.

Azul: It often does feel as though the same things smell differently under the sea or on the surface.

Azul: When I first came on land, every scent was new to me, so every time I came across something new, I made it a point to determine its aroma.

Jamil: You just went around sniffing everything left and right… Haha, makes me laugh just imagining it.

Jamil: I bet everything smelling different caused some confusion, huh.

Azul: I suppose so. However, I did make some new discoveries. I especially found my meal times to be very valuable.

Azul: I can never forget that moment I realized just how different the flavors of ingredients that we also had in the ocean could be just from the change in aroma.

Azul: People do often say that fragrance is a valuable part of determining the taste factor of a dish.

Jamil: That's true. Oftentimes spices are used as a way to add fragrance in the same way.

Jamil: So, what was the dish that made you realize that even the same ingredients could affect the flavor?

Azul: Just a simple grilled dish. Char-grilled meat or fish, for example.

Azul: Of course, I've eaten things made on land underwater before, but the flavor was completely different.

Jamil: Char-grilling, hm. I can definitely see that as having a different flavor, since those dishes heavily rely on aromas.

Azul: Indeed. As such, at Jade and Floyd's suggestion, we had a barbeque soon after we came to the surface…

Azul: However, our ingredients became charred due to our inability to control the heat properly, and smoke kept getting into our eyes… It was one hardship after another, since we had no idea how to do it effectively.

Azul: Not to mention that Jade and Floyd found it entertaining to keep blowing the smoke in my direction… It was a wretched time.

Jamil: Sounds like fun to me. I can picture just how disgruntled you must have been.

Azul: Oh, is that right? I'll make sure to invite you next time, Jamil-san, since you seem interested.

Jamil: …I think I'll pass, actually.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jamil: This is a painting of the Lord of the Underworld and his human helper from his legends, huh. This lady looks pretty unhappy.

Azul: It is said that they would have troubles compromising often, and it seems that she is very reluctant towards something here.

Azul: In addition, she had failed in a task that the Lord had given her, and made a major misstep by reporting incorrect information.

Azul: However, he didn't abandon her and instead gave her a chance to redeem herself.

Azul: How utterly generous he is… The Lord of the Underworld is a wonderful inspiration as someone who knows how to rouse his people.

Jamil: Well, I can't deny that, but… To me, there's something to be said about being too tolerant.

Jamil: I know I personally would rather not have an increase in workload because something gets promised without thinking.

Azul: Are you perhaps talking about matter of raising the PR level of Night Raven College that the Headmage requested?

Azul: When that topic was brought up in the last Housewarden meeting, Kalim-san was so forthright in accepting the task.

Jamil: You accepted it, too. This is an unbearable weight on me, and my fellow dorm students, you know.

Jamil: I get why softhearted Kalim took it on, but why would you go out of your way to accept this sort of annoying task?

Azul: No reason why… The Headmage was in need, so I volunteered out of the goodness of my heart.

Azul: Also… If this PR were to succeed, then it would be beneficial to me, as well.

Jamil: Beneficial to you?

Azul: If the good name of our academy is spread, then that will also reflect on us, you see?

Azul: More than ever people will recognize us as being students from that Night Raven College…

Azul: And if it is a grand success, then as one of the organizers, I may have the chance to grow my own opportunities.

Jamil: So that's why. You're completely different from Kalim, who just took it on because the Headmage asked.

Jamil: But anyway, this is all just hypothetical, right? There's also the chance that it's all just a waste of time and effort.

Azul: That is true. However, that is no reason to sit back and do nothing.

Azul: My main goal while at this academy is to maximize my own marketability before heading out into society.

Azul: In order to achieve that, there is nothing I am unwilling to do. I must take every opportunity that is given to me.

Jamil: Sigh, that's just like you.

Jamil: Speaking of which, have you already come up with how you're planning on increasing PR?

Jamil: I hear that the organizer will have to implement the best idea personally. That's a pretty hefty load, don't you think?

Azul: Fufu, I can't go into details, but… Of course, I've thought of some feasible ideas.

Azul: If you're interested, why not join us, Jamil-san?

Azul: It would be remiss if I were to completely monopolize this wonderful of an opportunity.

Jamil: No thanks. I'll be leaving now before I get wrapped up in anything troublesome.

Azul: Fufu, and there he slips away from me. …Hm? This painting…

Azul: It's the mermaid who fell in love with a human from one of the Sea Witch's legends. She seems so naïve and vulnerable; one prone to being led on.

Azul: Fufu… The world is cruel, after all. I wonder how much of reality she actually understood.

Requested by @pianostarinwonderland.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #twst azul #twst jamil #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: kalim #mention: jade #mention: floyd #mention: crowley

[surferblues]

nothing but trouble ! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

austin butler! elvis x fem! reader

warnings semi public sex?, praising kink, unprotected sex, very short, and obviously, sexual themed.

You and Elvis were strictly just friends, that's what he liked to call it. Nothing more than friends that enjoyed one another's company, one on one time, but as said... that's what Elvis liked to call it.

But you hated the title, the secrecy, and the bullshit commitment to only seeing him as a friend and nothing more.

Those were the rules he set, the rules he made sure were set in your head before he started this ongoing game of ... sneaking in your small bedroom every night just so he could seek for you to fill his pleasureful urges.

You spun at the sound of your window opening, book ready and weaponised in your hand as you waited with fearful breath for the unknown presence to reveal themself. "Elvis?" you muttered quietly, a scowl appearing on your face at the unexpected visitor.

as the sound of his name rolled off the tip of your tounge, the dark haired devil jumped , smacking his head into the rusted metal connected to the window, and scowling when you laughed.

"What are you doing? My parents are here!" You whispered loudly, fighting back the humourous grin on your face as he held his head in pain, a playful scowl still clear on his face. "I just wanna see my girl." Elvis muttered slowly, his scowl now replaced with a playful smirk as his feet lead him towards the bed where you body had been resting.

The boy placed himself on your floor, careful not to make too much noise so as not to cause suspicion from your parents down stairs.

"What happened to not sneaking around when my parents were here?" You voice laced sarcasm and annoyance, scoffing at Elvis as he sat on the floor near the end of your bed, right infront of where the upper half of your body was.

"They won't mind, just' oughta be quiet." his thick voice drawled out, placing a straight finger over your mouth before letting out a small "hush".

"Elvis, you know what would happen if my daddy saw you in here." You were basically begging him to not do anything stupid, the warning in your eyes evident. He chuckled lowly, nodding in an understanding manner before rising from the floor and walking towards your closed bedroom door.

"Your dad loves me, wouldn't lay a finger on me." Elvis placed his hand over his heart, hissing in fake pain, but the smile on his face showed the he was feeling nothing but pure humor and amusement.

"Even if he caught me wandering around in here." Elvis slowly began to turn the handle of your door, his mischievous smile growing wider just as the door opened wider. "he still wouldn't lay a finger on me." Elvis spoke in a volume above a whisper.

You quickly scrambled on your feet, as soon as you saw the hallway of your home, you were quick on your toes to shut the door. "Are you trying to get me killed!" You groaned out, pushing the taller boy away from the door and slamming the door with a bang.

"Come on, don't hold out on me. " Elvis cooed out, as your attempt in pushing the man away failed miserably so, he enveloped both of his calloused hands on your cheeks. "I've been good, all week just for you." he said in that dumbfounded tone he knew would make you fall to your knees everytime he used it, the same tone that had gotten you two in situations you would later regret the next day.

"Good as in completely acting as if I don't exist?" You lifted your eyes up to meet his, crossing your arms as a stern expression spread on your face.

"Y'know it's not like that, I just can't let the Colonel know that I gotta' girl." Elvis rasped, gracefully sliding his hands from your fleshed cheeks to your bare arms... you wished you could have opted for that grandma gown rather than the revealing slip dress.

You felt your skin prickle under his touch, his rough hands glding back and forth between your shoulder blades and elbows. "I know, it's just, i hate the sneaking around ." You words came out breathily.

"It'll only be a little 'while til I'll be able to show you off, show everyone your mine, yeah?" he nodded slowly, his thick accent drawing out as you pulley away from him with an slight irritated expression.

He relentlessly followed before letting out a sigh, his hand running through his greased jet black hair. You sat on the edge of your bed, looking at him with full of expectation.

"Let me make it up to you." He rasped out, nodding in an understanding manner as he lowered his eyes, seeking your face for any desperate form of confirmation. "My parents are downstairs." You reminded unsurely, but as soon as those unsure words left your mouth he shook his head.

"If you're nice and quiet, they won't hear a thing." He says in a readily way stays tall as he stands, his hands on your cheeks as you looked up in his direction with hungry eyes.

"lemme treat right, like you deserve, mama." he slowly whispered as sinked to his knees, seated right infront of you. his hand guided themselves towards your bare thighs, opening them... and giving him sight of where you needed him the most.

"elvis." you bit back, desperation and unsureness as you saw the way he kept his eyes on you with every inch he moved. " haven't even done anything, and you're already calling my name out." he chuckled cockily, gliding his hand gracefully between your parted thighs.

you hated how he cockily smirked as he felt the cloth that was basically with the juices that released everytime he spoke so dangerously, everytime he kept his eyes on you with the lustful waver, and everyone his fingertips touched you.

"Now, mama, tonight, I'm doin' everything in your favor. ." He whispered in a warm tone, pickpocketing the pink lace that had been on your body moments ago.

You shuddered at the new foreign feeling, his fingers lifting up the silk dress that rid up short. The new sensation of cold air hitting your upper thighs, and Elvis's new interest in making sure you were pleased. "I'll be real gentle, real nice." He nodded, sticking out two fingers before edging them towards your throbbing button.

#elvis smut #austin butler smut #austin!elvis #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis presley x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #elvis presley smut #austin!elvis smut #austinbutleredit #elvis presley imagine #elvis 2022 #baz luhrmann elvis #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler #elvis presley #elvis imagine

[starfxkr]

HIII im back :3 (i sent the thing abt the pope playlist!!) I wanted to ask if u think the girls (pup, kitten, foxy, bunny) wld have pets?? and if so, what pets and what wld their names b? i saw ur post abt kitten (I think) having a pet snake n i was just curious of the others !!

omg i love ur page sooo much i literally keep coming back every so often to see if u posted again bc UR MY FAV ACC EVER !!!! U literally got me into obx omg. n i wanted to ask if i cld be 🌈 anon?? i don’t think isaw it on ur list :p

firstly ty so much I love that I got you into the show because it has taken over my life I feel like a middle schooler again LMAOOO but I'm so glad you like my page

but yea!! I actually have thought about this soooo much

foxy has a pet snake that will almost always be around in some way like he's on her head or around her neck when her was small now he p much chills on her arm. probably named after her fav artist or something strange like a food or a random word because he was just "test subject" for a while. she has a ball python her grandma hates because she's super religious but he's actually so cute and sweet? who knew? pope was geeked to see she had a snake and she told him to calm down like it was common to have a snake she's a strange lady.

kitten is the only one to have a pet that matches her namesake. she has this mean grey cat she found as a stray when she was a few days old. literally heard her crying in the dumpster and crawled in to get her and skipped school to take her home. her number 1 napping buddy they be cuddled tf up. probably named after some obscure horror movie character. or she named her prince because she thought she was a boy at first. jj never had an issue with her cat being mean though, first day he came over he picked her up like a baby like it was nothing lol. the only cat he likes bc he's very much a dog person.

pup has like a hugeeee goldfish tank of ranchu goldfish specifically but she only has about 3-4 of them. she wanted enough that they could be social. very meticulous about them and it just really lights up her room and adds to that relaxed vibe. she's named all of them after her fav snacks. john b can't resist reaching his hand in to hold them (she says its ok she does it all the time) because he never saw fish like that before.

bunny absolutely has a little yorkie named something super cutesy but not dumb either? like she walked a fine line. but her pet is the newest compared to the other girls! she wasn't allowed pets growing up so rafe got her a dog for her birthday. he complains about him allll the time but is the first to carry him around the house or have him in his lap LOL. she loves her stinky little dog so much and has a whole corner of her room dedicated just to him. his bed looks so comfy she's jealous of it

#✨.txt #🌈 anon #fox!reader #kitten!reader #puppy!reader #bunny!reader #visuals

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Five

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 469 ~ Jake

The house sat at the top of a steep incline, up a winding driveway that had begun to be reclaimed by nature. Cracks in the cement where little shrubs had started to grow and leaves that were never blown away. Neglected and abandoned.

It reminded me a little of Josh's house. With pristine edges and white walls, coveted by obscure works of art. Book shelves that were gathering dust and kitchen utensils left out on the surfaces as if the owners had just stepped out of the room.

Amelia seemed to know where she was going. "I found this place a couple of months after I moved into Grandma's cabin."

She led me down a narrow corridor, flanked by a bank of full length windows overlooking a sweeping back yard that was shrouded by trees. Photo's of the family who once lived there sitting on the wall opposite, happy faces forever immortalised for no one else to ever see.

"I hit every house within a 10 mile radius. Looking for supplies, anything that I could use. Food, toiletries. And I was about to leave when I noticed this..."

She stopped at the end of the corridor, leaning against a nondescript door. Her face sincere as she ran hands up my arms, coming to rest around my shoulders.

"We have to take whatever joy we can find in this world." She said, "And if we're lucky, we'll take back some of the joys we had before."

I'd known nothing but joy since I'd almost died. There wasn't a single moment I'd had with her that hadn't made me question whether I would take any of it back to have the world filled with every other person I'd ever loved again.

It was something I'd wrestled with. The notion that I could happily exist in a world I'd come to hate simply because she was in it with me. I was thinking about Josh again when she opened the door, simply because I'd been reminded of him. And the certainty within which I knew I wouldn't take any of it back, even if it meant having him back, drew a conflict within the likes of which I'd never known before.

But it was all for nothing. As I stepped into the room she'd been eager to show me, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved her enough to never want the old world back.

"Amelia..." I gasped. "What in the...fuck."

Mounted on an oak panelled wall were an array of vintage guitars. A brazilian board 1959 Gibson Les Paul. Shining in the last rays of the afternoon sun. I reached out and touched it, trembling as my fingers remembered what it felt like to know strings. A custom Fender strat in dark red with a black mottled pattern that looked like spilled paint if you looked too closely. A plain red stratocaster and an acoustic Martin dreadnought with a mahogany neck.

"I know that you said you didn't play anymore. Not without your brothers. But I think you should play again. For them. To them. And maybe somehow, I don't know how insane it might be, but maybe they'll hear you. Wherever they are..."

She was nervous. Biting her lip and wringing her hands in the sleeves of her sweater. Anticipating that I'd reject the sweetness of her idea, of this perfect gift.

"You brought me here because you knew that I would love it, didn't you?" I asked, although it wasn't really a question.

"Is that so bad?" She replied, opening her arms as if I would somehow be mad at her.

The room was decked out with framed vinyls. Some were so old I'd never seen them before. There were a few more guitars leaned up against the opposite wall and a beaten up drum kit in the window. It looked as if it had been played to death, with the cymbals hanging off and the kick drum looked as if one more pound on it would tear it right in half.

"It's not bad at all, why would you think that?" I pulled her into me, her little body slotting into my embrace like it had always meant to be there. "Just because I said I didn't play anymore doesn't mean I wouldn't love this."

She rested her head against my shoulder. Let me sway her back and forth a little. Everything was so eerily quiet. Up here the wind howled a little more than it did around the cabin. It sounded like ghosts were singing to us, begging me to pick up one of those fine old ladies.

"Maybe I'm selfish. Maybe I just wanted to hear you for myself." She looked up at me, resting her lips on my jawline.

"Plenty have paid for the privilege." I replied, "What will you pay me for a private show?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I saved your life. This is you paying me, sweet thing."

She laughed and buried her face into my neck, kissing me there and holding me tight around my waist. Familiar and wholesome. Like she hadn't tried to push me away at all in the beginning.

She was the most incredible woman I had ever known. Her fears were like shadows now, she had this uncanny ability to turn them into her most beloved passions. Once she had been afraid to love me. And now, the ways in which she loved me were making me feel unworthy of it.

"Sometimes I don't think you realise how much you saved me." I told her, casting my eye on the acoustic. "Not just from that car wreck. But from a life of misery."

Of course I would play for her. If not her, then nobody. She made herself comfortable on a shaggy looking bean bag, folding herself into it and resting her head against her curled fist as she regarded me. I pulled the mahogany acoustic down from the wall, not wanting to tend to wires and amps just yet.

I considered coming up with something on the fly, but it had been so long since I had tinkered with strings that my mind began to wander so far away I couldn't make them work. I strummed a little, hearing the notes play out and something weird happened. I thought I'd never feel this ever again, this visceral wave that washed over me to the point of almost growing hard as I felt the back of the guitar against my groin.

Her eyes widened. She wasn't prepared.

"How does it make you feel, to have an audience again?" She asked softly, seductively.

The strings needed tuning a little. I turned the keys at the top of the neck, plucking out chords until they sounded pitch perfect.

"Sexy." I replied, "I always felt sexy whenever I went out on stage. They made me feel sexy. Kinda the same way you are now. Knowing they want to fuck you every time you play for them."

I didn't realise how much I missed the adrenaline. The feral cries of a crowd. Their voices rising in unison. Lights and screaming and the feeling that I might ascend with their love. I'd been someone in my life before. I'd known what it felt like to open my eyes and know I was doing something I loved completely. I hadn't felt like this in what felt like a life time.

"This is who you are, Jake." She uttered, sliding her hand down the curve of her hips. "You can't run from who you are forever."

I felt as if I didn't deserve her. For all she had done for me, for how incredible she was. There was no crowd that could ever compare to the way I felt in that moment playing for her.

"I can't sing our songs like Josh could." I confessed, "I'd be a poor imitation. But I'll try."

I couldn't hold the same power with my voice that my brother could. The part of me that had promised never to play again still sat in the shadows whispering to me that it would never be the same. But louder than that was Amelia's face watching me strum out the first chords of a song that meant everything to me.

"What's it called?" She asked.

Day 469 ~ Amelia

I knew he would love it. I'd all but forgotten about the little music room at the back of the big house on the corner of the road that led into Lafayette. It had meant nothing to me the first time I'd ventured in there. There was nothing in there that was of any use to me.

But today, it was like seeing the sun peek out from a grey cloud. I'd gone from doing everything in my power to ensure that he was never necessary to me, to doing everything in my power just to see him smile.

"It's called Broken Bells." He replied, "Josh used to say that it was about seeing that when things sometimes feel broken most of the time they're just lessons sent to help us see that everything will be alright in the end. I really wish he could be here to see that he was so fucking right."

What would I have done if he hadn't felt the same? I could feel myself dying a little inside at the melancholy way he played. His face expressing his grief. He played so hauntingly beautifully, in a way I hadn't really been prepared for. He closed his eyes and didn't even need to look at the way his fingers moved across the strings. He knew them, and they responded to him so lovingly. Almost as if they were an entity all of their own, able to come when he called.

If he hadn't have loved me in return I'd have been driven mad by it. Every rational bone in my body broken if I'd been forced to live beside him unrequited. I began to understand how lucky and fortunate I was as he began to sing. That he and I were somehow fated. And it wasn't just a coincidence that he was driving past me that day. He was creation and I was necessity. He'd made music for a world that needed to hear it and I'd treated them when they were sick. And for some unfathomable reason, we'd been left behind to exist together in this empty world.

But empty didn't have to mean broken. There was nothing but love in the world again. Nothing but this painful song that made tears spill from my eyes as I watched him and listened. What if this song was the only one being played? And the only one being listened to? I had hope that if anyone else had been left behind that they had somehow managed to find each other and find love within it.

"That was...beautiful." I sobbed, laughing at myself for crying at it.

He put down the guitar and came to me. Launching himself into the bean bag, the scrunchy sound of tiny styrofoam balls moving around as he wiggled into the space beside me.

"It always got an emotional reaction whenever we played it." He sighed, trailing soft palms down the side of my face. "It felt like people resonated with our songs for all different kinds of reasons. But with Broken Bells it always felt we were all on the same page. All of us feeling the same thing at the same time."

How could I have ever doubted him? This beautiful man with his beautiful music?

"I was just thinking, while you were playing it, that I hoped that somewhere out there that other people were listening to songs for the first time. That they'd found each other and found love, even in a world seemingly broken." I countered, feeling the heat of that familiar rush when I knew he was about to make love to me.

"If they aren't, then we have to love for all of those who can't." He said, trailing kisses down my jaw line.

Sometimes it felt silly. The things we said to each other. Things in the dead of night. In the cold light of day. In the middle of the afternoon when he was at his most sleepy, when he would linger in the kitchen looking to score a bowl of stew or soup before curling up on the couch with a book before he would fall asleep.

Even now, I could feel him nuzzle in. Our bodies entwined on the bean bag lazily tracing his thumb over my nipple as he sucked the flesh on my neck into perfect little shapes of his mouth.

"So, you really do like it?" I checked, just wanting to hear him say it one more time.

"Oh, yeah." He yawned, "That Les Paul is coming home with us for sure. And maybe I'll come back for the Strat, too."

I was wearing the black yoga pants I saved for hiking. The ones that I wore to collect fire wood. To muck out the horses and clear out the chicken coop. I never felt particularly sexy in them, or desirable. It felt almost like we'd become accustomed to seeing each other in our most desolate states.

But when he slipped them down around the curve of my ass and hitched me around so I was facing away from him, I was glad that I'd worn them. The way he pressed his hard on into my back and continued to roll my nipple around between his fingers as he breathed harder into my ear was the blessing I'd needed to know that I'd done the right thing.

We were both tired from the hike. Our bodies crying out for rest. The afternoon sun began to slip away, making room for cloud and darkness. I was acutely aware that there was no power in this house. No electricity. No running water. No heat. It was in my mind to interrupt his ministrations with these facts, but as his hand slipped below, coming up into my entrance from behind, I lost all manner of speech.

"You gonna let me thank you properly?" He asked, slaking two fingers inside me slowly. "Be my good girl and let me show you how much I love you?"

I was in no mood to protest. I watched the light outside fade as he ran stripes up my slit and into my clit. Whispering obscenities and freeing himself one handedly as he played with me. Letting his cock rest between his stomach and the curve of my ass, leaking a little against our flesh.

"Can you feel it?" He breathed, "How much I love you?"

It was all I could feel. There was no house. No darkness. No eerie silence as the wind rushed through the trees. Howling like there was someone out there to hear it. Only Jakes breath, the bean bag as it shuffled beneath us, and the sound of my untamed scream as he penetrated me.

He didn't try to quieten me. Buffeting my wild moans with deep thrusts that came like chasms to break me in half. Each time he bottomed out, he savoured it. Taking the briefest of moments to feel me clenched around him before pulling back slowly. The need to fuck and the need to sleep battling it out for supremacy.

"Pretty fucking grateful, aren't you?" I replied, leaning my head back into his waiting mouth.

When he was like this, all in need and eager to satisfy any way that he could, I often thought back to how it had been that first time. On the ground in the mud, knees caked in it and the earth beating in time with us. And how in the time since, we'd leisurely made love on the kitchen floor some mornings. In the shower, just stroking each other to pass the time. Him, on top of me, in the bed we now shared. And me, arms around the trunk of a tree whilst he fucked me from behind out in the woods even though it was still a little cold out there.

"For this pussy? Always." He purred into my ear, like he was serenading me.

I knew that I'd never tire of it. The way he felt inside me. The way he fit so perfectly. I never felt so full, like something had been made just for me. He wasn't just rhythm and blues, he was equipped to make me quiver with the mere mention that he might take me right there and then.

I'd lament it later on. How all my lovers before him had been lacking. How I'd swiped left and right, attended blind dates and settled when I shouldn't have. For men that couldn't make me cum or men who couldn't text me back.

"Mmmmm..." I murmured softly, arching against his quickening pace. "It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

The gentle laughter that expelled from his mouth against the shell of my ear was like summer rain. Teasing my senses, touch taste and scent. His hair was sweat drenched at his temples, as it often was when he fucked me, and I could taste the salt of it in his kiss.

"She speaks so highly of me." He breathed, "Now let her know no other man will ever have her..."

He would claim me. Over and over again. Even when there was no other to counter his claim. I let his hand wrap around my throat, edging me to the distance it would take to push me over the edge of the world. Thrusting into me so hard my entire body shook. I knew the bean bag had ripped at some point, sending the tiny little white foam balls scattered across the room. But I didn't care.

I'd keep finding them in strange places for weeks afterwards. As he rolled me onto the floor and continued to pound me, vicious and unrelenting. He'd never silenced my mewling cries before, content to let them ring out into the ether.

But not this time. It was like his gratitude couldn't be satisfied until he could hear the one sound he desired. His body raged on top of mine, our clothes half on and half off. His sweaty palm came to rest over my open mouth. Muffling my cries to a dull humm. His eyes silently pleading with me to let them die. And to just listen...

"Hush." He encouraged, resting his mouth against the back of his hand as he continued.

There it was. Against the backdrop of the breeze outside. The sound of how wet I was. His cock hitting my satiated pussy. Moist flesh against moist flesh. The most inconceivable feeling washed over me. This man, the only man that ever was, wanted to silence my mouth only to better hear the sound of my pussy being fucked.

And the drop of his eyelids as he listened had me in another state of being. Half closed and fucked with desire for the way it slipped in and out, wet and completely his.

"Thankyou, my love." He whispered, before he allowed himself to cum.

I was never certain if it was for the music, or the way I let him fuck me. I didn't really care. I let my own orgasm rise moments later, the two of us breathless and spent on the gutted belly of that old bean bag.

Day 470 ~ Amelia

We hunkered down for the night. Choosing to make our way back at first light, gathering all the blankets we could find and sleeping on the couches that were, quite simply, more luxurious than any couch we could have gotten in the cabin.

Jake took the one opposite me, falling asleep first. His gentle snores lulling me into my own dreams. It felt like no time had passed at all before my eyes sprang open, the red of morning creeping in.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched. Taking a moment to recall where I was. This place was eerie, even in daylight. And I wished that there were something, anything...that would remind me that people had once lived here. The ticking of a clock, perhaps. Or the grass being cut outside. I could have laid there a little longer, still tired and drowsy, but I was eager to be gone.

I kicked off the blankets and expected Jake to be laying there, ever the one to wake up last, but my heart fell into my stomach at the sight of the empty couch. Blankets still left precisely where he had kicked them off.

"Jake?!" I called, expecting his voice to filter down the hall from the music room.

Silence.

"Jake?!" I called again, pulling on my pants and shoes as I made my way through the house.

I expected to find him gathering up all the instruments he wanted to take. Agonising over which ones to take now and which ones to come back for. But there was nothing but the aftermath of what we'd done. And all the guitars were accounted for.

"Jake, this isn't funny." I cried, checking behind the curtains like a child playing hide and seek. "Jake, I'm being serious now!!!"

Panic began to rise in my chest. My heart soaring, making me dizzy as I flew through the house. Room after room coming up empty.

"Jake!!!" I screamed, running now. "Jake please!!!"

Had I ever given myself permission to imagine this, I would have driven myself mad. That one day he would simply vanish, like everyone else had, and truly I would have walked to my death in that moment. I had no desire to live in a world void of the man I loved.

"JACOB!!!" My voice broke on his name as I fell out of the door and into the back yard. "PLEASE!!!!"

I fell to my knees on gravel. Crying. Racking sobs expelled from me as I took fists full of tiny pebbles that cut into my flesh as I squeezed. I felt as if I couldn't breathe. My chest was tight, all the horror of him disappearing coursing through my veins as tears spilled down my flushed cheeks.

"Jake, I can't do this...you have to come back..." I begged, broken and beyond redemption.

In a matter of moments I'd gone from waking up, to screaming on my knees. I'd have thought it a nightmare had I not already endured one. The reality of this feeling was one I knew. Only this time, intensified by a love that had known no bounds. I could live in an empty world before I'd ever known him.

Not anymore.

To be Continued...

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@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy @char289

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf #gvf fanfiction #fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader

[onceuponastory]

ghost story - the winter soldier x reader

Plot: As she got older, Y/N stopped believing in ghost stories. That is... until she finds one fast asleep and bleeding out on her grandma’s couch. The Winter Soldier was taught never to leave any witnesses, and he intends to follow his training... until he finds Y/N staring down the barrel of his gun. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, kidnapping, violence, blood, injuries/wounds (nothing too graphic though), pain, nightmares, weapons, and everything Bucky did as the Winter Soldier, and had done to him by HYDRA, specifically how they likely didn’t feed him. Please use your own discretion. As always if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is sorta my alternate ending/continuation to CA:TWS. I’ve had this fic in my drafts for ages, and I finally finished it. I hope you all love it as much as I do. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

Turning up the drive, gravel crunching under her tires, Y/N soon spots her grandmother’s house as it looms out of the fog. It’s just as big and creepy as she remembered, especially as the trees turn bare and the nights grow colder and darker. When it’s like this, it looks even more like the stereotypical haunted house that everyone always said it looked like. But now that her grandma’s gone, and the house is all but abandoned, it’s even creepier. Stepping out of her car, the cold autumn air hits her, and does little to stop the fear from spreading throughout her body. Of course, when Y/N was a kid, she spent plenty of time ghost hunting in the house with her grandmother, and getting used to its familiar creaks and groans. But as she grew up, she realised the house was not haunted at all, and the ghost hunting game with her grandmother was just that: a game. Although... its spooky appearance and the endless forest surrounding it do little to help challenge its haunted moniker. 

As the chilly wind howls again, sending a shockwave through her entire body, Y/N shivers, pulling her coat and scarf closer around her. And then, she advances up the steps to the front door.

Almost two weeks ago, Y/N's grandmother passed away, and since she’s her only living relative, Y/N has to sort everything out. First, she has to clear out her house. Unlocking the door, Y/N steps inside. Immediately, the air is melancholic. She spent so much of her time in this house that not having her grandmother here to greet her with tea and her fresh baking is strange. Yet, something seems off. As if someone else is here with her, and that she’s not as alone as she thought. Maybe the ghosts are finally coming out to play. 

Y/N takes a few steps forward, her footsteps creaking on the floorboards and echoing through the house. As her brows furrow, another chill blows through the house. Her grandmother’s house was draughty, but never this bad. Maybe it’s just the house showing its age. Or at least, that’s what she hopes it is. But as she steps further into the house, something crunches under her feet. Shards of broken glass. Y/N sighs frustratedly. Damn kids probably broke a window.

Still, Y/N registers her heartbeat rising ever so slightly with every step she takes. She just can’t shake the feeling that someone is here, watching her every move. “Ghosts aren’t real. It’s just your imagination. It was always just a game.” She whispers, repeating it like a mantra to calm her down. If only it worked.

Warily, Y/N moves into the living room. Almost immediately, her eyes land on a sleeping form on the couch. Her heart jumps into her throat. Pinching her skin hard, Y/N hopes it’s just a dream, that her mind is playing tricks on her and there isn’t actually a random man asleep on her grandmother’s couch. However, no matter how many times she tries, the man is still there. 

And then, she screams, startling the man awake. He jumps up immediately, his blue eyes staring over at her. Within moments, he pulls a gun on her. 

“Who are you?” He orders. His voice is deep, and slightly Russian accented. Y/N holds her hands up in surrender, shaking. And this time, it’s not from the cold. She considers making a break for the door, hoping that if she runs fast enough, she’ll be okay. “No. Stay.” The man responds, as if reading her mind. He gestures with his gun, ordering her to come closer, which she does. Warily, she glances down the man’s body, staring at his enormous arms, both muscular and metal. Then, her eyes turn to all the other guns and knives strapped to him. Ones that she definitely doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of. 

“Who the fuck is this guy?”

“Answer me.” The man demands.

“I-I’m Y/N. This is my grandma’s house. I’m here to clear it out.” She gasps, hoping it’s enough to save herself. The man furrows his brows, continuing to stare at her. His metal arm whirrs, flexing slightly, which does little to quell Y/N’s alarm. “Please, don’t hurt me. I didn’t do anything or see anything. I promise.” She begs, tears already streaming down her cheeks. Briefly, something shifts in the man’s expression, and his features soften. Almost as if he feels guilty for the fear he’s caused. However, it disappears almost as soon as she notices it.

The Winter Soldier stares at the woman, Y/N, watching as she sobs and begs for her life. She’s terrified of him. Just like everyone else was when they found themselves staring down the barrel of his gun. HYDRA always taught him not to leave any witnesses, because anyone could destroy their mission if they saw something they weren’t supposed to. And the last thing he wants is to find himself on the receiving end of another punishment at the hands of his superiors. The various bruises and injuries he’s accumulated over the years throb under his tactical gear, a harsh physical reminder of all that he’s endured. After all, that’s why he ran away. He’s just so tired. Tired of being their personal punching bag, and of being tortured and punished time and time again, despite how much they all praise him and the work he does for them. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know how long he’s been running. He just had to get away from the pain, and from the faces and the screams seeping back into his memories. The memories that are also starting to fill with fresh faces, ones he’s sure he’s never seen before…yet somehow, they looked at him like they knew him. 

“Bucky?” A whisper of a voice echoes in his mind, but it’s gone before he can dwell too long on it.

Perhaps, deep down, he thought that if he ran far enough, he’d be able to figure himself out. Or at that he’d at least outrun his demons. 

After some time, he found this house. Abandoned and offering some solitude, he saw it as the perfect place to finally get some sleep. That is, however, until the woman’s screams woke him up. And now, here they are. Yet, something about her is different. There’s some kind of familiarity there with her, something he doesn’t know how to explain. What he does know, however, is that despite how much she begs for her freedom, he can’t let her go.

It hurts, but this is how it has to be. This is what he was taught. 

Leave no witnesses. 

But as the woman’s cries continue, for once, he wants to abandon his training. He doesn't want to kill her. In fact, he almost feels pity for her. Deep down, her cries are shaking him and his morals to their core. “Please, just let me go. I won’t say anything, I promise.” She repeats, her body shaking as tears stream down her cheeks. And then, he comes up with an idea. One to save them both.

“No.” Her face falls. “You stay here. With me.” 

“No, I can’t! I have a life, a-and-”

“Stay!” He shouts. The sudden volume makes her jump, and her tears intensify as she sobs even harder, her entire body shrinking away from him. As her cries sink into his every being, another pang of guilt strikes him again. This poor woman has done nothing wrong, and now she’s terrified for her life because of him. He steps forward, reaching out a hand to comfort her. Briefly, after being a mindless killing machine for so long, his humanity returns, and he considers letting her go. For a moment, Bucky Barnes returns. 

But then, just before he’s about to offer some reassuring words, HYDRA’s programming kicks in once more like a virus, seeping into his mind. And he becomes the Winter Soldier once more. Who says she’s safe, and that she won’t just turn him into HYDRA at a moment’s notice? And then he’ll be back to being tortured over and over again. Reflexively, his body tenses, and hot pain flashes through him once more. He can’t take that risk. So she has to stay here, with him. That way, they’ll both be safe. This is the only way, the best way that he can ensure his survival without killing her. She’ll learn soon enough. “Just…stay out of my way.” He grunts, storming out of the room and leaving her crying. 

Even though her tears still strike guilt into his heart.

From then on, Y/N stays out of the man’s way as much as she can. The last thing she wants is to make the wrong move and end up dead. Thankfully, since her captor seems to stay in just the one room all day every day, she has free rein of the house, and can clear it out just as she wanted. Although, Y/N knows she could be forgiven for being preoccupied with the weapon wielding maniac downstairs.

Yet, she can’t help but feel, in some small way… worried about the man she’s now sharing her life with. He spends all day, every day inside, just staring out of the window. His hand carefully rests on the various weapons strapped to him, almost as if he’s waiting for something or someone to attack. The sounds of her moving throughout the house don’t even phase him anymore. He just…sits there, like a statue. Or a hyper vigilant, intensively trained assassin. Whilst a small part of her appreciates how protective the man seems, his refusal to move or to even eat something strikes her as concerning. Something deeper is going on… something Y/N wants to understand.

However, despite her worry for him, she doesn’t speak to him about it. After all, he is holding her captive. So, she watches from afar, wondering when, if ever, she’ll be able to help him.

Later that night, Y/N falls asleep, calm and off in a dream world. That is, however, until an earth shattering scream sounds from downstairs. Immediately, she springs awake, sprinting downstairs. Judging from the scream, she’s expecting to find bloodshed, and the body of some poor soul who was at the receiving end of the man’s various weapons.

Yet when she makes it downstairs, she finds the complete opposite. Aside from them both, the house is empty. Nevertheless, the screams continue… meaning there’s only one explanation for who they’re coming from. Warily, she steps closer to the sound of the noise. The man is still laid out on her grandma’s couch, but yells out over and over, thrashing around in his sleep. For a moment, Y/N wonders just how much pain and torment he must have experienced for his screams to sound so anguished. “Wait! Calm down! It’s okay!” She calls, getting closer to him. The danger she’s putting herself in, and her previous apprehension doesn’t even cross her mind. All she wants is to see that the man is alright. Once he’s awake, he stares at her, blinking in confusion. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s just me. You’re okay.” She soothes. 

“I thought I told you to stay out of my way.” Although, after waking up to HYDRA agents every day for god knows how long, seeing Y/N is a welcome breath of fresh air. Yet, he knows he can’t get too close. It’s too risky. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” The words leave her mouth before even thinking about them. He frowns, almost as if he’s wondering why she cares so much, why she thinks he’s even worth helping. And it breaks Y/N’s heart. Sure, they didn’t get off on the right foot, but he’s clearly hurting, and deep down she hates seeing him so upset. But then his face hardens once more.

“No. Go away.” He repeats, shaking his head. Despite his orders, Y/N stands her ground, refusing to go. 

“I don’t want to pry, but… I want you to know I also want to listen, if you want someone to talk to.” She reassures him, taking a seat on the chair opposite the couch. “Your screams, they sounded... awful.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” The man murmurs softly. “After what I did?” Y/N shrugs. Honestly, she’s not even sure if she knows the answer to that herself.

“I just want to help. That’s all. And besides, I was already awake when I heard you screaming.” She lies. Again, he furrows his brow, as if he doesn’t believe her. Yet, he stops telling her to go. The room falls silent, each looking at each other but unsure of what to say next. “Do you need anything? Some food, some water?” Y/N asks, breaking the silence. Another shake of his head.

“I’m not worth this help, Y/N.” Despite how much his self loathing hurts her, she can’t deny how, as she hears her name leaving the man’s lips for the first time, Y/N’s heart beats ever so slightly faster.

“Honestly, it’s okay. When I heard you scream, I got kinda worried about you. It sounded so painful…you really got spooked, didn’t you?” The man looks pained, yet still refuses to meet her gaze, almost as if he’s ashamed of her seeing him in this state. And that thought breaks her heart. He may have scared the shit out of her, but she wants to make sure that he’s alright. Sighing, Y/N moves closer. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. I just want you to know I’m here if you need someone to talk to.” 

The Winter Soldier watches Y/N curiously, waiting for the caveat, for the violence that he’s been so used to for so long. Because nobody is ever just nice to him anymore, they only do it just so he can do what they want. Unsurprisingly, HYDRA didn’t care much about his health and wellbeing. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? I was staying for a while anyway, so I brought some stuff with me.” Y/N’s offer makes him even more confused. Even if she does genuinely want to help, why is she doing it now, when he told her to leave him alone? And especially since he’s kidnapped her? 

“Why?” Y/N shrugs.

“I don’t know. I just thought that it’s nice to share. And besides, we’re both stuck here, miles from the nearest town. This is all we have.” It’s only then that he realises he doesn’t know when the last time he ate was. Yet although something to eat does sound good, he still doesn’t trust her fully. After all, what if it’s poisoned? What if he wakes up back in HYDRA’s grasp?

“No.” He shakes his head. Deflated slightly, Y/N nods. As he goes to lie down again, he turns his body a different way. Suddenly a sharp, shooting pain strikes his side. Furious expletives and hissing fill the room, and curiously, Y/N peers over. She sees a deep crimson seeping through his tactical vest, and she gasps. 

“You’re bleeding. I should call an ambulance.” At the sound of the word ambulance, he gasps. 

“No.” He repeats. If he goes to a hospital, then there’s a chance HYDRA could find him and bring him back to the same life he spent so long running from. There’s no way he’ll let that happen.

“I know it’s scary, but it looks painful, and-”

“I said, no! No hospitals.” He clutches madly at his side, wincing and writhing in pain. As Y/N watches him, pity overtakes her fear. This man needs her help.

“Do you want me to look at that, at least? I can try to help stop the blood flow.” She asks, walking towards him. Immediately, he flinches away from her. Every other time he’s been in pain, all he remembers is more pain. He doesn’t heal, he survives. And he’s survived for this long by gritting his teeth and baring his injuries, so he can easily do it again. Even though he’s in so much fucking pain. 

“No.” He growls, clutching at his side and hissing. As his face contorts into a grimace, warily, Y/N steps even closer. “What part of no don’t you get?” However, his words don’t stop her. Although this man definitely looks like he could and would murder her, and was obviously very close to doing so… the sound of his pained cries still sting, and she wants to help him.

“It looks bad. I’m not much of a nurse, but it looks like you’re in a lot of pain. And honestly, if we’re going to be stuck here together, I’d rather not have you bleeding out on my grandma’s couch.” She chuckles awkwardly. He peers over at her, his brows furrowed. Yet, Y/N still stares at him, the same soft smile on her face. Why won’t she just leave him to go through this in peace, like he deserves? But then, the pain strikes him again, and he groans, realising he doesn’t have much choice. Maybe this time, he needs to heal. And so, he nods.

First, Y/N takes off every layer of clothing until the wound is visible. As she unbuttons and unbuckles every article of clothing, her fingers gently brushing against his exposed skin, he feels a strange, new feeling inside. He doesn’t understand it, but he does know that he likes it. Y/N's breath hitches in her throat as she stares down at his bare chest. God, this man is attractive. Or at least, his chest is. But then, she notices various other marks and scars on his body, some recent, but most faded. Pity fills her veins once more. Whoever this man is, it looks like he’s been through the wars… and has been for years. “So….” She trails off as she works on his wound, completely unsure what to say to this incredibly attractive man who’s also holding her hostage in her grandma’s house. As she cleans the wound, he hisses, and angry Russian curse words fill the room once more. “Sorry! I’ll try my best to be gentle, but it will probably sting a lot.” 

Silence falls as Y/N continues working on the wound. Although the experience is painful, there’s an unfamiliarity to it. And something about that unfamiliarity feels comforting to him. His eyes look over, staring as Y/N wraps a bandage around his side. The moonlight streams through the windows, illuminating her face, and the strange feeling from before returns. Although this time, it makes him feel all warm inside. Maybe this is how it feels to be finally cared for after so many years of pain, nightmares, and torture. To have someone actually give a shit about you. However, before he can think too much about this feeling, Y/N speaks up.

“Can I ask you something? What’s your name? I feel weird that you know mine, and yet, I’m helping you and I don’t even know yours.” His brows furrow. Nobody has ever asked him his name before. And he doesn’t even remember it anymore. As he struggles to remember, Y/N’s face falls. “Does he really not know his name? God, this guy really has been through it.”

“Bucky!” The same whisper echoes in his mind again. Maybe this is it. Maybe his mind is starting to remember. 

“I-I think it’s Bucky.” Y/N smiles. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” Bucky. That does sound right…especially when Y/N says it. As she finishes up, Bucky takes his turn to ask something.

“Why…did you help me? After what I did?” Y/N frowns, shrugging again, as if it’s obvious why she would.

“Well, you were in pain. And besides, you haven’t killed me yet.” She laughs awkwardly. “For some reason, I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt. Do you….” She trails off, and Bucky already knows where this is going. “Do you mind if I ask you what happened?” Memories flash through Bucky’s mind, hazy, choppy memories. Of guns and knives and pain. Oh god, so much pain. Too much pain. 

Seeing how worked up he’s getting, Y/N interrupts him by placing a hand on his metal arm, pulling him out of his panic. Reflexively, Bucky flinches, jolting it away. “I spooked you, didn’t I? I’m sorry. It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” She soothes. And for a moment, both Y/N and Bucky realise how much they liked that sensation of being close to one another. “That’s you all done, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll um. You probably want to be alone, so I’ll leave you in peace now.” She murmurs, walking towards the doorway. Bucky feels his stomach rumble, and he sighs. She treated both his wounds, and him with kindness. Maybe he is safe. For now, anyway.

“Wait.” He calls, and Y/N turns around. “Can…I please have some food?” He expects her to say no. After all, HYDRA rarely, if ever, fed him. He doesn’t expect her to either. Especially after how he snapped at her. Yet, Y/N’s face softens once more. 

“Of course you can. Do you want a sandwich?” Bucky nods, and she leaves the room. Bucky's face stays imprinted in her mind as she heads towards the kitchen. His eyes were almost pleading when he asked her for food, almost as if he expected her to say no, and that he would understand if she did. The multitude of scars and wounds covering Bucky’s torso enters her mind again. Even though he’s keeping her locked away in her grandma’s house, Y/N still feels bad for him. If someone’s been treating him like that for god knows how long, who’s to say that they haven’t been malnourishing him too? Poor thing. And besides, he hasn’t killed her yet. Maybe he’s not so dangerous.

“Where the hell could he be? He could’ve gone anywhere.” Steve sighs, glancing at the screen. He must’ve looked at the same spot on the map for hours now, just looking for anywhere Bucky could be hiding. That is, if HYDRA didn’t get to him first.

“Steve. Don’t stress yourself out. We’ll find him.” Sam reassures, and Steve sighs. 

“I hope you’re right.”

Meanwhile, Y/N and Bucky sit together, eating. Well, one of them is still eating. Bucky wolfed his down almost as soon as he got it, strengthening Y/N’s belief that wherever he was kept, he must not have been fed. She considers asking him about it, but then she remembers where she is, and the circumstances that led to this moment. And besides, that’s a weird thing to ask anyone, let alone the guy who’s essentially keeping you prisoner. So, she keeps quiet.

“Thank you. For the food.” Bucky mumbles, and Y/N looks back up at him. A small smile graces his features, and immediately Y/N smiles back at him, feeling heat building and settling on her cheeks. He has a lovely smile. She was right. He’s kind of cute.

“No problem.” An awkward silence descends on the pair once again. Both look at each other, each wanting to say something, but still unsure of what to say, neither knowing what would be the right thing to say in this circumstance. 

And so, they sit together for a while, just sitting in silence. Y/N’s brain feels like it’s going a mile a minute with thoughts of Bucky, and how sorry for him she feels, despite everything that’s happened. In another life, she’d like to get to know him. 

Little does she know, however, that Bucky is going through the exact mental turmoil as she is.

After some time, Bucky lays back down on the couch, his breathing stilling. Warily, Y/N tiptoes over to him, peering down. Bucky’s asleep again. When he’s asleep, he looks dead to the world. Clearly, he must really have needed this rest. Yet, she keeps a watchful eye on him, just in case he has another nightmare. Or in case he tries to kill her. 

Once she’s sure that Bucky is asleep, Y/N opens Google on her phone. The soft light of her screen illuminates the room, and for a moment she worries the light will wake up Bucky. However, when she glances over, she sees he’s still fast asleep, so she lets out a sigh of relief. Opening the search bar, she types in Bucky’s name. Hopefully, this generates something to help: a post from his family or friends, or even a news article about his disappearance. Someone must be missing him. 

Once she hits search, her screen is immediately filled with results. To her surprise, though, the results are nothing like she expected.

Various pictures of Bucky without his tactical gear pop up, including ones of him in an army uniform. An ancient looking uniform, one that looks like it’s from the 1940s. Y/N frowns, even more confused about the sort of person he is. She scrolls down further, looking at the headlines, which confuse her even more. 

“Bucky Barnes: The Howling Commando.”

“The Howling Commandos and WWII.”

“Bucky Barnes: The Life and Death of Captain America’s Best Friend.”

One word stands out. Death. Y/N’s eyes widen. The guy who’s sleeping on her grandma’s couch, the one who showed up out of nowhere with a gun, is supposed to be dead. He’s a ghost story. Warily, Y/N looks over at Bucky, watching as his chest slowly rises and falls. 

If he’s a ghost story, who’s to say she won’t be the next one? Maybe he will kill her after all. 

Suddenly far too scared to go to sleep, Y/N sits in the armchair opposite the couch, scrolling through the articles on her phone and learning everything she can about her new houseguest. He fought in World War Two alongside Steve Rogers, his best friend. Of course, she knows who Steve Rogers is. After all, she’s seen enough pictures and videos of him in his Captain America uniform, wielding the shield and saving the world. It turns out Bucky fought by his side for most of the war. At least, he did until his ‘death’. And now he’s here, sleeping beside her and very much alive. She glances over at him once more, just to make sure she’s safe. Bucky looks so peaceful when he sleeps, his lips slightly parted and his long hair falling in his face. For the first time since she’s met him, Bucky finally looks relaxed. In fact, he doesn’t look dangerous at all. As she watches Bucky, a strange feeling settles in her stomach, and her fear dissipates a little. 

If Steve Rogers, Captain America of all people, trusted Bucky to fight alongside him…maybe she’s safe around him after all. And besides, if Steve Rogers can come back from the dead, who’s to say Bucky hasn’t either? 

And besides, he’s pretty cute when he sleeps.

Suddenly, Bucky shifts a little in his sleep, and for a moment, Y/N jumps back, expecting him to awaken and notice her staring. To her relief though, Bucky just turns around, his back to her. Smiling softly, Y/N sits back down in the armchair opposite the couch, curling up.

Some time later, she opens her eyes, wincing slightly at the sunlight streaming through the window. Her fingers touch something soft, and she frowns. As she sits up, she realises she must have fallen asleep. And she’s still here, still breathing. Y/N’s fingers continue to brush against something soft, and she realises a blanket is haphazardly draped over her. Bucky sits, watching the world through the windows. Just like he always does. Yet now…it seems different.

“Morning.” he grunts without turning around. And for once, his voice doesn’t scare her. “Sleep okay?”

She almost asks him then, asks if he took care of her in the night. Asks him to confirm if he’s really the kind soul she thinks he is, instead of the monster he thinks he is. The monster she used to think he was. But then she remembers the current situation, and the circumstances that led to them being there. So, she doesn’t ask. Besides, how can she ask something like that after everything they’ve been through? “Yes, thanks. Did you?” She knows it’s a dumb question before she even asks it. Even Bucky seems to think so too, judging by the look he gives her.

“It was okay. Thanks.” He nods.

“I’ll um. I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Figured it would be best if we still stayed out of each other's way. For now anyway.” For a second, when Bucky opens his mouth, Y/N wonders if, or rather hopes that he’ll tell her to stay. That he wants to be around her, to have some human contact. 

But he simply nods. “Yes, that’ll be good.” Sighing, Y/N disappears upstairs, hoping Bucky doesn’t notice her disappointment. Yet, she doesn’t notice how Bucky watches as she leaves the room…or how his eyes linger even after she’s gone.

Bucky and Y/N have no idea that miles away, the Avengers still are trying to track Bucky’s location.

Or at least, Steve and Sam are.

“Steve, I’ve got an idea. If he took this route out of the city, he’d have hit some woods and farmland. It’s really remote, you could go for miles and still not see a single farm house. I’m going to send Redwing out, see if there’s any abandoned barns or houses nearby that he could hide in.” Sam explains.

“That sounds good.” Steve nods. Yet, Sam notices how his friend’s smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Hey, we’ll find him, okay?” Steve sighs. 

“I hope so.”

A few hours later, Y/N sits in her grandma’s old bedroom, surrounded by various boxes and photo albums. She flips through a few pictures, laughing as she reminisces on the memories inside. The more pictures she looks through, the more emotional she gets. And soon, big tears are streaming down her cheeks once more. She misses her so much. If only her grandma could see her now, and who she’s sharing her house with.

But maybe, if she knew just how much pain Bucky’s gone through, and how kind he’s been treating her recently… maybe she’d like Bucky. Or at least, understand him a little.

“Are you alright?” Bucky’s voice startles her. He peers into the room, concern filling his features as he realises she’s crying. “I um. I thought I heard you crying, so I wanted to check on you.” Quickly, Y/N wipes at her eyes. Strangely, despite how much she sobbed in front of Bucky when they first met, now she’s embarrassed by him seeing her crying. Although, she still notices the way something flutters deep down inside when she realises Bucky abandoned his post, the only thing he’s done all day and every day, to come check up on her. For once, she’s more important to him than his mission.

“Yeah. Sorry, I was just sorting some of my grandma’s things. Didn’t realise it would make me so emotional.” She laughs awkwardly, wiping at her eyes. Nervously, Bucky comes closer, too scared to hurt her again. But he’s already seen her crying once, and felt powerless to help. Now, he wants to help. She’s been so kind to him, especially when he didn’t deserve it, and he would like to repay that kindness any way he can.

“May I sit?” Y/N nods, and he does so. He peers over her shoulder, looking at the photographs clutched in her hand. “Is this her? Your grandma?” The tone of his question makes her laugh a little. But it’s not a mocking laugh, not in the slightest. Bucky sounds like a curious child, excited to learn about the world around him. 

“Yup. And that’s my mom. She died when I was young, so my grandma took me in for most of my life. We had a lot of fun together. Especially in this house.” Y/N smiles fondly.

“She’s beautiful.” Bucky glances over at Y/N, smiling softly. “I can see the resemblance.” Y/N feels herself smiling at his words, and heat settles on her cheeks once more. Despite everything that’s happened, being called beautiful by Bucky feels nice.

“Thanks.” Y/N giggles, sniffling.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky sighs, and she frowns. “For everything. For scaring you, a-and for keeping you here. It’s just.” He takes a moment to breathe, as if bracing himself for his next words. Bracing himself to tell her the truth. “I don’t remember a lot about my life, but I do know I was being held by HYDRA. People who weren’t very good to me.” Y/N’s mind goes back to the wound on his side, how eager he was to be fed… and his horrible, anguished screams. Now it all makes sense. Y/N’s face softens, and she leans in closer, listening attentively. “I don’t want to go into too much detail about it, but they messed me up a lot. And now, I know they wiped my memories too. I at least know my name now, and bits about my past come in here and there, but that’s about it.”

“Bucky…I’m so sorry.” Y/N gasps. Now his childlike wonder makes sense. She can’t even imagine how that feels, to know nothing about who you are or where you come from. To be a nobody. Her memory goes back to the night before, when she stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, googling Bucky and his past. Her stomach twinges. Bucky doesn’t even know that most of his life story is out there online, free for anyone to read… whilst he doesn’t remember any of it. She can’t not tell him the truth. To her surprise, though, Bucky chuckles and shakes his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s me who should be sorry for keeping you here. It’s just whenever I tried to escape, they’d bring me back and torture me even more. So when I finally did leave, I was terrified that you’d try to bring me back, or if you went outside and someone saw you, they’d find me.” He scoots even closer, the edge of his fingers brushing lightly against hers. As their skin connects, Y/N feels a small spark and registers her breath hitching in her throat. Even this, something so small as this tiny skin to skin contact feels so intimate. So different. It’s like there’s a meaning behind it now, something more than just an accidental touch. And it registers something within Y/N, a feeling deep within her gut. 

She never noticed how blue his eyes look, and how much they sparkle in the light. When she’s up this close to Bucky, she can see that he has freckles too, ones previously hidden under his bruises and scars. They seem to be healing nicely. He looks healthier too, calmer at least. Obviously, the food she gave him did the world of good. 

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He whispers, so quiet she wouldn’t have heard him had he been sitting next to her. Despite everything that he’s been through, and the way he used to scream and shout at her, his voice is so soft. So… human. Rather than the monster she thought he was. But now she knows the truth: he’s a victim. And he deserves the truth. She owes him that.

“I have to tell you something. About your past.”

He takes it well. Or at least, better than she expected someone to do when you tell them that most of their life, one that was so cruelly ripped away from them, can be summed up via a Wikipedia article. When she mentions Steve and the other Howling Commandos, there’s a flicker or recognition there, which makes her smile. It’s small, but at least a start. 

“Thank you for telling me.” He murmurs, and she nods. Yet, neither of them know just how much is missing from that page. Happy memories spent with family or friends, the little things Bucky enjoyed - his favourite song, the food he loved - all gone, with no way of knowing if they’ll ever come back. Without even thinking, she scoots closer to him once more, wordlessly telling him she’s there for him. And little does she know, but Bucky appreciates her presence more than he could ever say.

“Steve.” Sam begins, causing the blonde to look up. “There’s an old house near where Bucky could’ve went, and it seems occupied. We could go in and ask if they’ve seen anything.”

“Worth a try.” Steve nods. Again, Sam can tell how unsure Steve feels about this, given how many leads they tried to chase that suddenly turned cold. And Sam also knows how worried Steve is about finding Bucky, no matter the cost. But before he can say anything, Steve stands up, straightening his jacket. “Come on then. Let’s go.”

Later that night, Y/N passes over another steaming hot plate of food, which Bucky quickly devours. Despite the food spraying everywhere, Y/N is glad to see him eating so much. Especially since she’s noticed how Bucky isn’t pausing before beginning to eat as much as he used to. It seemed as if he was waiting to see if he was going to be fed, rather than a cruel prank by his captors. To her, it signifies his recovery, that despite how much they tried to take it away from him, Bucky Barnes is coming back.

And then, there’s a knock at the door. 

Immediately, the two are on edge. Especially Bucky. Y/N notices his metal arm tensing, and she stands up quickly.

“I’ll get it. It’s okay.” she insists, trying to calm Bucky’s nerves whilst also trying to ignore how fast her own heart is beating. As she braces herself to open the door, Y/N wonders just how much her life will change once it does. Obviously, the people who tortured Bucky and wiped his mind probably won’t be as courteous enough to knock on the door, but it’s still the major fear coursing through her by now.

Reaching for the door handle, Y/N takes a breath… and opens the door. 

Two men stand on the porch. For a moment, she registers a look of disappointment on one of the men’s faces. Almost as if he was expecting someone else. But he soon smiles, clearing his throat. “Good evening ma’am.” He speaks. Y/N recognises them both almost immediately.

Captain America and the Falcon are standing right in front of her. Right away, her fear dissipates, replaced by hope. Bucky finally gets to go home with his friends. With people who love him. 

“You’re Cap, and you’re the Falcon.” She gasps. Steve chuckles, but before he can say another word, Y/N continues. “You’re here for Bucky, aren’t you?” Their faces change immediately. A mix of shock, wonder, and excitement. She stands inside, letting both men in. 

As soon as they step into the house, Bucky charges out in front of them, his presence immediately threatening. 

“What do you want?!” He demands. “I’m not going back there!”

“No! Bucky no! These are your friends. Sam and Steve! Remember?” Making eye contact with Steve, Bucky lowers his hands. In an instant, he’s back to the calmer, quieter person he was before.

“Steve.” He murmurs as the memories soon start to come back.

“Hey Buck. You remember Sam, right? And what happened? We’ve come to take you back. We’ll keep you safe.” Bucky still looks confused. He doesn’t know if he can trust him. She can see it in his eyes. And it breaks her heart. 

“He’s right. Remember what I told you? About your past?” Y/N whispers, gently prompting Bucky. “That’s them. Once again, Bucky’s brow furrows… yet after a moment, he nods.

“Steve.” He whispers, smiling. And Steve smiles back. But then it’s as if he remembers that Y/N’s still there.

“So, who are you if you don’t mind me asking?” Steve asks, and Sam sighs.

“Steve.” Sam hisses.

“This is my grandmother’s house. I came here to clear it out after she died, and I found Bucky here.”

“Well, hopefully he wasn’t too much trouble for you.” Sam chuckles. She glances over at Bucky, still watching over her protectively despite being reunited with his best friend. And a small smile crosses Y/N’s lips.

“No. Not at all.” 

“Well.” Steve clears his throat, standing up straighter, looking exactly like the Captain he is. “I’m glad to hear you helped him, ma’am.”

“Y/N.” 

“Hm?” 

“Her name is Y/N.” Bucky speaks up. “And she’s treated me with nothing but kindness since she found me here. Thank you.” Y/N’s smile grows even wider, and Bucky smiles too. A big, warm grin that overtakes his entire face. And something in Y/N’s stomach flutters. Despite the tumultuous start to their relationship, she’s really enjoyed her time with Bucky, and getting to know the real him.

But then, Steve’s next words bring her crashing back down to earth. 

“Come on then, Buck. We better go. Thank you for your help, Miss, but we can take it from here.” And there it is. Honestly, a part of Y/N was expecting to be invited along with them. To spend more time with the soldier who captivated her from the beginning. Maybe they’d even get closer. But she can’t. Because despite how much time they spent together, growing more and more comfortable with each other until their lives practically intertwined, she doesn’t fit into his life. His real life. His life where he’s best friends with two Avengers, and a WWII hero. Maybe she never fit into his life. Disappointment twinges deep in her gut. She won’t see Bucky again after this, won’t be able to see how far his recovery goes, and what he remembers.

“So…that’s it then, huh?” She sighs, not even bothering to hide her disappointment. “Well Bucky, it’s been great to meet you, despite everything.” She chuckles. And Bucky realises that he doesn’t want to let her go either. He can’t. And so, he speaks.

“Don’t you think Y/N should come too?” His words stop the rest of the group in their tracks. Steve and Sam both raise a brow, whilst Y/N just looks surprised. 

“What?” she gasps.

“Well, HYDRA are probably still going to come looking for me, and what are they going to do when they find Y/N here alone?” Y/N registers her blood chilling. Honestly, she hadn’t even considered that. She’s been so used to having Bucky here, protecting her, (albeit in his own way) that she never even considered what happens on the other side, with her safety system gone. Yet, Bucky’s protectiveness over her makes her heart beat just that little faster, and she registers the heat settling in her cheeks.

“Bucky, we stopped HYDRA. They’ve fallen, they won’t-”

“We can’t take that risk. I was there for years, and I know how they operate. I’m not leaving her here to be hurt, or worse, especially after how kind she’s been to me.” She’s never seen Bucky be so determined, so forceful…especially not about her. After Bucky’s impassioned speech, Steve and Sam start whispering to each other, and Bucky comes back to stand beside her. “It’ll be okay.” He whispers. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Thank you.” She smiles. Once more, Bucky’s hand softly brushes against hers. The same spark from before returns, this time so strong that it consumes her every being. And again, Y/N starts seeing Bucky in a new light.

“No. You’re right, Buck.” Steve nods. “We should go, now.” With a determined nod, Bucky looks over at her. And still, he smiles.

“Ready?”

Part two, anyone? 👀

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier fic #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[anakinsgirlfriendreal]

Parts Of The Truth

Masterlist

Chapter Seven

Warnings:18+ mentions of drug abuse, reader has family issues, mature discussions, smut, foul language, infidelity.

It had been a calm couple of weeks; your friendship with Padme was going rather well, you actually looked forward to conversations with her, it scared you how easy lying had become. However, you quelled your conscience by taking comfort in the fact that not everything was a lie; you were just telling her parts of the truth, yeah that's better than nothing you told yourself.

"Okay baby, but no sweets alright and be good for your grandma you copy?" You speak into the phone, Darcy had asked to sleep over at her grandmother's house since two of your younger cousins were staying there, she wanted to play and you were worried about spending the night alone.

Exiting your car, your eyes fall on the figure seated on the steps Infront your house, "baby, mama has to go okay love you." You hung up making your way closer, a worried smile formed on your face, as you register the person to be your sister.

"Grace- I you're out," you took in her appearance, the DOC hoodie proof that at least she didn't escape. She had gone away for seven years on drug charges and every day of those seven you had promised yourself you would go see her; a lie.

She smiled, "yeah...I'm- I'm free."

You smile, "you look really good Grace"

"I feel good, you know...listen when I got released, mom said to give my parole officer this address, it's here or a shelter." She plays with her fingers, a nervous habit you both had.

You took a deep breath, unsure of whether to trust her and also angry that your mother would just volunteer you to babysit your big sister, like your life wasn't stressful enough. You sat next to her on the steps, "Grace- the last time you said you felt good and that you were gonna get better; I found you passed out and in your own vomit on the bathroom floor-"

She cuts you off, "Yeah but this is different, I joined a group, I got a PO- I don't wanna go back to prison okay, you got nothing to worry about."

Running a hand over your face you sigh, "Okay look, I have a life alright, I have a job and a baby- if you fuck this up you're out"

"I know, mom told me, she showed me pictures when she came to visit, Darcy right? She's beautiful." She looked at you, "...I promise, this time is different."

You rest your hand on hers, desperate to believe her, she was troubled yes but she was your sister and she got the shorter end of the stick growing up and you'd always felt guilty about how her life turned out. "Okay. Let's go inside." She leans into you, her head resting on your shoulder for a moment, just like old times.

"You can stay in the guest bedroom, it's the last door down the hall." You shrug your coat off leaving it on the back of the couch.

Grace nods, looking around "This place is amazing, that job must pay well huh"

"Something like that" you give her a tight smile, getting yourself a glass of water, she sits on a stool at the kitchen counter.

"Mom said that you're seeing some rich guy, Darcy's father." She gives you a curious look. Of course your mother would happily air out your business, "who is he?" She looks amused.

You smile, contemplating on whether to tell her, "Uh, his name is Anakin."

Her eyes go wide, "like Skywalker Anakin? Like the one responsible for all those energy plants?"

Your brows furrow, "You know him?"

She scoffs, "The guys like a millionaire and plus we have tv in prison dumbass"

You chuckle, "right."

"So a business man hm? Nice" she raises her brows.

You take a deep breath, "yeah well, we'll see about that."

"What does that mean?"

You hesitate, she tilts her head, "oh come on, you can tell me. I'm your sister"

You sigh, "he's...married"

Her eyes widen and she laughs, "fuck out of here? Are you kidding?" Her eyes scan your face for a hint that you're joking.

"Holy shit" she laughs, sitting back against the stool and folding her arms.

You roll your eyes yet you can't help but smile.

"You know, you were always the luckier one between us, everyone likes you more, our mom, guys, everyone. You're prettier and you're smart, you always were. Now here you are; miss fancy pants."

You look at her, that guilty feeling rising again, she was right. Life had been kinder to you than it was to her, but you figured; she chose the life she was living, she chose to drop out of school, to follow her junkie boyfriend and his friends but then again, like she said; nobody had really cared for her or sheltered her like they did you, she was left on her own and forced to grow up.

"I'm sorry Grace," you mean it.

She breathes in, looking around again, her teasing demeanor returning. "So your oil daddy Anakin, he must love you a shit ton."

You burst out laughing, "Oil daddy??"

She shrugs smiling, "It's true though right? I saw some press conference he did...a few of the COs in prison have the hots for him, he has that kind of educated, smooth charm. So oil daddy is suitable."

You shake your head smiling.

"So the wife, you know her?" She waits for an answer and when you don't give it to her, she dramatically drops her head on the counter and laughs. "Don't tell me you're friends." Of course she knew, she could always read you, since you were both little.

"Alright enough" you wave her off.

She gets up heading towards the guest room, she stops, turning back to you for a moment, "You know I kinda always thought that between the two of us, I'd end up being the one knocked up with no ring."

Her words were harsh yet not surprising. You had expected her to harbour some bitter feelings towards you, whether she said it or not, she felt like you owed her, for stealing a life that might have been better were you not born at all.

An hour later Anakin stopped by, not to check on Darcy but you, he knew she was at her grandma's and he just wanted to make sure you were alone no undesired company. You watched as he looked around the house, an annoyed expression on your face. "What you worried I'll cheat on you? Wonder where that fear came from."

He chuckles, "That's funny. Who's ove-"

"Ah, I thought I heard voices" your sister interrupts, you watch as she introduces herself to him, wearing your clothes; your tank top and your shorts, she smiles at him. "You're a lot more handsome in person than on tv"

Your brows furrow, your tongue poking your cheek, thumb squeezed in your palm, what is she trying to do right now, you think. He looks at her, that stupid smirk on his lips, "You're too sweet" he smiles, the same smile he gives you when he's trying to charm his way into your pants for the millionth time. You resist the urge to slap him across the face; why are you even jealous right now? Like he wasn't married when you met him.

You watched as he entertained her for the next hour, the way she practically threw herself at him, laughing at his jokes which you could bet your life she didn't get, the way she leaned in, 'intrigued' as he went on about business. When she decided to call it a night and head to bed, you stomped to your bedroom like a spoilt child. Stripping down and getting into your pjs you try to slam in the dresser drawers but the damn rollers had other plans. You huff climbing into bed not saying anything to him for a moment, you roll over looking at him, he was all smug, leaning against the doorway, brows raised, clearly amused by your antics. "You look like an idiot," mentally you ridicule yourself for the weak insult, he chuckles, walking towards the bed, he shrugs off the jacket of his suit, and lays next to you, kissing your cheek. You push his face away turning your back to him.

"why don't you go kiss her and built her a house and get her pregnant and control her life" you realize how stupid and jealous you were being but it doesn't stop you. He laughs, pulling you on your back, positioning himself over you.

He shrugs, "I don't know, she not really my type." You see the amusement in his eyes, a small smile forming on your lips.

"You're an ass"

He nods, "so people keep saying." He's quiet for a moment, his hand coming to brush stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ear. "I'm not interested in your sister." He undoes he first button of your pajama top, placing a kiss between the valley of your breast.

"Well she's interested in you" you say, testing him. You were almost certain you weren't his only, and you hate to say the word but mistress.

"I don't care," he undoes another button and another. "It's you for me," he kisses over your breast.

"And Padme?" You ask.

He bites the top of your breast a bit hard and you gasp, swatting him away.

"I don't wanna talk about her, not right now, not when I'm with you." He kisses your lips, hungrily, pressing himself into you, he dips his head down, pressing a kiss to your neck, inhaling the scent of your perfume mixed with your lotion. "Not when you're so beautiful," he whispers, his hand creeping into your shorts pulling them down and pushing your panties aside, you moan when his finger grazes over your soaked cunt. "Not when you're so wet, so ready for me. Always ready for me," he kisses you again, his finger dipping past your folds, pumping into you slowly before he adds another, your eyes flutter shut, a needy moan leaving your lips. He trails kisses down your body, sucking hickies on your breasts and down your stomach. He plants kisses on your thighs, slowly making his way to where you needed him most, he looks up at you, his eyes soft, a mischievous glint in them, just as his lips ghost your glistening your heat, his phone rings. You groan throwing your head back.

"you have to be fucking kidding me."

He pulls away, and you whine. He presses the phone to his ear. "Hey honey." Of course it's Padme, his voice is calm and steady like he wasn't just about to bury his face in your pussy. You watch in horror as he adjusts his shirt, fixing his tie and putting his jacket back on. "I'm sorry sweetie, it completely slipped me, I'm on my way." He hangs up.

You look at him, mouth opened about to protest, "what? No where are you going?"

"I'm sorry baby, Padme and I were supposed to have dinner with friends, and I'm late." He kisses your head. "I'll make it up later"

You watch as he exits the bedroom, groaning into the pillow when you hear the front door downstairs slam.

"I see why you like him." Grace's voice fills your ears, she standing in your doorway. You look at her, puzzled; what's that supposed to mean.

"Sucks he has a wife," She retreats down the hall and into your guest room.

You take a deep breath, think about her words. There's no way, she'd try to get with him, there's no way she'd sabotage you right; tell Padme? No she doesn't even know her.

Pulling the covers to your chest, you roll on your side, closing your eyes you tell yourself that your sister would never hurt you, because that was the only way you'd get any sleep.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader smut #modern au #ceo x assistant #parts of the truth

[ilovescaredysquirrel2]

Was Qubo actually coming back?

So I heard a rumor that's been going around that The Qubo Channel, an American children's tv channel that ran from 2007-2021, was coming back in 2023 and this idiot fan did everything they could to make it seem real, videos and everything but it all turned out to be fake. They said that the company E Scripps announced it but they never did and this random person made an entire wiki page of it too. Qubo is officially never coming back, although I hope someone will have a solution or come up with a replacement kids channel. It's sad that kids have nothing that genuinely teaches them good lessons, besides Bluey. Don't get me wrong, I love Bluey, Bluey's awesome but it's like the only thing that kids can watch nowadays that's good for them. In my opinion, you need MORE THAN ONE SHOW! You don't have to have as many shows as I did growing up, but you can't only just have one show either.

I'll admit I was more of a tv kid, but I grew up in a small, dumpy town in Pennsylvania and I had no siblings or kids in the neighborhood to play with. I also never really had close friends at school who I got to hang out with outside of school, because school days lasted long and we were private people. When I got home, I'd most likely draw, watch tv, or take a nap. I did spend time outside but not in the autumn and winter as much because I hated cold, especially when I got older. I did watch a lot more tv than most kids did but it wasn't an unhealthy amount. I also wasn't really a Disney movie kid as much either. Disney channel? Yes, but I didn't really watch much of their animated movies growing up, especially not the older ones that everyone else grew up with. I had older parents and also was raised by my grandma, and no siblings so it's not like we had family movies nights like some families. Being an only child, I was basically the boss of the tv and my mom grew up playing outside and not much of a tv kid, so she just let me watch the kids shows that were playing on tv. Just to clear things up, I was born in November of 2002 and my mom gave birth to me when she was 42 years old, so a lot of stuff from her time wasn't really meant for kids. So yeah, I mostly just grew up watching tv channels. I was lucky enough to have Qubo, Sprout and the Nickelodeon and Disney channels. Lucky for me, I didn't watch much Cartoon Network, which in my opinion was kind of a good thing because a lot of stuff back then was inappropriate. Thank God I had more relaxing and... less unhinged shows to watch on channels like Sprout and Qubo. I know Qubo had its fair share of weird shows like Grossology and Being Ian, but most of the Qubo shows were good. In fact, some of my favorite shows ever came from Qubo!

Let's have a little talk about a well known Canadian show that was based off a book series, called "Scaredy Squirrel". If you were in Canada, you probably watched Scaredy Squirrel on YTV or Treehouse, but us Americans watched it on Cartoon Network, Disney X.D or Qubo. I was the kid who watched it on Qubo because I ignored the Cartoon Network channel growing up and I think around 2013 was when I started to hate Disney so... yeah. I became a fan of Scaredy Squirrel through Qubo and that show means so much to me. Another show that means a lot to me is called "Marvin the tap-dancing Horse" which originally aired on PBS kids for like 2 years, as part of a block called the "Bookworm bunch" which only lasted a short time and plus, I wasn't even born yet. I got introduced to Marvin the Tap-Dancing Horse through the Qubo Channel and I absolutely fell in love with it. Honestly, those are both very underrated shows and deserve an actual FANDOM rather than 3 fans. A few people I know have at least heard of Scaredy Squirrel barely anyone has heard of Marvin the dancing horse (and yes, Marvin is based off a book too). I highly recommend those shows, as well as many others!

Cable tv is kind of shutting down now anyway, and it's sad. All we have now is streaming services and a lot of them just don't have those nice kids shows that Qubo had. A lot of those shows were cute and not too overstimulating for the younger kids, and almost everything they have now is for older kids. Sprout became Universal Kids, which is more for older kids and they didn't need to do that. We need more things for little kids too. Also, as a 21 year old with trauma, I don't like rough adult shows like South park and Hazbin hotel, I want more calming shows like Scaredy Squirrel and Toddworld. (Also, I'll put a list of my favorite shows from Qubo in my last paragraph).

I hope one day I can make my own tv channel or streaming service to replace Qubo or Sprout, but nothing can really "replace" my favorite channels growing up. Also, if you want some relaxing kids shows from Qubo to watch, I'll give you some;

Scaredy Squirrel, Toddworld, Stella & Sam, Timothy goes to school, Marvin the Tap-Dancing Horse, Maggie & the Ferocious Beast, Harry & his Bucket of Dinosaurs, Miss Spider Sunny Patch, Babar, Veggietales, Gofrette, I Spy, My Friend Rabbit, Sandra the Fairytale Detective, Willa's Wild Life, Pecola, Turbo Dogs, Sidekick, and Stickin' Around (although there's a trigger warning).

Tell me what you think and if you agree! Are you too a Qubo or Sprout fan?

#qubo channel #qubo shows #qubo #sprout goodnight show #sprout channel #sprout #scaredy squirrel #toddworld #marvin the tap dancing horse #qubochannel #qubo fandom

[intheholler]

reading an article for a class (appalachian studies) and i kept being reminded of u

https://www.guernicamag.com/lost-in-a-misgendered-appalachia/

[positive] [with no foul intent] [its a good article]

i have read this article a few times since you sent it in and i still don't exactly know how to express my thoughts on it.

first: amen

second: yall literally have no idea how it makes me feel when you say somethin appalachian-related reminded yall of me. for real <3333

third: time to get long winded and sentimental, because i've never considered it this way, but it's so true. when i think of appalachia, i dont think about lifted trucks and gun shows.

i think about my badass grandma who was a fiery divorced, sex-positive, weed smoking, unapologetic feminist in her day and who didn't take no shit from no mountain men.

i think about my gospel loving, soft spoken mama who loudly loved jesus, a woman anyone would write off as an average "southern christian white lady" on the surface. how she didn't bat an eye when i nervously told her i was gay as a preteen. i think about how she hugged me and told me how much she loved me, how not everyone was gonna be nice about it or understand but that i was going to be safe and it was gonna be okay. how when i was a kid she stood up to that fire n brimstone southern baptist preacher and got us the fuck out of there.

i think about one of my best friends in high school, a visibly queer butch lesbian in our tiny bible beating western NC town. how fucking brave and cool she was for being one of maybe three "out" queers at school and so visibly queer at that. i think about how she got married to a pretty girl last year in that same town.

i think about two of my close friends who had to grow up so heartbreakingly fast, a pair of sisters who were at the time so young but selflessly spent their free time caring for their terminally ill mother by themselves up in their lonely holler without ever lodging a complaint

i think about my sister who dropped everything to raise me when she was only 23, breaking her back and making shit work because no one else was gonna make it work for us. i think about how one of my great aunts literally cleaned out her bedroom to furnish mine when she learned i was sleepin on a shitty couch in a cold basement.

i think about my other great aunt who apologizes for absolutely no part of who she was and holds fast to her beliefs no matter what. i think about her filling her house with the warm smell of soup beans and biscuits that were gonna feed the whole family when they come later.

when i think about appalachia, i think about the women in my life. appalachia is divine and it is absolutely divinely feminine. it's the heart of these hills and patriarchy taints it like it does everything fuckin else.

as an aside, i really loved this section here. it was kind of empowering:

Despite our region’s diversity and passionate socialist and pro-union roots, many have bought into the capitalist terms and definitions inflicted upon us. The religiosity of the place exacerbates this messaging, and the prevalence of evangelical Christianity in rural hollers means we often internalize toxic ideas about ourselves. Or perhaps we have simply tired of fighting to be seen. The pressure of religious and economic patriarchy, particularly in an exploited region like this one, means we live inside a perpetually loaded question. Nothing is more exhausting than trying to prove you exist. But the consequences of surrendering are stark: worsening wealth gaps, lost histories, continued erasures of diverse people and ecosystems. To live in Appalachia nowadays is to live with our failure to break down systemic racism, and with our complicity in the abuse of our bodies, labor, and land by unregulated corporations and himbo charlatans.

whew, okay. anyway, thanks for sending this in <33 it really made me think. yall should check it out. it's a long read but its worth every syllable!

#asks #appalachian culture #appalachia #txt

[road2nf]

I thought this story was worth sharing, and whether it is read by none or one or twenty five, I’m glad I wrote it down, and I’m glad my brother read DFTBA from a bumper sticker on the highway. I hope someone smiles at the words on this page, before they are swallowed by the deluge of love and care sent by people all over the world with stories just like my own.

To be up front about it, your videos saved my relationship with my brother, Donovan.

He was my absolute best friend growing up, the person that everyone else had to live up to in order to be even considered a decent person.

He was my hero.

He’s three years older than me, and he was a protector as I went through the struggles that “high potential” kids have which aren’t always understood by those in authority positions.

All my teachers wanted to move me up a grade, which ruined the friendships I had cherished as ten-year-olds do. Fast forward six years, and my brother and I grew apart pretty quickly.

I was president of a couple of clubs at school and he was off to Vanderbilt that fall. We stopped telling each other everything, and I didn’t know what to do to keep talking.

We were driving to visit our grandmother who lived an hour away, and it was getting late.

We were keeping each other awake, blaring music and singing at the top of our lungs.

It was one of the best memories I had with him, and then it got better.

As a car passed us on the highway, my brother (pointing, reading a bumper sticker) yelled, “DFTBA!” And looked at me expectantly. I thought he was crazy, and he just kept repeating,

“Don’t forget to be awesome!...Vlogbrothers...John... Hank...none of this rings a bell?”

When I still didn’t understand, he just told me to go on YouTube on my phone and search “John Green pennies” because he couldn’t remember any specific title.

That was it.

Three minutes and fifty seven seconds, and I was hooked. We sat in my grandma’s living room until past 2:30 that morning watching any video that came up.

The most popular, related to the current one playing, and all of Hank’s songs. Since that day, we would run into each other’s room and talk about the videos for hours.

I also have a (totally healthy) obsession with Jane Austen, and watching all the Pemberly Digital projects with him has been second only to reading them in the first place.

We have read John’s novels together, and cried for hours.

This Christmas, my brother made a donation in my name for the P4A and it was the most amazing thing anyone could have ever done for me.

Without ever watching a video, our parents soon picked up on who we were speaking about when ‘John and Hank’ were mentioned, which is astonishing when they can’t even remember the names of our closest friends. I could list off one hundred other things about being a Nerdfighter, but most importantly is saying thank you.

Thank you for doing this and putting yourself out there which is so difficult to do.

Thank you for leaving your children something to be proud of when so many are left with nothing.

Thank you for turning Nerdfighters into Nerdfighters by decreasing world-suck.

And thank you to your wives and families who support you as you change lives on a daily basis.

Thank you for inspiring me personally, and showing me how easy it is to be passionate about writing and words. I thought this story was worth sharing, and whether it is read by none or one or twenty five, I’m glad I wrote it down, and I’m glad my brother read DFTBA from a bumper sticker on the highway.

I hope someone smiles at the words on this page, before they are swallowed by the deluge of love and care sent by people all over the world with stories just like my own.

Many good wishes and blessings.

-Kate Elizabeth

#nfstories #nerdfighters #vlogbrothers #nerdfighteria #dftba #awesome #community #brother #brotherhood #family #hero #connection #friendship #travel #car singin #reading #DFTBA #P4A #project for awesome #kindness #gratitude #thank you #proud #legacy #generosity #change #writing

[small-sinclair]

Hayyyy I just found your blog and love your work 💕

I was hoping to request bo with a future s/o that also doesn’t like being touched and is sad they might not get to experience love because there to scared to be touched

Ps: I hope your having a good day and your feeling well 🥺👉👈

-❤️‍🔥

Hello, Fire Heart Anon! Thank y'all for this request.

This is based off true events from when I was a kid. Younger, I didn't like holding hands, so my grandma made a short silk rope for me to hold when my family went out. If I wanted to hold hands or need to hold hands, they would slip the silk over my wrist and they tied the other end to their wrist. It was never too tight or loose, and it felt like I was holding their hand because I felt their strength at the end. They did this until I got comfortable with hand holding on my own time.

*******************

End of the Rope

Growing up, you hated touching or hand holding, and it made it hard to show how much you loved your family and friends. Saying 'I love you' was a good thing, yes, but you felt like it wasn't enough. So, when you went on this road trip to take photos, ending up living with the Sinclairs, somehow catching feelings with Bo, you didn't know what to do with yourself. Every wildflower you placed in his shop, little rocks in his truck, and small smiles you shot at him... it never felt like enough. Every time your felt read to hold his hand or just touch his sleeve, you felt the static at the end of your fingers and pushed away from it.

Bo is a hand-held man, he made that clear from the moment you met him. His hands were strong and scarred, but there were soft when his hand would brush your skin by accident. They were worn and roughed from work and growing up. His hand demand blood, demand work and oil, demand to be near yours but never once dared to touch you. He never understood why you didn't like to be touch, but he was more than happy to let you take your time. Yes, he was pride and held himself higher, but he wasn't a monster to you.

Bo yearned for the day to feel your touch, imaging how soft your hand would feel in his. Yet, he would look down at his hands and recoil at the sight. The scars from fights and scars that littered his wrist wasn't a pretty sight, and he did his best to hide them from you. Sometimes, you saw them, and it hurt Bo know you saw them. He would snap and tell you not to look, but he secretly wanted to feel your fingers over them to touch them as if he was glass.

But he'll wait for the say you're ready.

An idea came to him when he watched you picking flowers in the fields near the station, picking each daisy and forget-me-not with meaning and care. But, as he looked at you, something brought a smile to his lips, curling up slightly enough to make the Louisiana rivers jealous. He pushing himself off the door frame and went inside the shop, digging around in the old boxes. If it's not here, he'll go bother Vincent about it, but he had a new goal.

Outside, you picked flowers, taking each flower in your hands and fingers, rubbing the steams and smiling. You found your own happy place among the wax and spare parts. You stood and dusted off the dirt and grim. These flowers for Bo would look cute in his curls, and, maybe, he'll let you placed them. As you walked back to the station, you saw Bo standing over a box on the counter, his hands digging through fabric, tossing the once that felt nice out and leaving the bad ones in. You said nothing as you watched him confused, biting your lower lip and lifting a brow.

When he looked up at you, he glanced down at the box then the fabric. His face heats up in a soft red as he kept digging in the box.

"You okay, Bo?" You asked hesitantly.

"I have an idea," he murmurs, but he doesn't look up at you as he pushed the box towards you. "But 's a dumb one."

"Yeah?" You asked, walking in. You put the wildflowers on the seat next to the door as you looked over the box of fabrics. "Try me, though."

He wipes his mouth after licking his lips. "I remember ya don' like it when people touch ya." He wiped his hands over his pants. "So, I figured, well," he seemed to failing to find words to tell you but the words came back. "I got a box wit' fabric. So, pick somethin' ya like."

"Bo?"

"Please, trust me, darlin'?" When his eyes met yours, they looked desperate and pleading. He's been trying so hard to find something, and this was his finding: a box of fabric. "Pick somethin' ya like. Any will do in t'box."

You looked down and started feeling the fabrics. There was soft cotton ones, but you didn't like how they felt against your arms. There was felt, but your fingertips didn't like how they wiggled under your grasp. Then a light green silk fabric caught your eye. There were little red roses over the green on vines and little bushes. It felt perfect against your wrist, cool then warm, and your hands enjoyed how soft and smooth it felt. You held it up for Bo to see and he smiled at it.

"Okay," he whispered. He takes the fabric and step around the counter to be standing in front of you as he started to speak. "Vincent hated holdin' hands when we were youngin's. And I hated long shirts fer a bit, but Mama had us hold hands whenever we left home." He made a slip knot at one end and started on the other end. "So, Vin and I figured somethin' out. We used a short rope," he slipped his hand through the other end of the silk and held the other towards you, "somethin' soft lik' 'is an' we held hands lik' 's until Vincent and I got used to touching skin."

He was gentle when he took your wrist and placed it in the slip knot. The silk wasn't too tight or too loose; if felt like you were wearing a bracelet. You could feel his strength in the other end, your hand a respectful two feet away from his. You felt his hand wrap around his end, tugging lightly at your skin. Breathless, you looked up at him and felt butterflies circling around your body. It's like he's holding your hand without you touching or feeling his skin.

He gave a trying grin. "See? Doesn't feel too tight?"

You shook your head as you looked at the fabric again.

"Bo," you said as you pushed back tears. "Why... why are you doing this?"

He blushed again, looking down at the rope. "I-I know ya don' like touching, so... maybe this is good? For hand holdin'?"

"Are," you placed your words carefully as your fingers rubbed over the silk, your fingers inches away from his, "are you saying you... you want to hold my hand?"

"Don't you?" He asked, his head snapping at you. He felt dumb. Of course you didn't want to hold his hand! Stupid, Bo! This was so dumb!

You looked down at the rope as a soft smile formed. "This is the nicest thing anyone's done for me."

His eyes grew wide. "No, it ain't."

"I know, but..." you couldn't stop smiling. "I've always waned to hold your hand, too, but I hate skin touching me. I hate the way it feels. It's like static and needles poking at the skin. It feels like it burns." You met his eyes and smile widely, "But this? This is nice! I can feel your strength and warm through the silk and... and it's nice." You look down at his tied hand, large and strong. "This... this is nice. Thank you, Bo."

He caught your smile and something inside him swelled. Something screamed him to kiss you and call you his. Call you by his name at the end of his days and nights. It mixed over his eyes like a lore around fish and its scales. There something beautiful hidden behind your voice, behind your smile that made him want more. When you're ready, the day he feels your hand his his, arms around him as he holds your tightly, kissing your hair and your soft lips, he'll be there.

Was this love? It's something he wonders, and he'll hold that closely to his chest.

"Whenever ya want t' hold my hand," he said, clearing his throat, "just show me 'is an' I'll hold th' otha end." He he brought his end up, which brought your hand up with it, and kissed the center of the silk rope as if he was kissing your hand. "Deal?"

You smiled as he watched your fingers linger over his ghost kiss on the silk. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Outside, butterflies fluttered and landed on the bright flowers, fluttering around the petals as they watched you two. Seeing you two bloom in love would be the sweetest flower ever to cross the flowers of Ambrose.

#bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x gn reader #house of wax fanfic #house of wax 2005 #house of wax (2005) #house of wax #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax x reader #cliff answers

[ametrinearrows]

Runaway

YN and Dolph had been thick as thieves ever since she joined the WWE. He was the one that she felt like she could talk about anything with, and he felt the same way about her. So, when childhood memories came up on their carpooled trip to the next event site, it was not even the slightest bit shocking. It was something that they did often, and they enjoyed it. 

“When I say Ryan just about broke his arm, I mean it. Kept complaining about it for days." Nic said, trying to contain the chuckle that wanted to slide out underneath his breath. 

YN, who had already given in to the fits of laughter that had overtaken her, nodded and said, “Yeah, I would have too if my ass was just dumb enough to jump off of the house just to see if I could land it on a trampoline.” She slowly wiped away the tears that she had shed from laughing as hard as she was. “If the word dumbass had a picture next to it in the dictionary, it would be one of your brother doing that. Which I would have paid to see, just for your information.” 

“What about you? Mmm? What stupid shit did you do in your youth?” he questioned with a smile on his face. 

YN thought about it for a moment and shook her head. “Other than the whole run away from home at eighteen, I can't say I have done anything completely dumbfounding, to be completely honest with you.” 

Nic quickly looked over at her and then back to the road. “You ran away from home?” His tone was one of complete shock. It was not something he expected her to say. Up until that point all he knew was that she had the best relationship with her folks growing up. But the more he started thinking about it the more Dolph realized that she rarely, if ever, spoke about her teenage or young adult years and he never had wondered why until now. 

“Uhh… yeah.” YNN said, face falling from the realization she had never told her best friend that little piece of information before. “My childhood was great, you know that, but when I turned thirteen, maybe even fourteen, my parents were going through their divorce. Mom became a workaholic, never spending more than three, maybe four, hours at home, and dad, after moving out, drowned his sorrows in alcohol. He wasn’t a horrible drunk, but he wasn’t the best either.” she confessed as she began to play with the frayed strings at the bottom of her sweatshirt.  

Nic was not used to hearing this furious warrior women he has come to know and love sound so small but she was finally opening up that part of her life to him and though he didn’t push her into telling him any of it, he wasn’t about to tell her to stop when she felt him to be a safe person to actually talk about this with.  

“I did everything I could to please them both. I did my chores without being asked. Kept my grades up to above average. Applied to both to their preferred colleges and got accepted to both. But it seemed nothing I did was enough. Mom bought a prom dress but wasn’t there to help me get ready, so I ended up not going because it wasn’t going to be the same. She was late for my graduation. By the time she got there I had already walked the stage and accepted my diploma. Dad just didn’t show his face at all. At that point I was done with it all and wanted to trade my life in for a different one. I called my grandma in southern Kentucky and though she didn’t have a room for me, she and grandpa had just kicked out the renters of their rental house and told me if I promised to keep up with the place and help them pay the property bills, it was mine for the taking.” She took a moment to pause and finally looked over at him. 

“For me it was a no brainer. I packed everything I thought I would need or want the next day while my mother was at work, left a note for her on her bedroom door, and was gone before she ever got home that night. Haven’t set eyes upon that house since then and honestly don’t plan to either.” 

“Do you ever miss it?” he questioned without taking his eyes off the road. “Home, I mean.” 

YN just shrugged and looked out of the front windshield. “I miss the home I had when I was a child. But not the one I drove away from that day." She took a deep breath and then continued. “My mother didn’t even notice I was gone for three days before she started calling around. By that time, I had already made it to Kentucky, been there for a day and a half, and grandpa and I were painting the house to colors that were more me. That place hadn’t been home for a long time before then and it won’t be now either. And to be completely honest, if I didn’t leave then the likeliness of me getting into this profession would have been slim to none. My mother never liked the idea of me being into wrestling the way I was, but grandma and grandpa were willing to support me in whatever endeavor I was into. So, there’s that too.” 

Dolph nodded at her admission. “Well then, in that case, I'm sorry for the way it happened, but I'm not sorry about where it got you. I don’t think I want to imagine life in this business without you in it.” 

YNN smiled slightly. “Even if you were in it at the time I wasn't?” 

He chuckled. “I tend not to dwell on that fact for very long,” he confessed. “That was a whole different time.” 

The two of them continued their ride with funny stories from their life in the business. Nic was happy that she had opened up to him in a way he hadn’t expected her to. But it gave him a greater understanding of her as a person and for that he was grateful. 

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Dolph ziggler #Dolph ziggler x reader #Dolph ziggler imagine #Dolph ziggler imagines #Dolph ziggler fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Epel Felmier - Apprentice Chef Vignette

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Epel Version ～ Let’s Make Stew 1～

Ghost Chef: ―The dish we'll have you make today is a stew.

Epel: A stew… Whew, I'm glad it's not some fancy-sounding dish I'd never heard of before.

Epel: I've made a ton of stews and other dishes like it back home, so I think I might be able to do this!

Ghost Chef: Alright, then let's get started. First, let's cut up the ingredients.

Ghost Chef: Make sure to cut each one up evenly into bite-sized pieces. First let's tackle the potatoes.

Epel: Got it! They've already been well washed, so I'll leave the skin on.

[chop, chop, chop, chop…]

Ghost Chef: Oho, not bad. Only, these are a little too large to be considered bite-sized…

Epel: Eh!? Oh, now that you mention it, I guess the stuff in the stew we eat here in the cafeteria is a bit smaller…

Epel: We usually have super chunky fillings in the stew back home, so I just chopped it up thinking of that.

Ghost Chef: I see. Well, if we cut them in half once more, they'll be a little too small… Let's just cut the other ingredients so they match the potatoes then.

Epel: Got it. Okay, I'm gonna cut up all the rest of the potatoes.

Epel: I've finished chopping up the onions and potatoes.

Ghost Chef: Good, the onions are cut perfectly into wedges. And you've even rounded the edges of the potatoes. Well done.

Epel: Mah gran… My grandmother taught me while I was helping her prep food back home.

Ghost Chef: Your grandma really knows her stuff. Did she also teach you how to handle a knife?

Epel: Ah, well, I can use a knife probably 'cause I've practiced carving a ton, I guess?

Epel: We're a family of apple farmers back in Harveston, and there's always a ton of damaged apples in our bushels…

Epel: But if I could carve some patterns or pictures into the apples while taking out the damaged parts, they become worth something again. That's why I've worked hard to learn how to do it.

Ghost Chef: You mean you sell them? That's amazing, I'd love it if you'd show me what you can do.

Epel: Hehe, sure. If I was to choose out of these stew ingredients… These carrot slices would probably be the best choice.

[slice, slice…]

Epel: Here you go, I'm done!

Ghost Chef: Ooh, you've carved a beautiful flower design into the carrot! You really are quite skilled.

Epel: Hehe, thank you. Want me to add decorations to the rest of the carrots too!?

Ghost Chef: Eh, no you don't have to… Wow, you were just raring to go, huh!

Ghost Chef: You're making me feel a little bad for throwing these beautifully carved carrots into the soup…!!

Epel: ―Stir flour in with the sauteed ingredients… Okay, this seems mixed enough, I think?

Ghost Chef: I think so too. Next, we'll add milk, water, and consommé, and let is simmer. You'll want to stir from time to time so the flour doesn't burn.

Epel: Got it!

Ghost Chef: While it's simmering, let's go over everything we've done so far. Do you have any questions?

Epel: Yes, sir! Please tell me of any foods that'll help me grow taller or more muscular!

Ghost Chef: Eh? There's nothing that screams "eat me and grow" like that. After all, the most important thing to think about is nutritional balance.

Epel: Really!? And I took this class hoping that I'd get to learn about ingredients that'd help me get bigger…

Ghost Chef: Epel-kun, you said your motivation for taking this course was to learn how to control your nutritional intake to help shape your body, right?

Epel: Yes. I want to grow taller, and gain more muscle than I have now!

Epel: Everyone back in my village said that if I ate a lot, exercised a lot, and slept a lot, I'd grow big and strong…

Epel: And still, I never got any good results. That's why recently, I've been trying to eat even more than usual…

Epel: But my Housewarden scolded me something fierce, saying that my nutritional intake was completely off.

Epel: He also said, "figure out what you yourself need and choose the right food to eat," too...

Ghost Chef: Ah, so that's what this is about. I understand. I'll make sure to go over the perfect ingredients and nutrients that you need, Epel-kun.

Epel: Please and thank you! Ah, but wait one moment, I need to get out a notepad!!

Ghost Chef: ―And there you have it. Do you see now that the stew we're making now also has a ton of nutrients that's good for you?

Epel: Yes, thank you!

Epel: There were so many new words bein' thrown my way that my brain's overloaded… This whole nutrition thing is a lot harder than I thought…

Ghost Chef: Alright, here we go, Epel-kun, let's do the finishing touches. Put the chicken and broccoli into the pot and let it simmer for an additional 5 minutes!

Epel: Got it! I'll throw in the pre-cooked chicken and broccoli and… There we go.

Epel: Oh yeah, by the way, we're making a savory stew today, but… does the cafeteria menu ever have sweet stews?

Ghost Chef: Sweet stews?

Epel: Yeah, it's got stuff like apples and nuts in it… It might feel a little like it should be a dessert, but it's not too sweet, and it's got a great flavor.

Epel: You can eat it hot or cold, so whenever I got sick, mah gran… my grandmother would make it for me―

Epel: Or…? Maybe it's not really a thing…? Maybe gran just came up with it…

Ghost Chef: A dessert-like stew, hm. I feel like I may have come across in some small village before… I'll look it up later.

Ghost Chef: It may be interesting if we were to serve it as promo dish in the cafeteria. I'm sure it would be delicious if we used the apples from Harveston.

Epel: Hehe, and 'cause the apples from Harveston are super delicious, it'll quickly become a popular dish, no doubt.

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Epel Version ～ Let’s Make Stew 2～

Epel: That smells good… I think this stew came out amazing!

Ghost Chef: I agree. You did a good job cutting the vegetables and stirring the pot. All those times you helped out back home really came in handy.

Ghost Chef: Now, plate the stew and let's head out to the judging venue.

Epel: YES, SIR! ALRIGHT! AH'M GONNA WINNIT!

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Riddle: A pleasant aroma is wafting out from the kitchen… It seems my food will be served soon.

Epel: Sorry to keep you waiting. This stew must have been what you ordered, Riddle-san.

Riddle: Why, hello there, Epel. You must be taking the elective this time around.

Riddle: I am still in the midst of my own studies when it comes to cooking… But as I was selected a judge for this, I shall make sure to give you my sincerest assessment.

Epel: Urgh, feels like you'd be super strict, too… Please take it easy on me…

Epel: Once more, I present to you the stew you've ordered.

Epel: It's still hot, so take care not to burn your tongue.

Riddle: On closer inspection, I see that there is a design carved into the carrots. How wonderfully intricate.

Epel: Hehe, thank you! I'm actually pretty good at carving, so.

Riddle: As for the ingredients in the stew… These seem to be a little larger than the ones normally served in the cafeteria.

Epel: Hehe, don't you think that makes it worth eating?

Riddle: Perhaps, but they do seem a little too big… These are bigger than my spoon.

Epel: Yep. I bet it'll really fill you up!

Riddle: R-Right, okay. I shall dig in, then.

[bite, chew, chew…]

Epel: …

Riddle: …Mm, delicious. I was a tad worried, since the vegetables were cut a little large, but they've been perfectly cooked through.

Epel: Thank you very much! And this stew isn't just tasty, it's also chocked full of nutrition.

Riddle: Chocked full of nutrition…? Could you elaborate further?

Epel: Sure! Uhh… One second.

Epel: Carrots are rich in Vitamin A, while potatoes are rich in Vitamin C.

Epel: The broccoli has a ton of fiber. The onion has an anti, uh… antioxidative effect? Yeah.

Epel: Chicken has a ton of protein. And the milk used for the stew has a ton of calcium!

Epel: There's a lot of other nutrients that are good for the growing body…

Epel: Uhh, so basically… Stews are the perfect dish to help you grow!

Riddle: I was a little startled because you suddenly brought out a notepad, but… Did you write down all the nutrients of all the ingredients you used for this dish there?

Epel: Yep! I can't remember things just from hearing it once, so I took notes as the Chef taught me while we were cooking.

Epel: I wanted to figure out what kind of nutrition I need for my own growth, which is why I took this course.

Epel: I was writing everything down real fast, so there's some parts I can't read, but…

Riddle: …There's no point to taking notes if you cannot read them back later.

Epel: Urgh… Yes, you're right. I'll make sure to check with the Chef again later…

Riddle: That being said, I think it's spectacular that you are attempting to further your own knowledge in order to reach your goals.

Riddle: Just as you say, it isn't only about the appearance or taste, but also the nutrients that go into it. I shall also take this moment to learn something.

Ghost Chef: We always make our dishes while thinking of that nutritional balance, so it's lovely to see Epel-kun this invested.

Epel: I-It's a little embarrassing to hear you say that, but… Thank you for your kind words!

Epel: It's much more fun to learn about nutrition through cooking rather than reading through a musty book…

Epel: I'm gonna keep on learning about nutrition and get me a super muscular body!!

Ghost Chef: I don't think you'll be able to get muscular on your diet alone, but… I'm glad to see you so motivated.

Epel: Alllright, I'm gonna work even harder! Chef, I'm looking forward to some more of your instruction!

Requested by @dida-books.

#twisted wonderland #twst #epel felmier #riddle rosehearts #twst epel #twst riddle #twst translation #twst masterchef #mention: vil

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Rendezvous

On the eighth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A friends to lovers Danny smut where Sam hogs all the garlic bread!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Merry Christmas Baby" by Otis Redding

Trope: Friends to Lovers

~~~

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, biting, Danny being unrealistically strong

Words: 4.4k

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

You were used to clingy, cuddly, drunk Danny.

But this?

This was not that.

You refused to categorize yourself into the “I fell in love with my unattainable friend” class, because this was the first time (a lie) that you'd ever thought about him in this way, as more that just buds who texted memes to each other and occasionally went out for a drink with the group. You had no problem (another lie) drawing the line at which your feelings stopped. Toe firmly in-line with ‘platonic besties’ and nothing more (which disappointed you).

But here he was, standing with an arm draped around your shoulder, sipping on his first drink - so he obviously wasn't drunk - and chuckling at Sam’s karaoke skills while your head was spinning with questions of ‘why is he acting like this’ and ‘why am I feeling something because of it.’

Danny had showed up at Sam’s Christmas party an hour late, bringing more beer and a couple loaves of the deli garlic bread that Sam had immediately squirreled away for himself instead of putting out with all the other pitch-ins. After he’d made his rounds with the rest of his friends, he’d stuck himself to your side with a long hug and those soft-set doe eyes crinkled up in an easy smile.

That was nearing two hours ago, now. Once your drink had been finished and Danny realized he’d never gotten one in the first place, he surprised you by hooking his pinky with yours and leading you over to the drink table to rectify that. And now, you were both giggling and your palm was ending up on his chest far more frequently than usual and his grip on you tightened every time he thought you might pull away and– and–

This kind of attention wasn’t usually in the playbook, and you were a little blindsided by the sudden change in both of your characters but were unable to stop bouncing off him – flirting back when he dropped his tone, laughing at jokes that weren’t as funny as your laugh painted them to be, and settling into his side as if you belonged there. 

That’s why you had to do something. When Danny’s thumb slowly brushed over your shoulder and you got goosebumps even through your sweater, you finally slipped away from under his arm while he was distracted. Much to your surprise, he took a swipe at you within seconds of realizing that you’d taken the plunge and he didn’t have an armrest anymore, which you dodged away from. But that didn’t stop him from closing the distance again, trying to get you tucked back into him. “Hey!” he pouted, exaggerating a frown. “Get back here…I was comfortable!” 

His whiny voice produced a disgraceful snort out of you, and you danced further away from his grabby hands, mixing in with the small crowd of drunk partiers cheering on Sam whilst also attempting to force Jake and Jita up on the stage for a duet next.

Everyone was too focused on “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” to pay you and Danny too much attention. Besides, you were trying not to be disruptive, so you kept your giggles (growing more maniacal by the second as adrenaline shot through your veins at Danny’s pursuit) down and led the chase away from everyone else, making it halfway up the stairs before you felt a tug on your shirt.

You’d been caught.

Danny grinned, chuckling as he caught his breath with you, neither of you at the peak of athletic performance in your lives. “Gotcha,” he said smugly, enveloping your wrist in his hand before turning and making to go back to the party.

“Wait,” you said suddenly, resisting his tug. Now that you were in a less crowded space, you weren’t quite so prudent with your words, curiosity coming out in full force. “Let’s stay here a second.”

He stopped and turned, cocking his head as you both stood on a step: you a couple up to be eye-level with him. “Why?” he asked in a stage whisper, obviously still thinking that this was some kind of joke. “The party is out there, and Sam is about to butcher that song, I just know it.”

On cue, Sam’s warble reached where you were hidden away, and Danny laughed, looking back in the direction of the party. “Danny.” 

Danny dragged his attention back toward you, and raised his brows expectantly. “Yes?”

“What’s going on?” You pressed forth, thinking that if you were this far in, you might as well put both feet in the stirrups, because you were already galloping down the road to conclusions faster than you could think to backtrack. “Have you been acting weird on purpose?”

Danny furrowed his brow, his face the epitome of innocent confusion. “Acting weird?” 

Too innocent for one Daniel Wagner.

“Mmmhh.” Somehow you’d drifted closer to the man, and he was leaning in as well, like a sailor to a siren. “You’ve been a very clingy boy tonight.” Straight to the target and bullseye.

You watched as Danny’s mouth dropped open slightly, lips loose and just barely catching the light from the living room and–

And you most definitely were not supposed to pay that close attention to Danny’s lips.

Expecting him to deny it, or perhaps get flustered at the accusation of sorts, the tables turned abruptly on you when he tilted his head once more, keeping his steady gaze trained on your inquisitive features. “Does that bother you?”

You snapped your eyes to his, trying to gauge what kind of response he was looking for. His expression was one of complete curiosity, a small twinkle in his eye that made your heart flutter, even in its current hammering state. “I– I mean…it’s different. I don’t understand it.”

“But does it bother you?” he repeated. Danny didn’t seem all too concerned about getting back to the party, now. Not in the way he was eyeing your mouth, not in the way he took a step up, which forced you to take a step back to maintain proper proximity (for purposes relating to spontaneous combustion) as well, and certainly not in the way he seemed to be toying with you.

“No,” you denied, finding steady footing walking up the stairs backwards as he claimed another step as his own. “I’m just asking.”

Asking. Imploring. Perhaps inviting, with the way you hinted neither at being bothered you were slowly getting closer to the bedrooms nor that you were trying to put an end to the clinginess.

“Well then,” he said with his lopsided smile, picking up the pace for the last small flight before the landing, “do we really need to understand at all, then?”

You gulped, his words igniting a fight or flight response when paired with this predatory prowl up the stairs and away from the cacophony of voices. Except it wasn’t necessarily fight or flight; you knew these feelings turning your tummy upside down and backwards – this was, for all intents and purposes, fuck or flight. Your heel hit the final step onto the landing and caused you to stumble, but not fall; regardless, Danny propelled himself up, ready to catch you. But once you were steady again, you found that he was still looking at you rather playfully, as if your discomposed state amused him to no end.

Danny chuckled, and you tittered with him, a bit in disbelief that this was happening, pace fast but natural. Still using his body to corral you towards the guest bedroom, you couldn’t help but notice the clench between your legs, and dammit it all you were not supposed to find Danny’s physical imposition that hot. Your back hit the door, and Danny followed you in until he had you crowded between the frame, taking a moment to pause before the door opened and all bets were off.

By this time, the speed of your pulse was making you lightheaded, but that also could have been contributed to Danny’s chest brushing yours in nearness, or his soft puffs of breath on the bridge of your nose, or the back of his fingers that caressed your cheek and made you painfully aware of how sensitive every inch of your skin was when it came to Danny. 

“Danny,” you breathed, trembling slightly as your brain tried to keep up with the signals it wanted to send: happy, confused, horny, nervous, petrified – all of it.

His body caged you in against the door, one hand resting on the door knob and the other planted by your head. “Tell me now if you’re okay with this,” he murmured in your ear, the voices from downstairs faint enough it was just garbled background noise. “I just want to hear you say you want me.”

His words sent you spiraling into thinking things you didn’t know you could – not about your best buddy Danny, at least – and with a shaky hand, you pressed your palm to his chest, only to find his heart beating as wildly as yours. 

“I want you,” you said, biting your lip between sentences. “How do you want me?”

Danny groaned, twisting the doorknob harshly, and let you stagger back into the spare room before closing and locking the door. He caught your hand before you could get far, and you found yourself pinned against the door again, this time from the other side and with Danny’s hard erection pressing insistently against your thigh. “Right here, Y/N,” Danny said, stripping his shirt off and fumbling to undo the buttons on yours. “I want you right here with those pretty legs wrapped around my waist and my name in your mouth.”

“You know, I think I’d rather have your tongue first,” you said, not giving him time to respond before you gathered his face in your hands and guided his lips to yours in an intense kiss, skipping past soft and shy and running your tongue along the seam of Danny’s mouth, inviting him out to play. 

It was sufficient enough to distract him from undressing you, and your pants were at your knees when he grabbed your waist instead, using it to pull you even further into his body while he took over the kiss and tilted your neck up at a sharp angle. You gasped when his fingers grazed your throat, and he paused, fingertips lightly pressing into the sides, holding you still as he gave you exactly what you wanted.

But it wasn’t enough; his work left unfinished was realized, and soon you felt exactly what your friend was packing, velvety against the sensitive skin of your bare inner thigh. “Shit, Danny,” you chuckled as best you could with Danny’s lips gliding and caressing your throat as if it were a precious thing worth being worshiped.

Which, to him, perhaps it was.

He hummed, still distracted now that he was discovering your body inch by downward inch. Your collarbones and then lower to your breasts, he let his warm breath fan over the damp skin he left in his wake. "What?" he asked, rather too smugly for your peace of mind.

"Nothing, actually," you huffed, rolling your eyes at his tone, "forget I said anything."

Danny laughed against your breasts, leaving them each with a wet kiss and swirl of his tongue as he kissed down your stomach and said, "Don't be like that, baby."

You blood ran hotter at the nickname so, instead of letting him reach his destination, you yanked him up with your fingers buried into the roots of his hair, hoping that it hurt a little bit.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed, hips twitching into you as you felt him jump. “You just– you had to do that, huh?”

His voice dropped to a guttural growl, and you watched as he fished a condom out of his wallet from the floor. “You liked it,” you rebutted, raising your knee up to his hip once he’d rolled the latex on his cock, thick and long and slightly intimidating. 

Danny apparently wasn’t satisfied with the position, though, and he tapped your ass, gripping it in both hands and tugging you up. “Not liking it wasn’t the problem,” he chuckled in your ear, and you didn’t think you’d ever want him to speak to you again unless he was this close and you could feel the rumble of his words in his chest. “Now get up here. I said I wanted both your legs wrapped around me.”

“Sure you can hold me?” You ran your hand over the muscle of his shoulder, and your mouth began to water. Before he had you cock-drunk and bouncing on his dick, you leaned in and flattened your tongue against the skin, dragging it up to the meat of his shoulder before sinking your teeth in and creating enough suction to give him a big hickey in an unexpected place. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you admitted once you pulled off, and Danny stared at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips when you met his eyes.

“My shoulders are yours to suck on, then,” he said, an undertone of humor lacing through the words. “But right now, I want you to suck me in, so get up here already. I promise I can hold you.”

Even hesitant as you were, you jumped up as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass, then put his hips underneath you for more support. You’d never been fully taken against a wall before; but you were quickly coming to realize that Danny was going to set a standard not many others were going to be able to uphold.

And he’d barely even touched you yet.

“Alright, Y/N,” he said, cocky smirk on his face reading, ‘see, told you.’ “I want you to reach down for me. Drag those little fingers across your clit and get ‘em nice and wet for me, okay?”

He didn’t have the use of his hands – not if you wanted to stay as stable as you felt – but even if he had, you’d still have done everything he asked you to, no second guess about it. “That won't be a problem,” you told him, slipping through the heat at your core and sighing at the small piece of friction you’d earned with your fingers. “You make me so wet.”

You could feel his cock against your hand when he rocked his hips forward, so close to where you wanted him that you decided you were done waiting, turned your hand around to grasp him, and then guided him to your entrance. As soon as you pushed upward with the tip and felt yourself stretch around him, embracing him into your body like a warm, welcoming hug, Danny gasped, then moaned softly as he realized what you’d done. He was unable to help the steady undulation that took him deeper and deeper into you, slowly encasing himself in the constricted warmth and wetness that you offered.

“Oh fuck, babygirl,” he breathed, leaning forward to bump his forehead into yours once he was seated all the way in. “So impatient to get me inside of you– you really want me to fuck you that bad?”

You nodded. “Please, Danny, I need more.” 

And you did. Having him fill you up was so good, but now you were clenching around his thick cock without the ability to do much more than grind on him. It was torture. 

He kissed you shortly, readjusting his grip before snapping even deeper into you and making your breath stutter. “I’ll fuck you nice and good, Y/N. But first I need you to bring your fingers up here,” he requested, and you furrowed your brow. “You’ve interrupted me two times tonight – I’m gonna taste that sweet little pussy one way or another. Now bring ‘em up, let me taste you.”

After letting out a breathy curse, you dipped them to where he was sheathed inside of you and collected some of your slick once more, then brought them up between your faces. You tried not to be embarrassed that you could smell yourself, but the look in Danny’s eye told you that was what he was looking for. 

“Let me taste,” he asked you again, waiting. You brought them to his mouth and he sucked them in, his tongue playing over, across, and between your fingers, cleaning you off before letting your fingers rest between his lips. “Mmm,” he hummed around you, grinning as he watched you wither in embarrassment at his antics. "Just what I needed. I'll be back for more later."

As if that was your payment to start the ride, he pulled his hips back as far as he could while holding you up and jerked your into him when he rebounded back, finally starting to move. 

“Oh god, Danny, finally,” you whimpered against his neck, holding on for dear life as he flexed and pounded you against the door. Although he had to fix his grip multiple times after sliding from sweat and trying to find better purchase, he kept you in the air as he chased his pleasure and brought you yours. “I’ve thought about this before.”

Danny grunted, his unforgiving pace never faltering. “Yeah? “Bout me fucking you through a door?”

“Not this situation specifically, but about you fucking me, yeah.”

Danny grunted, features rapt and tightly controlled as he kept his movements together and steady. Just the look of him concentrating so hard was sexy - you wanted to know if it was different in the throes of pleasure, or better. “Tell me more later. We’ll make it all a reality,” he promised, not up for more conversation as it took his focus away.

Your hips hit the door with how hard he collided into you at times, making a very obvious, rhythmic thumping sound that you prayed couldn’t be heard downstairs. God, you were going to have the gnarliest bruises in the morning. Even if the party could hear over the music, you weren’t going to be able to find it in yourself to care right now, not when Danny’s dick was hitting spots in this position you didn’t know existed. But once you were off the ride and back into your head, you knew you’d be humiliated if it came about in conversation.

Danny surged in to kiss you sloppily, teeth and tongues and open mouths to draw in deep pants this far into sex. “What do you need, Y/N?” he strained against your lips, arms shaking from the exertion that originated at his core from burying himself into you again and again and again. “I’m almost there, what do you need?”

You reached down and felt where he was sliding inside of you, his cock brushing your fingers every time he pulled out and then desperately shoved himself back in. “I’ll get it. Just– just keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll touch myself for you,” you said against his neck, salt and sweat on your tongue. “Do you feel it?”

“Yes– I– shit.” Danny’s breath was deep and woven with grunts that came out every time he slid in, and it created a symphony of low, guttural noises that were music to your ear. It was a reminder of his rhythmic prowess, the way you felt him and heard him at the same time. Like he was presenting his supporting argument, despite the fact that you weren’t debating.

“I think I’m in love with the noises you make,” you whispered, the scent of his hair products filling your nose as you clutched him close with one arm, the other still working furiously at your clit to ride the waves of pleasure higher and higher. “Don’t hold back, Danny. I’m almost there.”

“I’m cumming, Y/N– oh shit, shit, shit, shit,” he croaked out, voice high and soaked in pleasure. Danny returned your earlier favor and bit down on your shoulder with a broken moan as he came nearly on command, hips pitching into you frantically as he gave you all he had, and then kept rocking softly as he came down.

Your orgasm was nipping at his heels. With the combined powers of your fingers drawing circles over yourself and Danny still keeping your full, you squeaked out a small, “Ah!” as you came and jerked your hips on Danny’s length to ride out the convulsions it brought on. 

“I’m gonna let you down,” Danny panted, chest heaving from where you had a birds-eye view. "Hold on."

Your feet touched the ground, and you almost crumbled – the only thing saving you from Danny’s smugness was the fact that he seemed to be struggling to stay on his feet as well. “Bed?” you suggested.

But Danny slumped naked against the door, sliding down to sit on the plush carpet. “I think I might just take a rest right here,” he sighed, tugging your down with him.

You tried not to shriek, and ended up letting out a half-cut off 'meep!' as he wrangled you onto your back. How he still had the energy, you weren't sure. But as tired as you were, you weren't about to close your eyes when he wrapped his hand lightly around your throat. Whether it was because he liked the way it looked or because of your reaction to it earlier, you weren't sure.

"But first, I think I'm a little hungry." He kept his hand unmoving until it began to hinder him as he pushed your thighs apart, spreading you out and exposing your glistening entrance to him. "There it is," he murmured, thumbing your lips apart for more access. "You can get up when I'm finished eating."

"Oh god, Danny," you whined, realizing that the night wasn't over yet. You dropped your knees further apart and welcomed Danny between them, even when you couldn't still feel the pulse of your heartbeat down there.

He dove right in, connecting his lips to yours like he'd entered a hands-free mango-eating competition, and you tried to quiet your moans, hums, and keens, but you knew you weren't doing a very good job of it. You were still sensitive from the first time you came, and Danny's tongue, dancing around your cunt and lapping up all your slick until you no longer felt like someone had popped a water balloon inside you, had you tightening and clenching; you just weren't sure if you had another one in you.

After a couple of minutes spent with his mouth on you, tongue moving in waves with an occasional direct flick to your clit, Danny looked up at you with a feral grin. "All clean. Do you think you can cum again?"

You stroked the crown of his head and shrugged. "Probably if I tried. But...I think I'd rather just cuddle now, and you can get me off again in the morning."

Danny chuffed at your planning skills and enthusiastically agreed, wiggling up your body for the time being. You realized he'd never taken the condom off when his soft dick brushed your thigh so, looking down to guide your work, you stroked him from base to tip, pinching the latex at the end so that you wouldn't have a mess on your hands, and gently put it on the ground next to you.

"Okay big boy," you said in his ear, patting his shoulders where they rested on tip of you. "I have to go pee. Girl things, you know."

"I'll be here," he mumbled, lazily rolling off of you and onto the carpet again.

Your brow quirked up as you found your panties and slipped them on, making a quick trip to the bathroom before grabbing a tissue for the condom. “Was I that heavy?” you teased when you came back out and found Danny nodding off, knowing that no matter how much you weighed, holding someone up whilst fucking them was a workout for anyone.

“Hell no, babygirl,” he snorted as he woke up, shuffling around so that he was sitting against the wall before leaning his head back and closing his eyes once more, “you were perfect. That’s just the hardest I’ve ever had to work for my orgasm– I’ve never done that before.”

“Well then, I’m glad I could be one of your firsts,” you sighed, joining him on his apparently preferred surface of the ground and leaning your head onto his shoulder. 

You stayed that way until the air around you became heavy and lax, and by the sound of the door shutting every so often downstairs, the party was winding down and sleep was imminent for everyone.

Picking up Danny’s hand, you asked him, “Are you staying here for the night?” knowing that he spent a lot of time at Sam’s anyways. You wouldn’t be surprised if this was the exact room he always stayed in.

He hummed in confirmation, then pulled you closer, tugging you far enough that you eventually just curled up in his lap like a cat. “Yeah. And you are, too,” he mumbled, wrapping those long arms around your legs and torso to get you as close as you could possibly be. Nosing at your hairline, he got a quick assurance. “Right?”

“Yeah.” If you could get some food or something, that would be fantastic – you always got after-sex munchies, and you were sure Danny knew where Sam hid all his goodies. And speaking of hiding goodies–

“...Do you want to go and find that garlic bread that Sam hid?” you asked into the silence, and Danny perked up at the mention of actual food.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, I do,” he said, wide awake now that he’d been reminded of the snacks he’d brought. “I can’t believe he didn’t put that out, the greedy fucker.”

You both threw on some clothes and then peeked out of the room, the landing still dark. But there was no conversation coming from downstairs, so you both figured Sam had crashed, as well, and quietly creeped back down the stairs, avoiding one creaky step, and then snuck hand-in-hand to the kitchen.

Which happened to be where Sam sat at the counter, munching on the garlic bread. Quite literally taking mouthfuls out of the full-sized loaf, no regard for social norms at all, as he completed the picture with a shit-eating grin on his face between chews. “Why hello there, strangers. Where did you all disappear off to?”

~~~

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#12 days of tropemas 2022 #tropemas 2022 #greta van smut #greta van fleet fics #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner smut

[ilesui]

what music would the TWST boys listen to ?

— yay first post! i’ve thought about this question a lot, especially as someone with a varied taste in music. i look up character playlists and… honestly, most of them have the same songs in them. which isn’t a bad thing at all! but i think if we’re going to look at this realistically, it’s good to have a variety. anyways, enough yapping!

heartslabyul — 🃏

riddle would most likely listen to classical music starting off. considering his mom, it’s very possible he wasn’t allowed to listen to a lot of modern music. as time goes on though, i like to think he listens to songs with soft acoustics and catchy hooks. what i’m thinking specifically is “i will follow you into the dark” by death cab for cutie. it would help him calm down for his anger issues and feel like he’s loved, even for a moment.

ace’s music taste is a little more basic. he’s a pretty simple guy! i think he’d listen to minnesotan hip hop, maybe even meme rap. something catchy, modern, but with a layer of irony behind it. i have a feeling he’d really like Brother Ali. maybe something less calm from him, though. he wants to be hyped up!

deuce wants to change. he has a whole moment in book 5 on how he wants to find himself and stop changing himself for the sake of other people. so, he tried listening to classical music. but he just couldn’t get into it. i think it’s more likely he listens to gangster rap / west coast rap. no one post modern, but instead artists like eazy-e and n.w.a. he’s mildly aware of newer artists but he doesn’t necessarily understand them. he’s a sucker for the classics!

cater canonically listens to the top 100 songs. but also cater is a pretty deep character. he doesn’t have a lot of trust in people so it’s very unlikely he’s honest about a lot of things, including his music taste. while cater SAYS he listens to popular songs, i think he’s a sucker for pop punk. waterparks and fall out boy are is jam! he would listen to them while skating!

trey gave me a bit of trouble. when i first made my headcanons, i joked around with my friends on how it’s more likely he’d listen to asmr than music. i still think that’s a bit true but when i asked around for other people’s opinions on what he listens to, i got another joke answer saying “british people music”. that’s when it hit me. classic rock! artists like the beatles, led zeppelin, and david bowie! he’s kind of a family guy so he probably listened to these songs growing up and he’s never quite ventured any further. it’s a little unconventional for the modern day world of pop but i think it suits him!

savanaclaw — 🏜

i think leona is a little more of a romantic than he’s willing to admit. it obviously wouldn’t show in the game but it bleeds a lot more into his tastes. the man may not know how to dress but he can treat a lady well! so i think he listens to classic jazz. he would definitely dance in the kitchen with you while listening to “somethin’ stupid” by frank sinatra! it maybe be hard to believe but underneath all that rough fur is a good person who wants to love as much as he wants to live.

ruggie’s felt a little too obvious to me. golden age hip hop! again, nothing too new but i like the idea that he somehow stumbles upon the most under appreciate artists ever and goes to their live shows! live shows that are mostly basement concerts lol. i can see him growing up on MF DOOM, though. his grandma probably subjected him to a lot of The Jackson 5 too! grammy don’t need fancy!

jack was another one that gave me a hard time. ok, honestly, i had a hard time with 3 other characters on this list but i did some more thinking and i’m content on my stances now! anyways, jack isn’t a very hardcore guy. in fact, i think he’s pretty classy. i think he listens to jazz pop. im specifically thinking of michael bublé. fun fact, it’s a popular headcanon that jack is canadian and michael bublé is listened as canadian pop lol. i didnt even realize that until i looked up what genre he was

octavinelle — 🪸

azul was another one that gave me trouble. im joking when i say this but i think he’d listen to those alpha bro podcasts and says that music is a waste of time. but as a serious answer? jazz blues. maybe even soul blues if he’s feeling like listening to something with lyrics. duke ellington feels like it would be a good fit!

floyd listens to vocaloid and i will refuse to elaborate on this.

…

oh still here?

ok im joking, of course. gotta have a little fun on this blog and keep you on your toes. but hes pretty unpredictable and loses interest in things very easily. i think there’s no one genre that he gravitates towards. he just finds specific songs he likes and listens to them until he gets bored. his playlist is awful because he goes from musicals, to pop, to Debussy in one sitting. it’s genuine whiplash to give jaxe the aux because you don’t know what you’re gonna get when he hits shuffle.

i’m still right though. this man would listen to vocaloid.

jade is interesting because not a lot of things can keep his interest. it’s easy to say he’s like floyd and has a wide taste in music but that’s way too easy. plus, he has a genuine system going on in his head. while there is no pattern in chaos, there needs to be some semblance of pleasure. so i think he’s a fan of noise rock and hardcore. jesus piece is a definitive. you never know what’ll happen in those songs. each moment is filled to the brim with noise that doesn’t even leave you a moment to think. jade would be a fan of that.

scarabia — 🏝

it’s pretty canon that kalim prefers folk party music. he’s seen in multiple vignettes hosting parties where there’s live music that he plays in. but i wanna add something. the whole reason why he joined the pop music club was because of lillia’s performance where he had his little screamo moment, right? i don’t think it’d be that much of a stretch to think he’d be into that music wise. so i think kalim could really be into industrial and hyperpop! but really, he can be into anything just as long as it’s loud and amps him up. rob zombie, most likely. nothing more violent than that! he’ll feel bad :(

jamil is the one i’ve thought about the most. he IS my oshi, after all. i think he listens to a mixture of dance pop, disco pop, and a bit of female oriented rap. jamil is a munchkin and proud. he wants something to make him feel hot because his only coping mechanism is how he maintains himself. its easier to feel hot by yourself when youre listening to music than to deal with the idea of being perceived! :D

pomefiore — 🍏

vil definitely listens to pop. i think that’s a given for any influencer. but i also think he has a secret love for musicals! he’s most likely a classically trained actor, after all. all pomefiore kids give me the vibe of theater kids, especially because theyre actors. ride the cyclone is probably a favorite among him. and wicked. especially wicked.

rook is the one that gave me the hardest time. i didnt exactly know what he’d like to listen to because… frankly he doesnt share next to anything about himself so its near impossible to do a reading on him. like, genuinely, what the fuck. but yk. he IS a fanboy of neige. it isnt hard to imagine he likes k-pop and j-pop (or the twst equivalent). honestly, the idea that he’s a stan is so funny to me that i cant imagine him listening to much of anything else. that man writes fanfiction can poetry be considered fanfiction? about his classmates!!! he can be considered a stan!!!!!!! just an extremely eccentric one

ngl i dont know a lot about asian pop but uh… i like MAMAMOO and MOMOLAND???? literally cannot give you recommendations for this one soz

epel’s music taste came to me the moment i played chapter 5. country rap that’s a little misogynistic. yes epel is one of those kids who went thru a “i hate women” phase when he was younger because he didnt know how to grapple with his own ideas of how to be comfortable with his masculinity and femininity and wanted to uphold traditional gender roles due to a lack of fundamental misunderstanding of feminist theory and how the patriarchy includes men and a general insecurity of his body. i cannot give you recommendations because i am not a misogynist and the only country rapper i like is girliepop

ignihyde — 🎧

idia’s music taste is already confirmed. premo is said to be a hardcore metal idol group that has concerts until everyone passes out. i get a lot of people think he listens to vocaloid and other internet famous genres but tbh i think he thinks that hes too good for that shit. idia is a hipster before he is a nerd. idia would listen to PassCode, a heavy metal idol group. the only difference between it and premo is that PassCode has a more eletronica feel to it. itd fit right at home with our resident leet speak gamer. this is my PassCode propaganda post. listen to PassCode.

i cant say what orthro’s music taste is because i havent played through chapter 6 yet (im trying to upgrade all my srs to level 30 first). but i dont think he’d listen to music. this can be amended tho when i play thru it and i feel like my position has changed

diasomnia — 🪡

malleus was not hard for me at all. to be fair, i originally wrote all of these down on an instagram post and by the end, i was a little delirious. or just in tune with my creativity. either way, i was on a roll. i think malleus would listen to a mixture of musicals, opera, and ballet. it very specifically needs to be classical music that has a performance with it. considering that malleus is kind of a gamer, i think his attention span is a little short to stand an hour of pure music. plus, theyre things you can be invited to and experience with friends / family. imo, he’s a fan of swan lake and the phantom of the opera. something so hauntingly beautiful you cant look away with the added bonus of being able to peer into the tragedy of mortality and the human condition.

lilia listens to screamo and i have nothing to elaborate on that. i pray everyday that he listens to be your own pet. he probably has and legally that means i must sacrifice my life for him

silver would listen to bedroom pop. get it? ehhh? wow tough crowd. but i think he’d listen to bedroom pop because despite everyone’s attempts to get him into metal as an attempt to keep him awake, the slow and sleepy melodies of mxmtoon singing about simple joys in life is just too enchanting to turn away. hes a human first before hes a retainer. humans cant help but indulge in the simple pleasures

sebek was only tricky because i do not care for his character. for everyone else, i have some sort of interest in them but diasomnia just… doesnt exactly appeal to me for some reason. anyways, i think he’d listen to new age jazz. new age jazz is pretty easy to understand and can be as loud or as soft as one wants. probably something with instrumentals because he wants to focus on whatever hes doing rather than the music. new age and not the classics because he is still 16 and like… not as old as malleus lol

— thanks for reading ~

#twst headcanons #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #idia shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver #sebek zigvolt

[thegrimalldis]

A Series of Random Moments - Meredith (Part Two)

Only post this week. This took me days to work on 

[Meredith]: Hi sweetie. Where’s Mommy?

[Tristan]: In the study. You forgot the pizza again.

[Meredith]: I know. I’ll call in a bit. What are you working on?

[Tristan]: Mr. Daniels is making us work on a family tree for history class but we can use only one parent for show and tell next week.

[Meredith]: And you picked me?

[Tristan]: Yeah, Grandma Cora use to tell me stories of her papa and grandma. Can you tell me more about Grandpa’s side?

[Meredith]: Of course.

-

[Olivia]: Wait, he approached you outside the courthouse? What did you say?

[Meredith]: Nothing, I couldn’t say anything. I was in shock. It’s been forty years and now he wants to come into my life.  

[Olivia]: Do you think he’s reaching out because your mom is gone?

[Meredith]: I don’t know.

[Olivia]: Do you even want to get to know him? I mean there had to be some part of you that was curious about him growing up.

[Olivia]: He is your biological father.

-

[Christina]: This is an overview of the last partner meeting.

[Joshua]: I see.

[Christina]: We would need your signature on the last page.

[Meredith]: Dad, I thought you had the day off?

[Joshua]: Change of plans. They moved up the deposition for the Steinwork case. Did you need something?  

[Meredith]: Do you have a moment to talk?

[Joshua]: Christina, can you give us a minute?

[Christina]: Of course.

[Joshua]: Have a seat, sweetie. What’s on your mind?

[Meredith]: Actually, I forgot I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll see you at the banquet later.

-

[Meredith]: Hi Henrik, it’s Meredith.

[Meredith]: I would love to get that coffee if you’re available to meet today.  

#ts4 story #ts4 screenshots #ts4 bts #ts4 legacy #ts4 storytelling #the sims 4 story #the sims 4 screenshots #the sims 4 bts #the sims 4 legacy #the sims 4 storytelling #ts4 roleplay #ts4 edit #ts4 simblr #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 screenies #sims 4 screenies #ts4 family #grimalldi moments

[onceuponastory]

give me thunder, give me lightning - the winter soldier x reader

Part Five of my Ghost Story AU - Find the series masterlist here

Plot: In the aftermath of HYDRA's return, things are rebuilt and redefined. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death/murder, violence, injuries/bruises (not too graphic though), weapons, nightmares, trauma, anxiety and angst. Once again, everything Bucky did as TWS and had done to him by HYDRA is a trigger. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: We made it to part five! Technically the final chapter? As always, thank you for enjoying this story so much. Here's a link to the song this chapter is named after, Take Me Dancing by The Maine. You'll need it for later ;)

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“W-What did you just say?” Y/N asks. She hopes this is just a mistake, something she misheard. Even the possibility of Bucky playing some cruel practical joke on her crosses her mind.

For a moment, she wonders if she was the one who got shoved backwards, who slammed her head against a table and is now lying against a cold, hard floor. If this is merely a dream, or a hallucination in a damaged mind.

Because Bucky, protective, loving Bucky, who looked at her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky, who listened to every single one of her stories about growing up and her family, even the boring ones, hanging onto every word, who at least said something when she spoke to him… now stares back at her like he doesn’t even know her. 

Even death would be better than this.

As Bucky begins to walk towards them, she registers Steve saying: “Y/N. You should go. Let us handle this.” but she ignores his words.

“Bucky?” Silence. All Y/N can hear is the pounding of her heart. No recognition comes from him, and he continues to move forward, keeping his stare fixed on the trio. He’s like a completely different person, a shell of his former self. HYDRA must’ve wiped his memory again, or activated his trigger words again.

And that thought scares her to death. Not because of what Bucky could do to them, but what it means to him. Even as he bears down on them, all she can think about is how much this has messed up his healing, and how they could ever possibly fix this.

Steve and Sam try to fend him off, to break through his programming once more. And they put up a good fight, but Bucky’s moves are fluid and rapid, too calculated for them both. Whilst they’re cautious about harming him, he's not. He blocks every one of their attacks with ease and quickly deals out ones of his own. He shows them no mercy, dealing out punch after punch. Finally, Y/N sees the full extent of what Bucky’s capable of, the soldier HYDRA trained him to be. 

And although she knows (or at least hopes) that Bucky wouldn’t hurt her, seeing him like this terrifies her.

“Y/N. Get out of here. Run.” Steve repeats, but she has no time to respond before Bucky throws him down.

And then, there’s nothing to protect her, nothing separating them both. Bucky stops in front of her, panting. The same pair of silvery blue eyes, now empty and cold, stare back at her. Immediately, she’s back in her grandma’s house again, facing Bucky for the first time. And now, she must fight for her survival again. But this time, it hurts even more. This time, there’s so much more at stake. For all the times she used to worry about Bucky trying to hurt her, she never actually imagined it would happen, or thought about what she would do if it ever did.

So now, she has no idea what to do, or how to save herself. 

“Bucky, please.” The words leave her mouth as a strained gasp. As if her words could undo the decades of torture and suffering HYDRA put him through. But that's all she can do. It’s all she has. Steve and Sam, they’re superheroes, with weapons and other resources at their disposal, and that didn’t even work. All she has is her love for Bucky, and her want to bring him back.  

And this time, she’s not sure it’s going to be enough. 

But she has to try. She’s the only hope they have right now.

“Bucky. I-It’s me, remember? Y/N?” She’s aware of her voice cracking, a sign of the fear and pain of the last god knows how many hours finally taking their toll on her. And she hates it. She wishes she could be strong. Show Bucky that she’s not afraid, and that they’ll get through this together. But she can’t. “You met me at my grandma’s house, remember? It was a lot like this, actually.”

He’s silent. All he does is stare at her, calculating his next move. HYDRA told him to eliminate all their enemies here. He’s already fended off two of them with ease, and now it’s her turn.

So why hasn’t he done it yet?

“Everything’s different now, though.” She chuckles awkwardly. “But I know you’re still in there, Bucky, and I’ll bring you back, no matter what I do.”

Why won’t she stop calling me Bucky? He thinks. Why is she staring at me like that?

Yet, just as soon as his programming kicks in once more, and he readies his arm to eliminate this threat, another voice sounds, breaking through HYDRA’s orders. Fight it. Fight back. She’s right. Trust her. And he feels compelled to listen to it.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We all call you Bucky. You used to love it when I’d play my grandma’s records for you. You loved The Rolling Stones, but I think Ella Fitzgerald was your favourite.” His broken brain tries to put the pieces together, tries to find the song she means… but all that comes through is a garbled mess. The clearest part, though, is HYDRA’s programming. Fight it. The voice says again. Don’t let them destroy you again. But their programming is just too strong.

“Stop it.” He hisses. “Shut up.” She’d be lying if she said his coldness and cruelty don’t hurt, and she has to remind herself that it’s not actually him saying those words. She just has to persist. She has to bring him back.

“Remember the night I fell asleep, and you covered me with the blanket?” There’s a tingle up his human arm then, a feeling of soft cotton tucked around a sleeping form. Of the golden rays of the sunrise flooding into the room, warming his body. His heart starts beating faster. She looked so beautiful then… so radiant. “I was so afraid of you. I thought you were dangerous, and that you’d kill me right there and then. I must admit, a part of me thinks that, even now. But I know you won’t. I know it’s not you, Bucky. You’re not a monster. You never were.”

He registers shouting in his ear, furious voices ordering him to go out and kill everyone who stood in their way. Despite being reactivated by HYDRA again, he knew something was wrong, that some part of him didn’t want to do this. Suddenly, the mask shifts, and Bucky Barnes starts to break through. “Y-Y/N?”

Unfortunately, almost as soon as it shifts, HYDRA’s programming kicks in again, and he’s back to the soldier he once was. “Stop it.” He hisses.

“Never.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to save me?” He demands. Yet, his face shows no anger. It's more sadness than anything. As if he remembers just how brutal his life is, and that he’s already accepted he’s not worthy of love.

“Because I love you.” She wants to say, wants to shout it from the rooftops. It’s what she almost says, but the words get stuck in her throat. “Because I know it’s not you. It never was. You don’t want to do this, I know it. Please, Bucky.” She steps forward, closer to him, into the line of fire.

“Stay back.” He orders, pointing his gun, but she doesn’t stop. 

“Bucky, this isn’t you.” She repeats. “Come back to me.” She’s crying now, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Her tears register something in his mind. This isn’t the first time he’s seen her crying, or pointed his gun at her. 

How does he know her? 

Why does he know her?

“Say it’s only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.” She sings, her voice soft and quiet at first. For a moment, she notices something in Bucky’s expression. It’s as if his programming slips again, and he hears her words. And they mean something to him. It’s almost as if the real Bucky comes through once more.

He’s sitting in a house, laughing and singing along. A happy warmth fills his blood. That was a wonderful memory. He felt… safe. He felt loved. Finally, he sees the girl he was with again. And she’s standing right in front of him.

His blue eyes look over her again. Like he’s discovering her for the first time again. “Y/N?” He whimpers. He seems shocked and confused, as if his true identity, his humanity, coming back was merely a switch being flicked. She smiles, a huge, wide smile as bright as the sun. And this time, Bucky recognises it.

“Hey Bucky.” He glances down at his hands, dropping his weapon to the floor immediately. 

“W-What happened? Why am I holding a gun? D-Did I hurt you?” He panics, looking around wildly for any injuries.

“No, it’s okay. Shh. I’m here.” She soothes, clasping his hands tightly in the hopes they stop shaking. “And I’m okay.” Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Then he smiles, chuckling softly.

“Y/N… It’s so good to see-” But suddenly, he groans softly, his eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Bucky?” she gasps, trying to hold on to the super soldier’s body as he begins to slump forward. The weight of his body almost knocks her over, but she keeps a grasp on him as tightly as she can. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” And once more, he’s silent. “Bucky!”

Sometime later, Bucky awakens, wincing at the bright light suddenly flooding the room. He groans, and his head pounds. 

“He’s waking up.” Immediately, he’s on edge, expecting to see another HYDRA agent in front of him. Yet, thankfully, he recognises the voice. It’s Sam. Although, despite that, Bucky knows he can’t be too careful. This could be a trap to lure him into a false sense of security. It’s only when Steve and Sam step in front of him that Bucky slowly starts to relax. He tries to get up, but realises that something is pinning his metal arm down, preventing him from using it. 

“Sorry. We had to be sure you were fully immobile.” Steve informs him. With a sigh, Bucky nods. They’re right, it is the best thing to do, especially when he’s still so unpredictable. But he’d be lying if he didn’t say that the fact that even his closest friends don’t feel safe around him didn’t hurt him deeply.

“W-What happened?” He frowns. He tries to find the memory, but like most of his memories, there’s just an empty space. 

“We were hoping you could tell us that.” Bucky wracks his brain, looking for something, anything, to help.

“All I remember is we were trying to escape, but I got separated. I tried to get back to Y/N, but I got lost. And then, out of nowhere, these agents surrounded me.” The insignia on their uniforms jumps out at him, as clear as day. A final, sick reminder. “It was HYDRA.” 

Suddenly, memories come flooding back. Not of HYDRA, though, or of Steve and Sam. Of Y/N. And he realises that she’s nowhere to be seen. His stomach drops, and he begins to panic once more. “Y/N! Where is she? Is she okay? Oh god, don’t tell me I’ve… please don’t tell me she's ....”

“Y/N’s fine.” Steve reassures him. “She’s resting.” And Bucky breathes the heaviest sigh of relief he swears he ever has before.

“Resting? From what? What happened?” Steve and Sam look between each other, and Bucky raises a brow. The longer they go without saying anything, the more worried he feels.

“You’re right. It was HYDRA who found you. We’re not entirely sure what happened, but they must have reactivated you and sent you out to stop us while they escaped.”

“Oh god.” He sighs, burying his face in his one free hand. “How bad was it?”

“Well, you definitely tried to stop us.” Sam begins, and from his tone, Bucky senses he shouldn’t press him on that any further. Guilt floods through him, and he groans. 

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay Buck.”

“No, it’s not. You two don’t have any idea what it’s like to be responsible for so much pain and carnage, but not even be aware of it. To have to question yourself every time you wake up, wondering what you did in the night. If you really were sleeping, or if you were out there, killing innocent people. You’ve never stared at yourself in the mirror and wondered about the true scale of what you’ve done, and how you can ever repent for it. And you haven’t had to worry about the people who did this to you finding you and doing it all over again, like today.” He snaps. When he sees their shocked faces staring back at him, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay Buck. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad, actually. Surface wounds at most.” Steve replies. Another small sigh of relief sounds from Bucky. That’s good. Not great, but good. They can work with this. Hopefully.

“Thank god. And thank you for bringing me back.” He sighs.

“Oh, that wasn’t us.” Sam informs him. The pair step aside, and Y/N steps forward.

“Bucky!” She smiles, immediately rushing over to him..

“Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He gasps, his voice full of sorrow. Will she ever be able to look at him again? Or will she always see him trying to kill them? He tried so hard to show her he’s not a monster, and this has just undone everything. Y/N kneels down in front of him until she’s eye level with him. Her eyes are so beautiful. How did he never notice that before? His only choice is to hope and pray that she’ll forgive him, and that she’ll ever be able to trust him again. A strand of Bucky’s hair falls down into his face, and Y/N reaches out and tucks it behind his ear. 

“What are you saying sorry for?” She whispers. Bucky scoffs, shaking his head. There’s no way she can be this kind and forgiving. Especially after that.

“I tried to kill you.” She shakes her head. 

“But you didn’t, remember? Just like before, you stopped yourself, and you came back.”

“Because of you. You’re amazing, Y/N. I don’t deserve you. I deserve to be alone. It’s not safe to be with me.” She cups his cheek, gazing into his eyes. And Bucky feels a warmth growing in his stomach once more. 

“Well, that’s tough, because I’m not going anywhere.” She insists. “I know it wasn’t your choice, Bucky. It was HYDRA’s.”

“And what if they come back? They’re still out there, and the last thing I want is to-”

“Then we’ll be ready for them.” She finds his hand, squeezing it tightly. He feels so comforted by her grasp, so safe. He stares back at her, his heart pounding. No matter how hard he tries to convince her to leave, he knows she’s not going to listen. She’s stubborn as all hell, and she definitely isn’t going to give up anytime soon. But it’s so wonderful to have someone care about you so much that when they stare into the depths of hell with you, instead of running, they refuse to leave your side.

“You’re incredible.” He gasps, not even thinking. A light pink dusts his cheeks, and Y/N smiles, giggling a little.

“Besides,” She continues. “You promised me we’d be back in my grandma’s house, remember?” That feels so long ago, an entire lifetime ago. Bucky doesn’t even know if he’ll make it to tomorrow, let alone till then. But as he watches Y/N beaming over at him, and realises just how much he loves her, he knows he has to keep his promise to her. And he'll do his best to make it happen, no matter how long it takes.

In the aftermath of the attack, Y/N and Bucky are soon called into multiple meetings to find out how this could’ve happened, why it happened, and how to stop it from ever happening again. And Y/N hates every minute of them, especially how she has to see Bucky’s face as he has to relive his trauma over and over with every question they ask him, and how they keep prodding him for answers he clearly cannot remember enough to give. When they ask him if he had any knowledge of what HYDRA was planning, or if he had helped them do it, Y/N swears she could’ve thrown the table across the room in anger. Thankfully, they both have Steve and Sam in their corner defending them, and Fury and Maria help in their own… ‘special’ way. 

When it is all finally over, the small matter of where Bucky should stay comes into question. Although the HQ looked alright from the outside, the attack raised so many questions on allegiances and safety that Bucky can no longer stay there. Neither Y/N nor Bucky wanted to ask if it was because they still thought he was responsible.

Thankfully, everyone in charge somehow seems to agree that the best place for Bucky wasn’t in a cell in Avengers HQ, but with Y/N in her safe apartment. Of course, Y/N is more happy to have him stay with her, but she’s confused why she was chosen first. Maybe they noticed the way she looks at him, and how hopelessly in love with him she is. But in all honesty, she doesn’t care about their reasoning. She’s just so thrilled to have Bucky back that she’s going to take every chance she can to be close to him after he’s been locked away for so long. 

And the idea of living together with Bucky again is great. They're used to being together, just the two of them, and immediately felt happy to be going back to it. However, that happiness is very quickly shattered when the pair realise that SHIELD and the Avengers don’t exactly pride their safe houses on comfort or size. Or on having more than one occupant. And that means there’s only one available bed for them. Immediately, Bucky offers to take the couch. Both to be a gentleman, and because deep down, he’s still terrified that he’d scared her away from him for good.

“Bucky, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. Especially not after all this.” Y/N insists, ignoring his attempts to argue that he was fine, and that he’s used to this sort of thing. In return, her insistence that she would sleep on the couch caused just as many protests from him. After some deliberation, the pair eventually decide their only choice is to share the bed.

“I’ll um. I’ll just stay over here, okay? I just want you to be comfortable.” Bucky murmurs, scooting as far as he can to the edge of the bed without the risk of falling out. He sees a flash of disappointment across her face as she sees him trying to get as far away from her as possible, and his stomach twists with guilt. He hates being so far from her, but he still can’t trust himself around her yet, and this is the best way to ensure her safety.

When he wakes up in the middle of the night with another nightmare, screaming and thrashing to thwart the HYDRA agents he’s sure are coming for them both, Y/N is right by his side, wrapping her arms around his crying, shaking frame. Just like before, she stays by his side, whispering reassuring words into his ear and staying awake with him until he calms down enough to try to get some sleep. “Thank you.” He whispers into the darkness.

“Of course.” Her voice replies. 

The next morning, she wakes up in his arms. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N finally feels safe. In his sleep, Bucky reflexively tightens his grasp on her, pulling her closer. Whether for her safety or his own comfort, she doesn’t know. But she loves it all the same. Being here, in Bucky’s arms, just the two of them, is perfect. Everything finally feels right. She looks up at him, his lips parted slightly as he softly snores. He looks so at peace, finally free after god knows how long. His hair falls in his face again, and it takes everything in her to not reach up and tuck it behind his ear once more. Despite how much she wants to be closer to him now, Bucky deserves this rest, and she won’t ruin it for him. 

And besides, looking isn’t so bad, right?

As they’re both under strict orders to stay where they are until the investigation is over, Y/N and Bucky have plenty of free time to do whatever they want. And Y/N takes it as her opportunity to show Bucky some more of the things he’s missed over the years, like her favourite movies and books. She also makes sure to give Bucky the care he deserves. One night, when he feels comfortable enough, she runs him a bath and washes his hair for him, gently massaging the shampoo and conditioner into his scalp. Although Bucky flinches at her touch a few times, he soon feels safe and comfortable enough to relax. And besides, he knows Y/N could never hurt him. Even after everything he’s done, she’s stayed by his side and fought for him when it seemed like nobody else would. 

Honestly, Bucky thinks he could thank her every minute of every day for the rest of her life, and it still wouldn’t be enough appreciation. As she gently rinses his hair, he glances over at her. And the familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach starts all over again. She’s so beautiful. So caring. Even if he never tells her how he feels, that whenever she laughs, his heart grows three sizes bigger, and that he thinks she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, even when she thinks she looks like a mess after waking up… he’s so grateful that he got to know her, and be cared for by her. 

“That’s you all done, Bucky.” Y/N smiles. “Do you need anything else?” Bucky almost laughs at that. Because what else could she do for him? She’s done so much already. Too much, some would argue. 

“No, thanks.” He smiles back, just as bright as Y/N’s. He wonders if she ever notices how he only seems to smile around her… or at least, even more than he does when he’s with Steve and Sam. Little does Bucky know, however, that Y/N has noticed. And every time she remembers it, it sends her heart into a spiral all over again.

“Okay. I’ll leave you in peace then.” As she gets up to leave, Bucky almost stops her, not ready to stop this moment just yet. But then he remembers where they are. How the hell is he going to explain why he wants her to stay to watch him getting out of a bathtub? Even though she’s just washed his hair for him, she’s never seen him like this before. So… undressed. It feels too intimate, too different for them both.

So he lets her go. As the door clicks shut behind her, Bucky sighs, leaning his head against the cool tiles. He can’t keep going on like this, of having his chest tighten every time he sees her, or have his heart beat faster and faster whenever she smiles. He has to tell her. He’s just too damn terrified.

Later that night, Y/N and Bucky sit together listening to music, like they do most nights. Somehow, though, tonight is different. There’s a different atmosphere in the air surrounding them, one neither is willing to mention. Because once that’s broken, and their feelings are out in the open… It changes everything. And despite the hell they’ve both been through, somehow admitting their feelings for each other is the scariest thing either of them could imagine. There are no take backs, no do overs. Once it’s done, that’s it.

“How’s your neck, by the way?” Bucky asks, gesturing to the bandage on it. A cruel reminder of the last few days.

“It’s, um, good.” She nods. “They said it won’t scar or anything, thank god.”

“That’s great then.” Y/N nods again, curtly. She’s never felt so strange around Bucky, even when they first met. Say something. Anything. 

“Do you wanna dance with me?” She asks, her voice coming out so quickly that Bucky has to ask her to repeat herself. God, this is torture. Thankfully though, Bucky says yes, and pulls her up. Y/N presses shuffle on her phone, and soon the all too familiar guitar intro to Take Me Dancing by The Maine begins to play. Immediately, Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Oh god, I’m sorry, this is a slow song. I-I can change it.” She stammers, hating herself for being so obviously flustered.

“No, please don’t.” Bucky chuckles. “It’s been a while, but I was a pretty keen dancer back in the 40s. I could use a refresher.” He holds out his hand, scarred and bruised. “May I?” Y/N slips her hand into his, interlinking her fingers with his and gently running hers along his bruises. But he can see no judgement or fear in her gaze. She looks at him with the same comfort as she always has. Y/N moves his hand to her waist and takes her other hand in his.

The apartment wasn’t exactly made for slow dancing, but honestly, Y/N doesn’t care where they are. Because wherever she and Bucky are… that’s home. Bucky twirls her under his arm, holding her close as he sways her to the music. He really is a wonderful dancer. He definitely kept his skills from the 40s. She used to wonder what it’d have been like to know him then, and how different it would have been from their life now. Obviously, there’d be a lot less fear and violence, but honestly, she doesn’t care about that anymore. She’s so in love with Bucky that she’ll always take him as he is. 

“Give me thunder, give me lightning, And I will give you every part of me.”

As John O’Callaghan’s voice fills the room, Y/N almost finds herself laughing at the lyrics. In a way, it’s a perfect representation of her life with Bucky. He was the storm that blew into her life, destroying everything she once knew. And for a moment, she was terrified he’d destroy her too. But now, they’re slow dancing together, finally safe. And she’s head over heels in love with him. Bucky steps closer to her without even thinking, pulling her even closer to his chest as his grasp tightens on her. 

Even as the music fades out, Bucky keeps a hold on her, gently swaying her to their own rhythm. The warmth radiating from his body envelops them both, and she can hear his heartbeat through his chest.

“You know.” He murmurs, his stubble lightly grazing her cheek. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for what you did for me. What you continue to do for me.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck. You never did.” 

“I do.” He disagrees. “I really do. You saved me, showed me what more there is to life. You may have given me my old life back, but you’ve given me something wonderful and new, too. Hope.” He looks at her properly now, light blue eyes staring into her soul. “And I can’t thank you enough for it. You’re a real angel, you know that?” She can see tears building in his eyes, and no doubt she’s close to tears, too. Her heart swells, and she smiles.

“You’re welcome, Bucky. But I wouldn’t say I’m an angel. I just saw you needed help, and I gave you it. Anyone else would.” Bucky blinks in surprise, unable to believe how this wonderful, beautiful person is undermining herself so much, especially when he owes his life to her. But he’ll tell her how special she is for the rest of his life.

“'Anyone else', is not you, Y/N.” He whispers, his breath hot against her cheek and sending a shiver down her spine. “And you are an angel to me.” Sniffling, Y/N nods.

“Thank you Bucky. I wish it could be like this all the time, just me and you, together.” She sighs.

“Me too.” Her eyes flicker to his lips. So pink. So soft. Have they always been so pink? God, it’s like I’m noticing him for the first time all over again.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“I have something I need to tell you.” Bucky takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.” Despite how often her heart beat increases around Bucky, in that moment Y/N swears she feels it stop. For a moment she thinks she misheard him, but when he continues, saying: “I don’t know when, o-or how it happened. But god, Y/N, I’m tired of pretending. I love you so much. And I want you to know it.” She’s too stunned to reply, and Bucky’s heart sinks, thinking she doesn't feel the same. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I-”

But a comforting hand on his forearm stops him. One he knows all too well. “Bucky.” Y/N smiles softly, tears already running down her cheeks. “I love you too.”

“You do?” He gasps. Gingerly, he raises his metal hand, wordlessly asking her if it’s okay to continue, and Y/N nods. Bucky cups her cheek with his metal hand, cool against her skin. He never thought something responsible for so much death and pain could hold something so beautiful. “Can I kiss you?” When she nods again, Bucky gently leans in close, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is firm, yet soft. It’s nothing like Y/N has ever experienced before. She pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. When they pull apart, Bucky’s cheeks are a soft pink, and he chuckles, no doubt trying to maintain his cool facade from the 40s, but completely failing. He gazes back at her, unable to stop smiling. “That was… perfect.” Y/N leans in, pecking his cheek.

“You’re perfect.” She whispers.

“Are you trying to get me to kiss you again?” He raises a brow, yet still can’t keep the grin off of his face. “Because it’s working.” And then he pulls her close once more.

“It’s not going to be for too long…. I hope.” Bucky reassures Y/N, squeezing her hand. Yet, as she glances over at him, she can tell he’s trying to put on a brave face himself. A few weeks after she and Bucky admitted their love for one another, King T’Challa, The King of Wakanda, and an ally of Steve and Sam’s, heard of Bucky’s plight and offered to take him in and use their technology to help him break free from HYDRA’s programming. Obviously, they both jumped at the chance. And now, the day that Bucky’s going to leave has finally come. 

Y/N knows this is the best place for Bucky to be, and she’s incredibly glad that he finally gets the chance to heal, and grateful to T’Challa for giving him this chance. But the fact that Bucky’s leaving her is tearing her up inside. Thankfully, T’Challa was incredibly kind and understanding, telling her she can visit him whenever she wants, and that she can even stay there with him for a while if she wanted to.

And whilst she wants that more than anything, Y/N said no. At least, for the first little while. She loves Bucky more than anything in the world, and because of that, she wants to give him the best chance to heal. And to her, that means stepping back and letting him take as long as he needs to process this on his own. That doesn’t mean she’s going to completely stop talking to him, though. She’s going back to her grandma’s house for a week or two to assess the damage and deal with things there, and then she, Steve and Sam are going to Wakanda to visit him. She sighs, looking at Bucky. 

Yet it still feels like she’s never going to see him again. Bucky pulls her into a hug, as if he senses her nerves. “I’ll see you soon, alright? And like T’Challa said, I’m sure we’ll be able to keep in contact somehow.”

“I know.” She manages a smile. “Just don’t forget about me, alright?” Bucky chuckles, giving her a quick, yet passionate kiss.

“Like I ever could.” They stay like that, in each other’s arms for a while, until T’Challa approaches them both.

“It’s time.” He smiles. 

“Well, this is it.” Bucky chuckles, but she can see the tears shimmering in his eyes. Y/N surges forward, grabbing him and squeezing tightly. 

“I love you.” She whimpers, and Bucky sniffles.

“I love you too.” 

And with one last kiss, he’s gone.

Y/N makes the trip back to her grandma’s house in silence. Steve and Sam offered to go with her in case any rogue HYDRA agents were there, but she declined, still too emotional from saying goodbye to Bucky to even think about saying goodbye to them, even if it is just for a few weeks. The time she spent with them was so fast-paced and frightening, and it’s hard to believe it’s over, and how things are changing between them all. 

The house still looks just as imposing as it did before, and the front steps still creak as she goes up them, advancing towards the front door. Her hands brush against the doorknob, and she braces herself for what she’s about to find. The memory of the last time she was here enters her mind once more, and Y/N sighs. If only she knew what awaited her the last time she opened that front door, maybe she wouldn’t have opened it. But deep down, she knows that if Bucky would’ve been there on the other side, she’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

Strangely, the house seems more or less the same since they left, only a few things out of place here and there, presumably caused by the wind blowing through the window Bucky broke. It’s like nobody has been there at all. Despite her footsteps around the house, it’s eerily quiet. Last time, she sensed Bucky’s presence, and knew she wasn’t alone. Now though, she can't feel a thing. Not even a ghost.

Every time she enters a room, a part of her expects to see Bucky sitting there, waiting for her. Like he was the last time she came here. And every time she realises he’s not there, it breaks her heart all over again. Finally, after she’s checked every room, the reality that everyone is really gone hits her, and she breaks down in tears.

She’s never felt so alone.

This is NOT the end of this story! There's still going to be an epilogue (that may turn into a final chapter depending on how long it is). They will get their happy ending, I promise!

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