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upat4amwiththemoon · 11 months

Text

Too much

Summary: I need you to hold me.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

Warnings: angst, cursing

Word count: 1052

a/n: I’m clingy af, so I hide it by not talking to anyone and isolating myself bc I’m smart and mentally stable😎

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69 @scarsw1fe

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Letting out a squeal as she stretches her whole body, Y/N opens her eyes slowly. The morning sun is lightly shining through the bedroom curtains, making her smile. She turns her head to the side, seeing her girlfriend of one year still asleep. Y/N wraps her arms and legs around Wanda, and nuzzles her face into the crook of her neck, sighing at the comforting warmth that engulfs her.

Wanda’s breathing changes the moment she feels the weight on her. Mumbling something incoherent, she tries to pull away, but Y/N is holding on too tightly to get away. “It’s too hot like this.” She grumbles, eyes still closed. Her voice is raspy and tired.

“But you’re so comfortable.” Y/N whispers, at the edge of falling asleep again.

“Y/N.”

The hands pushing her away makes Y/N finally roll further from her. She has a pout on her face, but Wanda doesn’t see it, having turned around so her back is facing her.

Y/N moves to her back, staring at the roof. Her tiredness has now fully passed, so she stands up and goes to the kitchen, deciding not to think too deeply about Wanda’s action. She’s allowed to have her space, even when Y/N feels like being as close to her as possible.

It takes twenty minutes for the breakfast to be ready, and for Wanda to gather up her strength to face another day. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Y/N grins when her girlfriend shuffles into the room. “Did you sleep well?” She sets the breakfast into two separate plates and pushes one of them in front of Wanda.

“Mostly, I just don’t like how hot it gets in our room.”

“We could get a fan.” Y/N sits down opposite of Wanda.

Humming, she just moves the food around the plate. “I was thinking,” she bites the inside of her cheek, “maybe we could get another bed to the study, so I could sleep there. That way it won’t be too hot. ‘Cause, you know, two bodies in one bed generate more heat.”

Y/N’s face falls. She sets her fork down and stares at Wanda, who isn’t meeting the eye contact. “Uhm, sure…if- if that’s something that’d make you more comfortable.” She gives her a tight lipped smile before going back to her food. Did she do something wrong?

“Yeah, thanks.”

The rest of the breakfast goes in silence, but Y/N goes right back to normal when they settle to the couch together. She flings her legs over Wanda’s lap and snuggles herself right next to her. “Do you have to go to the compound today?” She asks, playing with the ends of Wanda’s hair.

“I don’t think so.” Wanda’s posture seems more rigid than normally. She isn’t rubbing Y/N’s leg like she usually does and her face is stoic.

Y/N stares at Wanda. Her hand lowers from Wanda’s hair to her own lap, she starts playing with her fingers, suddenly nervous. Is Wanda angry at her? is the first thought going through her mind.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower.” Wanda pushes Y/N legs off of her as she stands up.

“Can I join?” There’s a playful glint in her eyes.

“I’d prefer to go alone.”

Wanda doesn’t wait for Y/N to answer. Sitting up properly, Y/N puts the television on and starts watching the first channel she stumbles upon. Her mind is raising all over, thinking over the past week, past month, if she has done something to upset Wanda this badly, but nothing concrete comes to mind.

The quiet sound of the shower turning on seems almost overpowering to Y/N, her senses heightened from the sudden tension growing in their home. She tries to focus on her breathing, three seconds in, three second out, forcing her brain to think it’ll be okay.

After a few hours of things going a bit more normally, Wanda decided to get a start on dinner while Y/N takes her turn in the shower. She’s humming a Sokovian lullaby to herself while stirring the pot on the stove. Her body tenses immediately, as Y/N’s arms wrap around her waist.

“Whatcha cooking?” Y/N’s voice is cheery, a grin decorating her face. She leans her chin against Wanda’s shoulder. “Smells really good.”

“Can you stop?” Her voice is raised and sharper than usual. Stepping away from Wanda, to give her room to turn around, Y/N’s grin turns into a look of confusion. “Why can’t I ever get a minute alone here, huh? You’re just so goddamn clingy every minute of the day. You’re fucking suffocating me.”

Y/N stays quiet, surprised by the words coming out of her lover’s mouth.

“I’m finally starting to understand why everyone warned me about you being too much. Too loud, too touchy, too needy, too fucking annoying!”

The words hit Y/N like a gut punch. It physically hurts her to hear those words again. She really through she had gotten herself under control, she promised not to be such a nuisance in everyone’s lives, but here she is again. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“Thant’s your problem! You’re blind to your own faults.” Wanda lets out a frustrated groan when she notices the despair on Y/N’s face. Turning the stove off, she moves the pot to the side and walks to the hallway. “I’m going to the compound for some time, finish dinner by yourself.”

Y/N watches as Wanda pulls on her shoes and jacket, stepping out of the house with the door slamming.

Her lower lip trembles when the sound of the car turning on hits her ears. She’s really leaving. Y/N goes to the living room, her appetite lost, and sits on the couch, the sound of the television and tinnitus filling her head. Her eyes are wet, but she doesn’t let the tears fall.

She stays there on her place for hours, not moving even an inch. The sun is already setting down and the grasshoppers have started to play their song.

The next time Wanda walks through the door, Y/N keeps her mouth shut and blurry eyes locked on the television, and Wanda lets out a sigh of relief.

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tinyfishtits · 8 days

Text

You Are Redeemed

Micah Bell / Female Reader

Photo by tinyfishtits

Summary: Reader convinces Micah to join her on a job robbing a homestead. Things do not go as planned... Rating: Mature; Graphic Depictions of Violence Word Count: 5,339 Tags: Light Angst, First Kiss

Authors Note: Contains minor spoilers for a special encounter in the game, if you care about that. This was SO FUN to write, hope ya'll ike it. ★ Read on AO3 ★

I sat on the outskirts of camp, watching as the sun slowly sank behind the mountains, painting the landscape in shades of pink and lavender. Though my peace was short lived as someone walked toward where I rested on the cliff's edge. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Dutch’s bitch returns.” I said, taking a hit of my cig as Micahs heavy steps neared. “Shut up and give me one of those.” He demanded, taking a seat next to me. I pulled the pack from my pocket and chucked it into his lap.

“What, would you prefer the prodigal son? ” He just grunted in response and lit his cigarette. “Well aren’t you in a good ole’ mood.” I murmured under my breath.

“You wanna talk, sweetheart?” He drew a long puff and sank back onto his elbows, waving a dismissive hand at me “Go ahead.”

I crinkled my nose at the pet name. Flinging the butt of my cigarette off the cliff side and lighting another, I asked “Whatchu doin’ tomorrow?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing sidelong at me, “No .” Was all he said.

“You don’t even know what I’m about t-”

“Find somebody else.” His voice was flat and words final, “Camps full of idiots, I'm sure one of ‘em will go on whatever fools errand you got this time.”

“You’re not even the least bit curious?”

“ No .” He said, tone already laced in annoyance. I went quiet for a moment, thinking of a way to entice him.

“I’d split the take with you, fifty fifty.”

“ God woman! I’m not even back an hour and you’re already trying to get me killed?”

“Fine.” I spat back at him, “ I’ll just do it myself… Asshole.” I got up and stormed off back to camp, Micah's half hearted yell of my name his only response. I wasn’t sure the job could even be done alone, but to hell if I was gonna grovel with him over it. His ego was big enough.

I was already kicking myself for being so soft by the time I reached my tent. I knew we weren’t friends or nothin’... But I’d been planning this robbery all month, waiting for him to show his face at camp to tell him about it and he just couldn't have cared less. I didn’t want to admit how much it hurt, how much I stupidly yearned for that asshole's praise.

It wasn’t until late next morning that Micah appeared beside me as I readied my horse for the ride. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” He drawled, leaning against the hitching post as I mounted my horse.

“Don’t you got better things to do than babysit me?” I hissed, “Like sittin’ on your ass all day?” My voice still heavy with venom from our encounter last night.

I knew I really had no reason to be so mad, I had put us both in danger on jobs before. But so had he! For every job that went bad from my lack of experience, he completely blew out of proportion with his lack of self control. And it’d been months since our last robbery, I’d improved a lot since, not that he was around or cared to notice.

“Hey now,” he lifted his hands in surrender, “I come with a peace offering.” I just rolled my eyes. “Give me your hand.”

“What? No-” I started but he interjected, “Stop bein’ stubborn and give it here!” He yanked my hand from the horn of my saddle and placed a long leather sheath into it.

“A knife?” I whispered, turning it over in my hand. Unsheathing it I almost gasped. The black blade was decorated with the most intricate engraving of flowers and herons and inlaid with what looked to be gold.

“Why…?” Was all I could muster in response.

“Before you go gettin’ all sentimental, I stole it off someone while robbing a stagecoach a few days ago. Thought maybe you could use one.”

“But it's-” Beautiful, expensive, worth more than my rifle… “don’t you wanna sell it?”

“Well if you don’t like it give it back and I will.” His temper shot up a bit. I knew he wasn’t used to gifting people things, and hell, I wasn’t used to receiving them.

“Thank you.” I said finally, “I like it.”

“Okay then.” He grunted as he turned away and mounted Baylock. “Now, you gonna tell me about this job or what?”

I tried to hide my surprise and relief at his sudden willingness to accompany me on a job he knew nothing about. I truly had been preparing myself for the worst case scenario of going at it alone. Not wanting to delude myself into thinking that his change of heart could be at all for my sake, I shook the thought from my mind and the building blush from my cheeks. He was just in it for the money… I had promised him half the take in my desperation, after all.

“You spend much time out in Lemoyne?” I started, catching up with him as we trotted down the path out of camp. He nodded. “Some.”

“Well there’s a farm out there with this couple, been runnin’ a shine business out their house. Figure they got a good stash somewhere in there.”

“You figure? ” The skepticism in his tone made my brow furrow. He’d done more for less. Why he was so intent on giving me a hard time over the others in camp, I had no idea.

“Well if there aint a lot of cash, we could always steal the shine. I figure that's a pretty safe bet.”

He just hummed in acknowledgement. For Micah, any response not laced in mockery was a good one. “What do you want me to do?” He asked.

“The couple, well… They’re kinda odd.” I started, trying to piece together the best way to pitch my idea. Micah just raised a brow at me, waiting for the rest of the story. “Bill and Arthur both had run-ins with them. Said they gave ‘em a bad feeling. Seems they um… like invitin’ men in for dinner.”

“Well if they scared big ole Bill and Morgan they must be terrifying.” His words dripped with sarcasm. Hook, line, sinker. All it took for Micah to be in on a job was the chance to prove himself more capable than his fellow gang members, especially Arthur.

“So you’ll do it?” I prodded, “Distract them, I mean. While I loot the house?” “Sure sweetheart. If you ask nicely.”

It took every last bit of self control not to spit back at him. “ Please” I forced out through gritted teeth. He shot me a cocky smirk. “And don’t go shootin’ the place up neither. I’d like to do this clean and quiet for once.” I added.

“You got it boss.” He joked, but the smugness sank a bit from his expression. Always the trigger happy gunslinger.

Our ride through the Heartlands was quiet, neither of us being too keen on small talk. The weather over head was nice, cloudy but still warm and dry. That was more than I could say for what we were headed toward. A nasty lookin’ grey sky loomed in the distance.

By the time we reached Emerald Ranch it was pouring. I cursed myself for not bringing a jacket, my simple cotton button up was soaked after just a minute in the downpour. I wrapped myself up in the blanket I had stored on my saddle in an attempt to ward off the chill the storm brought with it, much to Micahs amusement.

He let out a howl of laughter, “You look like a washed up Nun! Should I start callin’ you sister?”

“Shutup!” I replied, having to yell over the noise of pounding rain and cracking thunder, “Take a right here, we’re almost there.”

The foliage grew denser the closer we got, an eerie feeling lingering in the darkness of the forest stretched out before us. I pushed it back, trying to clear my brain for the job ahead. I’d never been good with storms, that deep-seated childhood fear of thunder and lightning never having left me. It’ll help cover any noise you make, I tried to convince myself, wash away any tracks if things go sour and they come lookin’ for you .

Pulling off the road just shy of the path that rounded up the hill to the homestead, I hitched my horse and waved Micah over. “I’ll go on foot from here. Once you’re inside I’ll start lookin’.” He nodded, the water collecting on his hat cascaded off with every slight movement, I could barely make out his face through the mini waterfall it created.

“Alright.” He drawled, nudging Baylock up the path. His dark, leather-cloaked form shimmered with water even in the darkness below the tree’s dense canopy, and then he was gone.

I abandoned my makeshift cloak and trudged up the muddy hillside, Micah’s knife and my revolver the only weapons on my hip. By the time the house was visible through the trees, Micah was hitching Baylock and talking to someone on the porch. The closer I got to the treeline I could make out the forms in the darkness. A large man dressed in overalls was waving Micah in when someone else joined them on the porch. A woman by the looks of her large skirt.

I made my way to the side of the house with a crudely built add-on, which was really saying something, the whole place seemed like it could collapse at any moment. The small shed had no windows, no light spilled out from the door, it was the safest bet for where they’d stash the shine.

Running out from the cover of the trees I reached the shed door, fully expecting I’d have to break the lock. But when I got out my pick to start working on it the door creeped open from my touch alone. Either they were really stupid, or… The place was empty. My heart sank as I scanned the small room for anything of value, nothing. There were old shine brewing canisters in the corner but they looked like they hadn’t been used in a good decade. Fuck. I cursed myself, knowing Micah would never let me live this down. Though he would probably juice the story up just to rub it in Arthur's face.

I was rummaging through a tool box for any hidden valuables when a large THUMP sounded on the other side of the wall. Sighing, I readied myself for the ribbing I was about to get and rounded the house to the back door. “I thought we agreed to keep this one quiet-” I started as I entered the house, fully expecting to see the bodies of the couple on the floor. But instead found Micah, strewn out lifelessly still in the middle of the room.

“Micah?” I breathed, shock freezing me in place at the sight of him so… helpless.

“What do we have here honey pie?” A large man asked from across the room, looking my wet, trembling figure over with a sick kind of hunger. He was dressed in nothing but a wethered pair of overalls that could barely contain the skin spilling out from it. Seeing him up close set a new kind of fear coursing through me. He was so fucking big! There was no way I'd be able to fight my way out of this.

The woman he talked to was crouching over Micah’s body, hands greedily rifling through his pockets. It was when she touched his revolver that the adrenaline finally hit me and before I could even process that I'd grabbed my own gun, I was emptying my cylinder into the man’s chest. Six shots later and the mountain of a man was still barreling toward me, a guttural roar ripping through the house.

I stumbled back, practically falling out the door I’d come through as I tried to put as much distance between us as possible. Jumping over the stair railing I landed on a pile of chopped wood and saw it, an axe resting against the house. Gripping it just as the man came crashing out the back door, I pivoted on my heels, swinging the blade smack into the giant’s neck.

He floundered forward, a grotesque gurgling erupting from his mouth as blood sputtered from the gash on his neck and he fell to his knees at the foot of the stairs. I just watched as the fight slowly faded from his huge, convulsing form and he sunk to the mud with one final twitch. Pulling the axe from his neck, I made my way back up the stairs, rage bubbling in my veins at whatever these sick sons of bitches were trying to pull.

But all feeling drained out of me when I opened the door to the woman pointing Micahs revolver at his head.

“Put the axe down.” She demanded, her tone disconcertingly calm until she spotted the blood. “Bray? Honey?” Her voice cracked, yelling for him again. “Bray!?”

“He’s dead.” Was all I said, my voice flat and lifeless, I could barely recognize it as my own.

I could practically see the hysteria wash over her as she pointed the gun at me and started firing erratically, screaming at the top of her lungs. “YOU BITCH!”

I rushed her, sprinting through the gunfire and knocking her to the ground, the gun thrown from her hand at the impact. She thrashed beneath me, her hands clawing at every part of me she could reach. “Stop!” I yelled back, grabbing her wrists and pushing them to the ground. Even restrained she was trying to buck me off of her, her legs kicking wildly behind me. “STOP!” I repeated.

I didn’t want to kill her. But she was making mercy seem pretty damn distasteful the more she screamed and squirmed. “Where’s the money?” I demanded, my voice too breathless to sound as menacing as I’d hoped. She just spat in my face. Reflexively, I reached up to wipe the glob of mucus away and she took the opportunity to headbutt me.

I fell back with a gasp and when I looked up, she was coming at me with a knife. I tried getting to my feet but she was too fast. She jumped on me, slashing at my extended arms as I screamed. Lifting the knife above her head for a final deathly blow, I used all my strength to push myself up and wrap myself around her. Tackling her back to the ground we writhed around, a blur of clawing, slashing and screaming as we wrestled for the knife.

She dug a finger into one of the fresh slashes on my arm and I shot back like I'd been electrocuted. Rising to her feet, knife in hand, she screamed down at me, “YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR-” I lunged at her, the hunting knife Micah had gifted me unsheathed, and drove it into her abdomen. Her scream sputtered off into incoherent murmurings as she fell to her knees, my blade still inside her.

“Tell me.” I pleaded between panting breaths, “Where’s the money?” Her wide eyes met mine, glossy but still so full of that manic rage. “Momma?” She whispered, her hands grasping at my forearms as she tried to stay upright. And then, with a single rasping breath, she collapsed at my feet with one last soft cry for her mother.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I stood frozen, bloodied blade still stretched out before me. “Micah?” I called out, my voice barely a whisper. But the house stayed eerily silent. I fell to the floor beside him and frantically shook at his limp body. Nothing. “MICAH!” I yelled, taking his face in my hands and lowering my ear to his mouth, then his heart. I couldn’t tell if it was my own heart pounding in my ears or if he truly was alive, but for the moment it was enough to kick my scattered brain into action.

Grabbing him by the ankles I started to drag his body toward the front door. The blood from the slashes on my arm dripped down, coating my hands in sticky warmth as I struggled to keep my grip on the slick leather of his boots. “ Jesus,” I grunted, almost falling to my ass as I lost my grip on him, “You’re heavier than you look.” I mumbled. It was a jeer that would usually prompt one of his snarky remarks, making the silence that followed even more unsettling.

Making it to the door, I swung it open and whistled for Baylock. “Come here boy.” He huffed and reared as I dragged Micah out on the porch and tried maneuvering him more carefully down the steps. “Shhh.” I hushed as I reached out to comfort the horse, obviously just as distressed at the sight of Micah passed out as I was. “Hush now, I need you to help me out here.” I said, stroking his mane and guiding him to lay down so I could get Micah in the saddle.

It took a lot of coaxing both of Baylock and my own strength, to get Micah and all his dead weight in that saddle. But after a few sweaty, breathless minutes, it was done. With Micah securely slumped on the saddle I rushed back in the house to grab his revolver, and that's when I saw it.

In the chaos of it all I hadn’t stopped to really look around the house. It was just as dilapidated as the exterior, dirty and sparse. Though the one thing that really stood out was the large portrait of a woman right across from the front door, the only decoration in the whole house. “What are the chances…” I muttered to myself, reaching for the painting.

Concealed behind it was a hole in the wall filled with cash. A laugh of pure disbelief burst out of me as I took in the wads of bills and gold bars. Quickly fetching Micahs satchel I stuffed it full of the loot, all the while sobbing and laughing like a maniac at the pure absurdity of the whole thing.

Not wanting to linger in the house of horrors longer than need be, I quickly retrieved Micah's stolen possessions from the woman's corpse and got the hell out of there. Getting behind Micah on the saddle I held him with one arm and took the reins in the other, guiding Baylock down to where my horse still waited patiently at the end of the path.

“Come on girl, follow me.” I yelled to her. Her head shot up from where she grazed and she obediently trotted to my side as I led us away from the homestead. The downpour had mercifully subsided to a drizzle, though the land would be a mud pit for a good day at least. I considered riding all the way back to camp, but I wasn’t in good shape myself. There was no way I'd be able to hold Micah and keep myself upright for the cross-state trek back to Horseshoe Overlook.

With all the cash I had now, I debated going into Rhodes and getting a room. Though Micah’s unconscious state was sure to attract more questions than I cared to invite, especially with all the money I had on me. So I settled for a short jaunt up the road toward Emerald Ranch, leading the horses off the path a bit until I found a clearing suitable for a small make-shift camp.

I hadn’t anticipated being away from camp more than a few hours, but it seemed Micah always kept enough supplies on him to get him through the night if need be, so I began to set things up. Laying his bedroll out, I tried easing Micah off the saddle, only to have him crash into me and pin me in the mud. I coughed, rasping for breath as I tried wriggling out from beneath him. It was like being stuck under a cow, the man was deceptively dense.

I pushed at his shoulder, my arms burning with the strain, the wounds that had just started scabbing popping open and bleeding once more. After a few agonizing minutes I managed to roll him off of me enough to get myself free. We were both caked in mud from the fall, Micah's golden hair so dirty it was almost black now.

Everything else was easy, mindless work in comparison to the day i’d had. Building a fire, setting up the tent, cracking open a can of food for dinner. Hopeful he’d wake up before nightfall, I’d cooked him a can of beans as well… and when he didn’t, I scarfed those down too. I was exhausted. Every inch of my body was in some kind of pain. Slashed, bruised, sore. I tended to the knife wounds on my arms the best I could, nabbing a bit of a health cure Micah had in his satchel to fight off infection. And now I just, waited.

Crouching beside Micah in the tent, I carefully removed his jacket and shirt. I had no idea what they did to knock him out so heavily, but I wanted to at least make sure he hadn’t been stabbed or shot. Running my hands through his hair, I felt no bumps or blood, so I ruled out concussion. His chest, stomach, and what I could reach of his back was also unscathed. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was just sleeping. His chest rose and fell with slow, even breaths. His eyes even fluttered beneath his lashes every so often, like he was dreaming. Not knowing what more there was to do I just began washing the mud off him with my still soaked blanket, and prayed to god he wouldn’t choose this moment to wake up, he’d call me a bath maid for the rest of my goddamn life.

Once he was clean and my blanket sufficiently muddied, I threw it out of the tent and sank back on the bedroll beside him. Micah, being the human furnace he was, didn’t travel with a blanket of his own. And even though we were in the bayou, the storm had brought with it a ferocious wind that made the night painfully chill. Drifting off, I found myself edging closer and closer to Micah’s warm body, until halfway through the night I was completely wrapped around him. He still did not stir, and I figured I’d much rather take whatever possible teasing this would get me if he woke up now than shiver to death a few feet away.

Cuddled up to Micahs side, I fell into the most blissful sleep I’d had in years. I did not stir for the rest of the night, only beginning to wake when the sun shone down through the tree canopy and the chorus of birds and bugs filled the forest with their music. “Mornin’” a soft, gravely voice vibrated under my ear.

“Morning.” I yawned, my head still in a sleepy haze as I stretched and came to. A deep rumbling vibrated once more beneath me and I shot up. Micah's chuckles turned to shallow coughs as he gazed up at me, a smug smile on his lips. “You’re awake!” I practically yelled, throwing my arms around him. “Thank god you’re not dead” I mumbled into his bare chest, “you scared the shit out of me!”

“You sure I ain't dead darlin’?” He drawled, wrapping a large arm around my back, keeping me pressed against him. “Never thought in all my life I’d hear someone thank god I was alive.”

“What happened back there? The hell did they do to you?” I stretched my neck to look up at him, making no effort to leave his warmth just yet.

“They drugged me. Put somethin’ in the damn whiskey.” He looked around then, sitting up a bit to inspect the camp I put together. “How’d you get me outta there?”

“Well it wasn’t easy.” I said, finally unraveling myself from him and getting up propper. “You weigh twice as much as you look, I swear. It was like lugging around a ton of bricks.”

“Where you goin’?” He said with a smile, patting the space beside him I’d just occupied. “Come back here.”

“What? No- I- I’m gonna go get some food.”

“So you gonna act like you didn’t just spend all night wrapped around me?” The smug smile on his lips grew. When I didn’t move, he got up with a groan and walked toward me. Only stopping when he stood just a breath away.

“I’m only gonna say this once…” He said, his voice surprisingly soft for what his words implied. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Thank you.” His breath brushed over my face, warm and inviting, “For saving my life.”

Despite how much of a cocky, slimy asshole he could be. How more often than not I wanted to throttle him… I found myself leaning in, my hand coming up to caress the scar that ran from his lip down his chin. His eyes followed my movement, then in a flash he grabbed my wrist, lifting my arm to inspect the blood soaked cloth there.

“What happened?” He demanded, his brow furrowing as he noticed the bandages wrapped around my other arm as well.

“I- Um. Got stabbed… a little.” His touch was delicate as he carefully peeled back the cloth to expose the jagged red slashes that peppered my forearm. His face crinkled in anger.

“I’ll kill those crazy bastards-” He started, but I interjected. “They’re dead.” His eyes widened, looking me over more thoroughly now.

“Even the-”

“Dead.” I said once more, my voice flat as I tried not to remember their bloodied corpses. He squinted, cocking his head as he observed me. Looking me over as if he was seeing something in me he hadn’t noticed before.

“Okay.” Was all he replied before he turned toward the horses, “Come on.”

“Where are you-”

“ We’re going into town. You’re gonna see a doctor. Now mount up.” When I dug my heels in the ground he sighed, already exasperated, “I may weigh a ton, doll. But by the looks of it, you don’t. So unless you want me to pick you up and throw you on the back of this saddle-”

“ Fine.” I muttered, walking over and mounting my horse. “Oh, Micah?” He hummed in acknowledgment. “You might wanna look in your satchel.”

“ Shit.” He muttered, pulling out one of the gold bars, “All this for shine? ”

“There was no shine.” I said, starting off down the path, “My guess is those sick sons of bitches were druggin’ folk and robbin ‘em blind.” Micah fell silent.

“Anyway… Bet you twenty bucks I can beat you to Rhodes.” And before he could reply I kicked my horse into action and raced down the road. The only response I could hear from him was a holler as he reared Baylock and chased after me.

We raced along the Kamassa River, Micah on my tail the entire time. I knew he was a better rider than me, but he didn’t bother overtaking me until the town came into view. Then, like the cocky ass he was, he stopped Baylock completely. Giving me a good 30 seconds head start before he jolted into a gallop and flew past me just before I reached the fork in the road that led to Rhodes. By the time I got to the main street in town, Micah was already sitting outside the doctor's office.

“Twenty bucks, was it?” He said with a sly smirk as I hitched my horse. I just rolled my eyes, “Put it on my tab, cowboy.”

“Hey.” He grabbed my wrist as I went to open the office door, “You still got that knife I gave ya?”

I nodded, reaching for the leather sheath on my hip. “Can I borrow it?” My brow crinkled.

“Don’t you gotta knife?” He just stared at me, his hand still gripping my wrist. I sighed and handed it over.

“I’ll be out here. Go get patched up doll.” He said, sitting on the bench beside the door.

The doctor was an old, greying man whose voice was so gravely from decades of smoking it made Micahs sound like velvet in comparison. “Someone did a real number on you.” He croaked, his cold hands poking and prodding at my tender flesh as he rubbed my wounds with disinfectant and some kind of numbing cream.

It took about half an hour for him to stitch up the worst of my gashes, and wrap up the rest. By the time he was done I was covered in bandages from wrist to elbow on each arm, it looked a whole lot worse than it felt. Paying him for his time and grabbing a few bottles of tonic on my way out, I found Micah just as I’d left him.

“Good as new.” I announced, and Micah practically jumped out of his seat. He looked me over, his brows knitting as his eyes scanned the large bandages. Without a word, he patted the space beside him and I joined him on the bench. Taking one bandaged arm in his hand, he gingerly turned it around, inspecting it. Then placed my blade in my open palm.

I turned it over in my hand and found something carved into the wooden handle. Bringing it closer to my face, I squinted at the small lettering. You are redeemed. It read. I whispered the words, running a finger over the indentations in the wood. A reminder of the price paid and the bounty won, life. ‘Thank you for saving my life.’ his words echoed in my head.

I had the feeling Micah would no longer shrug off my jobs, that what I sacrificed to save us made me an equal in his eyes. Given the lone wolf he was… well, it meant a lot. I didn’t know what to say to that. The words thank you didn’t seem to hold the same weight any more. Micah stood then, holding a hand out to me.

“Breakfast?” He asked, jerking his head toward the saloon behind him. I sheathed the knife and took his hand. Pulling me up against him, we stood chest to chest in silence, eyes caught in each other's gazes.

My hands trailed up his arms, stopping at the scruffy hair on his face to run my fingers through it. His eyes dropped to my lips, and that was all the confirmation I needed to pull his face down to mine. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me taut against him as his lips took mine.

He was surprisingly tender, the big gruff outlaw. His lips softly parting my own, tongue ever so slightly trailing over my bottom lip as our mouths moved together, as if this was our thousandth kiss and not our first. Our breath grew heavy, melding the longer we stayed pressed together. My hands tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened, keeping him close. It wasn’t until his warm hand snaked under the hem of my shirt that someone cleared their throat beside us and I broke away from him, realizing we were still in the middle of town in broad daylight.

“Mornin’.” An older woman said curtly as she stepped around us to enter the doctors office.

“Mornin’” Micah drawled, tipping his hat to her as she passed. He flashed her a large, genuine smile and turned back to me, face alight. “Hungry, are ya?” His tone only slightly teasing, the same hunger burning in his eyes.

I took his hand, my own stupid smile growing on my face. “ Starved. ”

#micah bell fan fiction #micah bell x you #micah bell fic #micah bell x reader #rdr2 fanfic #micah bell #tinyfishtits #my works

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sweet-lover-girl · 1 year

Text

Anxiety

Please DO NOT read if you think this may trigger your anxiety, I would hate myself if I caused one of you to panic from something that I wrote.

With that being said, this is about how you, the reader has really bad panic attacks and Abby comforting you, plus Nora, shes there to.

Warnings--Heavy panic attack, mention of blood, mention on being forced to take pills.

If I missed anything please let me know so I can update it.Not proof read, sorry…This is also kind of all over the place so I'm sorry for that too..

Pairing Abby/reader (Nora is the your best friend)

You were walking a few feet behind the salt lake crew, on the way to the cafeteria to get lunch. Everyone was surprisingly free right now, Nora and Mel didn’t have any emergencies to take care of, Manny and Abby just got back from an early morning patrol, and Lean, Jordan and Owen weren’t busy so they joined up.

Abby and Manny were talking smack at each other with Nora laughing at them, Mel and Owen were holding hands laughing along side Nora and the love birds of the group were in their own little world; and then there was you. You were just following the popular group as you were great friends with all of them—but Abby mostly. She was your everything. You two have been dating for two years now and everything was great, she knew about you before you two had ever interacted as Manny told her about you. You were gonna be his next fling—until you told him you were lesbian and then he immediately backed off, respecting your preference.

Today was a rougher day for you as your anxiety has been pretty bad since you woke up. You paced almost all night fretting about anything and everything until Abby had you lay down with her, but you still just couldn’t really sleep, to anxious to stay still—making poor Abby get hardly any sleep, you felt so bad.

You were pulled out of your head when you heard the metal doors get pushed open—the loud voices from inside pouring out and washing over you. The voices of so many people in one place, cramped together to make room for more people to pile in. There was yelling and laughter, screaming and belting voice just to hear the other person next to them.

You slowly stop walking as you watch with teary eyes as your friends push to get inside—well Manny was pushing Abby out of the way making her scoff and grab him by the back of his pants, the threatening to give him a wedgy with a large smirk on her face as he screamed, trying to get away.

You heard Abby’s laugh and it calmed you for a second, to hear that your lover was happy made you happy. Which is way you felt all the more guilty as you feel the first tear fun down your cheek. You hiccup as your hand flew up to cover your mouth—trying to stop a cry from coming out. You stood still shaking as you close your eyes to try and will yourself off of that cliff of panic. Your breath picking up as you feel your stomach begin to ache from the sheer panic washing over your trembling form, you don’t wanna go in there, you would do anything else but go in there; you just couldn’t. There was way to many people for you to deal with right now.

You didn’t even realize it went quite, those loud voices being sealed behind the metal doors. You felt warm calloused hands rest on your arms gently, and a soft muffled voice. You looking up with tears sitting on your waterline, you could make out that familiar braid and hazel eyes, freckles cheeked that been kissed by the sun a little to much lately. “Baby?” Was all you needed to hear as the floodgates broke.

Abby quickly gathers you into her arms, wrapping one around your waist and the other went up to cradle the back of your head, as she gently rocks from side to side. Her lips resting on your temple as you cry out your anxiety into her shoulder, placing sweet kisses along your head. I’m here love, I’m here, she whispers. You throw your arms around her waist—clenching your hands into fist as you held onto her shirt.

Abby knew about your anxiety, hell she saw it last night, but she knew it went deeper then just everyday to day problems. She knew it kept you awake even when you had to be up at five in the morning, she knew it caused you to stay in your shared room because you just couldn’t leave it, because leaving your room made you feel physically sick sometimes—because your anxiety knew no bounds it seems.

Abby had a feeling it went deeper then just anxiety but she wasn’t sure, she’s talked to Nora about it but Nora wasn’t sure either, so together they watched over you. Nora would give you medicine to help calm you down but sometimes it wasn’t enough. Abby would hold you but you needed to be outside—even if it was eleven at night.

Over Abby’s shoulder you could see a blurry Nora standing back a little to give you room, you were thankful for that but you wanted comfort from your best friend as well, so you reach your arm out to her, she smiled and walked up next to you and began to rub your back, making your relax even more into Abby.

“I think you two should go eat lunch outside today, it’s a beautiful day anyways. Why waste it inside?”

You knew Nora was trying to make you feel better but you still felt so guilty for ruining the groups lunch.

“Yeah, we can go and just hang out, then maybe go visit the dogs?” Abby suggested.

They both have a habit of letting you tell them what’s wrong rather than pushing you to tell them—they found that pushing you makes you panic more. So they just make suggestions on how to get you out of your mind, anything that might help you relax and calm down.

You could hear them talking over you, not trying to exclude you—but trying to find out what to do next. “Should I give her some meds?”

“No, save them for an emergency.” You know what Abby was talking about. Just a month ago you had a panic attack so bad that it took Abby, Nora and Manny—who also knows about your anxiety, to calm you down. Three hours, before Nora decided it had gone on long enough and proceeded to push pills down your throat. You don’t know what she gave you but it knocked you out.

“I got this Nora, go eat.”

You felt more tears roll down your face as you felt Nora pat your back once more before walking away—those loud voices reaching your ears once more, making you tense. Abby running her hands up and down you back and the metal doors closed. She went to gently push you away just to see your face, but you held fast onto her. “Okay, okay pumpkin.” She said as she wrapped her arms around you again.

“Talk to me?” Abby whispered it so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

Pushing your face into her neck, you begin to explain your panicked mind to her—well tried too.

“I-I just can’t—there’s so many—and my tummy hurts—“Your breath picks up again.

“Shh—baby, take a few deep breaths, you’ll only make your tummy hurt more, think of your words.” Abby gently tried to pull you back from your mind.

You take a few deep breathes as you try and collect your thoughts, before shaking you head as more more tears fall. You hiccup as you lean against Abby’s strong frame, she was holding your weight like it was nothing.

“Okay, can you look at me please?”

She tried to look at you once more.

“Baby..” She said softly as you clanged onto her.

“Let me go get some food—don’t shake your head at me love, you need to try and eat something. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning, I know you didn’t.”

She was right, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning as she was gone and you were to scared to go into the cafeteria by yourself.

You sniff as you drag your hands down her toned waist, and before you were able to let her go, Abby was quick to grab you hands and lift them up to her lips, placing kisses on them; hearing you giggle a little she looked at you from under her blonde lashes with a smile and began to kiss up your arm. Placing kiss after kiss she got closer to your shoulder, making loud smooching sounds along the way. Letting out another laugh at her silliness, you felt tingles form on your arm were she had kissed. Finally getting to your shoulder she left a big wet kiss there before standing up straight.

Looking you in the eyes she traced her finger along your jaw line, she had stars in her eyes as she looked at you.

“I’ll be right back okay pumpkin.”

You nod as she walks away quickly and into the room of loud voices, leaving you standing in the dim hallway, all alone.

You felt that familiar surge of anticipation and fear run through your veins as you stood there. Wrapping one arm around your waist as you use your free hand to lick at you lips—a nasty habit Abby was trying to break you of, but you couldn’t help it. It brought you some form of strange relief. Tapping your foot to a silent rhythm only you could hear, you didn’t hear the doors open and close as you were once more in your head.

“Stop that, your gonna hurt yourself.”

You hear the voice of your angel call out and gently pull your hand away from your sore lips.

Looking up you see Abby’s stern face—though you knew you weren’t in trouble, she just didn’t like that little habit of yours as you have made your lips bleed before. Looking at your lips to make sure they were okay, she gave a sad sigh at what she saw and grabbed your hand.

“Come on baby, let’s go eat so we can play with the dogs afterwards yeah?” She said with a smile and pulled you towards her side, looping her arm around your shoulders and lead you both outside into the rays of the sun.

#abby anderson/reader #abby anderson #wlw #angst #comfort #tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson/you #abby anderson x you #abby x reader

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nyssaswitch · 5 months

Text

Pool Party with the Barca Boys

Chapter 5

Y/N’s POV

In the corner of my eye I saw Frenkie sneak out of the room, where we’d just been together.

The whole encounter had left me a little dehydrated and I could still feel his salty fluids on my lips. As I bent over to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, I felt Frenkie pressing up against me, whispering “are you gonna finish what you started”, in my ear.

I smirked and muttered “you’d like that wouldn’t you”, while walking away.

After downing my glass of water, I went back to the pool where the boys were, yet again, wrapped up in a heated game of pool football.

I lay down on a pool bed and put my sunglasses on.

In the background I could hear the boys being rowdy and smacking the ball every now and then.

I was basking in the sun and wasn’t complaining about the company I was with.

Smack.

The football crashed to the ground beside me with a powerful thud, its force reverberating through the air.

I lazily take off my shades, to see that Marc was the one responsible for sending the football my way.

“Is there a problem chica?”, he asks with a smirk.

“No not I all”, I say, while flinging the ball in his direction.

“What’s a girl gotta do for a bit of peace and quiet around here”, I sighed.

I’d been seated for a minute or so, when the ball flew in my direction, yet again. This time I saw that Héctor was the one who sent the ball in my direction.

He looked at me with sparkling eyes, when I threw the ball back at him.

I laid back on the bed, just for the ball to make its way to me, every five minutes or so. A different guy being the perpetrator each time.

“Guys, stop trying to get my sister’s attention, are we here to play ball, or to flirt?”

Chuckles could be heard from several directions, after Gavi had said what was on everyone’s mind.

“Or you could stop playing football for a minute, so that I could finally swim in the pool too”.

“Sure, come in”, João said.

I approached the pool and dipped one toe in, the guys looking at me expectantly.

“The water’s freezing, I don’t understand how you guys have been in the water for the last couple of hours”.

“I could keep you warm”, said João.

“Oh can you now”.

“You know what I think, someone just needs to throw you in”, said Héctor.

“Oh god”, I sighed.

Before I knew it, Héctor was standing behind me and had his arms wrapped around me.

“Aaah”, I let out a squeal of surprise, “let me go, you’re freezing!”

“Not unless you join us in the pool” he said.

I broke free from grasp, “not unless you can catch me” I yelled.

I lasted 20 meters, before Héctor appeared behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

We were standing right on the edge of the pool, when Héctor leaned over, leaving me to dangle over the pool.

“Oh my god”, I yelped, “stop” Héctor.

He pulled me back into his embrace.

Then pushed me forward, I felt my body leaping, thinking this would be the push that’d land me in the pool.

“Please Héctor, please please please, let me go, I don’t wanna get my hair wet.”

He lowered his voice and muttered “you like begging huh, what would you give, for me to not push you in the pool?”

“Anything, Héctor, please it took me four hours to get ready this morning.”

“Too bad”, he murmured, letting go of me and pushing me into the pool.

“Ahhh, nooo”, I yelped, as I felt myself falling.

That inconsiderate douchebag, guys will never understand how much time it takes us girls to get ready, especially if we’ve made an effort to get all dolled up.

I swam to the stairs and stormed off.

#héctor fort #marc guiu fanfic #hectorfortsmut #hectorfortfanfic #hectorfort x reader #marc guiu x reader #frenkiedejong fanfic #fcbarcelonafanfic #football imagine #gavi x reader #pedri x reader #joao felix x reader #gavi fanfic #pedri fanfic #joaocancelofanfic #pedri smut

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bxngthedoldrums · 1 year

Text

a petekey reading of so much (for) stardust

aka you knew i'd do this aka i didnt take four literature classes in college for nothing aka make sure your tinfoil hat is SECURED to your noggin aka dear lord forgive me for committing sins of petekey in the year of 2023

look. i have to do this or i don't deserve this blog. amen

~ love from the other side

okay. yea, immediately the "you were the sunshine of my lifetime" thing is sort of sus, because we all know pete wentz and anytime sun or summer is involved it's Something. this is solidified in "summer falling through our fingers again" in verse 2, but it's interesting that he uses "ours" in this lyric bc i feel like recently most of pete's summer lyrics have been pretty self-inflicted. it's impossible to not note the whole "inscribed like stone and faded by the rain" in the bridge v. "the tombstones were waiting" line in bang the doldrums. i shant even elaborate u can pick up what i'm laying down!

~ heartbreak feels so good

i think this song is pretty light on petekey imagery but "light from a screen of messages unsent" kinda reminds me of "some nights it gets so bad i almost pick up the phone" in ginasfs but i could be reaching for Sure. let's be real that's all i do

~ hold me like a grudge

honestly i think this is one of the worst petekey offenders on the album. this one had me gawking at my screen as i read the lyrics. "thaw out my freezer burn feelings for twenty summers" ??? be SERIOUS pete... "part-time soulmate, full-time problem" yeah I GET IT I GET IT !!! the whole thing reeks of 2005 summertime fling

~ fake out

"do you laugh about me whenever i leave?" bonkers ass line,,this reminds me of pete's lj writing in those years after 2005,,,"my mood board is just pictures of you, but i'm not sad anymore" YEAH. this is SO pete holy fuck. that classic wentz obsession,,"we did for futures that never came and for pasts that we're never gonna change" this line's got me on the fuckin FLOOR. also classic pete!!! his perchance for nostalgia is just insane and he really feels it huh

~ heaven, iowa

i dont even know how to get into this one. "kiss my cheek, baby, please/would you read my eulogy?" SICK and TWISTED evil!!! evil!!! "i will never ask you for anything except to dream sweet of me" jesus h christ the melancholy is off the charts but holy fuck this song is so,,,tender? i dont know wht to say but i know this was written w summer of love intention. i know this in my heart. "scar-crossed lovers, forever" OKAY I KNOW !!! this song is DEVASTATING verse 2 is fucked UP and the bridge is too!!! "closed my eyes inside your darkness and found your glow"???? i cantr og on

~ so good right now

i can't really discern any particularly petekey lyrics in this one right away but the whole "i cut myself down to be whatever you need me to be" is pretty fucking wild

~ i am my own muse

there's some really sad lyrics in this one ab the whole future-not-going-as-planned thing that comes up so frequently in pete's writing but honestly the whole "let's twist the knife again, twist the knife again like we did last summer" thing made my head explode. every lover's got a lil dagger in their hands!!!

~ flu game

im not gonna sit here and type out ths whole fucking song but oh my GOD bro. this song to me is a really nice callback to pete's older style of lyricism but that comes with the self-deprecation and all the other really sad shit. it's beautiful! it's horrible! i love it!!! its about mikey i cant even pul out a few lyrics just LISTEN

~ baby annihilation

another fucked up one that literally anyone else in fob should have vetoed but OKAY?? "time is luck and i wish ours overlapped more or for longer" MAN SHUT UP. "self sabotage at best, under your spell/but you know what they say, if you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself" ..........dude. if you're like me and you've poured over pete's oooold lj posts from the mid 2000s you already get it, but if you havent,,,go do it and get back to me bc this is TOO MUHC im unwell. "what is there between us if not a little annihilation?" i think i hauve covid

~ the kintsugi kid (ten years)

this song is really fucking sad actually. there's so much fear of being forgotten on this album and it's showcased really beautifully in this song,,,mayhaps not the most obviously petekey song but god damn

~ what a time to be alive

this song's about covid and quarantine n it's pretty easy on the whole suffering from a fling in 2005 thing! good job pete and fob

~ so much (for) stardust

this song is kinda suspicious but there's very few lines that really solidify it as a petekey song,,, altho "i think i've been going through it, and ive been putting your name through it" is a really interesting lyric. and OF COURSE, "in another life, you were my babe/in another life, you were the sunshine of my lifetime" happy xmas war is over

#petekey #had to do it to em #man what the FUCK goes on

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siobhanroygirl · 2 years

Text

finished ugly betty tonight i am completely normal and not in need of psychological help rn

thoughts under the cut

i am obviously so sad that everything was so rushed— the final episode felt like it could’ve been 10 episodes by betty standards AND I SOOOO wish it was. the betty and daniel slow romantic development would’ve been absolutely amazing to watch and its such a shame we never will get to see it, plus i think willie going back to connor was stupid and also no closure on tyler and clare BUUUUT that being said. despite it being horrifyingly rushed i literally think its the perfect ending

amanda reconciliation with her adoptive parents, finding her real dad, becoming a stylist and going single and ditching emotionally unavailable men (sidenote if we get a revival she should kiss more women)

marc getting an important promotion, dealing with the trauma of being rejected and abandoned by his mother for his sexuality, healing his inner child through justin and finding love-ish and recognizing his flaws

willie getting mode AS SHE FUCKING DESERVES!!!!! redemption arc, and she has marc by her side and everything is right❣️ wish we couldve seen a reconciliation with nico and renee though

hilda married and moving away from home finally! coming completely full circle from season 1 and losing santos. also wish we could see her working again maybe (i dont think we even know what bobby does for a living 😭)

justin having his times respected and understood, finding support in his family and marc. i love him so bad

ignacio happy and finally seeing his girls grown up and leaving home ❣️ i loved loved loved how he compared his journey as an immigrant and betty’s. this man is on the top 3 fictional fathers ever im sooo serious

daniel !!!!!! leaving mode !!!!! forgiving his mother, leaving behind stupid flings and trying to build his life on something HE worked on, changing completely from season 1, following betty, his heart. betty who saw everything that was wrong with him and still decided to stay and see the good 😭😭😭😭 then daniel calling her the sun, admiring her while also admitting he’s intimidated by her, protecting her, complimenting her, being a complete ass and realizing it AND CHANGING IT for her. realizing the way to love her is to let her go but not being able to look at her while doing it bc he cant if he does 😭😭😭😭 and then moving across the world to see her, going from boss to assistant with her who has changed him fundamentally and shown him what true love is i could actually die sorry the heterosexuals got me so bad with these two

betty following her dreams!!!!!!!!!!! betty working on something she’s truly passionate about!!!!!!! choosing what SHE WANTS INSTEAD OF TAKING CARE OF PEOPLE LIKE SHE ALWAYS DOES!!!! putting herself first!!!!!! being her own boss, standing up for herself, no more prioritizing others. leaving henry symbolizing that the old betty is gone, she loves who she was and she needed her to become this betty, but she’s different now. finding daniel when she’s changed but still the same in a way, still a spot in her heart for him 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 she will always have him back and she missed him 😭😭😭😭 she needs a new assistant 😭😭😭 IM GONNA KILL MYSELF

daniel and betty together in london as completely different people and in completely opposite positions from season 1 but still gravitating towards each other, reaching and finding each other in the midst of all this change because they know each other more than they know themselves like im sorry they are soulmates oh my god [dies a thousand deaths]

anyway i love this show so damn much jesus. with like 7 more episodes this ending could’ve developed so beautifully but im fr happy with how things turned out? ofc somethings i’d change like daniel burning the resignation form and calling her an “investment” (kind of makes sense in the context of the episode/arc because it was all about regressing to oldselves before changing but damn we didnt even get a proper apology from him, again probably for time reasons), but yeah in terms of where the characters should be @ this was honestly ideal to me.

i love this silly little problematic ass show and i never wanted it to end. betty is so dear to me and i will always carry her around inside of me my entire life, her bond with daniel is so special, wilhelmina is my queen and i live to serve her, marc and amanda are like my entire inner monologue at this point. ugly betty in general is so special to me and i never thought i would become so horribly attached to it. it was problematic as hell a lot of the times and handled others with so much love and care. it has so much heart. so, so much heart. i’ll love this show forever

#ugly betty #not opposed to a revival like AT ALL but so worried they are gonna ruin it #i feel like the characters are at a perfect place #the unfortunate thing is obviously the detty plot being rushed #but if you rewatch the entire show you’ll see how its just always been there ALWAYS #i love you betty i love you daniel i love you wilhelmina i love you marc amanda ignacio clare hilda justin bobby christina alexis #op

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formerlyjannafaye · 2 years

Note

Okay but do you ever get hit with random Feels from certain mileven scenes? Like the freaking scene of el being driven away in the prison van and mike just SENSES her, and then runs after it, desperately yelling at it to stop, her tears when she sees him, and his soft, anxious little “oh no’s” AHH. Their love! Damn the duffers for giving a us these soulmates. Haha sorry. In my feels. Alrighty. Gonna go fling myself into the sun now!

Omg, anon, YES!!!!! That scene is a heartbreaker! I am struck by how many times El has been taken from Mike, how many supernatural dangers have threatened to tear them apart, and then this: this very real world problem. One that El can’t fight her way out of. One that isn’t happening in Hawkins and Hopper isn’t there to fix. If Owens hadn’t of shown up, El was going to be…in jail?!? Alone?!? While Joyce was away and unreachable? It’s gutting. When Mike grabs the top of his head and just says, “oh no,” you just feel the absolute hopelessness of the situation. It’s one Mike couldn’t actually just get her out of. GAH.

Never mind the way he totally senses her in the van driving away. Like asdfgjjklsjshsha that is some SOULMATE SHIT RIGHT THERE. IM DECEASED.

But he promised to get her out, and HE DID. He never gave up on her (again!!! 😭) and drove all over kingdom come to find her and bring her home. He loves her so much, it’s everything she deserves and I hope they get their most happy ending! 😭🥰🥹

#OMG THANKS FOR SENDING ME THIS #PLEASE COME SCREAM IN MY INBOX ANYTIME #mileven #anon #asks

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bemhakkfnms · 2 years

Text

"Aren't we all sinners?"

∝bakugou X reader∝

~hunger games au~

~chp. 4 "help"~

≈This does not follow the anime story line and roughly follows the hunger games story line≈

‖summary: when Bakugou and y/n get chosen for the hunger games what will happen when they fight to the death.‖

TW: graphic depictions of extreme violence and gore.

"ROCKY" "fuck where are you" "ROCKY PLEASE" katsuki screams as loud as he can.

The attack was so sudden, 5 against 2 so unfair.

we ended up getting chased to a small river north of the cave we set up camp in.

Katsuki was able to fight off 3 of the attackers, mercilessly fighting for his life he wasn't able to keep track of y/n.

"please make this easy come here i dont want to hurt you" the tall redhead said as an attempt to coax me out of the tree i clung to. "no" is all my panicked brain can muster up to say.

Holding on to the tree about 5 feet off the ground i can feel my strength vanishing. 'fuck please dont give out yet' i think to myself.

"GET BACK" i scream swinging my legs all around like a monkey, fighting off the short brunette barreling toward me.

"cmon you gotta rest your arms sooner or later" the red head coos. "the fuck i do, you lanky bitch" i spit as i use the little bit if strength i have left, to lift my torso toward the bark of the tree and wrap my legs around the thick stump.

Letting go i hold myself with my legs, digging through the small bag i was able to snag from the cornucopia. "fuck where is it" I say out loud "haha so naive" the lanky bitch chuckles.

'finally' I grab the knife, and aimlessly fling it towards the red head as shes running toward me.

Closing my eyes as the knife made impact with her face. My heart heavy as i hear her wails and cries of pain.

Opening my eyes i see the look of horror and shock on the brunettes face. Rushing toward their friend "HELP ZACK I CANT SEE PLEASE" she screams the knife lodged in her eye socket.

"I- Im so sorry" i say as i fall from the tree a sharp pain in my side as i land on the hard rooted ground. The taste of guilt in my throat as i sob.

"HELP ME PLEASE" katsuki hears in the distance panic quickly engulfing his whole body.

"y/n" he whispers to himself, before sprinting in the direction of the cries.

"ROCKY WHERE ARE YOU, Y/N PLEASE" I hear katsuki in the distance "KATSUKI" i yell in reply.

"Y/N" I hear again closer than last. "KATSUKI PLEASE IM HERE" i yell as loud as i can out of breath from exhaustion.

"Rocky?" katsuki asks in an awful panicked voice meer feet away from where i laid on the ground.

"im gonna kill you" the brunette says determination dripping from his voice. Running full speed at me with a speer in hand, i duck and prepare for the attack.

Then..... nothing but a loud fall to the ground, and silence.

"what" i say as i open my eyes.

I see katsuki standing in front of my attacker, as he lays on the ground a tree limb lodged in his neck "bakugou" i say breathless in complete shock of the scene in front of me.

blood everywhere all over katsuki, the ground, the trees, me...

A blood curdling scream leaves my mouth, "FUCK PLEASE KATSUKI HELP THEM THEY'RE GOING TO DIE" i plead crawling to our victims. Holding onto the brunettes head i try to stop the bleeding.

"please" i sob as katsuki tears me away from the bloodied man. "we have to go rocky" he quietly yet sternly says dragging me back into the woods.

Silence engulfed the woods as the sun started to set, eery fog overtaking the trees as we run trying to find a place to hide.

Screams of pain, and cries for help coming from all directions.

"im sorry i freaked back there" i say as we slow to a walk, guilt fogging my brain.

"shut up"

"what" i say dumbfounded, "katsuki im sorry"

"shut. Up." he demands

"oh okay so i can't apologize now kat-"

"shh" he shushes me his hand over my mouth.

"hmmm" i mutter against his hand looking in his eyes confused.

He brings his finger to his pursed lips telling me to be quiet.

He points left of us, 'oh shit'

(authors note)

Lmao sorry i died for awhile life sucks 😘

I have covid and am very bored so expect lots of posts 🤭

#katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #fantasy bakugou x reader #pro hero bakugou

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artificialqueens · 2 years

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💎 I'd Love it if We Made it, Beach Scene (Lemyanka) - Mar

A/N: I really want the baby blue filled out in the flag, and I have a beach fic from the Jankie parenthood au that's just not cooperating, so instead I got this from the vault. It has been a draft since december 2020. It's the start of chapter 2 of a beach town au that I adore, but I haven't posted because I can't bring myself to finish it. It's fitting that these challenges would be the thing to bring it back to life. If you want to read the first part, it's on ao3. If you don't want to read all that, just know that Priyanka lives in a dead beach town, and is jolted out of her years-long depressive episode when Lemon arrives with her family one October day. Highly recommend to read this with ocean sounds in the background.

It’s clear that the heat is not going anywhere, so Priyanka decides to make hay while the sun shines and invite Lemon to spend the morning at the beach. Armed with sunblock, food, and all the magazines she “borrowed” from the store, she waits for Lemon at the agreed middle point between their houses.

It’s early. Priyanka rests her body on a wall with crackling paint, that sheds with her touch. Sunlight crests over the rooftops and fills up the streets, pools at her feet. She feels it climb up her legs and warm her up, melting the last dregs of sleep from her mind. She stretches and her bones crack loudly in the empty block. So early.

There’s a different silence from the dead town quiet she’s accustomed to, somehow peaceful, just the world yawning and waking up. It has been a long time since she got up with the sun.

Across the street, Lemon waves.

While she crosses, Priyanka has ten full seconds to panic over kissing Lemon hello, like they’re dating, which they aren’t, or kissing her cheek like they’re platonic friends, which they also aren’t. She flips through her mental catalog of previous summer flings and ponders what the correct move is, if there even is one, and when did she get so out of practice? Before she can make a call, she’s shrouded in perfume and sunscreen.

“Hey, doll.” Lemon takes her chin and brings her face down to kiss her lips. Simple as that.

Priyanka’s eyes travel from her own surprise reflected on Lemon’s sunglasses, trail down over her smug expression and her bare shoulders, and land on the barely there scraps of fabric that make up Lemon’s bikini top. Her mouth dries and her mind wanders, but there’s pressing matters at hand.

“Why are you wearing that?”

Lemon huffs and pulls her sunglasses on top of her head.

“I feel like you’re not being grateful enough for how hot I look,” she says, striking a pose. “Wanna try again?”

Priyanka laughs and brings her in by the waist for another kiss.

“My bad, princess. Hi, you look very hot, also, why are you in a bikini? I told you to bring a one piece.” Although it’s hard to remember why now, with her thumbs stroking the skin of Lemon’s waist.

“I don’t have a one piece,” Lemon shrugs and starts walking towards the beach. “Plus, I’m not that white, and I have sunscreen,” she says, jostling the tote bag on her shoulder.

“It’s less about the sun and more about the fact that it is eight in the morning in October. You’re gonna freeze in that.”

“I won’t swim, then.”

“No, you have to!” Priyanka yells, horrified. “You have to swim, that’s the whole point of going. Also, you need to get your head underwater every now and then, or you could get a heatstroke.”

“So will I freeze or get a heatstroke? Pick a lane.”

“Could be both,” Priyanka says, grinning. “The beach is a magical place.”

“Ugh, why are we even going?” Lemon whines.

“Because it’s magical, Lemon. Keep up.”

“Hm, sorry, you look hot, it’s very distracting,” Lemons says, giving her a very obvious once-over.

Priyanka’s steps falter. She knows Lemon’s not trying to get a reaction out of her, she just throws compliments like they’re nothing and moves on, but they cling to Priyanka’s skin with varying effects. Right now, it makes her feel self-conscious. The air is dense and hot, and she’s been feeling sweat prickle at her skin since she left the house, so her shirt ended in her bag and now there’s just a tight blue swimsuit covering her stomach. On instinct, she goes to cross her arms over it, but Lemon takes her hand and doesn’t let go.

It’s fine, Priyanka thinks. You’re fine. The beach’s probably empty.

She’s proven right minutes later, when they look upon the vast expanse of sand, only broken by a small group of people far off. Priyanka takes her time to find a place close to the water but still high enough that they won’t need to move once the tide rises. They’re spoiled for choice, but once they find a spot, Lemon still throws down her bag like she’s staking her claim on that little patch of sand, forcefully enough to scare off the other four people on the whole beach.

“Fuck, should we have brought an umbrella?” Lemon asks, looking at the sun.

“Aha!” Priyanka exclaims, showing Lemon the circular flat bag on her shoulder, which she had to dig out of the closet and dust off the previous night.

“What’s that?”

“The future.” Priyanka unzips the bag and pulls out its content of folded fabric in black and green, and then throws it to the air. The thing unfolds with a loud thwap! and lands gracefully on the sand. Priyanka makes jazz hands at their newly formed little shelter. “Pop-up tent!”

“I appreciate the theatrics,” Lemon smiles with approval. They set their bags inside on the corners to weigh the tent down, and then Lemon crawls in.

“Take off your shoes, you savage,” Priyanka chastises her, following her inside. “You’re getting sand everywhere.”

“This is literally the beach,” Lemon protests, but she still helps her brush out the sand.

The cold breeze stops them from braving the water just yet, but they have the whole morning ahead. For now, Priyanka opens her backpack and spreads out a full picnic on the floor. She cracks open two water bottles as Lemon slices her way into a packet of cookies with her acrylic nail, and Priyanka is so hypnotized by the movement that she doesn’t notice she’s crushing the bottles until cold water spills on her lap and startles her out of the reverie. She dries herself off while Lemon laughs in the background.

Jerk.

They sit half outside the tent and bury their feet in the sand, not hot enough to burn them yet. With sleepy brains catching up to the day, they plan their morning in vague terms until their voices fizzle out, swallowed by the crashing waves. Priyanka follows their movement, entranced, munching on one cookie after the other until her hand reaches for a third one and finds the crinkle of an empty packet. She turns and finds Lemon with puffed cheeks and crumbs on her lips, looking like a deer in the headlights. She has the decency to say a meek “sorry” through a mouthful of cookies. Priyanka retaliates by grabbing the bunch of grapes she packed and declaring Lemon cannot have a single one. She just shrugs and takes a peach instead.

The sun rises lazily and warms their morning. Voices turn to whispers and silences stretch like honey, slow and mellow. Priyanka leans back on her elbows, head lolled to the side to look at Lemon. She sees her bite into the peach and watches as juice dribbles down her chin and neck, marking a path that Priyanka wants to trace with her tongue. She throws a napkin at Lemon’s face instead.

Eventually, the air inside the tent gets heady enough to make them want to leave it.

“We can go swimming now, if you think you can handle it.”

It’s presented as a challenge, and Lemon takes it as one. She gives Priyanka a hard stare and takes off her hoop earrings, then her dozens of bracelets and rings. Taking Priyanka’s hand, she leads them to the water and her confident stride only wavers where the sea meets the sand.

A wave reaches their feet and makes Lemon hiss. It is cold, even for Priyanka now that she’s lost the habit, but pride makes her bite her tongue. She takes a big step forward only to be stopped by the shoulder because Lemon won’t budge an inch and they’re still holding hands.

“Lem? You can’t swim in the sand, girl.”

“I’m coming, it’s just so cold.”

Lemon takes a deep breath and the tiniest step. Moving to stand in front of her, Priyanka takes both of her hands and pulls her in slowly.

“It gets easier. I promise.”

Lemon looks over Priyanka’s shoulder and gives her a small nod. She follows Priyanka’s lead, gritting her teeth the whole time. Step by step, they get up to their thighs in water before the first wave hits and splashes their stomachs.

“Motherfucker!” Lemon yelps and leaps forward, clutching to Priyanka’s warmth.

Priyanka does a poor job of hiding her laughter, and she feels Lemon smile against her collarbone and mouth a “fuck off” through chattering teeth. As much as she wants to wrap her arms around Lemon to fend off the cold, she knows they will never get over it until they go underwater. Gently, she pries Lemon off her chest and rubs her arms.

“Come on, I’ll have you swimming like a pro in no time. We have to go underwater, okay?”

Lemon nods resolutely and straightens her spine.

“Okay—” she flinches as another wave hits them. “Tell me what to do.”

“Lock your knees,” Priyanka instructs, pressing down on Lemons’ shoulders like she’s planting her in the sand. She stands by her side and digs her heels in, firm against the ocean trying to push them away. “Keep your eyes on the water. And when a wave starts to form, we dive under. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Lemon almost manages to hide the fear in her voice. She stands firm and furrows her brow with focus.

“No matter what, keep swimming forward and find me on the other side. Here comes one!”

Priyanka watches the massive wave rise in front of them. With held breath, they trudge through the water and dive under.

Water rushes past her ears. Every sound echoes and dissorients her before she can open her eyes and find the ground. She kicks with all her might and digs her nails in the sand to crawl forward. Bubbles surge up past her cheeks as the air leaves her. Another wave grazes the top of her head and pushes her back but she holds her ground, her lungs burn but she has to keep going, going, going, she closes her eyes and kicks wildly until she can’t take it anymore and has to swim up.

Priyanka breaks the surface with a triumphant jump, damp hair slapping against her back with the movement. Air floods her lungs and burns on the way down, but she looks back and sees she left the waves crashing behind. She made it, and around her there is only tranquil blue. This, however, means no Lemon to be found. Priyanka doesn’t get much time to worry before a flash of yellow surfaces in front of her, splashing water everywhere.

Lemon throws her arms around Priyanka’s neck and kisses her soundly, filling her mouth with the taste of salt water. When she pulls back, she’s grinning.

“Again, again!”

Once the adrenaline dies down, the cold makes itself known again, so they paddle around to warm up. Priyanka keeps a watchful eye on the shore to make sure they don’t float too far away. She recognized the lifeguard on duty and she knows that, if things go awry, there’s a better chance of a tsunami returning them to the shore than of the guy even noticing they are drowning.

“Hey, try to hear what I’m saying underwater,” Lemon says before sinking. Priyanka follows her and listens closely, then goes up and shakes the water off her face.

“You said ‘Gritty’ something. Gritty rhizomes?”

“Not even close.”

They try again, and this time Priyanka’s really sure of her answer.

“Ryan the shittiest psychic!”

“No!” Lemon laughs. “I said I am the prettiest princess.”

“Oh my God,” Priyanka rolls her eyes. “My turn.”

They go underwater, and Lemon comes up looking really offended.

“Did you just call me ugly?”

“Wow, you’re really good at this game.”

Lemon climbs over Priyanka and tries to dunk her head underwater.

“Ow, ow, okay, truce!” she splutters. “No roughhousing in the ocean!”

“Fine,” Lemon concedes, and settles instead for hanging from Priyanka’s back with her chin on her shoulder.

They swim around like that while Priyanka finds a spot where she can touch the ground, Lemon trailing behind from her neck like a wedding veil. Sometimes, Lemon kisses her skin, and the contrasting warmth makes Priyanka shiver. In the distance, scattered boats sail by and she tries to remember what the acronyms on their sides mean to answer Lemon’s questions.

It’s quiet again. White light crackles on the surface of the water, shimmering and blinding. Smooth waves roll beneath them and flip them on their backs. They float under the sun, feeling the ocean rise below them, lifting them up and setting them down gently. Above, the sky is a perfect blue.

Priyanka stares at the sun until her vision is all white spots. She could doze off. Lemon drifted out of her sight. It feels like she is the only person on Earth.

“Otters hold hands when they sleep.”

The words bubble up so quietly, Lemon may not even hear her. She is mostly talking to the sky.

“Hm?” Lemon’s voice is so far, so far, she may be across the Atlantic.

“When they sleep in the water, otters hold hands.” Her chest struggles to rise and fall with the words. It’s so tiring to speak. “So they don’t drift apart.”

Light is filtering through her closed eyelids, making them burn.

Across the Atlantic, Lemon reaches over and grazes her arm.

“Do you want to hold hands? So we don’t drift?”

Priyanka doesn’t answer.

Lemon takes her hand.

__________________________________________________________________

Before noon, once the sun gets too high and too strong, Priyanka says they have to get out. Lemon protests, but Priyanka sees the red blooming on her cheeks and knows sunburn is not far off. She starts walking to shore, dragging a floating Lemon behind her by the wrist.

Getting out is an ordeal. The ocean is hell bent on keeping them, and although Priyanka is used to it, she sees Lemon panic every time the water recedes from the shore and pulls them back in. Still, she doesn’t complain. She grits her teeth and swims against the current under Priyanka’s guidance. It takes them time and muscle and when they finally get out, they flop down on the sand, tired and relieved. Priyanka feels rocks digging into her stomach, but she can’t be bothered to move. Lemon is smiling at her, with drops of water trailing down her chin and her nose, and sunlight painting her blonde hair until it blends with the sand.

They don’t speak, just try to catch their breath as the sun dries them. The sea still reaches for them, getting up to their knees before going back in. Priyanka feels heavy like lead, and would probably sink in the sand if Lemon didn’t say she was hungry.

As they towel off their hair, Priyanka lists all the restaurants around them. They end up getting food to go from the nearest bar right there on the beach, paired with tall plastic glasses of juice that Priyanka buries halfway in the sand by their tent.

“Think of the beach as a giant cup holder.”

They finish their food over spread out magazines, flipping through the articles and doing every stupid quizz.

(Are you a commitment-phobe? Does your BFF secretly hate you? What is the right summer haircut for you?)

Lemon paints her lips with peach flavored chapstick. Priyanka’s eyes wander away from her magazine and suddenly her mouth is so dry.

“Can I borrow that?”

Lemon hands her the chapstick, Priyanka applies it and wiggles her eyebrows.

“It’s like we’re kissing.”

Lemon rolls her eyes but still straddles Priyanka, lays her down in the sand and kisses her slow and deep. Priyanka feels heat flow up from her stomach all the way to her head, like water, it feels like it’s gonna drown her and she lets it.

Once dry, Priyanka’s hair is a mass of waves that Lemon can’t stop complimenting and threading her fingers through, teasing it from side to side, fascinated. Priyanka keeps her hands firmly on Lemon’s waist and holds the impulse to push her away.

The air gets a little heavy, but never to the point of real summer middays. In a very muted, distant way, Priyanka wonders if Lemon will come back next summer and get the real beach-town experience. Everything’s more lively with more people milling around, and Lemon would fit right in with the crowd of pretty, young people, there for a good time and gone before you notice.

“So,” Priyanka says, slurping the last of her drink. “Why did you come to a beach in October?”

“Oh, my mom was swamped with work all summer. She practically runs her company now that her boss is retiring, so she couldn’t get away until now. It’s not ideal, but we take these yearly vacations very seriously.” She tears open a pack of Twizzlers. “Except Janice, apparently, ‘cause she’s too grown and in love to come join us,” she says petulantly, ripping the Twizzler in half with her teeth.

“The sister that bailed on you?” Priyanka says, taking the bag for herself.

“The bitch herself. She's going into year two of the honeymoon phase and shows no sign of getting any less gross, and I’m the one who has to deal with the consequences.”

“Aww, Lemon, are you jealous?” Priyanka teases, poking Lemon’s stomach.

“Pff, no,” Lemon says, squirming away. “I’m not jealous of Jaqueline, with her stupid museum curator title and her stupid fundraisers and her stupid outfits taken straight from the sixties—” She sees Priyanka’s raised eyebrow. “I’m not jealous, okay? I just think I was in Jan’s life first and I deserve at least as much attention!”

Priyanka laughs at her childishness, but still wraps her arm around Lemon’s shoulders.

“I’ll pay attention to you.”

Watching the rise and fall of the waves, both girls enter a silent trance. The tide has been rising steadily since they got there, and Priyanka realizes she miscalculated their spot, so they will have to move back the tent if they don’t want it to get wet. The mistake bruises her pride a little. She hasn’t been to the beach in too long.

She turns to inform Lemon of this when the girl’s phone chimes. Priyanka is polite and looks away, taking back her arm so Lemon can text comfortably. Without much expectation, Priyanka checks her own phone and sees no messages. She does, however, notice the time, and knows she needs to run home if she wants to shower before work.

She apologizes to Lemon as they rush to pack everything, but Lemon dismisses her. She had fun, she needs a nap anyways, which is backed up by how she yawns as they trudge up the sand hill, dragging all their belongings. They part near Priyanka’s house with salt kisses and promises of talking later.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #can1 #priyanka #lemon #lemon x priyanka #beach day #lesbian au #fic challenge #pride 2022 #mar #concrit welcome

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