#THERE ARE STILL PEOPLE MISSING DAYS LATER.

[palephilosopherautomaton]

Title: "She’s Still Smiling"

You didn’t mean to take the photo.

It was one of those throwaway shots—angled wrong, the lighting off, your hand blurred in motion. You were trying to capture the skyline from your apartment window, hoping to snag a fleeting sunset that bled down the buildings like a fresh wound.

But when you checked your phone later, she was there.

Her.

The background. Blurred, but unmistakable. Standing on the other side of the street. Tilted head, black coat, that faint curve of her lips—the smile she wore when she wanted to be unreadable. The smile she had in her casket.

You freeze. Your breath won’t work right.

Because this time, there’s no denying it. No quick rationalization. No shrugging it off as a shadow, a trick of the light, another hallucination borne of sleepless nights and too much wine.

This time, she’s in the picture.

You pull up the photo again and zoom in. Pixelated, grainy. But it’s her. Emily. Her posture. Her face. That scar on her chin she hated so much. Her eyes. They aren’t looking at the street. They’re looking right at you.

You check the date stamp. Two hours ago.

She’s dead. You know she is. You saw the body, touched her cold hand. You stood in the front row while the casket lowered into the ground. Dirt hit wood. People cried. You cried.

But now she's here. Walking around. Watching.

You flip through your other photos.

Wait.

In one from last week—taken outside a coffee shop—she’s there too. Reflected in the glass. Just a blur you missed before, tucked behind a couple laughing. She’s closer to the camera this time.

Your fingers tremble.

You open your laptop. Load the security camera footage from the building entrance. She’s there. Plain as day. Standing just outside the lobby doors at 3:21 a.m., staring into the lens.

Smiling.

You hadn’t left the building that night. But someone buzzed her in. Your hand flies to your mouth.

You dreamed about the buzzer. Loud. Jarring. Woke you up at 3:22 a.m. But you didn't get out of bed. You thought it was a false alarm. A glitch.

You check the log. Buzzer pressed: Unit 7C Access granted: Unit 7C

That’s your unit.

Your chest tightens. You can hear the hum of your refrigerator, the faint tapping of a tree branch against the window, the creaking of the pipes—every little sound suddenly louder, closer.

Then—

Another sound. Footsteps. Upstairs.

You live alone.

You grab your phone. Call someone. Anyone.

But before you can press a button, the phone vibrates.

New photo received.

From an unknown number. You open it.

It’s a photo of you. Right now. Sitting on the couch, holding your phone.

She’s in the background. Closer this time. Her smile wider. Your bedroom door slightly ajar behind her.

And now…

Now you can hear it.

The door creaking open.

She's dead. YOU KNOW she's dead; you saw her body at the funeral. When you kept seeing her everywhere, you chalked it up to grief. But this time, you have photo evidence. That’s definitely her.

[alchemistc]

Robbie slaps a glossy looking flyer on the table. Palm down, eyes narrowed, pretending like hell the slap of her hand against the wood grain didn't sting as she squares up, all four-feet-three-inches of her, like she's preparing for battle.

Tommy's slumped in his chair and still half a head taller than her.

He doesn't quite cower, at her glare, but at thirteen she's just about ready to explode at any given moment.

They don't talk about the time he sat on the floor with the bathroom door at his back and read the instructions for inserting a tampon in the calm, cool tones of a man so far out of his depth he might as well have turned into pressurized meat juice mist while Robbie had a panic attack just inside.

They don't talk about the massive argument they'd had in the middle of TJ's the first time Robbie back talked Evan with all the angst of a girl about to experience the pimpliest, testosterone fueled ragiest few years of her life. (Evan had gotten a kick out of it and Tommy had spent a week listening to his deep dives into the Beauty Of Puberty with the skepticism of an only child who never shared a bathroom).

Robbie rolls her jaw. Grabs the flyer and shakes it in Tommy's face. It's a riot of color, and Tommy has to squint to make out the words. Fuck, he does need those reading glasses.

"Why is the paper making you look homicidal?"

"We never go to Pride, dad!"

Ah.

Well.

That.

Tommy slumps further in his seat, which puts Robbie at eye level, and boy howdy is she gonna make his life a living hell until the hormones settle in...a decade or so. The glare is all Evan, emotions unchecked and just out there for the world to see. He's so fucking grateful neither of his kids took to his 'repress until you pancake yourself' way of handling a single emotion.

Tommy never bought into the rainbow crap, couldn't ever push himself into participating in a world he'd denied himself so long. Nothing against it, himself, just - a line he kept somewhere off behind and to the left where he couldn't look it in the eye.

And Evan...

Well. Being an 'ally' switched to throwing up the Bi Flag in his Instagram profile and he never really shifted any further than that.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Tommy asks, because last week she'd spent an hour in the yard yanking weeds with the ferociousness of a terrier with a nest of rats over some kid in her class named Michael and to this point hasn't shown that her interests stray farther than that. Fuck. Has he missed something?

"Uh, yeah, that my gay dads are quiet homophobes who won't take their kids to a fuckin' parade."

Oh well that's a lot of different things to put in check, right there.

It's his own damn fault for laughing hysterically every time their toddler dropped an F bomb.

It's his own damn fault for blowing off the drag queens with petitions outside the library a month ago.

"Your father is a Kinsey two-and-a-half on a good day, and don't say fuck."

"Internalized homophobia is still homophobia, dad." She rolls her tongue over her teeth. Sends him a challenging look. "Fuck." She pronounces it like it has seven syllables.

"If you're gonna challenge me you better be able to use it in a sentence properly."

"I want to fucking go to fucking Pride with my fucked up not straight dads but they're both fucking repressed fucking losers."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Tommy jokes, and the flyer crumples in his daughters fist. And - yep, there's the shriek.

Evan's gonna be pissed that he isn't curbing the language a little more.

Which he absolutely will do. Later. Once Robbie isn't a good leap away from the knife block.

His kids aren't violent people, by nature. Robbie has a mean left hook and an eye for taking people out at the ankles he encouraged far too much before she hit ten. Danny cradles spiders in the cup of his hands on the way out the door while giving Tommy a wide-eyed and judgemental berth.

Robbie crumples up the flyer a little more. Stares at him like she's wishing there was enough weight to it to cause damage to his thick fucking skull if she were to throw it.

She blinks, and those are - yep, those are tears.

"Sweetheart," Tommy starts, and Robbie launches herself forward, embraces Tommy just in time for some sobs to really kick in, nonsensical phrases leaking out of her as she cries, and cries, and cries.

He's good at this part. The part where they can't see his face, where he can cradle them to him and rub their back and murmur nonsense back while they do a better job feeling, and then regulating their emotions than he had until his late thirties.

"Ms. Frankie said she'd take me but I don't wanna go with Ms. Frankie," he gets, as another wave breaks, and he has to shift his weight against the onslaught of two sharp ass knees heading straight for his belly. "Ms. Frankie has a crush on Dad and I hate her."

Ms. Frankie absolutely has the hots for Evan. Ms. Frankie's son is a bully who thinks he's better than everyone else by virtue of accepting and picking on everyone equal-opportunity style.

Ms. Frankie is definitely not taking his kid to her first Pride.

Shit.

God damnit.

The tears dry up, eventually.

Tommy tries not to think about the fact that he's not gonna be allowed to comfort his pre-teen like this for much longer. Tries not to think about the fact that she's gonna stop asking for it, soon enough, and he'll have to make do with words from the other side of a slammed door.

"I'm not wearing rainbow anything," he says, like he's surrendering a crucial air base, and Robbie leans back with narrowed eyes.

"I have that face paint Jee gave me for Christmas."

"You get one cheek to work with," he negotiates, even though he's well aware he's gonna leave the house with more color than he's worn in twenty-five years.

"Dad let me do his whole face for New Years," she wheedles.

"Dad has better coloring than I do. Those jewel tones make his eyes pop. And Dad doesn't have to know how many times you dropped an F-bomb on me ten minutes ago."

He's fucking up his kids. Teaching an almost teenager how to properly blackmail someone is just one of many ways he's doing it while he digs his own grave.

At least they're not fucking scared of him.

"Two cheeks, and we post a picture on Dad's Insta because Ms. Frankie stalks him there and she'll be so jealous."

"You're diabolical," Tommy tells her, and her wet, snotty, lopsided grin makes something in his heart swoop. She's all Evan, and he loves her so fucking much he stopped trying to figure out where to put it the first time she latched a tiny little hand around his pointer finger and burst into the exhausted tears of something new to this world. "If you ever teach Danny how to manipulate someone like this I'm gonna start reporting you for war crimes."

"Danny's too nice, it would hurt his feelings to even think about it."

Yeah. Not sure where the fuck he got that from.

"You watch out for him, don't you?"

He's aware there's a dynamic at play here that he shouldn't overly encourage. Doesn't want her feeling like she's gotta parent her younger brother, it's just -

"He doesn't need it. Sometimes when he says nice things to people I think he destroys their whole world for a few days."

Tommy takes her out for ice cream and broaches the subject of the parade before Evan realizes Tommy's spoiled her dinner.

Danny's eyes go bright and gleaming and he sends a look at his sister that Tommy is absolutely certain he should be worried about, because they've clearly been plotting and scheming for days.

When June sixth rolls around Danny wakes up early, pounces on the bed, and hands Tommy the ugliest fucking shirt Tommy's ever seen, bright and lurid and awful, and Robbie doesn't even have the decency to hide her smug look when she stumbles blearily into the kitchen, following the smell of scrambled eggs Tommy spends an extra ten minutes dyeing with the organic shit Evan brought home last week.

[kooklovee]

Yours for a year - JJK

PROLOGUE

One year, one contract, one fake marriage. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.8k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be only when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

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

Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—also married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love, was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

Love, to you, was about ease.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It’s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

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

[zerosomnia]

Thunderbolts John Walker x Reader Scenario: Napping together

Summary: When John naps, you also have to nap. He is the kind of guy that will pick you up and take you with him, regardless of what you're doing. He’d never admit it, but he just can’t fall asleep without you by his side.

Author's Note: I'm probably going to do these scenarios based on my own headcanons with the other characters at some point, but I just had such a clear image of John doing this that I had to get it out. I hope it scratches other people's brains in the same way it did mine.

Word count: 1208

John Walker was a military man, through and through. Routine was his bread and butter. He couldn’t function without it. This meant that he wasn’t the type to nap often, his days were preplanned and rigid, there was little room for the luxury of a nap. That was, until you came along.

With you came space, room to breathe – permission to just be. And that was where John was introduced to the wonder of napping. He, however, was particular about his naps. And not in the ‘I must be in a bed, with the pillows at the right angle and this specific temperature’ kind of way. No. He was a simple man, and he had one, very specific, requirement for his naps. You.

That was precisely why he was awake, despite the irritating prickle of sleep pinching at the corners of his eyes. You weren’t here. In fact, you weren’t just missing, you were late. You had promised to be back by 2 PM, which is why Walker sat on the common room couch at 2:15, staring at the lift like he was trying to will you into existence behind its doors.

It must have worked, because soon the elevator dinged and you glided into the room, mid-laugh as you bantered back and forth with Bob.  You both wandered towards the minibar, placing the stack of books you had bought down on the countertop. Your conversation was lively and bubbly, and you continued like you hadn’t even seen Walker in the room. He rose from the couch, wandering over to wrap his arms around your midsection and rest his chin on your shoulder. You acknowledged him by rubbing his forearm, never breaking away from your conversation – that wasn’t what he wanted.

Bob awkwardly shifted, still enjoying your conversation but struggling not to stare at the unusual sight of a cuddly John Walker. Especially when said John Walker was staring him down with such a fire in his eyes that Bob thought he was willing him to combust.

Eventually, John tired of not being the focus of your attention – and his subtle hints were not working. He had tried gently running his fingers down your arm, with hopes of interlacing your fingers and leading you away but was brushed off so that you could act a statement out using rapid hand gestures. Utterances of your name fell on deaf ears, and deep sighs with puppy dog eyes were ignored.

 You were so frustrating, couldn’t you see that he was tired? He let go of you, not that the action affected you. You kept nattering on – intent on discussing a plot twist in your favourite book with Bob, who was nodding earnestly at every shocking reveal. Walker returned to glaring at Bob, fists clenched and jaw set, hoping that if he could remove the obstacle, then you would return your focus to him. Bob, of course, did nothing except stare back with wide eyes.

Goddammit.

Walker rubbed his face, a tired sigh escaping him. Drastic measures were going to be required. He positioned himself next to you and bent down to wrap his arms around your waist.

“John, what are you – oof!” A shriek escaped you as he picked you up, tossing your body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You smacked his back in protest. “Bob! Help me!” Bob looked at your grabby hands, starting to move towards you. But one sideways glare from Walker was all it took, and he backed down, arms held up in submission.

“Sorry,” Bob chuckled. John walked you both into the lift, leaving your books scattered about in the common room – you could sort them later.

“I was in the middle of a conversation, John.” Your voice was matter-of-fact but not angry.

“It’s nap time.” You could hear the edge in his voice, how tiredness knawed at the corners of his words. So, you quietened and stared at the wall. Once you reached the living quarters, John beelined past his own door to your room.

See, John didn’t just want to be with you when he napped. He wanted to be surrounded by you, enveloped in your scent, in your warmth. And your room, well, that was just an extension of you.

He knew your door code, of course he did. He had memorised everything about you, meticulously, as if he was going to be tested on it. Because that was just the type of man he was.

Once you were both hidden in the privacy of your room, he placed you gently on the bed. When you tried to get up, he softly pushed you back down. An order without a statement. Stay. You obeyed, watching as he closed your curtains over and found your softest pair of pyjamas. He handed them to you before he pulled his own shirt up over his head. You ogled him, the taught stretch of his muscles as he removed his clothes, stripping down into his underwear. He was a well-built man, with wide shoulders and big arms that allowed him to toss you around like a ragdoll. Yet he was always surprisingly delicate with you, like he’d break you in an instant if he didn’t restrain himself. You followed his lead and changed into your pyjamas, then you scooted back onto your side of the bed, lifting the covers invitingly to him with a warm smile.

John clambered in, body sluggish and slow with fatigue. His head found purchase on your chest, and a low rumble of content could be heard from him as he wrapped an arm around you. His hair tickled at your chin as he settled, and his leg was slung over your thighs; you were effectively pinned. You didn’t mind, though; instead, a comfortable sigh left you while you reached up to run your hands through his hair. You scratched your nails gently across his scalp and down the back of his neck, feeling the muscles of his toned back before you traced your fingers back upwards to repeat the action in a soothing, cyclical fashion. All of his muscles relaxed, like he was a spring that had just uncoiled.

“Can you talk to me… like tell me about your day or something? I like hearing your voice.” His volume was low, like every syllable was a massive effort. You felt a smile rise to your cheeks. You kept your own voice quiet and lilted as you started to tell him about your morning shopping trip. How you had nearly missed your bus to the shopping centre, how Bob had been too polite to escape someone handing out brochures and had gotten stuck talking to them for well over 20 minutes, how you had bought a bullet journal because it had reminded you of him and his routines. You kept talking, even though you had noticed the way his breath slowed barely two minutes in, and the way that his weight had increased like all the resistance had left his body. You stopped, enjoying the feeling of your human weighted blanket. Exhaustion tugged heavily at your eyelids and your vision went hazy. One final thought stood out as you also succumbed to the depths of sleep.

God, you loved nap time.

[wcnderlnds]

dizzy [ part five ] ★ choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: tudum finally arrives and you couldn’t be more proud of seunghyun. your final night in la ends up being your favourite but when you get back home, you find out something that’ll change both your lives. ・❥・word count: 2.9k ・❥・warnings: 18+, mdni. unprotected p in v, soft sex, swearing, pregnancy. ・❥・ authors note: and we’ve reached the end <3 thank you guys for sticking with me through this fun little seunghyun week. i’ve had so much fun writing this. it’s the first series i’ve ever actually finished too!! i also gave up proofreading halfway though bc its late so forgive any mistakes. love u all!!

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

Today was going to be the busiest day of the week. Tudum was a massive event – so much planning went into it so every part of it had to be perfect. Seunghyun had left early again to go check out the venue and get a walkthrough of how everything was going to go later that night. You knew you probably wouldn’t get to see him much until the event was done. It made you a little sad that you couldn’t be by his side for this one but you’d be there regardless, supporting him in whatever way you could. Seunghyun could handle this one alone. He had shown so much growth and confidence over the last few days alone. It was like a permanent smile was etched on his face now which in turn made you so damn happy. This was his moment, his time and while it was long overdue, you were so glad it was finally happening for him. So many more doors would be opened for him, the opportunities he’d lost out on before would come pouring in, you just knew it.

While Seunghyun was busy working, you had decided to treat yourself to a little wander around downtown LA. It wasn’t the same without your husband by your side but you still had fun. You visited one of the best bakeries in town, sending a photo to Seunghyun as you took a bite out of the cupcake you’d bought. Next, you did a little bit of clothes shopping, finding the perfect dress for tonight. Once again, you sent a photo to Seunghyun as you tried it on. This time he replied almost instantly.

You laughed out loud when you saw it — that stupid Adam Levine DM meme. You shot a quick reply back, letting him know you’d bought it and that you missed him and headed back to the hotel. Seunghyun had let you know he was on his way back, too.

It was a few minutes after you’d stepped through the door when he did. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you against his chest. “I missed you. I’m sorry that I barely get to see you today. I have to head back in an hour.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled up at him. “You’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

“And I will,” he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet, gentle kiss.

“Are you having fun, though?”

“Yeah, I… missed doing stuff like this. Seeing the fans, talking to people — it’s been a long time and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it but everyone has been so kind. I didn’t expect it.”

“Please, everyone loves you. And if they didn’t, they’d have me to deal with you.” You put on your best menacing face to prove your mind which caused him to laugh loudly, playfully booping your nose.

“I love you but you’re the least threatening person I know,” he teased. His dimples were on full show, making you melt. It really was hard to remember when you’d seen him smile so much like this. It was enough to make you emotional.

“Hey, when it comes to protecting you, I won’t hesitate to throw a punch,” you were half joking but in reality, you really would hurt someone if they ever did someone to upset him.

“Okay, calm down, Mike Tyson.”

“Shutup and kiss me again before I have to share you with the world for the rest of the day.”

And, he happily did. He made sure to make it a kiss you’d remember, his lips moving against yours slowly, full of all the love and adoration he had for you. It made your head spin, your heart beating ten to the dozen. No matter how many times he kissed you, it always felt like the very first time.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was so hard to tear your eyes away from Seunghyun. This was his best look of the week. The dark suit with the glittering stars on it paired with those glasses? He looked beautiful. It was enough to almost take your breath away. What made it even better was seeing him laugh and have fun. He had been his goofy self all night long. Every interview he’d been dropping the ‘skrrt’ line and had even made his grand entrance doing the famous Thanos slip. At some point, he’d been given a gift of some soju and by the look on his face you knew he wasn’t interested in it one bit. He held the box in his hand, awkwardly looking at it and trying to put it back on the shelf with the others. You’d laughed out loud at that. Anyone who knew Seunghyun knew he only drank the highest quality of wines.

He had been the star of the show. All the photographers wanted him and solely him. Fans were screaming the loudest for him out of anyone else on the red carpet. He truly was the people’s princess.

It just so happened that Squid Game was first up on the stage. The crowd went crazy for Seunghyun, making you tear up. This was his first time on a stage in front of people in years. It was where he belonged. He really did shine the brightest out of them all. There were no words to explain how proud of him

you were. This whole week had done wonders for his self esteem and you’d never forget it. The world crave Choi Seunghyun and you knew this was just the start of many more appearances like this. Now he had his confidence back, the world was his oyster. It would give him the push he needed to finally release his album and maybe even get back on that stage to perform next time.

Since they’d been on first and weren’t needed for the rest of the show — a crime considering Squid Game was the most watched Netflix show of all time — Seunghyun had decided to sneak away and leave the event early. You were glad because it meant you could finally get more than five minutes alone with him. Watching him from afar was great but you needed him up close and personal so you could tell him how proud you were of him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You killed it tonight, baby,” you said softly, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. You were back at the hotel now, finally getting the alone time with each other that you’d both been craving. “I’m so proud of you. It’s been such a privilege getting to see you out there thriving everyday and getting showered in all the love you’ve deserved for so long.”

“I said it earlier in the week and I’ll say it again, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you. You’re my rock, my lifeline. Having you with me at every single one of these events made it so much easier so thank you for never giving up on me even when I wanted to give up on myself,” he pushed your hair back behind your ear, leaning his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

He didn’t let you have time to respond, instead he pressed his lips to yours. His hands gripped at your hips, pulling you flush against him as he poured all his emotions into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, depending the kiss causing you to moan. You gripped at the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer to you if that was even physically possible.

Seunghyun’s hand delicately moved to your back, sliding up your spine until he found the zipper of your dress. He didn’t tear his lips from yours as he pulled the zipper down, pushing the dress from your shoulders. When he did, it was only to let your dress fall, leaving you standing their in your bra and panties. His words were breathless, his eyes raking over you with a loving gaze. “You’re so beautiful. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

It brought a blush to your cheeks which only made him smile. It was your turn now to rid him of his jacket, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. Your hands roamed the toned skin of his chest, sliding up and wrapping around his neck. Seunghyun gripped your waist, slowly backing you up until your legs hit the back of the bed. He guided you onto it, settling between your legs on top of you. His lips trailed along your neck, down to your collarbone. There was no rush this time, no desire to leave marks. He wanted to cherish you, show you how much he loved you. His hips pressed against yours, slowly grinding against you allowing you to feel how hard he already was.

It took no time at all for him to remove your bra, his lips trailing along the smooth skin of your breast taking one of your nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the hardened bud while his fingers trailed along your inner thigh. His touch caused you to shiver, a soft gasp echoing through the room when his fingers dipped insider your panties. He felt how wet you were, how ready you were for him already. He rubbed his fingers through your folds, his mouth now moving to lavish your other breast with attention. You arched up into him, fingers threading through his hair, messing it up. One of his favourite things in the world was when you ran your hands through his hair, bonus points if you tugged on it.

“I need you, Seunghyun,” you breathed, unable to take it anymore. “So fucking much.”

“I need you too,” he mumbled against your skin, trailing his lips back up to meet yours. Your hand moved between your bodies to pop open the button on his pants and he instantly took the hint. He pulled himself away from you momentarily to pull his pants and boxers off, your mouth watering as you watched his cock spring free, aching and leaking at the tip. Once he was bare, he made quick work of pulling your panties off, patting your legs for him.

He positioned himself at your entrance, taking one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together then he pushed in. Seunghyun wasn���t in a rush, he took his time sinking himself into you excruciatingly slow until he was bottomed out inside you. His lips peppered your face with kisses, not moving just yet because he wanted to savour the feeling of being joined with you.

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered, finally pulling his hips back slowly and pushing back in. His thrusts were slow, deep, making you feel every inch of him with each thrust.

“I love you too,” you moved your hips in time with his, squeezing his hand that was holding yours. The breath moans falling from your lips and the way your chest rose and fell was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

He pulled one of your legs around his waist to hit deeper inside you, still with his slow and steady pace. The tip of his cock repeatedly hit that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. Seunghyun knew you were getting close with the way your moans were growing louder. He could feel you clenching around him. His own orgasm was fast approaching, his thrusts become a little quicker now as he chased your highs.

“I’m so close, baby. So fucking close. Come with me. I want to feel you let go,” he kissed you deeply. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in tight, quick circles to help bring you to the peak of ecstasy.

“Seunghyun,” you moaned, your nails raking down his back. There was definitely going to be marks but he didn’t care. In fact he loved it. “I-I’m… fuck, I’m gonna come.”

It took a couple more thrusts before you let go, crying out his name. Seunghyun’s hips faltered as his own release hit him, stilling inside you. He held you in place as he came, a guttural groan falling from his lips at the feeling of filling you up. Once you’d squeezed every last drop of his release from him, he collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you. His lips peppered your face with kisses, causing you to giggle breathlessly.

“You’re fucking amazing,” his voice was a deep rumble, spent from the force of your shared release. “I’ll never tire of being with you like this.”

“Me neither,” you said softly. Your fingers ran through his hair, Seunghyun closing his eyes and leaning into your touch. “I think this was the perfect way to end a perfect week.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The first few weeks back in Korea had been normal. Seunghyun had gone back to working on his eagerly awaited album while you supported him in any way you could. Everything seemed perfect. The LA trip had done wonders for him. It was about a month later when things took a bit of a turn.

At first you’d thought nothing of it. The nausea, the headaches, the way your boobs ached — you’d just put it down to your period but when they didn’t come was when you started to worry. There was no way, right? Well, actually there was. You and Seunghyun weren’t exactly careful. There were so many times where you got caught up in the moment and forgot about using a condom. The week in LA had been a perfect example of that. There was only one way to know for sure if your suspicions were correct.

One day while Seunghyun was busy in his studio, you went into the bathroom pulling out the three pregnancy tests you’d secretly bought. The agnosing wait to see the results was probably the most nervous you’d ever felt in your life. There was a moment where you couldn’t even bring yourself to look but when you did and they all said positive, your head began to spin.

You had to tell Seunghyun.

That was going to be the hardest part.

With a deep breath, you stepped inside the studio. Seunghyun spun around in his chair the second he’d heard the door, a smile on his face until he saw the look on yours. He raised a brow at you in concern. “Everything okay?”

You fumbled with the tests you’d stored in the front pocket of your hoodie, ready to pull them out to show him. “Please don’t freak out but… you know how I haven’t been feeling well the last few weeks? Well, um….”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words so finally you pulled the tests out to show Seunghyun. At first he was confused then his face paled, his eyes widening. “…no.”

“Please don’t freak out,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, your voice barely above a whisper. You could already tell it was too late for that. He was indeed freaking out.

One of the first things Seunghyun had told you when you got together was that he didn’t want children. He loved kids but he never saw himself as the person who could be a father to a kid. In his head, he could barely take care of himself let alone another human being. It was so much responsibility, one that he did think he could handle. It hadn’t bothered you. When you thought about your future, you’d never thought about children so it wasn’t a big deal.

But, here you were, pregnant with your husband looking like he was about to pass out in his chair,

“… are you sure?” He asked, finally meeting your eyes.

“Yeah. I know this wasn’t part of the plan, I know you don’t want this but I’m scared, Seunghyun. I need you to tell me you’re not going to run. I don’t know what I’d do if you did.” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you furiously rubbed at them with the sleeve of your hoodie.

Seunghyun was on his feet and in front of you in an instant. He pulled your hands away from your face, using the pad of his thumbs to wipe away the few tears that had managed to fall. “I’m fucking terrified. I’m not dad material. The thought of being a dad scares me but not because I don’t want to be one but because I know I won’t be good enough. But, don’t you dare for one second ever think I’d run. I love you too damn much to ever leave you. I… do want this, I always have deep down, especially with you but I’m always going to think i’m not good enough.”

“But you are. You’re more than good enough. The way you are with your nephew is proof enough to me that you’ll be an amazing dad,” you met his eyes, the vulnerability in his matching your own. “You’re kind, patient, strong and not to mention a giant goofball. All the ingredients of a perfect dad.”

“You’re biased,” he joked to try and lighten the tension. “…I’ll be honest with you, baby, if this had been last year or even a few months ago, I don’t think I’d be able to do this but… I think I’m finally in a place where I could. Like I keep saying, as long as I have you, I can do anything.”

“So, we’re doing this?”

“Yeah, we’re doing this.”

You wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head on his chest. “I guess now I have a reason to call you daddy.”

He laughed, the sound like music to your ears. The road ahead probably wasn’t going to be easy but you had each other and that was all that mattered.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @loveesiren @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @aizshallnotbefound @fleabagspurplewife @gemzyy @bettelaboure @gdinthehouseee @breakmeoff @babyrvis @flymetothexmoon @forevervibezzzz1 @ttturnitup @szonyix6277 @riddlerloveb0t @youlikeex @septywitch @melanatedhorrorqueen @l5byrinth @tabibabib @moontabi @loonybunny1

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: here , Part 2: here , Part 3: here , Part 4: You’re here!

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don't have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family, Reader x Conner “Kon-El” Kent (romantic.). Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest

TW: Heavy Angst, a lot of crying, abuse in the form of neglect, pregnancy, Reader briefly expresses regret for existing

Theres a beat of silence after your husband came crashing through the window, minus the sound of your own sobs, you’re too overwhelmed to focus on the crash after all you just found out the people who neglected you, apparently they had done it all to protect you. Even when it wasn’t something you asked to be protected from. You missed out on so many things normal families did and now all it did was leave you scarred, untrusting with deep attachment issues and currently sobbing on the floor surrounded by glass that your husband shattered to get to you.

“CONNER?” Yells Tim in pure shock, which finally makes you finally look up and towards the crash. There, Conner Kent, your husband stood. He was clearly in shock, his soulmate who was pregnant with his child is kneeling on the floor, eyes a soft red and face all puffy as tears slip down. Meanwhile his best friend’s family is staring at said soulmate on the floor awkwardly.

When you see him you honestly cry harder, finally you’re not alone surrounded by people who supposedly loved you but someone who did truly care, and wouldn’t go fucking up your life, at least not without asking first.

“Please take me home Conner…” you sob choking on your own words as you stare at him desperately. Hearing you speak snaps him out of his shock, perhaps on autopilot he picks you up, making sure you are shielded away from your family. “Sorry dude, I’ll… text later. Maybe.” He says solemnly speaking to Tim but he still only looks at you. Tim goes to say something but before he can Conner is gone instantly, leaving behind one stunned bat family.

Conner flies through the sky still holding a sobbing you as he gently whispers “hey.. hey, it’s okay I’ve got you now. You’re safe.” in an attempt to soothe you and himself as well.

He knew you were like him, had family issues and weren’t loved quite right. Perhaps that’s how you guys bonded so fast, shared trauma is a powerful bonding agent. But he never knew who exactly they were, he knew you didn’t want to talk about it and he respected that. When he met you, you had your mother’s last name before taking his, so he never even had the slightest idea Bruce Wayne was your father. Also didn’t help Tim never once mentioned your name, unlike the other siblings he’d call by name, Tim referred to you only as “My other sibling.” on the rare occasions he did allude to you existing.

If he could get a headache right now he would, unfortunately(?) due to Kryptonian things he can’t. As he’s flying he thinks briefly before landing at your shared home ‘Damn what the hell is going on.’

You don’t remember what happened the rest of the night when you got home, you only remember continuously sobbing and a worried Conner trying his best to soothe you all for it to fail. It was so bad when Conner put you down on the couch to get you some water, when you tried to stand you just fell to your knees only able to lean on the couch as support, holding onto it like it’ll somehow save you. Perhaps all the suppressed emotions came flooding, a life time of being strong to have it crumble.

the years of watching your supposed siblings hanging out but it almost disbanding when you tried to join,

the months of drawings about your supposed father holding your small hand left unlooked,

the weeks of wondering if maybe you prayed hard enough someone would hug you

and the days of wondering if you would’ve been better off at the orphanage, or better yet never been born at all.

Now suddenly they did it for your sake? All the missed moments? You want to laugh and scream. The irony of thinking it’s better to neglected a child than to tell said child the truth. You feel Conner put a reassuring hand on your back gently rubbing when he hands you the glass of water, you push it away. You just need to cry, not water. He seems to understand putting it to the side on the hard wood floor and instead choosing to be a comforting presence while you cry.

You cry and sob for hours, unable to stop. Even when it slows down enough for Conner to finally get you to drink some water, urge you to change into your pjs because it was close to dawn now and you hadn’t slept a bit, you can still feel the tears rolling down. You think you must’ve passed out from crying because the last thing you remember seeing was Conner’s worried face like he would’ve cried too and now you’re looking at the sunrise peak through the blinds.

You sit up and sit on the edge of the bed looking down you feel dull and empty, like the entire world suddenly decided to drain itself of all joy and leave you with nothing. As you get up you pass the shared floor length mirror, when you look at yourself, all you can think of is how you look like a husk of a person. To be expected, you did go through something emotionally taxing and you did cry a lot so it makes sense your eyes look empty.

You can smell burnt pancakes. It seems Conner is trying to bake again…

As you enter the kitchen you can see the pile of burnt pancakes on a plate he prepared. Conner gives you an awkward smile as he looks at you and the pancakes, “In hindsight it’s a lot different to use heat vision than the stove.” You pause staring at him and then at the pancakes again, he looks nervous before he clarifies “they’re still edible I promise…”

A smile spreads across your face before you begin to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Somehow you laugh so hard it morphs into crying again when you threw your head back in a fit of laughter. Conner’s relieved face at you laughing turns to worry again as he floats over quickly to have you in his arms.

You cry your eyes out into Conner’s shirt as he holds you tight against him. “Hey, it’s okay, we are going to be okay.” Conner says gently rubbing your back supportively.

“I just can’t believe for such a stupid reason they shut me out!” You weep into your hands, the tears almost collecting in your palms as you finally start speaking. “But at the same time I.. I sort of get it? and it’s frustrating because… I don’t know! Cause it feels like now I don’t have the right to complain or just be upset anymore!” You shout frustrated by everything and all the emotions you’re feeling merging together to create one big storm. “Perhaps it’s somehow my fault—“ you mumble softly before you’re cut off by Conner.

Conner grabs you face and makes you look at him before you can finish, his face solemn as he speaks “You have every right to complain, even if they had good fucking intentions it still hurt. And that sucks.” His face scrunches a bit from sadness at frustration. “Don’t say stuff like it’s your fault. It’s not and I won’t let them demean the one good thing I have in my life.” He gently taps the side of your face before sadly smiling at you and your teary eyed face.

You chuckle softly. You want to cry more but you don’t feel like crying when you remember that Conner loves you and even if you don’t have a father or siblings like you wanted, you still have your adoring, handsome, funny, charismatic husband and an adorable child-to-be-born that’ll have your amazing looks and his personality. It may not have been the family you always wanted as a kid but it’s what you want and need now, and that’s all that matters.

“Hey, Let’s spend today in bed and order food the entire day.” You say smiling at him your face still feels a bit weird after all that crying.

“Sounds good… but are we not going to eat my pancakes?” He teases

“I love you, but not enough that I’d eat actual ash for you.”

“Oh wow so you don’t love me anymore?” Conner replies clutching his chest dramatically before taking a step back to lean himself the table like he’s dying. To which you roll your eyes.

“Okay that’s NOT what I said. Anyways I’m going to rest in bed, come join after you finished ordering breakfast and being dramatic.” You remarked before you walk away and into the bedroom to wait for him, you knew he wouldn’t be long.

Meanwhile the entire bat fam is FREAKING. Damian is arguing with both Tim and Grayson to which Barbara has to try and break it up, Bruce is sat on the couch (not having moved since last night) covering his face as he tries to ponder where it all went wrong, Stephanie is pacing around anxiously, Alfred is trying to repair the window which was supposedly shatterproof but unfortunately ‘shatterproof’ isn’t a concept that exists for the supers, Jason is shrugging and saying “I told you this would happen.” (He didn’t.) and everyone else is scattered about some watching the argument, trying to brainstorm to a silent brooding Bruce or trying to help fix the window.

Eventually they would all have to begin brainstorming on what to do next, how to repair it all and get you to forgive them. Right now is time for panic.

[insomniaccorner]

And Then You Were There

POV: Second person Genre: Angst / Found Family / Soft Reconciliation Word Count: ~2.5k Summary: You vanished without warning. No trace, no message, no fight. And then, just as suddenly… you came back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It starts with a knock on the Manor’s side door.

Alfred opens it first, thinking it might be a courier.

Instead, it's you.

Backpack over one shoulder, hood up, like you just stepped out for air and forgot to come back for six weeks.

“…Hello,” you say.

Alfred doesn’t speak right away.

He opens the door all the way. Slowly. Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again.

“You’re back,” he says finally, voice careful.

You shrug.

“Yeah. Just needed space.”

You think they’ll all be mad.

They are.

But that’s not the first thing they say.

Bruce appears like a ghost in the hallway — dressed in casual clothes, but with the weight of the cowl still hanging from his shoulders. His eyes scan every inch of you like he's checking for blood, bruises, bombs.

“Where the hell were you?” he says.

You don’t answer. You just mutter something about needing to clear your head, and that you’re sorry for ghosting everyone.

He doesn’t reply. He just turns around and walks away, fists clenched at his sides.

Dick hugs you like you died and he didn’t get a funeral.

You don’t hug back right away, so he pulls away — just slightly — and cups your face in both hands.

“You can’t do that,” he says softly. “You can’t just vanish.”

You try to joke. “Didn’t know you missed me that much.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“Don’t do that, either,” he says. “Don’t act like it didn’t matter. It did.”

Then he pulls you into another hug. Fiercer this time. Like he's afraid you'd vanish if he blinked.

Jason doesn’t say anything at first.

He sees you walk into the kitchen, stops mid-step, and just stares.

His mouth opens. Closes.

Then he turns and walks out.

You find him in the garage twenty minutes later, sitting on the hood of his bike, running a hand through his hair.

“I just needed to get out,” you try.

Jason snorts. “Yeah. So did I, once. When I died.”

You freeze.

He doesn’t look at you.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, you did.”

You stare at the floor. “You’re mad.”

“I was mad. Now I’m just tired.”

Then, softer:

“Are you staying this time?”

You don’t answer.

He nods anyway. “Didn’t think so.”

But he makes you a plate later that night and leaves it outside your door.

Tim doesn’t yell.

He doesn’t cry.

He just doesn’t stop working.

For days after you’re back, he’s in the Batcave for sixteen-hour stretches. When you ask if he wants to talk, he shrugs and says “talk about what?”

You say you’re sorry.

He says, “Cool.”

You say you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.

He says, “Yeah, but you did anyway.”

You say you thought disappearing would be better than making it worse.

And that’s what finally gets him to snap.

“Do you seriously think we’re better off not knowing if you’re alive?”

You flinch.

He doesn’t apologize.

He just adds, voice hoarse:

“You don’t get to decide how replaceable you are to other people.”

Then he goes back to his monitor.

But when you check the logs later, you see a new folder labeled with your name — filled with location pings and missing persons alerts from the last month and a half.

He didn’t sleep much either.

Damian acts like he doesn’t care.

“You return as suddenly as you vanished,” he says with a scoff. “Predictable.”

You expect him to be distant. Cold.

But you find sketches in the trash with your face on them.

You find your combat gear cleaned and set aside in the locker room.

And one night, you catch him standing outside your door. Just… standing.

He doesn’t knock. Doesn’t say anything. Just lingers.

You don’t open the door.

But you whisper, “I missed you, too.”

And he walks away, ears pink.

It takes Alfred cornering you in the hallway to finally get you to say why.

“It wasn’t about you guys,” you mumble, chewing at your sleeve. “It was just… me.”

“And yet it affected all of us,” he replies gently. “You are not a ghost, Master/Mistress [Y/N]. You cannot vanish without shaking the walls you’ve become a part of.”

You choke out something that might be a sob. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Alfred frowns.

Then straightens your collar with a gentleness that hurts.

“If the people who love you must suffer in silence so you can disappear in peace, that is not freedom. That is loneliness. And you deserve better.”

You nod, tears hot in your eyes.

Eventually, you stop acting like you never left.

And they stop pretending they’re not hurt.

The first family dinner after your return is awkward.

Jason throws a fork. Tim almost leaves. Bruce doesn’t say a word until dessert.

Then:

“I’m still angry,” he says. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

And somehow, that’s enough.

You don’t vanish again.

But the next time you feel like you might?

You don’t run.

You knock on Jason’s door instead.

He doesn’t even look up. Just says, “Figured it was coming. Sit down.”

So you do.

And for once, someone stays.

[jeeseth]

# NEVER MINE — daniela avanzini x f!reader

ᝰ.ᐟ to make your ex jealous, you strike a deal with your long-time-not-so rival, daniela avanzini — fake date until prom. the plan is to post couple pics, flirt in public, and pretend you’re head-over-heels. easy right? except, she’s really good at pretending. a little too good.

˖⋆࿐໋ ( fakebf!dani x f!rᥱᥲdᥱr ) ── .✦ you might wanna tune in < boyfriend by ariana.g > ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⟡﹒ tᥲgs ﹐ ﹅ ⟢ fluff? non-idol au, college au, fake dating au, enemies to lovers au, fakeboyfriend!daniela, mention of the other katseye members, mention of yunjin from lesserafim, mention of tattoos, jealousy?, kissing, LOTS of pda, lowkey suggestive if you squint your eyes, lowercase intended, mens dni, grammatical errors .

( ˶°ㅁ°) !! a/n - i’m clearly hooked on writing about katseye. THESE GIRLS ARE TAKING OVER MY LIFE HELLO?? but i’m not complaining obviously. ever since the sophia story blew up i HAD to write for another members and i hoped yall enjoy this! i use grammar checkers. english nawt my first language can you blame me? anyway enjoy :P

your ex is glowing. and you absolutely hates it.

like, unfairly glowing — instagram filter level, post-breakup confidence, ‘just got a new girlfriend’ type of glowing. she’s tagged in a post that makes your heart skip and your stomach turn. a soft photo. coffee cups on a windowsill, your ex’s hand intertwined with someone else’s.

"soft mornings with her 🤍"

ew. you blink at the screen. it’s not that you want her back. well not really. it’s just that she moved on so fast like you didn’t even leave a dent.

you’re halfway through doom-scrolling her profile when someone passes by your library table and nudges your charger off the edge. you lunge for it and absolutely miss it — and it clatters to the floor near a familiar pair of worn converse. oh boy. your stomach drops.

daniela avanzini.

she picks up the charger, holds it between two fingers like it might actually bite her, and places it silently back on the table without even glancing at you.

"um thanks," you mutter, barely making eye contact with daniela.

she hums and walks away. excuse me but what? she just hums? literally no words. no acknowledgment. no you’re welcome or anything. huh. classic.

-

daniela avanzini is everything you can’t stand. effortlessly cool, quiet. the kind of girl who rarely post on social media, doesn’t raise her hand in lectures, doesn’t care if professors mispronounce her name. and somehow, everyone still knows who she is. it’s like she’s carved out this unreachable space on campus where people talk about her like a myth.

you’ve only had a few classes with her, but in your head and you’d never say this out loud but, she’s your rival.

you always come in second. every time you get a test back, her name is right above yours. every time you answer a question in class, her bored "actually…" cuts through the room two minutes later and leaves yours in the dust. and the worst part? you’re pretty convinced that she doesn’t even know your name.

later that day, your ex passes you in the quad. she doesn’t look at you, but her new girlfriend does — with the same kind of polite pity people reserve for wet dogs and forgotten leftovers. yucks.

you turn around a little too quickly, almost trip over a freaking skateboard, and catch yourself on a bench. your roommate’s (lara) words from last night come screaming back.

"girl honestly? you need to make her jealous. like, get a hot girlfriend. someone unexpected. someone she’ll definitely hate seeing you with."

you laughed at that time but now, you’re still stinging from your ex’s perfect instagram life, you glance across the quad and see her again. daniela.

sitting under a tree, one headphone in, legs stretched out like she owns the earth beneath her. reading a book you know she won’t even annotate because she remembers everything. the only person your ex could never figure out and the only person you could never beat.

you don’t even realize it but you’re walking until you’re standing right in front of her, your heart pounding loudly like you’re about to make the worst decision of your life.

she looks up slowly and blinks once, doesn’t even take out her headphone.

"i need a favour." you say breathlessly. are you nervous? in front of your rival? daniela doesn’t answer so you press on.

"i told my ex I’m dating someone, and i kind of said it was you." you manage to say in one single breath. you pray to god that daniela won’t hear how fast your heart is beating from nervousness.

there’s a pause. you expect her to laugh, or roll her eyes, or walk away like this conversation never happened. but she just stares at you like a weirdo.

"okay." she mutters and it definitely caught you by surprise.

"wait- what?" you blinks in pure confusion and surprise.

"i’ll fake date you, only if you stop looking at me like you’re about to fight me in a parking lot." she shrugs and stands up from the grass. still doesn’t look directly into your eyes.

"why would you agree to this?" you asks, softer than intended.

she finally meets your eyes — and there’s the faintest twitch of a smirk at the corner of her mouth which makes you annoyed for some reasons.

"i’m bored."

and just like that, she walks away again, as if she didn’t just casually agree to change the entire trajectory of your college career.

-

you spend the next morning second-guessing every outfit in your closet and constantly telling yourself it’s not for her. it’s for the plan. the fake plan. the plan where you look convincingly in love so your ex gets jealous and maybe, for once, loses.

and definitely not because daniela avanzini is going to be walking next to you. definitely not because she looked you up and down yesterday and said "okay" like it didn’t mean anything. then suddenly your phone buzzes.

daniela

be outside in 10. you don’t need to dress up.

you stare at the message for a solid minute. you have so many questions. like how did she even get your number? but let’s put that aside because you are dressed up.

when you step outside, she’s already leaning against the bike rack, hoodie up, hands in her jacket pockets, looking like she hasn’t thought about anything once in her entire life. her eyes flick up when she sees you. then down. then back up. is she checking you out?

"you said i didn’t need to dress up," you say, trying to play it cool which lowkey doesn’t work.

"you didn’t. but you look good." daniela shrugs nonchalantly. you pretend that doesn’t make your chest do something weird.

"so how are we doing this?" you ask, sighing afterwards. "pda? couple walk? hand-holding?"

daniela looks at your hand for a beat. then, without a word, reaches over and laces her fingers through yours.

"we’ll walk," she says.

"that’s it?" you asks, dumbfounded.

"for now." she says and you swear you can see her smirking from the corner of your eyes.

the quad is too loud, too crowded. everyone’s outside. music from someone’s bluetooth speaker is bouncing off the walls, and you swear there’s a subtle shift in the air when you and daniela pass through. people notice and obviously they will whisper. a girl who you recognise from your chem lab literally nudges her friend and points.

"are they staring?" you whisper to daniela.

"mhm," daniela hums. like it’s nothing. like this is totally normal for her.

"okay. why are you so calm?"

"i’m always calm."

"i know and it’s annoying." you huffs before rolling your eyes mentally. you expect her to ignore you — like she usually does but she lets out a tiny laugh, low and quick.

"you’re funny when you’re panicking." daniela says quietly.

"i’m not panicking."

and then she squeezes your hand just slightly. not enough for anyone else to notice. just enough for you to feel it.

you’re passing the café when you suddenly hear it — your ex’s laugh. sharp. too loud. too familiar. you freeze up. and daniela notices. she follows your gaze. your ex is inside, tucked into a booth with her new girlfriend, all soft smiles and leaning in close. your throat tightens ever so slightly.

daniela shifts beside you. doesn’t say anything. just gently tugs your hand and keeps walking, guiding you away like it’s instinct.

"you wanna go in?" she asks quietly.

"no." you reply almost instantly.

"then keep your head up. don’t let her see you looking at her like she matters." daniela mutters softly but firmly. her words hit harder than you expect.

you stop outside your lecture hall a few minutes early. the crowd thins. people stop watching. technically, the act is over. but daniela doesn’t let go of your hand.

"you can let go now," you say as if you’re reminding her.

"i know." but she still doesn’t.

you glance over at daniela. she’s staring straight ahead, unreadable as always.

"that wasn’t horrible," you mumbles softly.

"high praise," she says, a tiny smirk ghosting her mouth.

then, daniela said something that almost makes you choke on your own saliva. she said it like it’s nothing.

"if you want to make her more jealous, i can kiss you next time."

"w-what?" you stutter, almost chokes upon hearing daniela’s words.

"i won’t do it unless you’re okay with it," daniela says, calm as ever. "but you looked like you were gonna disappear back there."

"that’s… actually really considerate." you said shakily. she looks at you then. really looks. and for the first time since this whole thing started, you can’t read her.

"see you later." she says, finally letting go of your hands. and she walks away without another word.

you stay there a moment too long, hand still warm, head still spinning from everything. this was your idea. this was supposed to be fake. so why does it feel like she’s playing the role a little too well?

-

it’s one of those rare days when the weather is nice and the sun hits the campus lawn just right — the kind of afternoon where students sprawl across the grass, half-studying, half-napping, pretending they’re not drowning in deadlines.

you’re at your usual spot as always — a bench tucked under a tree near the south building. it’s your unofficial recess place. far enough from the cafeteria noise, but close enough to eavesdrop on the chaos if you feel like it. you’ve got headphones in, open tabs on your laptop, snack in one hand and phone in the other. and you’re definitely not expecting some extra company. which is why, when someone drops their bag next to yours and sits down without saying anything, your heart jumps into your throat.

you yank one earbud out and glance to your side. daniela with her hood up, sleeves too long, bottle of water in her hand, thumb resting lightly on the cap. just sitting beside you. like this is totally normal.

"um hi???" you says, eloquent as ever.

"hi." daniela replies, tone so chill it sounds like she’s been here the whole time.

you stare at her for a second, waiting for the punchline. she doesn’t look at you. just leans back against the bench like it belongs to her. like you belong to her.

"do you usually sit here?" she asks after a moment, eyes still looking forward. "you’re always in this spot. i noticed."

"you noticed?" you blink upon hearing daniela’s words.

"yeah. you always snack during break. same brand of chips too." daniela says as she glances at the bag of chips in your hands.

you also look down at the bag in your hand. it’s the same one you eat basically every day. you didn’t think anyone paid attention. even you barely pay attention.

"i mean—yeah, i guess? i like this bench."

daniela hums and then opens her water and takes a slow sip. you want to ask her why she’s here, why she’s choosing to sit next to you now, with people literally walking by and noticing but you’re too scared that if you do, she’ll leave. so you just keep existing beside her.

twenty minutes pass. you’re still pretending to scroll through your notes, but you haven’t read a single sentence. and daniela? daniela is leaned back, legs stretched out, water bottle resting between her knees, like she’s never been more relaxed in her life.

a few students walk past and you hear one of them whisper, "wait, are they dating? like for real?" and your chest tightens when you heard that.

"people are talking." you mumble softly, not even dare looking up.

"let them." daniela replies, calm as anything.

"aren’t you worried they’ll think it’s real?" you asks and look over at daniela. and then she finally looks at you. lile really really looks.

"isn’t that the point?" daniela says nonchalantly. you open your mouth, then close it.

and then, just to completely ruin your brain she reaches over, takes a chip from your bag, pops it in her mouth, and smiles.

"these are good."

daniela stays until the bell rings and doesn’t move when it buzzes. doesn’t rush. just stands up slowly, throws her bag over her shoulder, and glances down at you.

"same spot tomorrow?" she asks causing you blink up at her in genuine surprise.

"um yeah sure." you mumbles softly.

she walks off like nothing happened. like this wasn’t weird. like she didn’t just publicly chill beside you for almost half an hour and steal your snacks like you’ve been doing this for weeks. and just before she disappears around the corner, she turns back and says something to you.

"bring extra chips yea?"

you sit there, staring after her, snack bag half-empty, heart half-lost. you’re in big trouble.

-

you’re not used to people watching you. at least not like this. not the way students glance in your direction when you walk into the quad now. not the way group chats whisper and spiral. not the way yunjin looks at you across the lawn like she just saw a ghost wearing her old hoodie.

daniela’s beside you again today. sitting under your tree like she owns the shade. legs stretched, hoodie sleeves half-covering her hands, thumb lazily scrolling through something on her phone. she doesn’t care that you’re being watched. doesn’t even pretend to. and you kind of like that.

"you’re quiet today." you say, nudging daniela’s knee.

"you’re talkative today." she glances up and smirks faintly at you. you smile despite yourself.

you’re sitting a little closer than yesterday. not on purpose. just gravity, maybe. hehe. the air’s warm. the quad’s buzzing. and you’re halfway through offering her another chip when you hear it. the sound that lowkey annoys you.

her laugh. you know that laugh. you freeze for a second, chip halfway to your mouth. then you glance up. yunjin.

ten feet away. hair tied back, sunglasses pushed up on her head, walking with that girl. her new girl. the one who took your place so fast you barely had time to breathe. and they’re headed toward the quad bench nearest yours. of course.

daniela must sense it. or maybe she just knows your body language too well already. well either way, she shifts closer, leans in slightly but not enough to make a scene, just enough for anyone watching to get the message. and then, she does it.

she reaches up and smooths a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. her fingers are gentle, her face unreadable. but her eyes? oh her eyes flicker just slightly toward where yunjin’s standing. you don’t even have time to process it before you hear footsteps stop.

"wow. so this is real huh?" yunjin says, her voice coated in sugar.

you blink and look up. she’s standing right in front of you and literally smiling tight. daniela doesn’t move. hence she doesn’t even look surprised at all.

"hey, didn’t think you’d move on this fast." yunjin mutters, her eyes dragging over daniela slowly.

"we’ve been talking for a while," daniela finally says, casually but yet dangerous. "just kept it quiet."

and clearly you almost choke from hearing that cause what the hell?

"didn’t think you were her type." yunjin says, eyes narrowing.

"good." daniela replies, still so calm it almost unnerves you. there’s a glint in her eyes—mischievous and unreadable.

"i don’t like being predictable anyway." daniela’s words hang in the air, cool and confident, leaving you unsure whether to be impressed or nervous. maybe both and then total silence.

yunjin’s jaw clenches. just a little. her hand tightens around her smoothie cup. and you really wonder if she’s about to throw it.

"well, good for you." yunjin says, and clearly its all bite now.

"thanks. we’re really happy." daniela says, giving yunjin a small smirk that surely pissed her off.

and then like she’s rehearsed this moment, daniela reaches over and rests her hand lightly on your knee. her thumb tracing lazy circles like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and your entire nervous system shuts down.

yunjin doesn’t say another word. she just turns and walks away, grip on her smoothie so tight you’re surprised it doesn’t explode. and when she’s out of earshot, you turn to daniela.

"okay. what the hell was that?"

"what?" daniela asks, shrugging like she did absolutely nothing afterwards.

"we’ve been talking for a while?’ daniela?!"

"sounded better than ‘we fake started dating yesterday.’" daniela smirks. well barely a smirk.

"you really don’t care if people believe this, huh?" you ask, staring at her, trying to read something. anything on her goddamn face.

daniela just shrugs, the corners of her mouth twitching like she’s fighting back a smirk. she leans back on her hands, glancing up at the sky.

"nah," she says. "but i care that she saw."

your heart skips a beat.

"that was evil."

"you smiled."

"i didn’t."

"you did."

you look away, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the grin forming. daniela is hella evil. but god. she’s too good at this.

-

you don’t plan to end up in her dorm. let’s say that it just happens. somehow, between daniela walking you halfway to class and you saying something dumb like "my phone’s about to die" and she just offers a casual

"you can charge it at mine."

like it’s nothing. like you are nothing. which, frankly, is a joke — because your heart is doing backflips and she’s acting like you just asked for a pen.

daniela’s room matches her energy: quiet, muted, somehow colder and warmer than you expect. the kind of space that doesn’t ask questions, just exists—still, steady. a hoodie is draped over the back of her chair, worn and faded. a cracked window lets in the soft hues of dusk, the breeze carrying in the scent of evening. a basketball is shoved carelessly under the desk, like she tossed it there without thinking.

you hesitate by the door, unsure if you should step in or stay put. she doesn’t say anything. doesn’t look up. just grabs your phone, plugs it in like it’s the most natural thing in the world, then tosses you a water bottle without missing a beat.

and here you are. you’re on her bed. the laptop rests between you, trail mix scattered in the space where your knees almost touch. there’s music playing—rnb, soft and slow. it hums in the background, setting a rhythm that neither of you really follow. but it fits.

you’re actually supposed to be working on your slides but oh well. your fingers hovering over the keyboard. daniela’s sketching something on a scrap of paper, focused, lines coming to life beneath her hand. she doesn’t explain what it is. doesn’t offer. you don’t ask.

but you keep stealing glances. and she keeps pretending not to notice. until she does. her eyes flick up, catching you mid-stare. you flinch, caught like a guilty secret. she doesn’t. she just raises an eyebrow at you, like really? your gaze drops immediately, heat crawling up your neck. the corner of her mouth twitches just barely but it’s there.

you end up there for hours and obviously you didn’t mean to. but she never tells you to leave. never acts like you’re taking up space. just lets you sit, lets you snack, lets you laugh at her handwriting and kick her ankle under the blanket when she says something sarcastic. and when you finally check your phone, it’s almost midnight. gosh.

"shit. i should go." you mutter as you eyes the time on your phone.

"you can stay."

"i mean, just to crash. if you want. i’ve got an extra hoodie. you look cold."

you don’t answer right away. and maybe that’s the answer in itself. dani gets up and throws you the hoodie. and she doesn’t even look at you while she does it. but when you slip it on, oversized and warm and still smelling like her shampoo, she says something that caught you off guard.

"looks good on you." daniela says like it’s nothing. but you’re starting to learn that when daniela says something like it’s nothing. it’s definitely something.

-

it’s ten minutes between lectures. your brain is foggy from note-taking, your fingers are cold from the library air, and your bag is slung too low on one shoulder. you barely hear anything as people file out around you. just chatter and sneaker-squeaks and someone dropping a water bottle that rolls past your feet.

you step into the hallway and as always, daniela’s already there leaning against the wall. arms crossed. earbuds in. one side of her hair tucked back. she’s looking at her phone but you can tell that she’s been waiting for you. and she doesn’t even look surprised when you walk up. just pulls one earbud out, glances up slow.

"hey." it’s so normal. so casual. like it’s a daily routine. maybe it’s becoming one.

"you’re early," you says softly, looking up at daniela.

"and you’re late." daniela says making you grin and bump her shoulder lightly.

"i was gonna say you missed me, but okay." you sighs dramatically causing daniela to snorts.

"i did."

"what?" you blink.

"what." but she’s smiling. just a little and just enough.

-

you don’t even remember how you ended up here. one minute, you were walking together after your last class and joking about something dumb, bumping shoulders. and the next, you were toeing off your shoes by her door, dropping your bag on her floor like this is routine. like you’ve done it a hundred times before. you haven’t. but it’s starting to feel like you could.

her dorm’s still the same. soft lighting that makes everything feel a little gentler. cracked window letting in the evening air. a half-zipped hoodie hanging from the corner of her bed, swaying slightly whenever you move. but this time, there’s no assignment. no project. no excuse. just you and her and the quiet space in between.

daniela’s in the desk chair, legs stretched out, socked feet crossed at the ankles. her head’s tilted slightly, like she’s listening to the soft music that hums low from her phone speaker—some mellow instrumental that doesn’t ask for attention, just fills the silence. but she keeps looking at you. not in a way that demands anything. just literally watching. like you’re something she’s trying to figure out, or maybe already has. and you keep pretending not to notice.

fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, suddenly very interested in the pattern on her blanket, the chipped nail on your thumb, anything that isn’t the heat rising in your cheeks under her gaze. but she doesn’t stop looking. and you don’t really want her to.

you really try to focus on something, anything. on your phone, but it’s hard when she’s just there. sitting like she owns the room. like the silence bends around her. like she knows you’re flustered and she likes it.

"you’re comfy," daniela says, breaking the silence.

"it’s your bed." you mumbles.

"yeah, but you’re still cute in it."

"excuse me?"

"just saying. you look good when you’re relaxed." dani shrugs, all casual. like she didn’t just lob a grenade into your chest.

"dani stop." you choke on your own breath and toss your phone onto the blanket.

"what?" she leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. eyes too steady. too smug and definitely too much.

"you’re blushing." she pauses.

"is it the ‘cute’ part or the ‘in my bed’ part that’s doing it for you?"

you stare at daniela. then you grab the nearest pillow and launch it right at her face. it hits with a soft whump and she bursts out laughing — the kind that makes her lean back in the chair, eyes squinting, mouth wide with actual joy. and how you wish it didn’t make your heart flip.

"you’re so annoying," you mumble, face hot, covering yourself with the blanket like it’ll undo the last thirty seconds.

"you didn’t deny it, though." she calls out, muffled through the pillow she’s now hugging to her chest. you groan and she just grins in satisfaction.

-

you’re half-asleep at your usual table. recess is loud and laughter echoing off walls, sneakers pounding pavement but it all feels distant, muffled by the fog in your head. your eyelids are heavy, textbook open in front of you but untouched.

daniela’s next to you. elbow propped on the table, cheek resting against her hand, posture lazy in that way only she can pull off. she’s quiet, letting you trace across the back of her other hand with your black pen. and she hasn’t said a word about it. just watches. barely blinking. her thumb twitches slightly when your finger accidentally brushes the inside of her wrist, but she doesn’t pull away.

you’re not even drawing anything good. just dumb little stars. uneven. shaky. some filled in, some not. you draw one right in the center of her hand. it’s a little crooked. off-balance. but who cares?

"that one’s you." you mumble, not really expecting her to hear.

"tilted?" dani gaze flicks up, one brow barely raised.

"shining." you correct, without looking up and she doesn’t respond but her hand stays still and so do you.

you forget about it. the next day slips by in pieces—notes you barely register, teachers talking like background noise, friends pulling you along through hallways you don’t fully remember walking. everything blurs.

until you’re halfway to your seat. and then you see her. daniela. already there with her hood up and sleeves rolled to her elbows like she always does when she’s tired or pretending she isn’t.

you stop mid-step. because on her hand right where you drew it yesterday is the star. your star. the tilted one. only now, it’s not in pen. it’s in ink. clean, sharp black lines. not smudged, not fading, permanent. your stomach drops.

"wait— you didn’t erase it?" you slide into the seat beside her, still staring.

"couldn’t." daniela shrugs like she doesn’t feel your panic.

"cause got it tattooed." daniela says that calmly and your throat dries.

"you’re joking."

"i’m not."

you blink. you wait for her to laugh, for the punchline but it just never comes.

"why would you—"

"because you drew it and because i didn’t want it to fade." daniela explains to you in a soft tone.

you don’t say anything. you’re so busy trying to process that you almost miss the way her hand finds yours under the table. her thumb brushes your knuckles and her voice drops.

"i like you, y/n." and then suddenly the world goes quiet.

like the air’s holding its breath with you. like everything else—the noise, the nerves, the chaos pauses just long enough to make room for her voice.

"not fake-like. not for the deal. not because it’s fun messing with you."

your heart’s hammering in your chest. your hand is shaking and dani notices so she holds it tighter.

"i like you for real. and i’m kinda hoping you like me back."

your eyes drop to the star on her skin. your star. on her. damn. what even is happening. and then they lift—to soft fabric and steady eyes and that stupid calm voice that’s always said more than it was supposed to.

"you’re actually insane," you whisper, breathless.

"is that a yes?"

you don’t answer her instead you just lean forward and kiss her quick, barely-there, more breath than touch. but it’s everything. and when you pull back, she’s already grinning like an idiot.

"so yes?"

"ugh, yes." you roll your eyes, heart still racing and cheeks burning.

you’re still close maybe a little too close. her hand’s still holding yours, thumb brushing soft over your knuckles like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you kissed her. you literally kissed her. and now she’s just sitting there, grinning like she just won something in life.

"you’re smiling way too much." you mumble, still a little breathless.

"am i?" daniela hums, tilting her head, her eyes flicking to your mouth again.

"you could kiss me again to make me stop."

"oh my god. you’re unbelievable." you mumbles as your face heats up at her words.

"and kissable." she adds helpfully. you throw your head back and groan, hand covering your face. dani’s laugh is low and smug and entirely too pleased with herself.

"daniela."

"what? you literally started it." she blinks innocently.

"you kissed me. on school property. during recess. and now i have expectations." you grab her sleeve and tug it over her face.

"you’re really insane."

"maybe. but you did draw a star on me and now it’s permanent. so i think we’re even."

you’re blushing. hard and you can feel it. she pulls her sleeve down just enough to look at you, voice quieter now softer but still teasing.

"just one more?" you look at her. she’s not pushing. not demanding. just there. waiting patiently.

you sighs as you lean in — not rushed, not dramatic. just a quiet, warm press of lips against hers again. longer this time, a little closer. her hand finds the side of your neck. your other one curls into the fabric of her hoodie. and when you pull back, her eyes flutter open, slow.

"okay," she whispers. "maybe two more."

"you’re such a pervert."

"yeah." daniela grins. "but i’m your pervert now."

you shove her away with a breathless laugh and she grabs your wrist, pulling you right back in.

[vunblr]

A Hand in the Dark (#5)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Hurt/Comfort. Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Suicidal thoughts (neither Bucky nor Reader). Canon-Typical Violence. Suggestion of past non-con.

Summary: In a brief moment of lucidity, Soldat makes a choice. And some choices echo across time, shaping the future in ways no one could predict.

Word Count: 4.5.k.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Lately, it had started to worry him.

The pattern of his steps echoing hers through the apartment. The way his eyes tracked her when she moved from room to room, like his body couldn’t help but orient toward her presence. He didn’t mean to ask when she’d be back every time she reached for her coat or keys. Didn’t mean to wait in the same spot where she left him, like a tethered thing. But he did.

And now he was noticing it.

He caught it again that morning, her voice low in the kitchen as she took a call. He stayed out of sight, crouched by the radiator as if twirling the knob meant anything, listening to her pacing steps and the careful tone she reserved for people who didn’t know him.

“Yeah, I just… I’m not feeling well,” she said into the phone. “Sorry. I- I know. Next time, promise. Yeah. No, no-it’s fine, maybe I didn’t bundle up enough. Yeah. I’ll text you later.”

He heard the clink of the mug when she hung up, the soft sigh she let out.

She wasn’t sick.

Not in the way she said it.

She was staying because of him. Kept missing things. Apologizing for his gravity, for the way he bent her time under his weight. He was her sickness. The one that kept her shackled.

And she didn’t even blame him.

That made it worse.

His thoughts were still turning that over when he saw her cross the living room, keys in hand.

“I’m going to the grocery store,” she said casually.

He didn’t say anything. But whatever expression passed over his face made her pause.

Her hand dropped to her side. “It’s going to be about 30 minutes, tops. Then I’m staying home, it’s my day off.”

She said it so gently. Like she’d already rehearsed the answer for whatever words he might throw at her.

His mouth felt dry. He wanted to ask what route she’d take, if she’d keep her phone on her -even if he didn’t have one yet-. He wanted to say he didn’t trust this city, didn’t trust its men, its sidewalks, the alley she had to pass behind the deli. His mind started to paint it, someone grabbing her arm, shoving her into a van, holding a gun to her head, asking questions he couldn’t afford her to answer. What if she screamed? What if they didn’t wait for her to scream?

“Do you want to come?”

Her voice cut through the spiraling.

“I know you’re still struggling with crowds,” she added, “but this is a quiet hour. Barely anyone is around. And you’ve gone out on your own lately. What do you say if we buy the food together?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at her.

Not at her face, but at her coat buttons, her hand flexing over the keys, the scuffed rubber of her shoes.

Together.

That word did something to the part of him that had clung, the part that had already started mourning her before she left.

He nodded once.

Maybe he could handle the aisles. The too-bright lights. The sound of doors opening and closing behind them.

As long as he could see her.

As long as he could make sure nothing touched her.

She smiled, rummaged in the side table drawer near the door, and came up with his gloves.

Not the woolen pair he'd picked up during one of his silent walks through the city, those always caught on the plating of his metal hand, snagging in the joints, tearing at the seams. They’d lasted maybe two days before ending up in the back of a drawer. No, these were the ones she’d found for him. Black leather, soft and almost new, from a second-hand shop. The good kind. Broken in by someone else, but worn just enough to mold comfortably to his hands. He’d struggled to say thank you when she gave them to him. Had waited for the catch, for the favor in return, but none ever came.

He pulled a baseball cap low over his head, took the gloves without a word, and worked them on one finger at a time. Then the jacket, which refused to close across his chest.

“We need to get you one your size,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

She reached for a black scarf next, stepped in close, and draped it around his neck with slow, careful hands and knotted it at the front, letting the ends fall against his chest.

“There. At least you won’t get cold.”

He almost told her it was fine. That his body could take worse. That this kind of cold was nothing, laughable, even. Not like the tundra. Not like the cryo chamber.

But he didn’t.

Because her fingers lingered a moment too long on the scarf’s edge. Because her voice had gone soft in that way it only did for him. Because he craved the attention, even if he struggled with it sometimes.

So he let her fuss.

----

He walked a step behind her, silent steps against the cracked sidewalk, slightly hunched shoulders like the whole world might take a shot at her if he didn’t keep watch. His head stayed down, just enough to keep his features shadowed, half-hidden under the baseball cap, eyes always moving, always scanning.

Inside the store, the air shifted as a stale cold pumped through a too-strong vent, and the stink of cheap detergent and raw meat carried on it. He flinched at the lights. Long, buzzing white fluorescents that made the linoleum shimmer and the corners of his vision twitch. They felt wrong. Too familiar. They belonged to damp corridors and stainless steel tables, not with frozen dinners and paper towel rolls.

“Do you want to push the cart?” she asked, almost gently, as they passed a neat row near the entrance.

He shook his head.

He didn’t want his hands full. Didn’t want his eyes away of her. Couldn’t push that rickety thing down an aisle and track the threat level of every stranger walking too close, couldn’t focus on her and the cart at once. Couldn't let it come between him and her, even metaphorically.

She gave him a tiny nod and moved on.

She talked a little as she walked, muttered to herself more than to him. Something about the price of her favorite coffee. Something about needing to remember batteries.

He stayed close, and watched her pick the things they used the most. Rice. Eggs. Consommé cubes. Toilet paper. The shampoo she liked.

He hated this place. Hated the colors, the clashing signage, the music screaming through too-old speakers. Mostly, he hated the choices. Too many brands for one thing. Rows and rows of options for cereal, bread, milk. How the fuck was someone supposed to choose between eight different types of ketchup?

It made his brain fuzz. This was the kind of overstimulation that made his skin prickle and the back of his jaw tense. More than the crowd or the noise, it was the indecision. The expectation that he should have opinions.

One afternoon, weeks ago now, she’d asked him what he liked. What kind of cereal, what kind of bread. Some brand of something he remembered. His brain had fought it -rattled against the questions like a bug in a jar- but he’d forced the answers out, one by one, stilted and unsure. Didn’t even know if they were real preferences or just echoes from whatever life he’d had before.

Still, she remembered them. Always brought home the same things after that.

Black bread. Plums, not bananas. A plain kind of cereal he vaguely recognized from somewhere old and faded in the back of his head.

When he looked up, she was already halfway down the aisle, comparing labels on a can of lentils. His feet moved without thinking.

He didn’t like this world. Didn’t trust it not to swallow her whole.

But he could walk behind her, make space for her in it.

And if he had to, he’d burn the goddamn store down to keep her safe.

“Was thinking…” she said, casually as they turned toward the vegetables. “That roast beef cut you brought the other day, what do you prefer to go with it? Baked potatoes or maybe some kind of salad? Was thinking of making it for dinner.”

He almost answered but got caught in the choices. Neither was what he wanted.

Not exactly.

What came to mind was the creamy gratin potatoes she’d made once. He’d eaten so much he’d ended up unwell, with a tight stomach and nausea, but he couldn’t stop swallowing. He hadn’t tasted anything that good in- hell, maybe ever.

But, she hadn’t offered that.

He looked down, slowed down a little. His left foot bounced once, then again with jittery energy. Because he couldn’t ask unless the door had already been opened.

She glanced up and noticed the stall. “Okay, let’s not lie to ourselves,” she chuckled, nudging her shoulder lightly into his arm. “We both know neither of us wants the salad.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Barely.

“But,” she continued, reaching for a bag of carrots, “maybe you want something else with the potatoes? Like sweet potatoes? Or carrots?”

His foot bounced again. She’d made room. She had said something else.

That counted.

He forced himself to breathe slowly, then tried to speak. “C-cream.”

The music overhead flared with some fast, pop beat, and two people walked too close, chattering in tandem. She didn’t catch it.

“Come again?” she asked, frowning slightly, leaning in.

His voice faltered worse the second time. “C-cream.”

Confused at first, she cocked her head, then her face lit with recognition.

“Oh. You want creamy potatoes?”

He gave a short, jerky nod without eye contact. His gaze was fixed on the crate of yams.

She smiled. “Well, the weather’s perfect for those. Let’s grab the ingredients then.”

He started to follow, but she stopped him, brushing his arm softly.

“It’s getting a little crowded,” she said casually, like it wasn’t to spare him. “Why don’t you pick the potatoes, and I’ll go grab the cream?”

He hated it. Hated the way she disappeared even for a second, the blind curve around the shelf where he couldn’t see her. But he’d asked for the recipe. This was his fault. His choice.

----

The song changed again. A strident thing, percussive and synthetic. He couldn’t make out most of the lyrics, but the few words that pierced through were so graphic, so crass, that it made him frown.

A shopping cart scraped into his hip, an old woman too focused on a can of peas to notice or care. He stepped back, but it wasn’t enough. A group of teens clustered by the freezers, laughing, one of them doing some exaggerated dance. Their voices spiked, pitchy and close. It was getting harder to filter. To aisle it all away.

Every sound hit him at once. The beep of the checkout, the rustle of plastic bags, a baby’s distant scream. A cough. Shoes squeaking on tile. Too many variables. Too many directions.

And his hearing, fuck, his hearing. The enhancement that had once been an asset was turning on him now, dragging in every little noise and shuffle like a sensory avalanche. His breath caught, his chest clenched.

His neck prickled as the collar of his jacket suddenly felt too close to it, even without being clasped. The fluorescent lights above his head buzzed with a low whine no one else would ever notice, but it was drilling into the base of his skull.

He dropped the bag of potatoes. Didn’t remember picking it up.

His left hand clenched and unclenched, metal whining softly in his glove.

Tunnel vision.

Too loud. Too close. The smell of bleach and citrus cleaner hit his nose with a chemical punch.

He didn’t see her at first -he was staring at the floor, blinking too fast, trying to count tiles- but then there was a voice. Her voice. Low. Measured.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m back.”

He didn’t look up.

She hesitated only a beat, then her tone turned even gentler. “I’m gonna take your hand, okay?”

He gave the smallest nod. Couldn’t form words.

Her fingers found his, and she wrapped her hand around his gloved one.

“Let’s go outside,” she said.

He followed.

He couldn’t think enough to object. Not really. But halfway to the door-

“The- the cart. You- your stuff. You need-”

“It’s okay,” she said. “None of that matters right now.”

“But the- you needed… pads. You said-”

“I’ll get them later. Doesn’t matter.”

The door hissed shut behind them, cutting off the store’s fluorescent chaos, but the world outside was no kinder. Cars roared in blurs of chrome and dust, someone cackled too loudly at the corner, a dog barked, and a horn screamed two blocks away. His head jerked slightly at each sound, pupils blown wide, chest stuttering like a misfiring engine.

She followed his gaze and saw what he saw: everything, all at once. There was nowhere to look that didn’t demand alertness.

He needed out.

She didn’t ask this time. Just tugged gently on his hand -come with me- and steered him toward the far edge of the parking lot, away from the doors, away from the cars, toward the quieter, cracked pavement behind the dumpsters where no one went unless they had to.

He followed her, but his steps were uneven, like his feet weren’t connected to his body. They made it halfway before his knees gave in.

He stumbled and she moved to catch him, but he was already going down. He sank to the curb and folded in on himself, burying his face in his forearm, shaking.

She dropped beside him without a word and tried to pull him into a hug, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, the other over his ribs, but the angle was awkward, and his body was too rigid, too twisted.

God. Was she making it worse?

But then, then he moved.

Not away, but into her. He turned and curled himself tighter, all the way down to the pavement, resting his head heavily in her lap. His arms wrapped around her waist with a desperation that stole her breath.

He pressed his face into her belly, tucking his nose just beneath her sweater, and held on like the world was ending.

And maybe, in his head, it was.

“Hey,” she whispered, moving her fingers without thinking, smoothing the damp hair from his forehead, trailing down to rub slow circles between his shoulder blades. “Darling, you need to breathe. You’re safe. You’re okay. No one’s here. Just me.”

She then rocked him gently, threading her fingers through the long strands of his hair again, brushing her thumb behind his ear.

He didn’t answer, didn’t lift his face, but his grip closed on her.

“I swear you’re safe. Why don’t you tell me five things you can see right now if you open your eyes?” she asked softly.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, curled against her, breathing erratically. But her hand kept tracing lazy lines on his scalp, his back soothing him. She didn’t rush him.

Then, slowly, he shifted. Pulled his face back an inch, then two, opening his eyes a little.

“Your sweater,” he murmured in a raw and cracked voice. “Y-your face… and…” his gaze twitched, shaky. “The buttons on your jacket.”

She nodded, brushing the hair back from his temple again. “That’s good, sweetheart. You’re doing so good. Two more.”

He swallowed hard. His eyes drifted upward, unfocused, then narrowed.

“There’s… a discount sign on the brick wall,” he muttered. “Up there.”

“Good. One more.”

He squinted. And then, grimacing faintly “I think a fucking roach is walking across the sign.”

That startled a tiny huff of breath from her. Not quite a laugh, but the ghost of one. “Gross. Okay, four things you can touch?”

His arms were still around her waist. His fingers twitched a little. “Y-you. The ground. My gloves. Your… jeans.” His face shifted slightly, grazing the fabric.

“You’re doing great,” she breathed. “Three things you can hear?”

He closed his eyes, listening. “You,” he said instantly. “The wind. And… a cart wheel. Someone left a cart rolling.”

“That’s it, you are almost there.”

He nodded slowly. His breathing began to even out, each exhale longer than the last. His shoulders dropped half an inch, then another. Still curled, but not so tightly. Still holding her, but not clinging for dear life.

“Two things you can smell?” she prompted.

“Your shampoo,” he rasped. “And… thrash.”

“Yeah,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “We’ll sit somewhere nicer next time.”

His lips twitched. Barely, but she saw it.

“One thing you can taste?”

He blinked. Swallowed. “Adrenaline.”

She nodded again and leaned forward, pressing her lips to the crown of his head. “You’re back.”

He nodded a second time, firmer, and his hands loosened around her middle.

The silence stretched, but this one was bearable.

He didn’t speak. But when he shifted again, and rested his temple against her belly instead of trying to burrow in. Like he could breathe now. Like the world had stopped ending.

----

The door clicked shut behind them, and she turned the lock, slowly and deliberately, the way she always did: two twists, one check. But his body didn’t relax. If anything, it tensed more.

He didn’t wait, didn’t look at her. Just walked straight to his room like he was being marched, boots silent against the floor, hands fisted inside the gloves he hadn't even taken off.

He opened the door, didn’t turn the lights on, and sat on the bed.

His lungs felt like they were trying to crawl up his throat. His back still buzzed where she'd touched him, where her hands had drawn him back from the edge, but that comfort only made his shame deeper.

He hadn’t just glitched out in public. He’d done it in front of her.

In the dark, it was harder to tell what time it was, what place.

One part of him knew: he was in her apartment, safe -safe-with walls painted in warm tones, the faint smell of coffee and hand cream and the shampoo she used.

The other part, the one rewired by Hydra, was screaming.

Because he had failed.

The mission wasn’t to shop. The mission was her.

Surveillance. Security. Deterrence. Control.

That was his job. That was why he allowed himself to be outside. Why he tolerated the lights, the noise, the civilians.

And what did he do? He gave her a panic attack in a fucking vegetables aisle. Gave her the thrill of guiding a grown man out of a meltdown while people gawked and carts squealed past like nothing was wrong.

He’d been focused inward instead of outward. He hadn’t clocked the teenage group circling back near her purse, hadn’t checked the blind spot near the fridges, because he had a meltdown and ended up curled up like a fucking child behind a dumpster, hyperventilating while she -she- knelt in the gravel beside him and cooed like he was some poor mangled dog.

His shoulder twitched. He ripped off the gloves and flung them onto the bed. Then followed the jacket, and the cap.

Too hot. Too tight.

He pressed his fists to his temples.

If he couldn’t operate as a man, and now couldn’t even function as a weapon, then what was left?

The Soldat would never have let her get out of sight. Would have kept himself two paces behind, scanned every face, predicted every variable. Would’ve taken a bullet without blinking, slit a throat in silence, hauled her over his shoulder and extracted with precision.

But he -whatever this version of him was now- wasn’t capable of even picking potatoes without falling apart.

He dropped to the floor, resting his back against the bed. Sank his head into his hands. Titanium fingers pressed to his temple, not hard enough to bruise, but closely.

He could still feel the warmth of her thigh against his face, the way she let him curl in like he belonged there. Like she wanted him there.

But she didn’t sign up for this.

She brought in a stray, with some moral obligation rooted in something that happened about sixty years ago, and he didn’t even remember. And now she was elbows-deep in someone else’s wreckage, buying extra food and necessities for a man who couldn’t remember how to grocery shop.

She’d come in soon. Knock. Maybe ask if he wanted tea or if he was hungry. She always did. Even now, after that mess.

But-

How long until it was too much?

How long before she wanted her life back, clean, ordinary, undisturbed?

How long before she realized the thing she dragged through her door wasn’t a man at all, but a half-operating weapon, sharp in all the wrong ways, and useless in every right one?

He pressed the heels of his hands harder into his eyes until he saw stars.

Maybe she was already realizing it. Maybe today was the beginning of the end.

----

She didn’t follow him.

The instinct was there, of course it was, an ache to reach for him when he tore away down the hall like something was chasing him. But she stayed still.

He needed space. He always needed space. That was one of the first things she’d learned: how he stiffened when she stood too close to him in the first days, and sometimes it still happened. How long it had taken for him to even sit on the same couch without bracing for some invisible blow. Physical contact wasn’t normal for him. It had meaning. A cost.

Which is why what happened earlier somehow haunted her.

She didn’t think at that moment near the dumpster. Didn’t weigh it or ask for permission. He’d been curled in on himself like a dying thing, and her arms had moved before her brain caught up. She’d touched his back, his hair, pulled him into her lap like he was hers to comfort. Like that would be okay.

And he had leaned into her. Nestled his face into her belly, wrapped his arms around her waist, trembling and broken.

But what if-

Her hand twitched. She turned the kettle on.

What if he hadn’t wanted her hands there at all, hadn’t wanted her breath on his skin, her voice in his ear? What if he endured it, like a cornered animal pressing into warmth because it couldn’t run?

She’d spent a lot of time learning his rhythms, never pushing. Letting him come to her in small ways when he felt comfortable. He wasn’t tactile. He didn’t initiate. He had started to follow and trail her, bordering on obsessive, but never touching her.

Until today.

The kettle shrieked. She clicked it off quickly before the noise could reach him, and poured the water over the tea bag with careful hands. Chamomile.

She added a splash of milk, since she had learnt he fancied it like that.

Her knuckles rapped softly against his door.

“Bucky?” she murmured. “I made you tea. It’s… chamomile. You don’t have to open the door, I just- I wanted you to know.”

Silence.

She didn’t expect an answer. Not really. But her stomach still twisted when there wasn’t one.

“I’m sorry if I… overstepped. Back there,” she added quietly, “First asking you to come with me, and then- then you looked like you were drowning. And I just… I didn’t think and touched you. I’m really sorry.”

She waited one more second, then another, then bent down slowly to leave the tea on the floor outside his door, right beside the frame. The mug made a soft tap against the hardwood.

Then she walked away.

----

He’d known she’d come. The way she hesitated at the threshold, the way her footsteps paused like she was holding herself back. He knew her mannerisms by now. Kindness was always on a delay, like she had to convince herself it was okay to offer it.

But what he hadn’t expected was the apology.

Her voice had been soft, careful, like she didn’t want to spook him. Like he was a half-wild animal crouched behind the door, which, frankly, wasn’t far off.

She apologized to him. For holding him. For touching his hair like it were something worth soothing. For making herself small and warm and soft in a filthy parking lot while he broke down like a malfunctioning relic. Like it was her mistake to reach for him when he’d been shaking so hard he couldn’t see straight.

His fingers curled tighter into the fabric of his jeans. Titanium groaned against flesh.

She had no idea.

No fucking idea what kind of thing she’d brought into her home.

He wasn’t her roommate. He wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t even a person half the time, not in ways that mattered. He was a machine gone haywire, with its instructions mangled. Hydra’s fist, and he couldn’t even keep her safe in a grocery store.

And she was sorry?

He still could hear the soft clink of the mug being set down outside. Like he was a goddamn ghost she didn’t want to offend.

Maybe he was. A haunting. A sickness. Her sickness.

Because she had to be sick, to keep choosing this. To feed it, to clothe it, to let it live down the hall and act like that wasn’t terrifying. Like it didn’t bleed danger with every breath, with every flinch, every half-forgotten reflex.

She didn’t really know what he’d been built to do. Half the things he’d done. She only saw the aftermath. The broken thing.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to breathe.

He didn’t deserve to be there. Or the apology. Or the goddamn chamomile.

But he still reached for the doorknob.

He turned it slowly. Barely breathing.

The hallway beyond was empty. She’d already walked away.

Of course, she had. She always gave him space. Always let him come to her like some half-wild thing that needed coaxing.

He knelt. Picked it up.

Warm. She’d timed it right. Like she always did.

He shut the door again before he even took a sip, as if maybe the shame would be less heavy if no one saw.

And then, sitting on the floor like a child in hiding, with his back pressed to the door she had just stood behind, he lifted it to his mouth.

The chamomile was faint and soft, with that trace of milk she knew he liked, he didn’t even remember telling her that.

His chest ached with the smallness of the gesture. The intimacy of being known, even a little.

He drank all of it, like a selfish thing.

How long?

How long until she has enough?

Until the kindness runs dry, and the silence between them becomes something final?

Until she stops knocking? Stop making tea? Until she comes to realize her mistake?

Next Chapter

Taglist: @pandaxnienke @queergalpal97 @mrsalexstan @escapefromrealitylol @bodhisattva11 @kittieboo @iyskgd @stell404 @lil-riddle-kiddle @maryevm @yindoesstuff @shaheea @maladaptive0romantic @cricket-reader @nynxtea @justalittlebitbored @icefox8155

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[paxaz535]

CONTROL

reader x nika x paige x azzi , poly (yay) , vibrators used , for all my horny gals

You and Nika were at your apartment. It wasn’t until last night that you and Nika were feeling things you hadn’t brought up.

You felt like ever since you, her, paige and azzi been fucking around on each other, it’s starting to become serious. Become… real. You felt it. You wondered of Nika felt it too.

You were starting to catch feelings for both Azzi and Paige. You still loved Nika, always. She will forever be your number one… but being with paige and azzi doesn’t sound so bad.

“You’re thinking.” Nika stated.

You sighed and turned to her, “Yeah.”

She looked at you, her pretty brown eyes never leaving yours. “About them?”

You looked down and bit your lip, nodding. You expected her to be upset, maybe uncomfortable but she kept her face the same way.

“Me too.”

That’s what threw you off guard.

You looked up, your face a little stunned. Nika chuckled before nodding, “Yeah. I know what you’re thinking, baby.”

You looked at her longer this time. Not just at her face, but at the way her body relaxed the second she admitted it. Like saying it out loud lifted something heavy from both your chests.

“You do?” you asked, voice smaller than you meant it to be.

Nika leaned back against the headboard, arms resting behind her head. Her gaze never left yours.

“Of course I do,” she said. “You think I didn’t see the way Paige touches you when she thinks no one’s looking? Or the way Azzi watches you like she’s trying not to fall in love too fast?”

You swallowed. She was right. But hearing her say it out loud made it real.

“You’re not mad?” you asked, cautious.

Nika shook her head slowly. “I’m not mad. Just… confused, maybe. Like, how the fuck did we get here?”

You laughed once, quietly, because same.

“But I’m not jealous,” she added, softer this time. “Because I still have you. You’re still mine. That’s not changing.”

You crawled toward her a little, heart thudding.

“You still want me?”

“Always,” Nika said without missing a beat.

“Even if… I want them too?”

She didn’t answer right away. She sat up instead, cupped your cheek, and kissed you like she needed you to feel the answer, not hear it.

When she pulled back, she whispered:

“I do too. I think I want all of it.”

You closed your eyes, letting that sink in. Four people. Messy, complicated, beautiful.

“So what do we do?” you whispered.

Nika smiled, leaning her forehead to yours.

“We stop pretending. And we ask them if they want it too.”

You opened your eyes. “What if they don’t?”

She kissed your cheek. “Then we fuck each other in front of them until they change their minds.”

You laughed, burying your face in her neck. God, you loved her.

“But if they do…” she added, voice low and warm, “then baby, we get to make this real.”

You pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again.

“I think I want that.”

“Then let’s find out.”

—

3 Days Later

The four of you were crammed onto your couch like always—takeout boxes open on the coffee table, some random show playing in the background that none of you were actually watching.

Paige was sitting in the middle with Azzi curled into her side, legs tucked under her. You and Nika shared the other end, your thigh thrown over hers, her arm stretched across the back of the couch like a quiet claim.

It felt… normal. Or, at least, what normal had become.

Everyone was touching. Everyone was close.

And it was starting to feel like a lie to call it casual.

You’d caught Azzi watching you earlier—really watching—when you got up to grab water. Her eyes had lingered a little too long. Paige noticed. Didn’t say a word. Just smirked into her drink like she already knew.

Now Nika leaned in, close enough that only you could hear her.

“Should we do it now?”

You glanced at her. Heart in your throat. Then nodded.

She shifted forward a little, resting her forearms on her knees, voice calm, casual.

“So,” she said, like she was just tossing it out there. “Can we talk about something?”

Paige looked over, eyebrow lifted. “Sounds serious.”

“Kinda is,” Nika said. “It’s about… us.”

Azzi blinked, then slowly sat up straighter.

You spoke next, fingers laced with Nika’s now. “We were just wondering if any of you… have been feeling like this is more than just sex.”

The room fell quiet. Not tense. Just still.

Azzi was the first to speak.

“I’ve been scared to say it,” she admitted. “But yeah. It’s starting to feel like… more.”

Paige didn’t hesitate either.

“You’re not crazy,” she said. “I’ve been feeling it too.”

Your breath left you all at once. Nika’s hand squeezed yours, grounding.

“We don’t wanna stop,” you said softly. “Not with each other. Not with you guys. But we also don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

Azzi looked between you and Nika. “So what are you saying?”

Nika leaned back, letting her words land slow and careful.

“We want all of it. You. Each other. Us—all of us. If you want it too.”

Paige smiled first. Big, slow, and unbothered.

“Took y’all long enough.”

Azzi let out a breathy laugh, eyes warm.

“Yeah,” she said. “We want it too.”

And just like that, it was decided.

No fanfare. No big declarations. Just four people sitting close, like they always had been—only now, with everything out in the open.

Real. Tangled. Theirs.

-

“Ughhh, I do not wanna go. The bus ride is like six hours long!”

You flopped back on the couch, dramatically groaning about how the whole team had to take a bus trip for some random photo shoot that had to be done. A six-hour ride? In a bus? It sounded miserable.

“Well, baby, we have to go,” Nika said, stuffing a pair of socks into her suitcase without looking up. “Geno’s literally forcing us.”

Footsteps echoed down the stairs.

“Six hours for a photo shoot is insane… is it not?” Azzi asked, arms stretching over her head as she joined you. You turned toward her with a matching “right?” look on your face.

“You guys are so dramatic,” Paige called from the couch, standing and stretching. “It won’t be that bad.”

You and Azzi shot her a synchronized deadpan stare.

She just smirked. “Hey, at least we’ll be with the team.”

“Exactly,” you said flatly.

“And more importantly,” Paige added, “we’ll be with each other. How’s that sound?”

Azzi considered it. “Eh.”

The three of you gasped like she’d just told you she hated puppies.

“Wow, Az.” You spoke. Azzi’s mouth dropped, “You were just on my side!” She spoke. You just let out a sigh and turned away.

Nika laughed but her face changed. Paige clocked it, “Uh oh. What are you thinking about, Nik?”

She smirked, “What if we make the bus ride… interesting?”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Define interesting.”

Nika’s grin was all mischief now, the kind that made you nervous and turned on at the same time. She tossed her socks into the suitcase and turned to the rest of you, arms crossed, like she was about to pitch something illegal.

“Okay. Hear me out,” she said. “We each wear one.”

Azzi blinked. “One what?”

Nika raised her brows meaningfully. “A vibrator.”

Paige snorted, then immediately covered her mouth, clearly intrigued. You stared at her, mouth open.

“On the bus?” you asked.

“Mhm.” Nika looked proud. “Low setting, nothing crazy. Just… a little pressure. Just enough to keep you squirming.”

Azzi’s eyes lit up way too fast. “That sounds—”

“Insane,” you finished for her.

“Hot,” she corrected with a grin.

Paige finally dropped onto the bed beside Nika, laughing. “So what, we just edge ourselves the whole ride?”

“Nah,” Nika said, walking closer to where you were sitting and leaning down to brush a finger along your jaw. “It’s a competition. Whoever taps out first…”

“Taps out?” you asked, pulse kicking up.

“Yeah,” Paige caught on, leaning forward. “Whoever pulls theirs out first. Or begs for mercy. Or makes a noise someone else on the bus hears.”

“Loses,” Nika finished. “And has to watch the other three fuck later. No touching. Just watching.”

The room was dead silent for a moment.

Then Azzi nodded slowly. “I’m so in.”

Paige grinned. “Same.”

You swallowed. Hard. “What if I lose on purpose?”

Nika smirked. “Then you better be real quiet about it, baby.”

—

It was somehow worse—and better—than you expected.

The bus was full, just like you feared. Teammates were scattered from front to back, some with headphones in, others chatting quietly or munching on snacks. The team manager was already asleep two rows up. Geno was glued to his phone. Nobody cared what you were doing in the very back corner.

Which was good.

Because every single one of you was already plugged in.

You sat in the last two rows, split across the aisle—Paige and Azzi on one side, you and Nika on the other. Diagonal, which felt unfair, because you could see each other. You could watch.

Each of you had slipped on the remote-controlled vibrators earlier, tucked into the bathroom stalls in pairs under the excuse of last-minute peeing. Nika had handed you yours with a kiss on your neck and the softest “Don’t embarrass yourself, babe.”

Now here you all were. Four people, four toys. All on the lowest setting.

But the lowest setting didn’t mean easy.

You had a hoodie draped over your lap. Nika looked like she didn’t even know what a vibrator was—legs stretched long, earbuds in, scrolling her phone like the back of the bus wasn’t pulsing with suppressed tension. She hadn’t even looked at you yet. Just bumped your level up twice already from the remote in her pocket. The casual evil of it.

Azzi had her arms crossed and her hood up, but her leg was bouncing and her eyes were glassy. Every few seconds she pressed her thighs together and exhaled like she could will the sensation away.

Paige? Paige looked like she was feeding off this. She had the remote for Azzi and herself, one in each hand, flicking through levels like she was tuning a radio. Azzi kept slapping her thigh when it got too much.

“You’re gonna make me moan,” Azzi whispered through clenched teeth.

“That’s the point, baby,” Paige whispered back, eyes gleaming.

Across the aisle, Nika finally turned to you. Her brows lifted.

“You good?”

You nodded stiffly, hands in fists under the hoodie. “So good.”

“Liar,” she whispered, then turned your level up again.

You hissed—sharply, right through your teeth—and grabbed her thigh.

“Nika—fuck, stop doing that.”

She leaned in, grinning against your ear.

“Then stop making that little face when you squirm.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

You were. You knew you were.

Suddenly a soft thud came from across the aisle. Azzi had kicked the seat in front of her.

“Jesus, Az,” Paige muttered. “Subtle.”

Azzi groaned, low and pained. “I can’t. You turned me up and didn’t turn it back down.”

“Aww, poor baby,” Nika cooed, making her voice all soft and patronizing.

Azzi gave her the finger.

You were about to laugh—until Nika turned her remote up again.

And now you were the one jerking in your seat, breath catching audibly in your throat.

It was too loud.

From the row in front of you, KK turned around slowly. Her eyebrows rose.

“Y’all good back there?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Nika elbowed you gently.

“Yeah,” she answered smoothly. “She dropped her phone.”

KK looked at you, then Azzi—who looked like she was in pain.

Paige piped up. “She’s carsick. She gets like this sometimes.”

KK blinked.

You nodded, too quickly. “Yep. Just motion sickness. Dramamine’s kicking in.”

There was a beat.

Then KK shrugged. “Mm. Y’all are weird.” She turned back around.

The second her head turned, everyone exhaled like you’d survived a bomb scare.

Azzi turned to Paige with a wild look in her eye. “You’re so lucky I didn’t lose right then.”

“You won’t,” Paige whispered, smug. “I’m not done with you.”

Paige hadn’t touched her own settings yet. She looked fine. Maybe too fine.

Nika noticed.

“I feel like Paige is cheating,” she said, lazily scrolling through her Spotify playlist.

“I’m pacing myself,” Paige replied, eyes sharp. “Y’all are gonna burn out.”

That was fair.

Because you were already struggling, and you could tell Azzi was too.

Azzi turned to you, breathless. “You better tap out before I do.”

“Hell no.”

“You look like you’re gonna cry.”

“I am gonna cry. Out of rage. If I lose first, I swear to god—”

Nika reached over and cranked your setting to max.

Your words cut off. Your back arched off the seat. The hoodie fell off your lap.

“Nika!” you hissed, scrambling to pull it back up.

“You were getting mouthy,” she said, all fake-innocence.

Azzi cackled—until her setting spiked too. Paige was still watching you, her thumb on Azzi’s remote like it had a mind of its own.

“We’re gonna die back here,” Azzi groaned, half-laughing, half-whimpering.

“That’s the idea,” Nika said coolly.

You gripped her hand and whispered through clenched teeth, “You better not let me lose first.”

Nika just smiled. “Then don’t come, baby.”

-

The bus rolled on.

Mile after mile of trees and highway passed in a blur, but back in the last two rows, time felt slow. Heavy with heat and tension and low, buzzing pleasure.

You were holding on by a thread. Azzi didn’t look much better. Both of you were flushed, stiff in your seats, trying so hard not to move. Not to make a sound. Not to give anything away.

That’s when Paige shifted suddenly and leaned into Azzi.

“Hey,” she murmured. “Hold this for me.”

She held out her remote—the one linked to her own vibrator.

Azzi blinked. “Wait… you want me to—?”

“Control me. Go crazy. Just don’t blow our cover.”

Azzi looked dazed. But she took the remote anyway, hand closing around it like it might bite her. Paige stretched back into her seat, legs wide, arms crossed behind her head like she was settling in for a nap.

Azzi stared at the little dial, then flicked it once—barely off the lowest level.

Paige didn’t flinch.

Azzi flicked it again. And again.

By the third notch, Paige’s jaw flexed.

“That’s more like it,” Azzi said under her breath, a little smug now. “Let’s see you squirm for once.”

On your side of the aisle, Nika was watching the whole exchange with interest. She turned to you, eyes glittering.

“You want mine too?”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“My remote,” she said, pulling it from her pocket and spinning it around her fingers. “Wanna make me suffer for a little?”

You stared. You were already flushed, shaking, barely holding on—and now she wanted to hand you the power?

“You’re evil,” you whispered.

“So take it, baby.”

You reached for it—and Nika didn’t break eye contact as she slid the remote into your hand, brushing your fingers on purpose. Her voice dropped to a hush.

“Make me regret it.”

You were so going to.

The second it was yours, you cranked her setting one click above yours.

Nika’s expression didn’t change at first—she just shifted in her seat a little. Crossed one leg over the other. You watched her carefully, looking for the cracks.

Then you turned it up again.

Still nothing.

“You’re not human,” you muttered.

She smirked. “You’ll get me eventually.”

“Promise?”

“If you don’t tap out first.”

Challenge accepted.

You leaned into her space, keeping your voice low. “I know what yours feels like. I know what it does to you.”

Nika swallowed.

You caught it.

Then, across the aisle—

“Mmmff—”

Azzi slapped a hand over Paige’s mouth.

“Shut up!” she hissed. “You’re gonna blow our cover.”

Paige was practically vibrating in her seat, back arched just slightly, fists gripping the hem of her shorts. Her eyes were wide, stunned, and a little glassy.

Azzi looked so proud.

“Oh, you’re struggling,” she said softly, biting back a grin.

Paige glared, jaw clenched, but didn’t say anything. Just held on.

Until Azzi pushed the dial again.

Paige jolted—too hard.

A loud thump echoed as her knee hit the seat in front of her.

“Shit—”

KK turned around immediately.

Her eyebrows rose again. “Y’all good back there?”

All four of you froze.

You tried to speak, but Nika beat you to it—voice calm, smooth, even a little bored.

“Dropped a water bottle.”

Paige nodded too quickly. “Totally. All good.”

KK narrowed her eyes. Then pointed. “Y’all actin’ real weird.”

You gave her a tight smile. “Motion sickness.”

KK stared at you.

Then—thank god—she rolled her eyes and turned back around.

The second she was gone, the four of you broke.

Azzi wheezed into Paige’s shoulder, Paige looked like she was praying, you were clutching the remote like a lifeline, and Nika finally twitched in her seat.

“Got you,” you whispered.

She turned her head slowly, a bead of sweat just barely at her temple.

“You asshole.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe.”

You flicked her level up once more.

Nika’s thighs pressed together.

Victory.

Across the aisle, Paige was panting. “Okay, okay, pause. Azzi, pause it. Just for like, five minutes.”

Azzi gave her the most evil smirk. “Nope.”

“I will moan your name on this bus.”

“Okay—okay fine,” Azzi said, laughing, and dialed her down a few notches. “You win for now.”

Nika looked at you and then at Azzi. “It’s giving top energy.”

Azzi grinned. “She likes it when I win.”

Paige leaned over, flushed and breathless. “She’s lying. I’m gonna ruin her later.”

You stared between them, heart pounding, thighs sore from holding tension for so long. The remotes were still in your hands. Nika’s chest was rising slightly faster now. Paige looked ready to fold.

And there were still four hours left on this damn ride.

-

The hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of a snack wrapper were the only sounds outside of your four-person chaos.

Everyone was sweating, in different ways.

You leaned against the window, cool glass doing absolutely nothing for the way your core pulsed with need. The remote in your hand—it felt like holding a live wire. You kept your thumb hovering over the dial, taunting Nika with slow, steady increases. Never all at once. You wanted to watch her unravel.

Across the aisle, Azzi had her fingers cradling Paige’s remote like it was the most precious thing she’d ever owned. Paige had tried pretending she was fine. She really had. But now her legs were spread too far, her chest was rising too fast, and she was chewing on the drawstring of her hoodie to stay quiet.

You glanced at Azzi and nodded.

She cranked it up—just half a click.

Paige’s eyes rolled.

“F-fuck,” she hissed under her breath.

You and Azzi both grinned.

But then Nika reached over—and without a word—plucked her remote back out of your hand.

“You had your fun,” she whispered.

You blinked. “You’re—”

She reached around and slipped her hand beneath your hoodie. Not far. Just low enough to ghost her fingers over the top of your thigh, too close to where you were throbbing from the toy.

“My turn again.”

She upped your setting to match hers. Then, without breaking eye contact, she tapped it one notch higher.

You flinched so hard your knee knocked the seat in front of you.

“God—”

KK’s head turned again.

“Y’all seriously okay back there?”

This time it was Azzi who saved you. “Sorry. Paige dropped a bag of M&Ms.”

KK squinted. “It sounded like a body dropped.”

Paige gave her a thumbs up. “All good, KK. Promise.”

She gave a slow, skeptical nod before turning back again.

You were still clenching every muscle in your body. The hoodie over your lap hid nothing now—your thighs were shaking, jaw tight, eyes glassy.

“I hate you,” you whispered to Nika.

“You love me.”

“I can’t keep sitting like this.”

“Then move.”

“If I move, I’ll come.”

“So don’t.”

You groaned, pushing your face into her shoulder. She laughed softly and kissed the top of your head, fingers brushing along the outside of your thigh again—soft, almost caring.

Across the aisle, Azzi had gone quiet.

Too quiet.

You looked up to see her sitting stiffly, hands braced on her knees. Her hoodie had fallen off her shoulders. Paige was watching her like a hawk, eyes narrowed.

“She’s doing it to herself now,” Paige whispered, low and smug.

“No I’m not,” Azzi shot back, flustered.

“Oh, you so are.”

You leaned toward her. “Azzi… what level are you on?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Paige’s grin stretched. “She’s at eight.”

“Azzi.”

“It’s not that bad,” she muttered.

“You’re sweating.”

Azzi looked at all of you. “Okay but like, if I tap out now… y’all will not let me forget it.”

Paige reached over, cupped her jaw, and kissed her cheek.

“Damn right we won’t.”

“We’re holding the line,” Nika added, pressing the remote tighter into your thigh.

You whimpered again. So much for being the smug one.

“Fuck this bus ride,” you muttered.

“Two more hours,” Azzi said, gritting her teeth. “We just have to survive two more hours.”

“Or less,” Paige added. “If someone breaks.”

You all looked around, eyes jumping from face to face.

Who was going to lose it first?

-

It was Azzi who said it first.

“Let’s level it.”

You blinked. “Level what?”

“Everyone. All four. Max it out. No cheats, no teasing. Just straight to twelve.”

A beat of silence.

Even Paige looked up, eyes flickering with surprise. “That’s suicide.”

Azzi shrugged, though her knuckles were white where they gripped Paige’s remote. “Maybe. Or maybe someone breaks.”

You could barely think. You were still throbbing at level nine, and it felt like your body had been coiled like a spring for the last hour.

Nika leaned forward, eyes dark. “Twelve?”

Azzi nodded. “Twelve.”

Paige smirked. “You’re gonna regret this.”

“I already do,” Azzi hissed, but she didn’t back down.

All of you looked around. Nobody said no.

So it happened.

One by one, every remote clicked up.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

And suddenly the entire back row of the bus was an oven of silent, vibrating agony.

Your back arched instantly. The buzz was no longer a soft, teasing hum—it was a roar. You clenched your thighs together, face buried in Nika’s hoodie now, your body begging for release. But you held on. Barely.

Across from you, Paige was red-faced, jaw locked, her nails digging into her seat cushion. Azzi was trembling, shoulders pressed hard into the window, one hand over her mouth, the other still squeezing Paige’s remote like she could crush it into dust.

Nika… was sweating.

For once, your unbothered girlfriend looked wrecked. Her breathing was ragged, lips parted, eyes unfocused. But she still had her hand on your thigh. Still kept your hoodie in place, still whispered in your ear—

“No tapping out. Not yet.”

You shook your head. You couldn’t even speak.

Time stopped meaning anything. It was just you and the deep, pulsing, relentless pressure threatening to undo you right there on that damn team bus. Every bump in the road made it worse. Every sigh, every moan, every choked breath from one of you… it all added fuel to the fire.

“I’m gonna die,” Paige muttered.

“Same,” Azzi whimpered.

“Don’t you fucking quit,” Nika said through gritted teeth.

You weren’t sure if she was talking to you or herself.

Then—

BANG.

Paige’s foot hit the wall of the bus.

Hard.

Everyone jumped.

KK turned again, this time with real suspicion. “Okay, what the hell is happening back there?”

You all scrambled.

“Spider!” you blurted.

“It was HUGE,” Nika added, wiping sweat from her brow.

“It’s gone now,” Azzi said way too fast.

KK looked like she was doing math in her head.

“Y’all sound like you’re fighting ghosts.”

You gave her your best deadpan face. “That’s what it feels like.”

She stared another second… then turned back around.

You all stayed frozen.

Every one of you was so close.

Every twitch, every wave of vibration was another second closer to disaster.

Paige was shaking.

Azzi had tears in her eyes.

Nika was clenching her jaw so tight her cheek twitched.

And you—

You were right there.

Any second now.

But no one said the word.

No one quit.

Not yet.

-

It happened all at once.

You don’t know who let go first—maybe you, maybe Azzi—but it was like a damn chain reaction. A series of silent detonations in the back of that bus.

You felt it swell in your gut, impossibly strong. Your hands gripped the seat, your hoodie pressed to your face as your whole body tensed and shook, thighs clamping down over the toy that had been relentlessly bullying your clit for over an hour. You couldn’t stop it—you didn’t want to stop it. You came so hard your vision blacked out.

And then—

“Fuck—”

Nika’s whisper was sharp, strangled.

You turned just in time to see her fall back against the seat, head tilted, mouth open, breath catching in her throat. Her legs spread a little wider without her realizing. Her hand was still on your thigh, squeezing. Barely there, barely conscious.

“No. No. No—” Paige was gasping.

She arched into the seatbelt, her hips rolling up as she came too—face red, jaw slack, hoodie almost soaked with sweat. Her hands trembled on her thighs.

Azzi was crying.

Real tears.

“I hate y’all,” she whispered as she came, curling in on herself, hands fisted into Paige’s jacket, chest heaving. “I hate you so much.”

Paige whimpered.

And then it was just… silence.

Four panting disasters in the back of a bus full of blissfully unaware teammates.

The air reeked of sweat and defeat. Your legs were jelly. Your toy was still buzzing weakly—just background noise now. You reached under the hoodie with trembling hands to shut it off, pressing your face into Nika’s neck.

“Oh my god,” you croaked.

“We’re all going to hell,” Azzi mumbled.

“No one’s allowed to talk to me,” Paige said flatly.

“No one gets laid tonight,” Nika declared, voice still hoarse.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

She looked at you with those half-lidded, post-orgasm eyes of hers and said, dead serious—

“We all lost the challenge. That was the rule.”

Paige groaned. “I forgot about the rule.”

“You made the rule,” Azzi muttered.

“Okay, but it was supposed to be funny. Now I’m horny and sad.”

You all just sat there in your pathetic little sweat-drenched circle of shame, catching your breath and trying not to laugh.

It was the dumbest thing you’d ever done.

It was maybe also the hottest.

You turned your face back into Nika’s hoodie.

“Same time next road trip?”

She smirked. “Only if we actually make it through next time.”

Paige lifted her hoodie hood over her face.

“I need a nap. And therapy.”

-

You all arrived at the hotel just before sunset, dragging your bags and your dignity across the pavement like survivors of a sex-fueled war. No one said much. The silence between you four was loud.

You were grateful Kk hadn’t caught on completely—though she was way too curious for comfort. The foot-stomping, the fake spider excuse, the suspicious looks? Way too close. You were going to need to tread lightly around her from now on.

Still, nothing stung more than the actual loss. No winner, no loser. Just four overstimulated idiots with soaked underwear and ruined pride. No one had tapped out. Which meant—per your dumb agreement—no one got touched tonight.

It was a lose-lose deal.

And everyone was mad about it.

You could feel it in the body language. Azzi kept biting her lip like she was physically holding back a tantrum. Paige had been unusually quiet, hoodie up, fists clenched in her sleeves. Nika had that look on her face like she was fighting the urge to break her own rules—and her remote.

You were no better.

Still soaked. Still frustrated. Still silently replaying the bus ride in your head like a ghost story.

The four of you stepped off the bus and stood on the curb as CD and Geno waited out front, clipboards in hand. The team was loud, spilling out of the bus in groups, chattering and stretching and making jokes about who’d be rooming with who.

“Alright!” Geno shouted, trying to rein everyone in. “You’ll all be in groups of four. One group of three. Pretty simple.”

You glanced at the girls next to you—your partners, your problems. All three were already looking back at you. You tried not to smile. Or squirm. Or drop to your knees from sheer frustration.

Please let us be together. Please. If we can’t touch, at least let us suffer in the same room.

“First group—Kk, Aubrey, Aaliyah, and Ice,” CD called out.

You exhaled. Not you. Not them.

“Next—Qadance, Ines, Jana, and Caroline.”

Another sigh. You heard the three beside you exhale too, almost in unison. Nika even crossed her fingers at her side. Paige mumbled a soft, “Come on, come on,” under her breath.

“Next—Amari, Ayanna, and Ashlynn.”

The trio. Meaning… only one group left.

Your heart skipped. If you weren’t in this next group, you’d be bunking with strangers while the others had to sneak around. You’d combust alone in some sad twin bed, listening to Nika’s voice notes like a psycho.

CD glanced at the last four names.

“Lastly—Nika, Paige, Azzi, and [ ].”

Thank God.

You didn’t even try to hide the smile.

Neither did they.

Azzi whispered a silent “Yesss” and bumped her hip into Paige’s. Nika looked smug, as if she knew the universe wouldn’t dare separate you. Paige just gave a relieved grin and slung her duffel over one shoulder, her eyes already trailing over you like a threat.

You could feel the heat building again.

The only issue? The rule still stood.

No sex. No orgasms. No touching.

Just four horny, bitter girls in one shared hotel room… all with something to prove.

And the night had only just begun.

[thunderbolt-ing]

"I Can't Do It Alone." — 4

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Fem!Reader Summary: The reader is having a very, very bad day and cannot catch a break. Being a girl's girl has consequences, apparently. Valentina's gone rogue, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse... it did. Warnings/Tags: use of y/n, very canon divergent, emotional manipulation/coercion (not sexual), enemies to allies, chaotic 'team' dynamics, hurt/comfort, the slow burn is finally burning, mild swearing, mild physical violence/injury, reader really needs a hug. (pls let me know if I missed anything) A/N: I truly put you through hell in this one, my bad. Also, Im so sorry for the wait!! it took me a little while to put everything together and have my ideas connect lmao i did not know how to get from point a to point b. this is barely proofread and i wrote some of this at like three in the morning, so i do apologize in advance for any silly mistakes Word Count: 9.1K sorry i spiraled

Hours Later Brooklyn, New York

The outreach went on in full swing, but you were gently nudged aside by a chorus of concerned interns insisting, “You look exhausted, we’ve got this.” You protested and refused, out of habit mostly, but their faces were earnest and their confidence left little room for argument. Truthfully, the exhaustion you’d been fighting off was finally catching up to you. For once, you took a step back and let them take the reins. You watched as they took over with ease, coordinating logistics, managing guest interactions, and handling the press like seasoned pros. They were young, most were barely out of university, but there was nothing inexperienced about how they carried themselves today. You’d handpicked each one, carefully vetting them like Bucky once did to you. A full circle kind of gesture, a way to pay it forward and say thank you to the universe for the life you’ve built for yourself. 

“I’ll be in the breakroom if you guys need anything,” you said to one of the senior interns, giving them a grateful pat on the back, “Just a few minutes.” “Take as much time as you need,” she replied with a reassuring smile, already turning back to her clipboard and radio.

In the breakroom, you poured yourself yet another cup of coffee, you’ve lost count at this point, and settled into one of the chairs. The bitter heat kept the exhaustion at bay once again as you settled into one of the worn chairs. You pulled out your personal phone almost on instinct, thumb hovering over the screen as you checked for any sign of Bucky. 

Nothing. No texts. No missed calls. Radio silence. 

You knew he was fine, you hoped he was fine, though you couldn’t help but feel a pit of concern in your stomach. It didn’t help knowing that he was out there apprehending potentially dangerous people. 

To distract yourself, you switched on the small TV mounted in front of you. It was background noise, you were more focused on enjoying the stillness you’ve allowed yourself for the day than actually listening, but that was until the anchor’s voice sliced through the calm like a blade. 

“Congressman Douglas Gary has called for an emergency impeachment trial, citing new and compelling evidence that directly implicates Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine in multiple federal crimes…” 

You let out a low, humorless laugh and shook your head. 

“Finally, he listens,” You muttered into the cup in your hand before changing the channel. You didn’t need to hear the rest, you already knew everything Gary was only now bringing to light. It was typical to take the evidence you and Bucky practically gift-wrapped during the gala, parade it like its his own discovery, and not even spare a damn thank you. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting a little, not for yourself, but for Bucky most of all. 

Even so, with Bucky out there tying up loose ends and Gary finally moving to reopen Valetina’s trial, you finally felt like you could have some closure. Maybe, just maybe, the chaos was winding down, and you could perhaps—

BREAKING: Mysterious Explosion Reported in Utah Desert Near Secured Vault. Sources Say Blast May Be Linked to Illegal…

The TV screen flashed red with CNN’s breaking banner, the anchor’s voice sharp and urgent. You didn’t wait for the rest as you shut the TV off and leaned back on your seat, the beginnings of a headache were starting to curl behind your eyes. You wanted peace, just five minutes of it. You wanted background noise, something mindless, something…

Buzz. Buzz. 

Your work phone vibrated softly in your blazer pocket. You sighed and picked it up unceremoniously, cradling it between your shoulder and ear as you reached for your coffee again. 

“Office of Congressman Barnes, this is Y/N speaking,” you answered, your voice laced with practiced professionalism and a hint of exhaustion. 

“Hi…Y/N?” a voice replied, uncertain and breathless. “I spoke to Congressman Barnes yesterday about some… matters. He mentioned his partner, and I was wondering… would that be you? I’m sorry if this is the wrong number, public records aren’t that accurate.”

Your brow furrowed, the voice was familiar, but shaken. Then it clicked. 

“Mel?” you asked, startled. “Is that you? Are you okay? You don’t sound—”

“Yes, it's me. I’m sorry,” she interrupted, her words coming out rapidly. “I’m using a pay phone. I can’t talk long. Can you meet me? The shawarma place near the Watchtower. Please. I think Valentina knows. I can’t risk calling Bucky. It’s urgent.” 

You were already standing. 

“Watchtower?” You echoed, grabbing your keys from the pocket of your blazer. 

“The old Avengers tower in Manhattan,” she clarified, her voice trembling, “Valentina owns it now.”

“Got it. I’m on my way. Stay put, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” 

“Thank you,” Mel whispered, and the line went dead. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Manhattan, New York

You drove like a woman possessed, weaving through traffic with the urgency of an F1 driver in the final lap. Red lights blurred past you, more than a few if you were being honest, and you were certain that at least three traffic cameras had captured your plates, but none of it mattered. Not the tickets, not the chaos, and not the consequences

All you could think about was Mel, her shaky voice, and the fear within each word she uttered. If Valentina was truly on to her, then every second counted. You could hear it in her hushed tone, in the way she could barely even utter Bucky’s name out loud on the phone. You knew she was in more danger than she was letting on. 

This wasn’t just about helping Bucky anymore, this was about Mel, a young woman’s safety. A young woman who was putting everything on the line just to feed scraps of truth behind enemy lines. The least you could do was be there, show up, and prove she wasn’t alone.

You tore through the streets, barely registering the blaring honks and the startled pedestrians who leapt out of your path. By the time you parked—if you could call abandoning your car half a block away ‘parking’—you were already sprinting and dodging commuters while muttering breathless “excuse me”s. 

You stopped at a corner, chest rising and falling as your gaze swept across the street. The Avengers Tower loomed in the distance, surrounded by cranes and partially wrapped in scaffolding. They called it the Watchtower now. You thought it was ridiculous. The distinguished Manhattan staple was now lifeless, sterile, and stripped of the charm and grandeur that Tony Stark once breathed into it. It stood like a husk on the skyline, iconic but wrong. A monument to how much everything had changed

And then your eyes found it: Shawarma Palace. It was an older space, clearly having been there for the many changes Manhattan went through. It was tucked between a laundromat and a smoke shop, its red sign standing out more than the others. You made a beeline for the door.

Your eyes scanned across the bustling establishment, heart pounding loudly in your chest. The scent of grilled meat and spices filled the air, but your senses were set on one task: finding Mel. Your eyes swept each table anxiously, trying to match faces to the blurry memory of her from the gala. You barely knew her, you’ve only heard her talk on the phone, but you remembered the way she looked that night with her dark blazer, and the way her eyes never quite settled.

Your breaths came unevenly, caught between exertion and panic as you pushed past a woman carrying a tray of shawarma wraps and sodas. Murmured conversations and the crinkle of paper faded into static, and just as anxiety threatened to rise in your throat, your gaze landed on her. Mel was tucked away in the back corner of the restaurant, half shadowed by a hanging plant and the flickering neon sign in the window.

She looked smaller than you remembered, more exhausted, too. Her shoulders were hunched, her fingers anxiously tapping the table as her eyes darted across the room, scanning the entrance every few seconds. Then they landed on you.

For a second, her whole body stilled, relief softening the tension in her brow, and you mirrored it with a quiet, shaky breath of your own. Without wasting another moment, you made your way to her, weaving past tables with urgent strides. As you slid into the seat across from her, your muscles finally began to loosen.

“I’m here,” you said softly, not realizing until that moment how badly you needed to say it. “You’re okay. I got here in time.”

Mel gave a faint nod, but the tightness in her jaw and the white-knuckled grip she had on her iced tea told you clearly that something was very, very wrong. 

“You know about The Sentry Project, right?” Mel asked abruptly, getting straight to the point, her voice low and urgent as her leg bounced anxiously under the table. 

“Somewhat,” you replied, quickly combing through your memory for the key details from the hearing. “O.X.E.’s initiative to engineer god-like beings… sort of like biological weapons wrapped in patriotism, right?”

“Exactly.” She nodded fast, relief flickering across her face for just a moment. “The project was deemed a failure. It was shut down and buried. Everyone assumed the final test subject, Bob Reynolds, died during the last trial. But he didn’t.”

You blinked, processing her words, your brows knitting in concern. Mel could see your confusion and pressed on.

“Bob turned out to be alive, and he escaped along with Val’s liabilities that I was supposed to get rid of inside that vault. I’m sure you’ve seen the headlines. That explosion in Utah? That was him.”

Your stomach dropped as your mind snapped back to the breaking news headline from earlier. The secured vault. The blast. The missing piece slid into place with a sickening click.

“And now,” she continued, her voice tightening, “Val’s got hold of him. She’s planning to parade him around as a one-man replacement for the Avengers.” Mel rubbed her temples, visibly disturbed, 

Your heart began to race. “But he’s unstable, is that right? He was never expected to survive given that—“

“He is very unstable.” Mel cut in, shaking her head. “They never should’ve experimented on him in the first place. He has… issues, serious psychological issues. Then they pumped him full of some twisted version of the super-soldier serum. No structure, no anchor. Just raw, unchecked power sitting on top of a fractured mind. He’s a ticking time bomb, and god knows what’s going to happen.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, already digging into your blazer for your phone. Without hesitation, you dialed Bucky. The phone barely rang once before he picked up.

“Y/N—hey, I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, voice soft with guilt. “I know I said I’d call and—”

“It’s fine,” you cut in, heart squeezing at the sound of him. “But I need your help. Like, we need your help. Now.”

“What’s going on?” His tone shifted instantly, gentle but alert. “What do you mean we? Are you safe?”

“I’m okay. I’m with Mel. But you need to get to New York. Immediately. Val is off her fucking rocker, the Sentry Project is way worse than anyone thought, and there’s a guy named Bob—”

“BOB! YES! THAT’S WHAT WE JUST SAID—” A chorus of voices erupted from the background on his end, followed by the sound of Bucky irritably shushing whoever was with him.

You blinked. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, ignore them,” he said quickly. “Keep going.”

“Right. So Bob is basically a human WMD with major issues, and Val is planning to show him off to the press. All I’m saying is that he should not be field-tested. Please, Bucky. We need you here, now.”

“I’m coming, I promise. Just stay where you are—”

Bucky’s voice faded into the background as your attention snapped to Mel. One look at her face sent a chill down your spine. She looked worse than when you’d first walked in. She was completely pale now, and her eyes locked on something behind you, wide and unblinking. 

You turned around instinctively, already knowing something was wrong.

There she was. 

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine stood in the doorway of Shawarma Palace like a gathering storm. She didn’t look angry, she didn’t need to be when her gaze was enough to send a chill straight through you. The stillness in her expression was unsettling; the quiet calculation in her eyes said enough. She was irritated but not furious, and somehow that made her even more terrifying. 

You understood, in that moment, exactly why Mel looked and sounded the way she did. 

“Y/N? Hello? Can you at least give me an ‘okay’? Hello—”

“Val found us,” you mumbled into the phone, “Come find me.” 

You hung up and slipped the phone back into your blazer, just as Valentina began to make her way toward the booth. Her steps were deliberate, and her lips curled into a smile that felt anything but kind. 

You held your breath as Valentina slid smoothly into the booth beside you, her tailored coat folding perfectly with the motion. She let out a slow exhale as her eyes drifted between you and Mel.

“I was beginning to wonder what was taking you so long,” she said, her voice laced with quiet disappointment. Her gaze settled on Mel with a subtle shake of her head, “I asked for my usual shawarma combo, not the whistleblower special.”

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Mel started, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I already know everything, so just—” Valentina raised a hand, silencing her without saying another word. The gesture wasn’t loud or dramatic, but it landed like a slap. 

Then her attention turned to you. 

“And you,” she said, placing a perfectly manicured hand on your shoulder in a gesture that felt more like a warning than comfort, “you’re diving headfirst into things you don’t even begin to understand. And for what?” She tilted her head, her voice soft but sharp enough to draw blood. “For the congressman? You’re smarter than that. You can do better than being someone else’s mouthpiece.” 

“Yes, yes, save the ‘I can do better’ speech,” You said dryly, brushing her hand off your shoulder like it was a piece of lint. “I’m not the one that’s about to host a show and tell for a weaponized science experiment, but sure, let’s pretend this is about me making poor choices.” 

Valentina let out a soft, humorless laugh. “I would’ve liked you,” she said, though her tone suggested otherwise. “But unfortunately… you’ve become a problem.” 

She stood from the booth, smoothing down her coat.

“Come on, girls, and don’t try anything clever.” She said, her voice low and her threat mostly aimed towards you, “I’ve got this place on lockdown, so let’s not make this messy. I’d hate for someone to get hurt over a misunderstanding.” 

Valentina guided you and Mel out of the door, her hands resting lightly on your arms in a gesture that read more like camaraderie than coercion, or at least to any bystanders watching. You stole a glance at Mel, whose face had gone ghostly pale, and all you could think about was how to get her out of this unscathed. As expected, Shawarma Palace was surrounded from the outside. Undercover agents lingered nearby, casually falling into step behind you like shadows. Valentina didn’t need to issue a single command, they moved with precision as she ushered you both toward a sleek black SUV parked at the curb. 

You climbed into the SUV first, followed closely by Mel and then Valentina. The door clicked shut behind you, and the driver didn’t waste a second before pulling away from the curb, merging smoothly into traffic and driving towards the looming Watchtower.

“It’s such a shame we had to meet under these circumstances,” Valentina said with a theatrical sigh, turning toward you with a casual shrug. Then she looked at Mel. “I'd really hate to replace you, Mel. You’re the only one who knows how to spell 'classified' without help. So here’s your chance,” Valentina exhaled slowly, her eyes boring into Mel, “Sort out where your loyalties lie.”

You turned to Mel, who was seated beside you, and gave a small, subtle shake of your head that said ‘don’t fold, not now’. But it was already too late.

“Yes, Val. It won’t happen again,” Mel said, her voice flat, her shoulders heavy with defeat. She couldn’t even look you in the eye.

“Let’s hope not,” Val said, flashing Mel a sharp smile. Then, she turned her attention back to you. “As for you... Well, I’m not feeling quite as generous. How about a little meet-and-greet with my science experiment? I think you’d make a better target practice for him. He needs more of a challenge than tin cans and glassware.”

“Well, you’re in for a letdown,” You shrugged, though a flicker of fear settled deep in your bones. “I bruise like a peach and running? Yeah, not really my thing.” 

“Oh, do shut up,” Valentina snapped, her patience evaporating. 

Before you could even register what was happening, Valentina fished something out from inside her blazer. You barely caught a glimpse of it before a sharp, searing pain shot through your thigh. 

Your breath hitched, and then you were out like a light.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ The Watchtower Manhattan, New York

Your eyes fluttered open, temporarily blinded by a flood of sterile white light that made your vision swim. You blinked hard, trying to focus, but the brightness seared your retinas and left behind a dull ache behind your eyes. The air around you was cold and filled with the smell of antiseptic and metal. Each breath you took tasted sterile, like you’d been breathing recycled air for too long. 

Your body felt impossibly heavy, like someone had poured molten lead into your veins. Panic bloomed in your chest as you tried to shift, only to realize your limbs wouldn’t budge. Metal restraints dug into your wrists and ankles, cutting into your skin with every slight movement. You were strapped down, seated upright in a cold metal chair. 

When your vision cleared slightly, your gaze swept across your surroundings. The room was stark and lifeless, every surface a blinding shade of white that made it feel less like a lab and more like a morgue. Then, your gaze settled on a man standing a few feet away. He had shaggy brown hair, plain clothes, and he was holding one hand out toward you like he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be doing this. You blinked, trying to reconcile the image in front of you with the warning Mel had given. 

This was him? The test subject? The biological weapon? 

You’d expected someone monstrous, intimidating even. Not someone who looked hesitant and heartbreakingly human. His brow was furrowed, his eyes uncertain, and despite the circumstances, he looked more lost than lethal. 

“What is it? Performance anxiety?” Valentina’s voice cut through the silence behind him, smooth but fraying at the edges with impatience. She didn’t seem to notice that your fingers had started to twitch, and that your eyes were fluttering weakly open.

“Come on, this isn’t any different from the glassware you’ve shattered.” She added, heels clicking as he stepped closer to him. “This one just happens to be a bit more… fleshy.” 

“I… I can’t. I can’t do it,” Bob stammered, his voice strained and cracking under pressure. His hand dropped to his side, trembling. His eyes met yours briefly, but instead of alerting Valentina, he looked away. He was protecting you.

“She’s a person,” he said firmly. “I can’t do that to her or anyone.”

“Robert.” Val’s tone sharpened, “You have the power of a million exploding suns. This? This is nothing. This is a warm-up, just target practice.” 

“I-I’m serious, Val, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Val pushed relentlessly, “The only thing in your way is you. You want to prove yourself? You want them to stop seeing you as ‘just Bob’? Then do it. Make them see what you’re capable of.” 

“I said no!” Bob raised his voice, now visibly angry that Valentina wouldn’t stop insisting. The room shuddered beneath the weight of his anger. The overhead light flickered violently, casting warped shadows across the white walls. “I’m not doing it, give me something else. Not a person, not her.” He asserted, gesturing with his outstretched hand towards you. 

The metal restraints around your wrists and ankles began to tremble, a low, metallic hum rising in your ears as Bob kept his hand outstretched in your direction. You barely registered the heated argument brewing between him and Valentina, your focus pinned to the vibration crawling along the cuffs. Your chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, bracing for pain, for impact, for the worst. 

Then, you heard a soft and almost imperceptible click. 

You didn’t move, you couldn’t. You sat frozen in the chair, every muscle locked with tension. The silence that followed felt louder than the chaos. Your limbs were leaden, your body too numb or too scared to risk standing. 

“Alright, alright, let’s bring it down a notch, Bob,” Valentina said smoothly. She barely acknowledged the tremor in the floor, her attention fixed on Bob entirely. You got the sense that she was purposefully prodding at his temper just to see where the cracks would form.

Bob’s shoulders rose and fell with every heavy breath, the fury draining from him slowly. “I’ll do anything else,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the ground. “But I don’t think I can hurt people…”

“You will,” Valentina said gently, like a mother reassuring a child, but the undertone was ice. “You have to, if you’re going to be Earth’s next great hope. Heroes aren’t just made in labs, Bob. They’re made in moments like this.”

“I don’t… I don’t know if I should be doing this,” he said, backing toward the corner of the room.

You tracked his retreat while Valentina followed close behind him like a shadow. Your heart pounded as your eyes scanned the space looking for an exit. Then you saw it: a door across the room, slightly ajar. Your breath caught.

It was now or never.

“Robert,” Valentina cooed, her voice laced with something more dangerous than threat—belief. “You don’t have to think right now. That’s what I’m here for. I see your potential, even when you don’t. I chose you for a reason. The world’s going to know your name… if you let them.”

You rose slowly from the chair, knees trembling but steady enough. You willed yourself to move one foot after the other with your eyes on the door. You held your breath and moved.

“This is your moment to show the world who you really are,” Valentina said, her voice velvet over steel. “The press is on their way, and those idiots will be here any minute now.”

“They’re coming here?” Bob asked, his eyes darting toward Valentina. “Them?” 

“Yes, Bob. Them.” She stepped closer, her words slow and deliberate. “They’re coming to shut this down, to erase everything we’ve built. But they can’t. They don’t understand the kind of power you hold. It’s time to show them.”

You moved along the wall, one cautious step at a time, trying to stay within Valentina’s blind spot. Every movement felt like it echoed too loudly in the silence. 

“They underestimated you,” Valentina continued, weaving poison into every word. “Left you behind. Let you take the fall.” 

Bob’s expression wavered, uncertainty flashing across his features like a storm cloud. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff, pulled between guilt and the intoxicating promise of purpose. You crept around a nearby table, eyes locked on him, watching the flicker of conflict in his gaze. Something in him was unraveling, you just didn’t know which way he’d fall. 

“They’re a threat,” Valentina said softly, each word curling around Bob like a leash. “A threat to you, and you need to eliminate threats before they eliminate you.” 

Her voice was almost hypnotic, like she was casting a spell with every syllable. You felt a subtle shift in the air, as if the pressure had changed. Something was happening to Bob, something within him, you didn’t know, but you could feel him slipping. 

“Let’s start with this one,” Valentina said suddenly, turning around as her gaze snapped to you like a trigger being pulled. Her lips curved into something cold and cruel. 

You froze on the spot, and time seemed to fracture. 

Bob turned to face you, but it wasn’t the same man. His soft, uncertain expression was gone and replaced by something hollow… something frightening. His eyes flickered, his brown irises shifting into something that held power that didn’t belong in a human. 

You barely had time to process the change before the force hit. 

It was as if you were struck by a tidal wave of pressure, an invisible blast threw you off your feet and into the air. Pain exploded through your body as you slammed into the wall behind you, then crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. 

Your vision fractured at the edges, and sounds dulled around you like you were being swallowed by cotton. The last thing you saw was Bob walking towards you, then everything went dark. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Something bright flickered behind your eyelids. 

You groaned quietly, willing your eyes to open. The light hit your eyes harshly, its brightness sharp, white, and disorienting. You squinted against it, your vision swimming. 

Great. I’m dead. That was your first thought, dry and detached. This is it, the light at the end of the damn tunnel. 

But then you noticed how your body wasn’t weightless. It was light, but not gone. You were moving or being moved. Carried maybe.

Your limbs dangled with barely any strength in them, and warmth radiated beneath you. Someone’s arms held you carefully, feeling solid and real. 

Bucky? You thought to yourself as you processed the feeling of their hold. No, it can’t be. Both arms feel warm. 

You tilted your head, just enough to glimpse a blur of motion and shape. A figure. Someone was carrying you. You couldn’t make out their face, smudged by the fog of your fading consciousness. 

Okay… so I’m not dead. Not yet. I think…? The thought drifted sluggishly across your mind as your eyes threatened to close again, dragging you back under. 

Then you heard voices, muffled at first, but rising in urgency from the next room. Your eyes fluttered open again, just in time to realize you were still being carried. 

The figure moved steadily toward the source of the noise, footsteps echoing in the short hallway. You forced your heavy head to lift, blinking against the blur. 

At first, you weren’t sure who it was. The man looked just like Bob, but something about him looked wrong. His once shaggy brown hair was now neatly combed and dyed golden blonde, and he wore a fitted yellow-gold suit. He looked pristine, manicured, and too theatrical. It was Bob’s frame and face, but too polished, too out of character. 

“Stay still,” he said quietly, his voice gentle. 

“'Where is she?!” a voice demanded that was strikingly Bucky’s. You could hear the panic and fury burning beneath his words. “What the hell did you do to her?!” 

A loud crash rang out, something metal falling, or being thrown. Then silence. 

Your eyes flickered toward Bob’s hand, fingers splayed ever so slightly. The sound had stopped as suddenly as it began. Whatever it was, he had frozen it. 

“I wouldn’t do that, I didn’t come alone.” Valentina’s voice replied, cold and smug. 

Bob moved again as he carried you down a stairwell that curved into a brightly lit room. Your vision blurred in and out as the world pulsed with waves of light, muffled voices, and disjointed sounds. Your consciousness slipped from your grasp like water through fingers. 

As you were brought into the space, you could feel the air thickening slightly into something charged with tension. You heard gasps echoing through the room, everyone seemed to stop breathing when Bob emerged with you in his arms. 

“Robert, I said bring her after,” Valentina muttered, her tone clipped as if she was holding back the urge to snap. 

“Sorry, I thought you said to bring her as soon as they get here,” Bob said quickly, his tone unsure. “She’s not looking too good, and she was, um, she kept mumbling someone’s name. ‘Bucky,’ I think—”

Well, that’s embarrassing, you thought hazily, the fog in your mind unable to recall saying his name out loud.

“It’s fine. Whatever.” Valentina snapped, cutting him off sharply. She exhaled a slow, performative sigh, “Doesn’t matter. Thank you, Robert.” 

Then you heard the unmistakable thud of boots pounding against concrete. 

“Let her go!” Bucky commanded, his voice echoing sharply in the room. It was the voice he used when he was done asking nicely. 

Bob splayed his fingers again, clearly following orders from Valentina. Bucky’s footsteps seemed to freeze mid-stride, like he was locked in place by an unseen force. 

“No. Not yet,” Valentina said, letting out another sigh as her irritation slowly bubbled up. “Ugh,” she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I was just about to tell you what my plans were. I had this whole thing organized with a speech and everything.” 

“Yeah? How’s that working out for you?” A woman’s voice drawled from somewhere in the room, her tone dry and unmistakably Russian.

Valentina ignored the jab, waving her hand like she was swatting a fly. “Oh, this is a mess,” she muttered, exasperated by the lack of ceremony, “Sentry, your first mission? Get rid of them.” Valentina commanded as she stepped aside.

You looked up just as Bob glanced down at you, his face flickered with guilt. Without a word, he walked to the side and gently lowered you to the ground. “I’m sorry about earlier… I hope your head’s okay,” he whispered, barely audible, then stepped away without waiting for a response. 

“Huh…?” You mumbled to yourself, unable to recall what happened prior to you waking up. All you could remember was being in a lab before waking up in Bob’s arms.

Your arms trembled as you pushed yourself upright, bracing against the smooth surface of the glass behind you. Your vision was still swimming, and you blinked rapidly to clear it, your heart pounding like a war drum. Not far from you, you saw Bucky still rooted in place, his muscles straining as he fought against the invisible force that kept him frozen.

Your eyes focused, scanning the rest of the room. Besides Valentina and Bob, there were four others, figures you didn’t recognize that were armed and alert. One stood in a black tactical suit, face completely hidden behind a white mask. Another looked absurdly out of place, like a Soviet version of Santa Claus—thick with fat and muscle, bearded, and draped in red. A woman with platinum blonde hair stood poised beside him as she observed the scene with unnerving calmness. Then, there was the man with the shield, and for one breathless second, you thought it was Steve Rogers. 

No, can’t be him, you told yourself, blinking rapidly and trying to clear the haze from your vision. That’s not Steve because if that’s Steve, then I really am dead. 

“I don’t want to hurt you guys,” Bob’s voice broke through your thoughts. He stood just a few feet away, his tone almost pleading like he was bargaining with a friend before a bar fight. “How about you just… turn yourselves in?”

“You don’t want to do this, Bobby,” the man with the shield warned, stepping into position, his grip tightening on the circular steel. His tone was steady, yet there was an undercurrent of mocking in the way he referred to Bob with another name.

Bob’s eyes flickered for a split second, his brown eyes bleeding into gold before flickering back, “You can call me ‘The Sentry’,” he said as he stood straighter, his voice now stripped of its uncertainty. 

“Don’t do this,” the blonde Russian woman said gently, stepping toward him like she was approaching a wounded animal. “You don’t have to listen to her.”

Valentina’s voice cut in sharply, “Robert, they never believed in you. They don’t think you’re good enough—”

“That’s not true,” the woman interjected quickly, her tone pleading. “You can trust me. I know you.” 

Your brows furrowed as you felt a cold feeling crawling up your spine. You recognized the shift in his behavior, and the memory flickered in your mind. It was the same one you’d seen back in the lab. When the kindness in Bob drained away and something else took its place. 

Bob shook his head slowly, “I don’t think that you do.” 

Without warning, a guttural roar exploded from Soviet Santa.

“Don’t mess with the West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts!” he bellowed, barreling toward Bob like a freight train. His outburst set off a domino effect with the others, except for the blonde woman.

“No, no! Don’t!” she called after them, frustration rising in her voice. “Suka,” she muttered under her breath before rushing in behind them. 

Chaos ensued. 

The masked figure shot forward like a bullet, their weapon drawn and aimed with precision. The platinum-haired girl swept behind Bob and attempted to strike from his blind spot. The shield-bearer launched forward with his attack, the steel disc slicing through the air and aimed towards Bob. 

Yet, Bob didn’t flinch. There was something deeply reluctant in his posture, like a child being asked to swat a bug, but unable to bring himself to do it. Still, Bob raised his hand, and a small shockwave rippled through, catching the four of them mid-strike and throwing them back like ragdolls. You could tell he was holding back, almost apologetic as he fended them off with strength he clearly didn’t want to use. 

Amidst the fight, Bucky finally broke free from the invisible force that surrounded him. He moved in a blur, not caring about the chaos as he threw himself towards you. 

“Y/N!” He shouted, your name leaving his lips like an answered prayer. He skidded across the floor to your side, dropping to his knees fast. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered breathlessly, his arms locking around you tightly as if he needed to prove to himself that you were real and alive. “I thought I was too late, I never should’ve gotten you involved—God, I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked, the weight of his guilt evident in his embrace.

You melted into him, your trembling limbs sinking deeper into the shelter of his arms. You felt the tension leave his body, his grip shifting from desperation to comfort. One hand, warm and human, cradled the back of your head, while the cold weight of his vibranium arm wrapped protectively around your torso like armor. 

“You’re here,” you rasped, your voice hoarse but full of stunned relief. You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar smell, like the scent of something that felt like home. The chaos remained in the background, the shouts, the grunts, but in Bucky’s embrace, all of it faded into static. 

“Of course,” he murmured, leaning back just enough to see your face. His brow furrowed deeply as he scanned you, his eyes wide with concern and heartbreak. “You call, I come. Always.” 

You reached up tentatively at first, then steadier as your fingers brushed his cheek. His skin was warm under the pads of your fingers, the stubble rough against your touch. His blue eyes were rimmed with unfallen tears, hovering and waiting to fall. When he smiled, one of those tears slipped down his cheek. 

“You’re crying,” you murmured, your voice merely a croak, though a wisp of amusement threaded through your words as your thumb gently wiped the tear away. 

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, catching your wrist in his hand like he wasn’t ready to pull away, “No, I’m not,” he replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as two more droplets fell. “You have a concussion. You’re just seeing things.” 

You smiled just a little, too exhausted to hide the warmth rising in your chest. There was comfort in the way he touched your hand, like it meant something. 

Like you meant something. 

“You’re a shit liar,” you whispered. 

“Yeah?” he said, brushing a strand of your hair off your forehead as he scanned the extent of your injuries, his fingers lingering longer than necessary, “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

“I do,” you replied, more quietly than before, your words like a silent confession. “I see right through you.” 

Something shifted in Bucky’s expression, a small flicker of change that made your heart stutter. Your breath was caught somewhere in your throat as you looked at him. 

You’d buried your feelings deep, convinced they didn’t matter because you knew better. You’d convinced yourself for too long that they couldn’t matter, but now, with the weight of him next to you, with the way his touch steadied you, it felt impossible to push it away. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his thumb brushed your knuckles gently, like a silent confirmation. As if he had noticed the change in you—the change in your heart—and he had been waiting for it. 

Your gaze dropped, your heartbeat thrumming too loudly in your ears for your own comfort. Gently, Bucky reached for your chin, his fingers brushing against your skin to tilt your face back up to face him. You met his eyes again, and this time, you didn’t look away. 

His touch moved with careful intensity, trailing from your chin to cup your cheek. There was something reverent in the way he touched and looked at you, as if he was afraid you would vanish if he blinked too long. Slowly, he began to lean in, and something unspoken began to unravel at last. 

“Hey, Romeo,” a voice called out, their accent distinctively British and feminine, “a little help would be nice?” 

The moment shattered as quickly as it began. 

You both flinched at the sound, you looked behind Bucky to see the masked figure phasing around Bob, her attacks ineffective against Bob’s defense. Eventually, she pulled back and retracted her mask to reveal a brunette with striking green eyes. Her gaze flitted between the two of you, one brow raised in amused disbelief. 

“Time and place,” she added, gesturing around the chaos. “Kind of bad timing for a bloody reunion kiss, don’t you think, Barnes?” 

Bucky let out a sigh that was half a groan, his forehead briefly resting against yours before he pulled away with a reluctant smile. “Rain check?” he murmured under his breath.

Your lips curved into a tired smile. “You owe me,” You croaked before letting him go to join the others. 

He placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles before turning to face the rest of the fight, the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin. 

You watched the five of them engage Bob, their movements swift and coordinated, but it didn’t take long before dread began to creep in. Despite their skill, their numbers, and their sheer determination, something inside you knew that they were no match for him.

Valentina hadn’t been bluffing. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said Bob was powerful. She had created something terrifying, an indestructible force wrapped in a kind and uncertain man. Now, that very same creation stood in front of them like a god among mere mortals.

You flinched as Bucky fired round after round, only to see the bullets crumple midair and never even touch Bob. The man with the shield hurled it with force that could’ve taken down a wall, and Bob caught it like it was nothing, casually bending the reinforced steel with one hand in the way someone might snap a stick.

It wasn’t just his strength, it was how calm and detached he was. Bob wasn’t even fighting, he was just moving.

And the others? They were giving it everything they had.

Sweat dripped from their brows, breath ragged, muscles straining. Bob didn’t even look winded, and that made your stomach twist with something close to fear.

Eventually, the Russian woman, with her chest heaving, lifted her hand and shouted, “Let’s go!”  

The others listened. There was no pride left to protect, just survival.

She broke into a sprint toward the elevator, punching the call button repeatedly with desperation. Bucky and Soviet Santa ran to your aid and flanked you, urgency etched into their faces.

“Come on, we’ve got you,” Bucky said, sliding his arm around your waist and hoisting you upright with practiced ease.

You stumbled to your feet, legs weak and heavy, but the group closed in around you with their defenses up, weapons drawn, and shoulders squared, forming a makeshift wall of protection. 

The elevator doors dinged open. Bucky and Soviet Santa half-dragged and half-carried you inside, while the rest of the group piled in quickly as the doors began to close. Just before they sealed shut, you looked up one last time.

Bob stood just beyond them, his brown eyes rimmed with gold. He stood rooted in his spot while Valentina stood beside him, Bob looked at all of you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Was it anger? Sadness? Guilt? 

Then the doors shut, and he was gone. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Silence settled heavily over the group as you all staggered out of the Watchtower. No one said anything at first as all were too winded, too bruised, and too weighed down by what had just occurred. The fight had ended, but the feeling of unease lingered like smoke. Bob had changed; you’d all felt his shift from someone so gentle and uncertain to someone colder, detached, and far more dangerous. 

“We need to regroup and think,” Soviet Santa said at last, breaking the silence with urgency in his voice. “There has to be a way to stop him.” 

“We’re not regrouping, Alexei. We’re not even a team,” the shield-bearing man said flatly, holding out his dented shield with a scowl. Then he pulled off his helmet, revealing none other than John Walker, the very briefly crowned Captain America.

“Of course we are! We are the Thunderbolts!” Alexei boomed, puffing out his chest as if that alone would summon unity within the group.

You and Bucky exchanged an equally baffled look. “I don’t even know what that means,” Bucky muttered, his words voicing both your thoughts. 

“It’s her little peewee soccer team,” the British woman said with a scoff, nodding toward Yelena, who stood stiffly off to the side. Her silence was telling more than anything she could’ve said. Yelena wasn’t just quiet, she was stunned as if her thoughts were still catching up to what had just happened. Out of everyone in the group, she had been the closest to him, maybe not openly, but it was evident in the way she spoke and pleaded with him. Bob’s drastic change clearly unsettled her more than she let on. 

“We need to go somewhere to discuss this and come up with a plan,” Alexei said, now actively arguing with John, who refused to back down. 

“Discuss what?!” John barked. “He turned my shield into a taco!” He waved the bent metal in the air for emphasis.

“It really does look like a taco,” you mumbled quietly, but apparently not quietly enough because John shot you a look. 

“Oh my god, will you all shut up?!” Yelena snapped, her fists were clenched at her sides, and she looked like she might explode. “There is no us, there is no we. Bob changed into that thing, and there’s nothing any of you can do about it!”

“What did you do exactly?” The British woman retorted defensively, “Because if I remember correctly, you got your arse handed to you harder than anyone else.”

“Yeah! I suck! I’m terrible! We’re all terrible!” Yelena shouted, throwing her arms in the air. “And you, Ava? You’re not a hero. You’re not even a good person!” 

“Bitch.” Ava muttered under her breath. 

You blinked, stunned at how quickly they jumped into an explosive verbal warfare. You glanced up at Bucky, concern and confusion evident on your face. He simply held you closer, guiding your head to rest against his chest. 

“This is just how they talk,” he murmured in your ear, sounding apologetic. 

“They seem like good people.” You deadpanned.

Alexei moved toward Yelena, trying to placate her with his paternal bravado. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly, placing his hand on her arm gently, “It’s okay, malyshka. I know you’re upset—”

“I’m not your malyshka!” Yelena snapped, shoving him off. “You don’t get to call me that when you don’t even bother to call me!”

“Alright, take it easy,” John cut in to de-escalate. 

“Oh, so you’re nice now?” Yelena spun toward him, her fury redirecting like a missile lock. 

“What? It’s my turn?” John asked, already exasperated. 

“No,” Yelena said flatly, “You know you’re a piece of trash, Walker, so does your whole family.” 

“Jesus…” John mumbled, throwing his hands up in mock surrender and staring dumbfoundedly at Yelena.

Bucky exhaled slowly, his chin resting lightly on the crown of your head, careful not to put too much weight there. He stood still and silent on purpose, his posture making it clear that he wasn’t eager to be caught in Yelena’s line of fire. Unfortunately for the two of you, Yelena didn’t share the same courtesy. 

Yelena turned toward both of you, her eyes narrowing, though the sharp gaze that she gave everyone else had softened slightly. 

“I would say something to you, Barnes,” she said dryly, “but you’re in this weird situationship with your coworker and that’s tragic enough as it is.” 

“You don’t hold back, do you?” you muttered, letting out a sigh. Your voice wasn’t bitter, just entirely exhausted to argue your way out. You thought you would get a pass since you were mildly concussed, but you learned quickly that no one was safe from Yelena. 

“Situationship?” Bucky repeated with a frown. “What does that even mean?” 

Ava sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like she couldn’t believe this was an actual topic they were discussing. “It’s when you’re not technically dating, but you do all these couple things—”

“What? That’s not—” Bucky interrupted, his voice rising defensively as if preparing to argue. Then, without warning, he suddenly blurted, “It’s not a situationship if I’m in love with her!” 

Silence fell within the group as Bucky went rigid beside you. It was as if his brain had just now realized what his mouth had done, and by the time he fully processed his words, it was too late to take them back. Everyone’s eyes were on Bucky, and even Yelena was caught off-guard mid-tirade. 

John let out a low whistle. He was about to open his mouth to make a comment, but Bucky shot him a glare that immediately shut him up. 

“Oops,” said Yelena, fully devoid of remorse, “Didn’t mean to trigger a love confession.” 

You blinked, your heartbeat thudding too loudly for your ears. “You’re in love with me?” You asked, your voice quieter than intended. Your eyes found his, and the corners of your mouth twitched up, caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief. 

Bucky’s eyes flicked away, his mouth opening and closing once before he found the words. “I… no—I mean, yeah. Yes.” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, gaze dropping to the pavement. 

You didn’t say anything, but instead you reached for his hand, fingers intertwining with his without hesitation. The gesture was simple, but the way it made Bucky’s head snap back up told you how much weight it held for him. You gave his hand a squeeze and he looked at you, his panic melting into something softer. 

Yelena rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. “We’re fucked. We are so unbelievably fucked,” she muttered with a dramatic sigh before turning on her heel and crossing the street. 

“Lena, come back,” Alexei called after her, jogging to catch up like a parent reeling in their child. 

One by one, the rest peeled away. John grumbled something under his breath and stalked off in the opposite direction. Ava retracted her mask with a quiet hiss and phased effortlessly out of sight. Then, it was just you and Bucky, standing alone in the aftermath. 

“At least they didn’t kill each other,” Bucky muttered as he guided you away from the Watchtower. His warm hand dropped yours, shifting to your waist for support. You let out a quiet chuckle, your ribs still aching and your mind spinning, but for an entirely different reason. 

“Let’s not breeze past the part where you said you’re in love with me,” you teased, nudging his side lightly, your voice casual or at least trying very hard to sound casual. 

Bucky raised a brow at you, casting a sideways glance that was more vulnerable than smirking. “Again… you’re concussed and possibly even hallucinating. I’m taking you to get your head checked.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “James, don’t try to gaslight your way out of this one. I’m serious.” You chided, half sincere and half teasing.

He stopped walking, slowly turning to face you with a quiet exhale. His hand at your waist tightened ever so slightly. You turned to him fully, still clutching your side where it hurt. “Did you mean it?” you asked, quieter now, your words fragile like glass. “What you said, did you really mean it?” 

He hesitated just for a second, but it was enough. You felt a shift in him, subtle and unmistakable. When his eyes met yours, you recognized the look right away. It was the same one he’d worn from the very beginning: the day you stood up in that crowded town hall, all fire and conviction. The same look he gave you when you cradled Alpine like she was yours. The very same one that lingered every time you stepped in without being asked, simply because you knew he needed you. It was always there, you just didn’t want to name it.

“Every word,” he said simply. “I just didn’t plan on saying it like that, but I’m not taking it back. I don’t want to.” 

You exhaled, shoulders sagging slightly as the tension began to slip from your body. For a moment, neither of you spoke. 

“I knew I was screwed when I first saw you during that town hall meeting,” Bucky said finally, his voice low and rough as he dropped his gaze to the pavement. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles like he was grounding himself, “I’ve felt it for a while, I didn’t exactly hide it well either.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gazed at him, holding onto his hand tighter, “I noticed,” you admitted quietly. “I just… wasn’t sure what to do with it. I’ve been trying so hard not to notice because this—us—it was never supposed to be more than a job, and I didn’t think we could be anything else.” 

You looked away, your laugh bitter. “We’d be breaking so many rules. At least, like, more than a handful.” 

Bucky let out a small, breathy laugh. “No, no. I looked it up. Thoroughly, actually.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious right now?” 

“I dug up the actual HR handbook and I read through all the clauses that had to do with personal relationships.” He confessed with a shrug, “So yes, I’m pretty serious.” 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“So, turns out, it’s not illegal,” Bucky said matter-of-factly, “It’s just ethically frowned upon, but it's not like I’ve ever let ethics stop me before.” 

That drew a real laugh from you, soft and surprised. Your throat was still tight, but the way he said it, so casual and full of affection, made it easier to breathe. “So you had time to research Federal workplace dating policies,” you said, half-teasing, “but you can’t sit through the two dockets I gave you last week?” 

“Are you really going to bring that up right now?” 

“Force of habit,” you replied, smirking. 

He shook his head with a laugh that softened into something more tender. “You don’t have to say anything,” Bucky murmured, his voice softer now. “Not right now. I just wanted you to know how I feel and just have everything out in the open.”

You looked at him, taking in the subtle way he braced himself for rejection even after everything. The way his eyes held deep vulnerability and sincere truth. 

Suddenly, the weight of everything you’d held back started to loosen. You reached up, brushing your finger against his cheek, watching the way his breath hitched at the contact. 

“What?” He asked, cautious but pulling away 

“I’m screwed too.” You whispered, the weight on your shoulders dissipating as soon as your words left your mouth. 

Just as your hand reached up to cup Bucky’s cheek, his eyes flicked skyward, narrowing at the low, mechanical whir overhead. It was the sound of helicopter blades spinning too loudly and too close. You followed his gaze just in time to see a helicopter spinning out of control, and veering dangerously toward one of the massive cranes still attached to the upper levels of the unfinished Watchtower.

Then, a sickening crunch followed, the noise echoing through the air as metal collided with metal. The crane groaned under the force, twisting like a snapped limb before beginning its collapse. The helicopter continued spiraling, its tail aflame, drawing a fiery arc as it plummeted toward the street below.

Bucky moved instantly. His vibranium arm came up, shielding your head as he pushed you back, his body curling protectively around yours as he guided you away from the tower.

“Move! Let’s go!” he barked, his voice barely audible above the rising chaos.

Around you, people screamed. The sidewalk turned into a wave of bodies fleeing in every direction. You stumbled backward as a deafening crash shook the ground. The crane, now detached, slammed into a row of buildings with explosive force, sending debris and glass ricocheting across the block.

Car alarms wailed and sirens screamed. Then, through the smoke and spiraling ash, your eyes caught a shape in the sky just hovering above the wreckage.

It was a silhouette that was vaguely human, pitch black, and impossibly dark. So dark that it seemed to drain the color from everything around it. 

You squinted, your heart crawling into your throat as realization settled like lead in your stomach.

“No… it can’t…” You whispered, your voice hollow.

Bucky turned as he followed your gaze, jaw tightening at the figure hovering high above the city.

It was Bob, but not the Bob you knew. 

Not anymore.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ taglist: @seraphine-ann @cyberjawz @serumandsteel @hiraethmae @yesiamthatwierd @shortandb1tchy @yiiiikesmish @theendofthematerialgworl @cherrypieyourface @trashbin-nie @daydreamgoddess14 @dollface619 @tessastarfire @stell404 @nameless-ken @tshuuls @aiyaiy @caffeinatedavenger i probably missed some people, I need to start a spreadsheet for these things. anyway pls let me know if you want to be added! End Notes: me, writing: omg they keep getting interrupted also me: i keep interrupting them, i did that.

hes so down bad in this one its kind of ridiculous like please stand up!!!! (also dont)

the next one is probably going to take just as long as this one but i do have another fic that im writing and will post soon!!! <3

[demie90s]

juju and reader who met at the mcdonald’s basketball game thingy, and have been seeming each other ever since reader is a year younger than her and lives in new york so it’s always been long distance , juju is at usc and reader is at uconn but reader goes to visit her during off season and people see her and juju together and speculations start coming in, but they don’t care because as long as they have each other everything’s coo

ᴊᴜᴊᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴋɪɴꜱ X ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ɴᴏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴢᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜ

MASTERLIST, MORE (Hope this is alright)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You meet Juju during the McDonald’s All-American Game in high school and have been seeing each other ever since. You’re a year younger, originally from New York, and now go to UConn. It’s always been long distance, but that doesn’t stop you from flying out to visit her during the off-season.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: College basketball | Long-distance | Soft launch era | We been knew vibes

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Flirting, FaceTime affection, social media theories, travel miles maxed out

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 1k

ᴠɪʙᴇ: iMessage games at 3AM, matching slides, posts with no tags, subtle captions like “LA treating me good,” forehead kisses at baggage claim, and that lowkey but locked-in energy.

The McDonald’s All-American Game was already feeling like a show. Bright lights. Too many cameras. Too many egos in one gym. Everyone pretending to stretch while checking who was watching. I kept my hoodie up during warmups. Didn’t need to prove anything yet.

I knew who she was, though. Juju Watkins. USC commit. Media darling. Walked like she already had a sneaker deal. I wasn’t impressed… but I was watching.

She hadn’t looked my way once.

Halftime. Interview mic in her face. I was on the bench across the court, sipping Gatorade and minding my business when I heard it.

“Who’s giving you the most trouble out there?”

Juju tilted her head, calm as ever. “Nobody really,” she said. Then paused. Just for a second. “Number 17 got movement though. She crafty.”

My number was 17.

The camera panned to me. I didn’t blink. Just a nod and kept drinking.

After the game, I was tying my hoodie around my waist, ready to dip, when someone brushed past me slow. Close enough to mean it.

Juju.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just turned halfway, still walking, and said over her shoulder:

“You play like you don’t care.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You watch me?”

She grinned. “I watch people who play west coast like they got something to prove.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t have to. She knew.

Next morning, I had a DM from her that said:

@/jujubeballin: “That move you hit in the third quarter? Cold.”

I left it on read for 8 minutes.

Then replied: “You’ll see worse next time.”

A few months later.

LAX smells like recycled air, broken dreams, and Starbucks. I land at 1:48 AM.

No one sane flies out of JFK on a red-eye to LA. But I’m not here for sanity. I’m here for her.

She meets me just outside baggage claim, hoodie up, mask down, arms open. She smells like Dior and eucalyptus, and she hugs me like the season just ended and we won everything.

“I missed you,” she mumbles into my neck.

“You saw me last month.”

She pulls back, smirking. “And it’s been a long-ass month.”

She takes my bag even though I tell her not to, grabs my hand, and walks like she owns the night. No security. No cameras. No team manager. Just Juju and me, moving through the city like we got time to waste.

The first night, we don’t do anything except sit on her couch, legs tangled, watching some Netflix show we both ignore. Her hand never leaves my thigh. My head’s on her shoulder. Her phone buzzes every once in a while, but she only checks it when it’s the team.

When she looks down at me, her lashes are soft and sleepy.

“You still tired?”

I shake my head. “I think I’m good now.”

She grins, pulling me closer.

“Good.”

The first picture hits Instagram the next day. It’s her story. Just me. Hood on. Slides. Holding her dog in the middle of campus with the caption:

“She said she not tryna hoop but she got hands”

I don’t repost it. But I smile like an idiot when I see it.

The second one is mine. My legs on her lap, nail polish chipped, her USC hoodie hanging off me, captioned:

“West coast hospitality >>”

Within 40 minutes, someone on TikTok’s already made a slideshow with a 6lack song under it. Comments like:

@/slutforjuju: “Wait is that the girl from UConn???”

@/hippyhoppystop: “IDK but she fine.”

@/jujuswifey: “Soft launch alert??”

@y/nwhore: “This is my Roman Empire.”

We laugh reading them together, but Juju tosses her phone on the bed and pulls me closer.

“They can guess all they want,” she says. “They not getting the real story.”

I lean in. “What is the real story?”

She kisses my cheek. “That you mine.”

It’s not easy. It never is.

I go back to UConn, and everything hits at once—training, media, games, cold-ass mornings that make me miss LA even more. She sends me voice memos when she can, short ones. Tired ones.

“Just dropped 27. Wish you were here to talk shit with me.”

“I saw your stat line. You really showing out, huh?”

“Don’t fall asleep on me. I know it’s 2AM, but I’m selfish.”

Sometimes, when I’m really missing her, I wear her hoodie on the bus. Or I scroll through our old videos. The one where she tried to teach me her TikTok dance and I fumbled so hard we both cried laughing? Yeah. That one gets me through.

The next time I see her is off-season again. This time, we go out. A little dinner, lowkey spot in LA. We’re not hiding—but we’re not loud about it either.

We walk in holding hands. Nobody says anything. But that one girl at the back whips out her phone faster than a ref at tip-off.

By morning, the post is up:

“JUJU WATKINS WITH MYSTERY GIRL IN LOS ANGELES 👀”

Someone comments:

@/goulsandbunnies: “That’s not mystery girl. That’s East Coast Girl™. UConn shorty.”

@/pazzilover: Juju’s the one who sends me the screenshot. “You’re a brand now.”

I just send her a voice memo. “As long as it’s your brand, I’m good.”

We never really say it online. But we don’t have to.

I’m in her phone as “#1.” She’s still my lock screen. There’s a half-finished TikTok draft on my phone titled ‘california love pt. 2’. We post, we delete, we laugh, we disappear. But every time I see her name light up my phone, I remember—

There’s no time zone when it’s her.

No travel too long. No distance too far. Because she’s worth the miles.

Every time.

[endortbc]

(Following ddba s1e4)

The bench is in a rundown neighborhood, not far from Hell's Kitchen.

Frank stumbled upon it by chance.

The advertisement on the bench is old, heavily worn, and outdated.

It is printed with the phone number and address of their first law firm—the number is now disconnected, and the address is no longer their office.

Murdock has a new business partner now, renting a spacious, bright office in a trendy downtown district.

Nelson has been gone for years.

Frank likes this bench.

Sometimes he comes here to sit for a while.

There’s no scenery to speak of—the only view is the confident smile of the young Murdock on the ad, looking every bit like a bastard lawyer. And that slogan. What a smug, arrogant prick.

It stirs something in him, something like nostalgia.

Sometimes Frank comes here. He doesn’t know if anyone will ever remember to remove this ad. He hopes that day comes later. It’s one of the few wishes he has left.

But even if he’s disappointed, he can accept it.

Frank keeps occasional tabs on Murdock. He knows he’s still working as a defense attorney, has friends to drink with, a steady dating life, no longer patrolling the streets in his pajama at night, staying far away from politics.

Good.

Away from these power struggles, away from tragedies he can’t save.

Blind in the eyes, deaf in the ears.

Murdock would rather let guilt and remorse consume his heart and soul than gamble on his anger being kept in check by reason.

Frank understands.

Because he’s the same.

Yesterday, Murdock came to Frank’s place to see him.

After all these years, he finally allowed himself to be honest about his feelings.

Maybe for people who have to maintain their social identity, protecting their image in the eyes of others is more important than facing themselves honestly.

Frank despises that kind of hypocrisy.

But he can understand it.

Yet, in what identity did Murdock come? And which version of Frank was he looking for?

Frank doesn’t know.

He doesn’t care.

Murdock could no longer bear the pain and disgust of living a lie—he needed a safe place to let it all out.

That’s all Frank needed to know.

Facing his fury and vulnerability, Frank felt the same anger, sorrow, confusion, and helplessness.

What do you want from me? Who are you?

Consoler Murdock, the defense attorney who once represented felon Frank Castle?

Daredevil, the Punisher’s longtime nemesis on his job?

Red, the ally Frank Castle could trust when he was the Punisher?

Or Matthew Murdock, who’s lost too much and is now searching for answers in Pete Castiglione, another man with nothing left?

Frank doesn’t know.

The funny thing is, Murdock’s the one who can detect lies through heartbeat or some ninja trick, yet Frank’s always been the one to strip away all his disguises—and once again, reopen his wounds.

Frank missed the moment to give him an understanding embrace, no matter which identity it was for.

He no longer has any excuse to offer this misplaced comfort under any grand pretense.

That’s why Frank is sitting here now.

He doesn’t know in what capacity he could ever step back into his life.

Until Frank gets a call. From Karen.

The woman he wanted to protect is now asking him to help the man he also wanted to protect.

He can do it—as the Punisher.

As for which version of Murdock he’s dealing with, he doesn’t care.

He’ll do what he can.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Missing(SarinaWiegmanXTeenDaughter)

Warning: mental health struggeles, Diabetes

Summary: it's your first Camp, the next morning you are Missing and everyone is worried. Especially your Mom.

Camp was a big deal for you. You were 17 years old and got called Up to the England Senior Squad. You had to read alot of shit online about you just being picked cause of Sarina being your mother. Spoiler alert, If at all this made things more difficult for you. Cause your Mom was keeping an extra eye on you. You also got offered to Play for the dutch national Team. But since you were born in England you decided to Play for them.

After Team Dinner on arrival day you went to bed. Sharing a room with Jess Park. When she was asleep around midnight you grabbed some of your clothes. Put them in a Backpack and sneaked out. Leaving the Camp Training grounds. You had your Phone turned off right now.

When Jess woke up the next morning around 6:30am she thought you already went to have breakfast. So she didn't worry just yet. That changed two hours later when your mom walked into the conference room with a concerend look on her face.

"has anyone seen y/n?" Your Mom asked. Jess frowned.

"not since Last night. She was gone when i woke Up around 6:30am." She stated.

"i am worried. I just checked your room and she took some of her clothes and all of her Insulin gone." Your Mom explained. "And her Phone is turned off. Has anyone noticed anything different about her?" She wanted to know. Cause even though you are Here as a Player for the First time, all the Girls have known you for a few years now.

"we haven't seen her and haven't noticed anything." Lucy said softly.

"she also was acting normal before we got here!" Leah stated. Your captain became like a big sister to you and she was your teammate at Arsenal. You made your debut there two Seasons ago.

"let's find her." Alessia got up from her seat. She also became a big sister to you. You even lived with her sometimes when your parents weren't Home.

"yes let's do that!" Tooney said.

They made little groups and went to look for you. You currently were sitting in a 24 hour Diner. Sipping on a Coffee. Your Mom went there after looking for you for an hour because Alessia knew you liked that place. She took you there a few times.

"y/n, thank god you are here!" Your Mom said softly.

"Mom, what are you doing here? Leah, Alessia..." You whispered out. Wiping away some tears.

"are you kidding? You ran away from Camp. We all were worried sick! Sarina was close to calling the Police!" Leah stated. She obviously looked pretty stressed. Same with Lessi and your Mom.

"i am sorry. Le & Less. And Mom... I didn't mean to scare you!" You answered. Sighing softly to yourself.

"well why did you leave in the first place?" Your Mom wanted to know.

"excellent question. Was about to ask the same!" Leah stated.

"okay, maybe let her explain." Alessia told them.

"thanks Lessi!" You replied and took a deep breath before speaking up again. "Have you been online recently? People say that i am only Part of the Lionesses because of who my Mom is! That Hurts. It really messes with my head." You admitted and then teared up. They all frowned.

"y/n... don't believe those people. They are just jealous and probably very unhappy with their own lifes. That's why they look for other people to tear down. those Keyboard Warriors think they are untouchable and can be mean whenever they want to be. It's to make themselves feel better about things." Leah told you. Alessia nodded her head softly in agreement.

"yes everything Leah said is true! You are so talented and deserve to be a lionesses." Alessia replied. Your Mom spoke up now after listening to Let & Lessi Talk.

"Leah and Alessia are right, my Girl. You deserve to be here. I don't make decisions lightly. You know that. I expect the best No Matter what." Your Mom let you know. It was true. You did know that. Those words from the online Community still hurt.

"i know...deep down i know... But it still Hurts Hearing that!"you admitted.

You walked back to Trainings camp, everyone was waiting on thr Trainings Pitch for you, your Mom, Lessi and Leah. The England captian has texted them about why you left and they wanted to make sure that didn't happen again.

So when you walked onto the pitch Grace pulled you into a hug. You happened to love hugs from Grace. Grace was giving the best hugs out of all of them honestly. She also happened to be one of your favorite people. Like ever.

"don't let anyone Tell you that you don't belong, cause you belong. You are one of us!" Grace stated.

"Clinton is right Kid." Lucy said and ruffled your hair. Which you quickly fixed again.

"thank you." You told them and offered them a small smile. Hugging Grace back.

"yeah they are right! And don't ever Run away again, please!" Jess Park told you.

"i agree with Jess! You scared the hell out of us!" Aggie let you know.

"thank you Girls for telling her how good she fits in!" Your Mom said softly and smiled at them. Practice started a little bit later and you gave it your all. The Trainings Video on the Lionesses Channel had Lots of nice comments about you and it made people realize that you in fact did deserve your place there.

Later that day you sat with your Mom in the conference room, just the two of you. You watched her Work on some Game Plans.

"i am sorry for running away, Mom!" You spoke up. Biting down on your bottom lip.

"you know i was really worried about you. Especially when you Phone was turned off. I thought you had one of your Low blood sugars or something like that. It was quite scary!" Your Mom said and placed a hand on your arm. Giving it a gentle squeeze. You hugged her and didn't let go for a while.

"i didn't even think about you being worried. I should have known you were concerned. I promise i won't do that again and won't just turn my Phone off anymore." You answered. She held you close. Kissing the top of your head.

"that's appreciated sweet Girl. Cause no matter what i will always worry about you." Your Mom explained. "Cause that's what moms do!" She added.

The two of you sat there, hugging eachother for a little while longer. Just enjoying eachothers company.

[cuntyhunty22]

Guilty as sin : chapter 1

Summery : you move home after being gone for years.. you are trying to adjust to life back home after dealing with heartbreak. You didn't know to heal a heart it would take two people who happen to be brothers.

Word count: tbh I'm unsure.. but ITS A LONG ONE. (I should have broke it up part 2 is already almost finished)

This will be multiple parts let me know if you want tagged.

Pairing : Joel!dbf x reader : Tommy x reader

Tags : age gap , SMUT , language, love triangle, cream-pie (be smart about that) , oral:f:receiving, oral:m:receiving , fingering, squirt, daddy use (once) Dom Joel , slight sub Joel . (I am sure I'm missing things but you get it. )

Reader is a mess.. but we love her 🫶🏼

Music recs : guilty as sin : Taylor swift

Francesca : hozier

Love you tonight : Ella Langley

Somebody else : the 1975

Delicate : Taylor swift

Love song : Lana del Rey

For the past three years you have been studying abroad. England, Spain, Norway. Pretty much anywhere you could go to travel and learn you did. Now you are home for the summer...

The sun beams into your childhood bedroom followed by the sound of a lawn mower. You groan into your pillow, still very much jet lagged. You have been trying to get yourself back on to this time schedule. You lay there for a moment before finally giving in and getting up. You throw on a pair of little boxer shorts and a tiny cami then you head downstairs. You pop your headphones in as that's apart of your morning routine. It's always a good day when you start with music. You start a pot of coffee dancing around the kitchen, then you open the refrigerator rummaging through looking for coffee creamer. Your dad prefers his coffee black but he always has some stashed for you. Your favorite, French vanilla. You're practically bent over in the fridge searching when you finally find it. You back up quickly running your back into what felt like a brick wall. Strong Hands touch your waist just to push you forward. You spin around to see your dad's best friend standing there... Joel miller.

"Mornin kiddo how are ya."

You still have your headphones in as you stare at him bewildered. embarrassed.. kind off.

"Huh sorry.. was listening to music."

You crack a smile. He stands in front of you, a few feet taller. That teeshirt hugging him just right. Tan skin, dark brown eyes....

You snap out of it realizing you were staring.

"You kids and your technology. I asked how are ya..?"Joel scoffs annoyed that you weren't paying attention. He's always been kind of a grumpy man.

"Jet lagged, I made coffee if you want some." You gesture to the coffee pot In the corner like he hasn't been in Your house a billion times. You dont know what's gotten into you but he's making you nervous. He looks different... a good different.

Your dad enters the kitchen sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Morning honey, I see Joel came in and said hello. Told him earlier you were home... Oh you made coffee! Wonderful."Your dad smiles ear to ear.

He has really missed you. As of now his house is completely empty. You have been abroad and your baby sister has moved to teach less fortunate children.

"He did, and yeah couldn't relax between the bright sun and the loud ass lawn mower..." you let out a yawn.

You peek over to see Joel looking at you.. your legs mainly. Afraid you caught him, his head snaps in the opposite direction.

"Ah yeah sorry honey should have thought about that. Supposed to get super hot today so Joel and I here, were trying to get some yard work finished before it's unbearable out."Your dad sipping on his coffee, scrolling through his phone.. on espn probably.

"I have to go to aunt dollys wedding rehearsal later anyway.. and the pre wedding party is tonight. Thought about hitting the mall for some clothes."

Joel still standing leaning up against the counter.

"Joel you gotta go to that too dontcha? you're like Randy's best man.?"

You look at him waiting for him to respond to you.

"Yeah I'll be there."

His grip on the coffee cup tightens as you walk past him to sit down at the table.

"Joel could you drive her? I gotta go pick up her sister from the airport would be just easier." Your dad asks.

You look over at him, your eyes glisten in the sun. Joel has driven you places tons of times. Between movies with Sarah his daughter or high school football games when he'd scare the boys away.

Sarah and you are about 4 years apart.

"Yeah- yeah uh I can. S'not a problem." Joel shrugs.

"Lovely we can catch up. Dad I'm gonna try to nap, respond to a few emails, see you later.. love you."

You kiss your dad's head, leaving Joel with a smile before grabbing your cup of coffee and heading to your bedroom.

•

Once you are upstairs you lay there for a moment. Images of Joel flood your brain... the stubble on his face, his strong features, the slight grey patches in his beard and hair. You roll over groaning not knowing why this is why you are thinking about. You blame it on jet lag. You pop open your laptop, doing your daily scroll. There is something you have been avoiding but you gave in. You typed in your exs name..

He was one of the reasons you even moved abroad. You had met him here in college. You fell in love and he convinced you to move to England. Things were great they really were, but you both just became busy with life. Eventually you agreed to take time away.. that's been about 10 months now. You guess he's been dating someone but you haven't spoken to one another. Just some things you have heard. You have really just been focusing on yourself.

His profile popped up.. he's currently on vacation in Greece (a place he has always promised to take you )

You click through the posted pictures and there is one of your old roommate from London.. Then it hits you.. that's why you havent heard from her.. why she has ghosted you.

That's who he has been dating.

You scoff

"fuckin asshat." You mumble to yourself.

You slam the laptop shut. Pop your head phones in, and shut your eyes... you relax a bit.. dozing off..

"Oh Joel.. yess right there.."

Joel has your tiny boxer shorts pulled down, as you are bent over on the kitchen table nails digging into the wood as he fucks you.. he fucks you hard.. harder than your ex ever did..

"You look so pretty taking my cock darlin' "

"I'm gonna -"

You shoot up from your bed, shaking.

You look around realizing you fell asleep. Then you realized what you were dreaming about. Your core aching from some fucked up joke your unconscious mind was playing on you. You absolutely can not be horny for your dad's best friend.

But what if you were...

•

You try to shake off the feelings or whatever the hell was going on in your brain. Trying to run from that, your focus has now become on your ex. Honestly it fucking hurts. You didn't know if you even wanted your ex back but it was the point of being lied to. Being ghosted by someone you called a friend, and even more so your ex always swore to be your friend above everything else.

You decided to skip the mall and just wear something you already had. You knew you wanted something to show off your legs because as hard as you were trying to ignore whatever what was going on you couldn't.

You picked out a cream lace baby doll dress, paired with some cowboy boots. You curled your long hair, makeup pretty natural but glowy, paired with some Glossy lips.

It was about 4:30 now, the rehearsal is at 5:30. If you know Joel miller.. you know he's gonna be early.

•

4:45 his truck pulls up with a honk. You make your way outside, Joel hops out to open your door. This wasn't a new thing it was just how he was.. how he always has been.. but for some reason today it hit a bit different.

"Thanks Joel, you don't have too I can get it." You give him a smile.

"Absolutely not darlin, it's a man's thing to do.. what boys over there have no manners? " He lets out a cocky chuckle

You couldn't tell if he was being an asshole or actually just joking trying to start a conversation. You didn't respond because honestly it wasn't something you wanted to talk about. You stayed quiet for the first few minutes of the drive. Joel could tell something was wrong.

"You gonna talk darlin, or we just gonna sit In silence.. you act like I'm some stranger."

He looks over at you, his side profile being illuminated by the golden hour light. Those thoughts from earlier creep in. His eyes trail over you, from your eyes, down your body, like he's taking in every part of you.

"Yeah sorry. Um just tired is all..."

"You've always been a terrible liar you know that.." he looks over at you.

"I have not." You roll your eyes.

"You have, I knew you were lying when you took Sarah to those house parties and I had to come get you... when you snuck to Dallas to see some boy.. when I also had to rescue you because you said you were staying at my house and you didn't want your ol man finding out."

"Sounds like you are sayin you have a habit of saving me.." you scoff.

He just looks at you like he's trying to figure out if he's looking at the girl he's watched grow up, or the woman that she now is. Just like that you arrive to the venue. Joel comes around letting you out, he grabs your hand to help you hop out of his truck. Just the touch of his hand sends shockwaves to your body.

His big rough calloused hands, how tiny yours looked next to his. Joel and you walk side by side into the building. You are greeted with hugs and hellos from people you haven't seen in years. As you are doing your mingling you can't help but watch Joel. How easily his presence is known, how cool and collected he always has been, and there it is.. that look to you. For even just a second that cool and collected fades and you see something else.

You continue mingling waiting for dolly and Randy to get things started. Your Aunt dolly comes running over as soon as she laid eyes on you.

"Oh my darling girl, how are you.. how's London boy." She kisses your cheek.

"Hi auntie, um well-"

You notice Joel is in earshot now.

"Well dolly men across the pond are just as bad as men here." You crack a smile.

"Awww honey you just need a good ol Texas man..like your daddy, Randy or even Joel."

You choke, making yourself cough.

"Sorry tickle In my throat."

You look over at Joel, acting like he's not listening but you think you saw a slight smile.

She brings you in for another hug before going back over to her wedding planner. More people file in, your sister has arrived, Tommy Joel's brother.. and Sheila. Sheila is dollys best friend but she's also had the biggest crush on Joel for years.

•

"Okay everyone, let's get started.. I have each groomsman paired with a bridesmaid.."

Dolly names people off the list.. and you just had this feeling she'd pair Joel with Sheila. Maybe you with Tommy, you two have always been really cool, he's handsome. softer than Joel. Dolly surprisingly does the opposite.

"My darlin.. you are with mr Joel miller here.."

you both look at one another.

Sheila comes over, she's never been your biggest fan. "Honey how about you go with Tommy.. I know yall are close.. he's more your age.. more your speed. Joel clenches his jaw.

You look at her and a laugh slips from your lips.

"Jesus Sheila can't give it up can ya.. no I'm cool with being with Joel thanks though"

You give her a cocky smirk as you link your arm with Joel's.

She glares at you as she stomps away.

"Guess t'was your turn to save me." Joel smiles and you both laugh. You gently pull your arm away from him as you left it linger there for a moment maybe a moment too long.

"Glad to be of service, she sure hasn't changed..."

"Yeah.. but you have.."

Joel looks at you, you cock your head not really knowing what he meant by that.

The wedding music blasts through the building bringing him back to what actually was going on. Rehearsal went well, Joel is your partner for all the wedding duties, walking down the isle, and going into the reception together. For some reason you think maybe just maybe life is trying to tell you something...

•

rehearsal ends.

Everyone is getting ready to head to the local bar for the before wedding party. You were overstimulated by everything so you decided to walk outside and get some air. You walk over by Joel's truck to find Tommy with a flask in hand.

"Hey buddy.. you wanna share.?"

You smile as he brings you into a hug.

"Hey sweetheart.. how's things.. been a long time.."

You take a swig from the flask making you gag...

"Fucking hell Tommy what is that.. but um

Im fine I guess, im back home, dont really know what im doing with my life but ya know.."

You take another swig, handing it back to him.

"Does anyone know what they want to do with life? I went to the army but here I am been back here for a minute now. You got a boyfriend still?" Tommy takes a drink from the flask.

Your eyes get wide choking again , either on that question or the burn of whatever poison Tommy is drinking.

"No ... no I don't Tommy... please don't tell me you're hitting on me..."

Tommy gives you a smirk.. the same smirk Joel has but softer..

"No.. I wasn't trying to.. but I mean.."

He trails off with a laugh

(He definitely was )

"was just checking in on ya sweetheart. your ol man tells us about you, but that's something he wasn't sure about, he was actually kind of worried about you...have you told him?

"Tommy miller giving me an intervention who would have fucking thought ... no.. now pass me the flask." You give him a little punch on the arm.

You take another big swig when you notice Sheila and Joel walking out together.

"Fucking gross..." you gag.

"What the whiskey.. come on girl that's what you grew up on , what the England bloke made you soft..?"

"No that.." your eyes shift over to Joel and Tommy cackles.

"Yeah she won't ever let it go.. pass the flask it's gonna be a long night."

You stand there for a bit with Tommy until Joel comes over. You are already feeling a buzz but you needed it.

"Little brother, you taking care of our girl while I was gone." Joel comes over putting himself between you and Tommy. He looks you up and down the same way he has been doing all day.

"I'm spectacular Mr miller, let's go to the bar..."

Joel looks at the flask,, to you, then to Tommy.

"Jesus Tommy. Seriously."

"Hey don't yell at him. I'm an adult.. I can do what I want and what I wanted was to drink with Tommy so drive me to the bar Joel." You stumble a bit, Joel grabbing your arm helping you into the truck.

Tommy closes the door walking over to his truck. Joel pulls out, he's silent. You shift in your seat to look at him leaning forward on the middle console your face inches away from his.

"What are you doin.." Joel's voice gruff.

"Nothing... just thinking.." you keep staring at him.. you want to touch him so bad.. but you won't... Then suddenly you do..

You run your hand through his curls then down his jaw. His face falling into your touch. Joel lets out a little moan, followed by a cough trying to make it seem like nothing.

"I'm thinkin you shouldn't be drinkin with my brother..."

You laugh at him.

"Why not Joel? I'm not a child. And for fucks sake it was Tommy. What are you jealous?"

(Bingo that's it.)

You scoff annoyed at him. "Don't see me yelling at you for walking out with Sheila. Maybe we should switch then. At least Tommy cares to talk to me about how I am today.. and how I have been.. you just wanna "save me" lecture me. You wanna act like you haven't been looking at me all night, how you just melted under my touch.."

Joel grips the steering wheel.

"Fine we will switch then, and I did try earlier. You been actin weird with me. And don't even start that.. don't put that out there.."

•

Joel parks in the lot for the bar. You don't wait for him to open your door. You hop out and make a bee line for the bar door. You are met with the group consisting of your sister, your dad, Tommy, dolly, Randy, Sheila and some of the rest of the wedding party. Joel trails behind you.

"My beautiful daughter." Your dad hugs you. " Miller you taking care of her.?"

"F'course." Joel looks at you as you walk in to the building. You head straight for the bar, Tommy by your side.

"Tommy I'm getting drunk, you tell your grumpy ass brother to leave me the fuck alone."

"Can't do that sweetheart.. you know Joel."

"Fuck Joel."

Tommy chuckles

(You really wish you could)

•

For the first half of the night it's just conversation with the group. Reminiscing about everything, you tell stories from your time abroad, trying avoiding the topic of London boy. Which eventually comes out, you just state you are separated but are on good terms. No need for all the details. Eventually your dad and sister head out. So does dolly and Randy. So that left you, Tommy, Sheila and Joel.

By this time the bar is packed. People dancing, wall to wall. Tommy has bought your drinks all night, taking shot after shot after shot.

"So you gon tell me what happened? Separation or whatever.. I know you. You ain't ever this quiet."

Tommy touches your hand and you pull away..

"Sorry didn't mean" he looks at you with puppy dog eyes.

You smile.

It is nice to feel wanted, or hell even just paid attention to.

" it's okay.. um.. well here look.."

You show him London boys Facebook. You are now seeing that there is a new post. He and your old friend are now engaged. You explain everything else practically in tears..

"That's a lot darlin, you deserve better. forgive me for being forward I can't help but be curious, but are you interested in anyone else.?" His drawl even more silky with the whiskey he's consumed. You let out a laugh because if anything he's persistent.

"Honestly Tommy.. I'm not sure.. I mean kind of but it's I don't even know. Plus now finding the engagement out.. it's just.. it's a lot.."

You don't know really it's just stolen glances, curiosity and the forbidden line of it. Now adding the underlying emotions of your ex being engaged to someone that's not you.. after years of thinking it would be.

He hands you another shot.

"Think this is needed." His hand on your shoulder massaging it gently.

As you take the shot you notice Sheila hugging up on Joel in the corner. You don't know why this affected you the way it has but you decided to take matters into your own hand. Knowing what you were about to do and how it would play out.

"Tommy. Let's dance"

•

You slam the shot back with ease as Tommy grabs you by the hand leading you into the sea of people. the bass of the music fills your ears. The alcohol fills your veins and rage fills your soul. You wrap your arms around Tommy's neck as you both dance to the beat of the music, his hands carefully trailing down your body as you sway back and forth. You look up and Joel is watching. Eyes dark. jaw locked.

Tommy swings you around your back now against him. His arm wrapped around your waist as you grind on him to the music. You feel the cold of his belt buckle through the sheer lace of your dress his bulge in his jeans stiff on your ass. His hands run through your hair as he lays a gentle kiss on the top of your shoulder making you shiver. The song switches and you decided you needed to use the restroom. You told Tommy you'd meet him back at the bar.

•

You walk down the dark hall way hearing heavy steps echo behind you. You don't look back. You open the door to the single bathroom, as you go to shut the door it was stoped by a boot shoving himself into the bathroom with you.

His big hands to your face, lips crashing to yours in an instant. Hungry kisses that consume one another his tongue invaded your mouth mixing with yours, the taste of cigarettes, mint and whiskey. He shoves your body against the wall hard as His lips trail down your jaw. Trailing down your neck. His hands cupping your breasts through your dress.

"Joel-" you whine.

"Shut up." His breath heavy as His hands reach under your dress, a hard grip on your thigh making you whimper.

"Fuck that sweet little sound." He growls.

"Joel-" you say in a whisper.

"I said shut up, what are you doin. You say that shit in the truck. Messing with my head then you come in here dancin like a whore on Tommy."

You shove him off you. Tears in your eyes.

"How fucking dare you. Do you even know what's wrong with me!? Have you been listening at all tonight Joel.. what happened in England.. that my ex is ENGAGED to my roommate.. now you wanna talk about what was said in the fucking truck.. or the fact that I dreamt about you today. That your the only thing I have thought about since this morning.."

Joel steps back looking you up and down. His jaw clinches as he's trying to find the words to speak. You step forward closing the space between, your hands run through his hair like you did earlier, his hand goes to the back of your neck tilting you up to look at him. His eyes dark and focused as he leans into you . Your lips grazing, his heavy breath shaking.

"This is..." joel trails off, as he plays with a strand of your hair.. "this is playing a dangerous game."

"Shut up and fuck me Mr miller." It was ballsy of you to say but fuck it.

Joel's hands immediately back under your dress. He gently rubs his fingers over the thin material of your panties covering your heat.

"Baby.. these are soaked.." his body pressing against yours, lips right in your ear.

"Yeah-" you throw your head back arching more towards him.

He does this again, but he rubs circles on your clit through your panties soaking them even more. Joel then hooks your panties with his fingers moving them to the side.

He dips one finger into your wetness, letting out a groan as he does. He pulls his finger out sticking it in his mouth sucking off your arousal. You let out a breathy moan watching him do that turning you on even more

"Fuck, you taste good.. tell me something darlin.."

His voice dark and sultry.

"Yeah Joel."

He reaches back down, inserting one finger into your cunt, already tightening on him.

"Who's got you this fucking wet... me.. or my brother...?"

It was filthy.. so fucking filthy.. filthy and forbidden.

"You.." you stifle a scream as Joel thrusts another finger into you.

"Yeah.. you sure baby... seen you grind that ass on him.. his hands on your body..his lips on your shoulder.."

Joel thrusts his fingers faster into you, you're already so close to your climax.

"You.. it's always been you ..ah fuck yes.. I touched myself to the thought of you this morning.. "

Joel freezes.

"You dirty girl.. horny for your old man's best friend.. cumming to the thought of me.. while you toy with my brother.."

he pumps a few more times before pulling his fingers out leaving you empty.

You whimper at the ache that's still there.

Joel kisses down your neck.

"What the fuck Joel." You look at him annoyed.

"You don't get to cum unless I say.. or unless I make you.." he smirks turning walking out of the bathroom. You stand there for a second trying to comprehend what just happened.

•

You go back out into the bar Joel is now standing by Tommy, Sheila there as well.

"There ya are sweetheart thought you got lost or kidnapped." Tommy smiles at you. You look over at Joel, his eyes focused on you and what your response was going to be.

"Yeah sorry just needed a minute." You fidget, not knowing what to do or say now.. because Tommy is great.. he always has been. So sweet so kind. Still rugged. But Joel.. Joel was mysterious, rugged, dominant , something that was deeper than what's on the surface.

Sheila proceeds to move herself between you and Joel, practically shoving you. You had enough of her and her antics. To be honest you were just fucking mad period. Mad at your ex, mad at your old roommate, mad at Joel.. mad you didn't cum on Joel's fingers, mad Joel didn't let you cum..mad that oddly you kinda wanna take Tommy up on his offer.. mad that whatever you are feeling for Joel won't let you try with Tommy. And fucking mad at Sheila for not taking a hint and just being a cunt.

You put your beer on the edge of the bar and "accidentally" spill it on her. She shrieks, looking at you pissed.

"What the hell was that.! Joel look what she did to me!"

Joel and Tommy trying not to laugh.

"Oops sorry maybe you need to learn personal space and that wouldn't happen."

You shrug as She rolls her eyes.

"You really ain't special ya know, you're back here because he broke up with you.. and I see what you're doing here.. she looks back and forth between Tommy and Joel. You are just a whore, like your momma, makes sense why your daddy left her."

Your fists are balled up as you go to step forward when you are pushed back by Tommy and picked up taken out of the bar by Joel..

•

Joel puts you on your two feet outside in the parking lot.

You look at him, tears in your eyes..

"Please don't..." you plead.

He looks at you as Tommy comes out the door, both of them just staring.

"I'm gonna take her home.. she is my responsibility tonight, I'm gonna make sure she gets back." Joel looking at Tommy.

"Sounds good big brother.. see you tomorrow." Tommy and Joel hug.

"Hey.. text me later okay.. if you want to talk anything.." Tommy touches your face wiping away a tear before he brings you into a tight hug. His hands didn't linger, didn't go anywhere they shouldn't have, he just hugged you.

"Okay.. bye Tommy thank you."

"Not a problem sweetheart. Get home safe"

Joel and you walk to his truck.. nothing was said but you could feel his emotions. He opens your door this time you don't argue, you take his hand as he helps you in. He starts the truck and just sits there for a moment.

"She's wrong ya know.. and m'sorry for what I said earlier.. that probably didn't help." Joel shifts his seat turning to look at you. You're fumbling with your fingers something you have always done when you're anxious. You jump when he grabs your hand, holding it tight, his calloused thumb rubbing little circles as He brings it up to his lips laying a soft kiss on it.

"Look at me." Joel's voice low but stern.

"Am I allowed to cry?" You look up at him face covered in your tears.

No hesitation he kisses you, really kisses you. Not the lust filled ones earlier, this one has some feeling behind it. You pull away.

"We can't.. it's too much.. I have too much-"

Ignoring you he kisses you again,

Messy top lip kiss. Pulling you over into the drivers seat putting you right on his lap. Your legs stratal him, his arms wrapped around you pulling you in closer and closer. You feel him under you, you feel yourself throbbing but you knew it wasn't the time nor the place. You give in to him, you let the kisses get deeper. You let him touch every part of you. You needed to feel something. Out of the corner of your eye you see Sheila walking out of the bar. You quickly hop back into the passenger seat, your dress basically falling off, your face flushed. Joel confused until he spots Sheila.

"Take me to your place." You say to Joel.

•

Drive there was quiet, his hand was on your thigh the entire time, occasionally you'd catch him staring at you, and you staring at him. In a way you knew that this was a bad idea, but you also knew it felt too right to not.. but then you had a lingering feeling of Tommy.. how free you felt earlier, how much he cared about you and how you felt. Your thoughts interrupted by your door opening.

"Sarah gone?" You ask.

"Yeah.. she will be back in the mornin for the wedding.."

"Okay."

Joel opens the door, and you are hit with countless memories. Cookouts, game nights, the night when you were 19 when a boy touched you appropriately you when he shouldn't have.. Joel threatening to kill him.. that night you witnessed how much Joel cared for you. Then again when you were 21.. sitting on his couch having a drink, the night you first really seen how attractive Joel was.. the same night he realized you grew up.

"You want comfy clothes, m'sure Sarah has somethin or you can wear somethin of mine.."

The thought of being in Joel's clothes was something you weren't sure you were ready for.. but it was something you now craved..

"A flannel would be nice, maybe some sweat pants."

A few moments later Joel has said things in hand.

"I don't gotta tell ya where the bathroom is. You already know."

You leave him with a smile. Walking down the same hall you have many times but this is different.. You change your clothes leaving your dress hanging on the door. You walk out to the living room Joel sitting there, legs spread, he looks huge. He looks like you want to climb him like a tree. Not saying a word you walk over standing in front of him. Lowering yourself onto him, legs on each side, the same position you were in the truck.

"Hi" you say.

"Hello" Joel's hands on your hips.

You lean into him, you just wanted to feel consumed by him. You rest your head on his shoulder as he tightens his arms around you.

"You wanna talk.?" Joel brushes your hair behind your ear.

"I don't know Joel. I don't even know where to begin."

"Mhmm. How bout you just say the first thing you think of and we go from there."

His thumb runs across your cheek.

"Well..right now.." you lay soft kisses down his jaw moving down his neck till you reach a sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder, making him him moan, shifting beneath you. "Right now I want to talk about that.. (you lay another kiss on him) I want to talk about how that makes you feel.. (and another kiss on his neck) how knowing I fucked myself so hard to the thought of you.." you nudge your hips forward applying a little pressure feeling him get stiff. "I want to talk about how wet I was for you earlier.."

Joel growls unbuttoning his flannel you have on exposing your breasts under. Joel curses under his breath as he takes you in.

" you gonna tell me or are you just gonna stare at me like you have all day."

You smirk.

"You're drunk. I can't. You will regret this in the mornin.. this is tricky.. this is..." Joel pulls himself back, you are still on his lap.

"Are you fucking serious... was I drunk this morning... was I drunk in the truck.. no I was tipsy maybe but not drunk. I can recall every fucking word I said. God damn it Joel. I'll just call Tommy." You hop off his lap turning to go to the bathroom to grab your dress and boots. You knew you shouldn't have said that, but you did.

•

"Fuck it" he grabs the back of your neck spinning you around kissing you. His hands pushing the flannel off your body, Joel picks you up putting you back on the couch. Kissing down your body, every single inch.

"Your family is gonna kill me."

His hands sliding into the waist band of the sweats pulling them down.

"Open your legs and don't fucking move."

You sink down into the couch spreading yourself wide open, your cunt glistening with arousal. Joel gets on his knees kneeling below you. Two fingers spread your folds open.

"Fuck look at this, this pretty mess. You do as I say. Ya hear me."

"Yes" you shake under his touch, he hasn't even done anything yet and you feel like you could combust. "Please" you whine.

"Please what.. use your words." Joel holding your thighs open digging his fingers into your skin, his mouth inches away from your cunt.

"Fuck- me." This came out more of a plead than anything.

Joel lets out a sadistic chuckle.

"You're getting my mouth baby girl because you can't handle the rest. But this should take care of ya."

Before you could respond Joel's thick heavy tongue swipes up your cunt, he repeats this a few times up and down as you buck your hips. Craving for more, grinding on his face. Each time you buck forward Joel digs his fingers into your thighs harder and harder. You know it's gonna bruise but you don't even care. You've had men eat you out but not like this..

"Oh my god Joel.. fuck that feels .. fuck so good."

You tangle your fingers in his curls, pulling his face in even more to your heat.

Joel now focuses on your clit. Flicking his tongue over it, getting you right where he wants you. Shaking under him, he sucks on your bud.

"Hmm you taste so fucking good, so fucking sweet." You see black as he thrusts two fingers inside curling hitting that squishy little spot that will send you over the edge. You look down at Joel, seeing him peeking his big brown eyes up from your cunt as he sucks on you thrusting his fingers steady in and out.

"Joel- please.."

You feel yourself clinch on him, you know you are close but you don't want it to end.

"Don't stop, please don't stop."

Joel lets out an animal like growl as you squirt all over him.

"You filthy little girl, your soakin me baby, look at that.... you want more.?"

"Yes.. yes please more I'm.. ah fuck I'm close Joel.."

He picks up the pace, his fingers fuck your cunt fast and deep. You can't even think, can't even speak besides his name and moans.

"That's it.. yes.. good girl... almost there baby come for me.. you can do it.. I want you too.."

The climax fills you, white hot and hard your whole body quivers as you squirt everywhere again. You lay your head back panting.

"Joel." Your voice barely there.

"Yeah darlin."

You lift your head up, all fucked out but eyes still screaming for more. You shimmy off the couch on to your knees opening your mouth. He moves to you towering over top, he unzips his jeans, pulling down his boxers his long, girthy rock hard cock falls out and it's even bigger than you thought. Your eyes widen.

"You sure you can handle this...I don't think you can."

He's now pissing you off.

"Make me take it then."

Nothing more needed to be said. Your mouth wide open his hands on both sides of your head as he thrusts his cock slowly into your mouth. Starting off little by little he slides into your mouth, you swirl and flick your tongue across his tip making him buck his his hips shoving his cock into your mouth deeper.. harder.. Joel picks up his pace slamming in and out, hitting the back of your throat, choking on it covering your pretty face with spit.

"Jesus Christ, look at you.. look at you swallowing my cock like that... fuck... "

Joel's grip on your face tightened as he thrusted faster, fucking your throat in a frenzy. You couldn't breathe but you didn't care. You wanted to prove a point. You wanted to show him how desperate you were for him.

"Such a good fucking girl.. my filthy fucking girl.."

Joel thrusts in and out, spit now covering your chest, eyes watering. Hair completely fucked. He pulls out just for a moment, he tilts your chin up to look at him, showing him the mess he has made of you.

"you are beautiful on your knees all fucked out, all ready f'me.."

"Joel." You whimper, panting still trying to catch your breath. "I want you to cum."

No warning , no nothing he slams himself back into your throat. You choke.

"I decide on that baby.. haven't you learned."

Joel uses your throat. Rough and hard something about it has your body taking over by this ache again. You wiggle under him spreading your legs a bit more. Your hands trace down your body finding your wetness. You whimper against his cock, between the sensation of him using your throat how he wants, and now the slight pressure you applied to yourself knowing that just this morning this was all a fantasy to you. Joel notices your noticeable whimpering, when he sees you touching yourself he freezes. Cock hard just laying in your mouth.

"Is that how you did it this morning.. thinking about me.. you can't get enough can you.. needy little girl.. did I give you permission to touch yourself?" Joel taunts.

You look up at him, eyes wide as you bob your head up and down. Sucking the tip as it touches your lips. You knew he's probably gonna punish you for this but maybe you wanted that. You bob harder shoving his whole length in your mouth , choking on it you circle your clit harder. Joel takes a handful of your hair pulling you back to look at him.

"You want me to fuck you so badly don't you darlin.. you have been such a good girl... I'm not fucking you but I will cum in that mouth. And maybe just maybe I'll make you cum again... open your mouth.. tongue out."

Joel slaps his cock on your tongue, he rubs it on your lips before a hard thrust into your mouth.

"Go on .. show me how you did it.. how you played with your self.."

Joel fucked your mouth long hard thrusts, each time you circle your clit making you jerk he'd shove his cock deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck get up, lay down on the couch and spread your legs."

You do as you are told. Joel stays standing in front of you. Fist full of his cock stroking it. Your pupils wide, as you take the sight of this in. He was beautiful. Completely naked in front of you. His tan body toned from years of contracting, his salt n pepper curls now a mess.

"Go on.. show me.." Joel grunts.

You spread wide, your fingers trail up and down, rubbing all the sensitive spots, you take two fingers and apply all the pressure to your clit, your body shakes as you do. It does feel good but it wasn't like Joel.

"Yeah that's it.. is that how you did it earlier.. did you moan my name in your bedroom. Your dad in earshot.."

"Yes.. ah yes I did.."

"Do it again.." he demanded.

Joel follows your pace, you feel your climax building but you wanted to touch Joel, you needed to touch him. You insert two fingers in feeling how he stretched you out earlier just from his fingers. Your core is hot, you feel it coming.

"Joel- Joel - I need you.. need to touch."

Joel moves to you, you reach up wrapping your hand around his cock taking over stroking him as you play with yourself.

"Fuck ... fuckk.. keeping doin that darlin."

The touch of him is what you needed your body was like a woman possessed with how hard that orgasm hit you. You lay limp still stroking Joel. He's gotten so hard, you can feel his pulse , every twitch with every stroke.

"Open your mouth."

Joel moves your hand taking over as you open for him. He gives two hard pumps as he spills all over your tongue, his cum dripping down your lips down your chin.

"You gonna swallow for me?"

You nod your head. Swallowing it all. Joel collapses on to the couch next to you. Silence for a moment, but not a bad silence. More of taking in the events that just happened. His hands grip your thigh as you look at him.

buzz * buzz * buzz

Your phone ringing.

The clock lights up it's 4:45 in the morning and Tommy is calling you.

Joel's gaze hardens, his grip tenses. You stare at the phone letting it ring. It's like you were on a different planet and now you're back to reality.

"Um I should go home.." you stand up getting off the couch naked you walk to the bathroom to grab your dress. Joel follows.

"You know you can just sleep here.. we gotta be at the venue early would just make sense.." Joel stands in the doorway of the bathroom. "You're actin weird again.."

You stare at yourself in the mirror. How fucked he had you. How much of a mess.

"If I stay here.. I'm sleeping in your bed.. you think you could handle that.. is that crossing a line we shouldn't.."

Your fingers trace down his bare chest. Soft groan leaves Joel's mouth. "Didn't think so.. so I'm going home.. I can walk it's just a few blocks.. could use the air."

You slip back on the sweats and flannel saying fuck the dress.

"I'll get these back to you.. see you later? Unless you still want to switch and be with Sheila.?" You smirk at him.

"Yeah I'll see ya. Can you at least tell me when you made it home... I wish you'd let me just drive ya s'not a problem."

"I'm fine Joel. I need to clear my head okay.. I can take care of me."

He closes the space between the two of you. His hand cupping your face as you melt into his touch.

"Promise me you don't regret this.. whatever this was.." he looks at you. Conflicted expression.

"I don't, no regrets at all. Go to bed old man."

He leans in to kiss you, it was sweet, but there was also a smidge of desperation behind it.

•

You leave Joel's, the sky in that in between of night and dawn. The air has a chill, and it's what you needed.

*buzz buzz*

Your phone vibrates as your screen lights up with both the names of Joel and Tommy miller...

"Fuck what am I doin." You mumble.

You reach your house. It's still quiet. No one is up yet but your dad would be soon. The back door was open so you went in that way. You knew you needed to sleep but you couldn't. Your body high on the orgasms Joel gave you, your mind in a billion different directions with conflicting feelings.

You decided to take a shower, wash off the negativity. You peel off Joel's clothes sliding into the warm water. Little bruises on your body are starting to show, your thighs are marked. A slight pink one on your shoulder. That one would need covered. In a way you loved them. It was a reminder that he was there. You do a quick wash, as you get out of the shower your phone buzz's again.. this time dolly..

"Fucckkkkk"

* darlin I am sorry about Sheila.. she was out of line but so were you. I don't want to have to deal with drama on my wedding day so I'd appreciate that if you do switch with her.. it's easier.

You throw your phone down on to the counter. Normally this would be just whatever. You'd just go be with Tommy.. but you can't. You can't shake proving a point. You screenshot the text sending it to Joel. Replying to his other text asking if you made it home.

He replies

Joel miller • not happenin. You are on my arms all night. Gotta keep you away from my brother.

You • stop it. But you are right. Not happenin. Need my savior in case I need Savin. Maybe fuck me in the church bathroom.

Joel • filthy. Go to sleep. Need to be pretty for me later.

You were feeling bold so you sent a picture, your body wet, the bruises visible.

Joel • Jesus.

You go to check your other texts

Tommy miller • sweet girl hope you made it home safe.. had a great night with you. Save me a dance tomorrow?

You • hey! Yes it was fun. I came home and passed out. And of course.!

Tommy : Sheila texted me. Says you are with me now?

You • yeah dolly said somethin.. but no I'm not letting her have her way.. nothing against you Tommy.. you've got me to Dance with all night. <3

Buzz

Joel: if I marked up your body like that can you imagine what I'll do to that pretty tight little cunt.

You shriek at the thought.

You • filthy. Go to bed. Or maybe come show me then.. sure my dad wouldn't mind you coming over at dawn.

Joel • yeah hearin his daughter scream his best friend's name.. this is a conversation for later. Get some sleep.

You crawl into bed setting an alarm.

Sleep came somewhat easy until..

*

"It's okay to want both of us." Joel looks at you as he sets you down on his cock taking it all in as Tommy comes in front of you, rubbing his cock on your lips...

*

"What the actual fuck."

•

You slept for maybe 2 hours. You had a time schedule today and you didn't wanna give dolly another reason to be pissed at you.

You had to meet the wedding party at the venue for the reception first. That's where everyone was getting ready. Before you left you put some foundation and powder on that little red mark that now has a purple tint to it. You threw a bag together with the things you would need for the day.

Buzz buzz

You glance down your phone going crazy.

Sister - 3 texts

Tommy - 2 texts

Dolly - 4 texts

You ignore all their names searching for his.. and nothing..

you made your way downstairs, you dad sitting in his recliner.

"Hey babydoll, what time did ya make it back.?"

Shit you thought.

"It was late.. um.. you talk to dolly.. ?"

Your dad walks over to you hugging you.

"Yeah baby doll, just let it go.. do what she needs you to do.."

You look at him, stone expression.

"No.. no dad I won't.. why the hell did you think I left here in the first place.. I'm not a fucking child."

He looks at you. Hurt.

"Not what I meant... wait.. is that Joel's flannel.?"

Fuckkkkkkkkk

"Ah yeah, it was late I was upset... he let me vent to him for a few.. I passed out and walked home."

(It wasn't a complete lie)

"Okay just figured you were with Tommy. You two seemed pretty chummy. But good glad Joel took care of ya."

"Yup took great care of me... okay dad see ya later love ya."

"Love ya too kid."

Your phone rings it's Tommy.

"Sweet girl I'm here to pick you up, Joel said He'd just meet us there.. had to get Sarah."

This kind of annoyed you. He promised he would be here. He made you promise that you didn't regret last night.. but what if he does. Is that why he didn't pick you up.

You walk outside, Tommy standing there his long dark hair pulled back, his tan skin glows in the sunlight. His freckles more noticeable. His wife beater clings on to him, covered by a button down. Tight jeans l, his big ass belt buckle and boots.

"Well you clean up nice."

You smile at him, going in for a hug.

"Nice flannel." Tommy pulls back looking at you.

"Uh yeah not mine... went back to Joel's for a bit.. I needed to vent.. um."

Tommy's expression went from happy to a little confused . "It's fine sweetheart, glad you got to get things off your chest.. Joel can be a good listener when he wants to be." He chuckles.

"Okay.. yeah let's forget about all that.. new day.. "

Tommy opens your door helping you in. The miller boys knew how woman deserved to be treated.

The space filled with the hum of the truck and background of the radio.

"Sooo.. have you thought about it.. about going on a date.. I dont wanna over step I know you have alot.. doesn't even have to be a date.. we can just hang out.. I don't know I just feel lighter with you."

Tommy puts his hand on your sensitive thigh, not thinking a moan slips from your mouth.

Tommy's head cocks in curiosity of the little sound you just let out. You didn't know if it was the sensitivity of the marks from Joel or maybe it was the touch of Tommy. He licks his lips staring at you. His grip tightens and you do it again.

"Well that's a sweet little sound." The husky southern drawl in full effect.

You're head spinning because Joel said the same exact thing. This was cut short as you parked into the Venues lot. You couldn't breathe you needed out. Your door swings open fully expecting Tommy to be the one who opened it.. but it was Joel.

•

Your eyes wide like you have seen a ghost. He examined your body language staring into your soul he reaches out his hand pulling you out.

"Hey." Voice thick sweet as honey.

He looks at you again pulling you into a hug his lips linger above your ear. "Ballsy move wearing that.." the flannel falls off your shoulder exposing the little spot covered in foundation not quite your skin tone. Discreetly Joel runs his thumb across it.

"Hi" you finally reply. Looking behind him Tommy watching you.

You were totally fucked.

•

All three of you walk in together, Sheila's head snaps your way seeing you with both brothers . whispering something to one of the other girls. (She's such a slut.) they giggle.

"Can you behave today.?" Joel looks at you, the statement was innocent but the look in his eyes wasn't.

"Nope." You crack a wide smile.

You leave the two men walking back to where the "dressing room" was. You set yourself up in a little corner, not really wanting to be bothered. You do your make up, you opt to curl your long hair in hopes that would cover the tiny mark.

You slip out of your clothes, stepping in to your dress. You couldn't help but feel the eyes on you. Sheila staring as Dolly makes her way over to you...

"Hey darlin girl.."

"Hey" you gruffly reply.

"I fixed things we are good, Joel came to me himself.."

"Great... just tell your bitch of a friend to start away from me. Or I'll finish what I should have done last night.."

"People are just worried hun.."

"About? I'm fine." You pin your hair back trying to stay busy.

"I'm just saying , don't bite off more you can chew.. and don't.."

"Dolly I'm fine. Last night was just a lot, I have a lot going on. Today is about you. Focus on your beautiful wedding."

You hug her hoping that would get her to leave you alone.

•

An hour till ceremony.

*buzz

•Joel miller - saved ya once again.

•you - I know. Thank you.

•Joel miller - you can make it up to me later.

You sit there wandering mind.

*buzz

Tommy miller - can't help to wonder what other parts of you make you let out that sweet little moan.

You contemplate on what you say.. your mind goes to curiosity of how it would be with Tommy. Then to the fact that they are in the same room with one another texting you these things.

•

Half hour

Now it was time to get the bridesmaids and groomsman together. You walk into the hallway your silk gown clinging to your curves. You spot one.. then you spot the other.. both looking straight at you.

You hug Tommy first, his hands tight around your waist.

"You look beautiful." He gently kisses your cheek. This was nothing he's done it before, but this opened your curiosity even more. How gentle and soft his lips were, how they would feel else where.. That was quickly interrupted, by a big hand grabbing yours pulling you to him. Tight hug. His hands replacing the spot Tommy's were. It's like he posses you. You want to collapse under the smallest touches from him. He smells so good. He's wearing a different cologne, but still mixed with the normal intoxicating scent of him.

He speaks softly into your ear so you are the only one to hear him.

"You do look beautiful.. but I know you will look even more beautiful when I make you cum later."

You gasp.

He pushes your hair back, looking down at your shoulder.

It was like no one was there.

"Well you look nice mr miller, it's a shame you have to be paired with her, we would be the hottest ones in there."

Sheila chuckles as she stands next to you. Tommy quickly moving over as well.

"Wow Sheila thanks are you saying I'm the ugly brother." Tommy chuckles.

"She would be blind if that's what she's implying." You smile at Tommy. This statement making Joel clinch his jaw. "I mean any woman would be lucky to have either one of you.. just not you Sheila.. you deserve a cockroach."

She glares at you rolling her eyes.

The music begins meaning it's time. You stand next to Joel as your hand shake. He reaches down linking his hands with yours.

"Easy darlin. It's alright."

He knows your anxiety how you get in situations like this. "I got you."

He rubs his thumb on your little hand, staring at it.

"Joel."

"Yeah honey.?"

You look at him tears filling your eyes.. you don't know what's came over you.

"I -"

You were cut off by the music to enter the church. You hook his arm, his grip tight, he takes his other hand playing with your fingers.

You look over at him smiling.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what darlin.?"

"Calm me down the way you do, but at the same time drive me crazy.?"

You were the last couple to walk down. Joel seen this as an opportunity that he had you alone just for a moment. He swings you around to face him, his hands run down your body, his hands grip your ass as he presses his lips to yours. Kiss was short as he pulled away when it was your que to walk.

"That did the opposite of calming me..."

Joel chuckles.

•

The church was decorated beautifully, you went to your spot in line of the bridesmaids. In the crowd you spot your dad, your sister, and Sarah. The ceremony was tender and heartfelt. Even as much as you were annoyed with dolly she's your aunt and you are so happy that she gets her happy ending. The music plays to exit and your heart skips a beat. Eager to get back to Joel knowing that tonight's going to be a long one with all the family around. You meet in the middle linking your arm through his.

"That was beautiful."You say.

"You're beautiful... I need to get you alone."

You continue walking, trying to finish this conversation before you can't.

"How... Sarah will ride with you.. my family is here.. Tommy.. I'm overwhelmed Joel."

"I don't know. But I'll make it happen... actually maybe we shouldn't.. maybe just take a break from this.. I don't know.." Joel looks at you confused making you go dead silent.

"Fine then we won't." You look at him tears building.

You make it back to the lobby of the church, everyone mingling before it's time to move to the reception. You stand there with Joel, and Tommy. Walking to you is the group of your sister, your dad and Sarah.

"Hey girlllllll" Sarah smiles as she hugs you.

"Hi love, you look great. How are things!"

"Things are good! I'm living in Dallas now. Going to school, visit here when I can.. you know how my dad is.."

You laugh.. "yeahhhh I do..."

"So England.. how was that.? How's your beautiful man with that charming accent."

"Well considering he's engaged to someone that's not me.." you shrug.

"No way, did you tell dad. Let him handle him.. you seeing anyone.?"

You look over, Joel is listening.

"Um I don't know.. kind of.. it's I don't know what it is.. complicated definitely."

"Ohhhh is it... who who" Sarah squeals.

"Can't tell ya." You wink.

Sarah groans. "Ugh that's no fun. I want to know all the gossip."

Tommy comes over putting his arm around both you and Sarah.

"So what are we talking about?" He looks back and forth between the two of you. Joel still lingering talking to your dad.. well sort of just listening to your dad as he listens to your conversation.

"Nothing we were talking about nothing." You give Sarah the look.

Everyone starts leaving the church. You figured you'd catch a ride with your dad.

"Hey sweetie why don't you ride with Tommy. Told some people I could give them a lift."

"Sure dad." You hug him, as Tommy stands waiting. Like clockwork he opens your door and into the truck you go. Parked across is Joel.. and if looks could kill the truck would have been blown to smithereens. Sarah sits in the passenger seat talking as Joel speeds out.

•

This feels all too familiar. Like Deja vu almost.

"Sooo.." Tommy trails off. You turn to look at him, he's inches away. You could feel his breath. He smells of mint and sandlewood.

"Sooo." You smile. Tommy reaches over his hand on your thigh. You shiver under his touch as he moves his hand slowly till he reaches the fabric of your panties.

"This okay?" His drawl heavy and velvet. Lust filled almost.

You nod staring at him. Really realizing how beautiful he was. How gentle.

He doesn't go in he just runs his fingers across where your covered heat is. You whimper because as much as you hate to admit it and as much as it complicates things even more you do feel something.

"Tommy..." you moan. He gently presses his lips to you, warm soft and welcoming. Something about it was so delicate. Tommy's tongue traces your bottom lip asking to enter your mouth, you let him. His hand wrapping around the back of your neck pulling you in closer as his tongue swirls around yours. The grip on the back of your neck was just enough pressure to make you moan into his mouth.

"Fuck I don't think I'd ever get tired of hearing that."

He goes back into kissing you, deepening with every second your lips were on one another. You run your hands down his Chest, he goes to pull you to him and you pull back knowing if you go to him things will escalate to a point you don't know if you can handle at this moment.. it's not that you didn't want too because you kinda did.

At this point everyone has left the parking lot leaving you there.

"Tommy.. we gotta go.." you let out a deep breath as You sit there not knowing how to feel besides that this is fucked all the way up...

and Joel is going to be furious.

•

You reach the reception hall, you both were the last of the wedding party to arrive. Joel's face in a scowl.

"Where the fuck have you been.?" Joel asks his jaw tight, hands balled into a fist.

"Tommy drove. Dad made me ride with him..."

"I know that.." he looks at you not knowing how to feel. You aren't his. He ain't yours. Hell has your dad's best friend. He's Tommy's brother. Sarah's dad.

"Joel.. don't. I don't know what you want me to say.. what you want me to do... thought you just wanted to forget about it today.."

He looks away dead stare on Tommy.

The music plays.

All the pairs enter one by one. No cute finger playing this time. Just a firm lock on your arm.

Entrances end, everyone welcomes In dolly and Randy. You thank god you can attempt to get some space. You walk outside to the edge of the building. Footsteps coming behind you and arms wrap around your waist spinning you around.

"Hey you promised me a dance." Tommy's big brown eyes glimmer.

"I indeed did Tommy miller." You smile. His button up open. His tie still around his neck. His tank top clinging to him. He looks so good. "Give me a minute okay.. just overstimulated. I'll be in soon." He leaves you with a kiss on the check. You stand there for a few minutes more, watching Tommy walk back in noticing a figure in the distance that could only be Joel.

You turn back around facing the road watching as cars go by.. footsteps approaching.

"What the fuck are you doing. You think this is okay. Maybe Sheila was right."

Wide eyed you look at him.

"Joel.... you.. You don't mean that... it's just.. I don't know.. " He scoffs with a laugh.

"You think I'm stupid darlin. How it must feed your ego to have both of us wrapped around your finger... you leave for years then come back and fuck with my head.. hell even Tommy's head.

You roll your eyes

"Do I Joel.. do I really.. you can't touch me in public.. you whisper to me in secret.. Hell Half the time you avoid me or stand in the distance listening to me. You pull me in and then push me away.. you didn't pick me up this morning which led to me think you avoided me or you were regretting last night. then you come here acting like everything is fine.. then it's oh let's forget it all.. you are scared... you are scared that there is something here. Regardless of how messy and complicated.. And maybe Tommy isn't."

You storm past his shoulder checking him.

You rush to the bathroom, your face flooded with tears.

Knock knock

"Hey it's Sarah.. what's going on. You want to let me in?"

You open up, Sarah sliding in.

"Sarah I-" you just sob.

She takes you in to a hug. Petting your head.

"Sarah I'm so Confused ..."

You look up at her. "And I can't tell you I can't tell anyone."

There is a bang on the door.

"Sarah.. it's dad.. everything okay.?"

You couldn't tell him to go away because that would bring up questions.

"Yeah dad we will be out in a second." Sarah calls out.

"Can you ask her if it's okay if I talk to her.? Maybe I could help." She looks at you waiting for your answer.

"Yeah.. yeah fine." You shrug.

Sarah opens the door slipping out as Joel slips in.

He stands there , inches away waiting until Sarah has hopefully gone away. You look at him and just sob.

"C'mere baby I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. this is hard for me too.. I shouldn't have said those things.. shouldn't push you away."

"Joel.. I have to tell you something and you cannot freak out."

His grip around you tightens.

"I swear Joel. You can't... Tommy kissed me.. that's why we were late.. it was just a kiss and he gripped my thigh and they are sensitive because.." (you leave out a bit of information but it was nothing really.. kind of..)

You pull up the dress, the nail marks, with little purple bruises.

"Then I moaned and I didn't mean too but it just.." you were now rambling.

He looks at you and chuckles.

"Joel how is this funny.. and then you were an ass to me saying let's forget things and I can't I can't forget you.. I can't forget last night.. and I'm just fucking I don't know.. I'm fucking confused."

You pull back to look him in the eyes.

"Do you regret last night.?" His voice stern.

"No."

He kisses down your jaw, down your neck.

"Okay. So you won't mind if I do this."

His hand trails up your thighs digging his nails into those already left marks, you moan but he cuts you off with his lips to yours his tongue sliding in invading you.

He pulls away to look at you.

"Did Tommy do it like that.?" He whispers.

Your mouth drops.

"Joel.. don't.."

"Darlin you're mine.. do what you need to do but just know that."

"Joel you can't just say shit like that.." you bark at him.

He opens up the bathroom door walking out not answering you.. You wait a moment and you do the same.

•

The reception was lively. Everyone dancing. You dance mainly with Sarah and Tommy. Just having fun, goofing around like old times. Every now and then Tommy brushes your hand, and in those moments you swear you watch Joel clinch his jaw as he sits with your dad watching. The music switches to a slow song, Sarah gets taken by one of the groomsman,and Tommy stares at you.

"I guess I should keep my promise." You walk towards him , as he pulls you in. Wrapping his arms around your waist, your arms around his neck.

Tommy is warm. Warm like the sun.

His linger above your ear, you sway to the music comfortably.

"This is a change from the other night." You laugh.

"Yeah, good change though. Not sayin havin your body on me in that way wasn't.. this is just.. this is nice.. It's comforting."

You look up at him, his big brown eyes staring like you are the prettiest thing he has ever seen. You push a strand of his dark hair out of his face.

"You are comforting Tommy.. like a light in the darkness of my mind."

He goes to kiss your forehead, when a hand touches his shoulder.

"Little brother.. you mind if I cut in.?" Tommy lets go as Joel takes over.

"She's all yours." Tommy walks away, looking back as Joel grips on your waist.

Your body in shock. As you feel all the eyes in the room on you.

"Ballsy move Mr miller." You nuzzle your head into his shoulder. Maybe a little more comfortable than you should be.

"You said I didn't touch you in public and I was scared.. this is me proving somethin. You've consumed my every thought today. All I have wanted is to touch you in every way. That's why I watch you. Why I listen." you look up at him.. Joel shows his emotions in his eyes, you can tell he really means it.

"You are gonna start lots of rumors..." you smile.

"Not rumors if there is truth behind some of it.."

you notice Tommy in the corner talking to one of the other bridesmaids, everyone seems pre occupied, giving you a moment to do something that's been on your mind all day. You cup his face exactly how you did in the truck, him melting under your touch, you trailed your hand down his body to the top of his belt, you inch your hand to go lower when he grabs your wrist.

he looks down at you, his brown eyes now black.

"Meet me outside.. behind my truck.. 5 minutes."

The song ends you both walk towards the tables. Joel leaves you walking outside. You linger by the door hoping you can sneak out. You wait a few minutes and you bolt outside. Joel's truck is parked in the far side of the lot close to the woods. You walk down looking for him, not seeing him you walk to the opening of the woods when he peeks out from a tree pulling you into the woods.

You let out a shriek followed by his hand over your mouth.

"Quiet."Joel slips his hand under your dress.

"I just want to feel you. How soft, how wet, how warm."

You moan under his hand that's covering your mouth.

Your breath picks up as Joel dips two fingers in. You can't speak all you can do is moan against his hand which unironically is only stifling your moans a bit.

He doesn't take his time with you. It's too risky, he's too full of need. He inserts two fingers in pumping furiously into your wetness. Each pump you tighten on his fingers. Your on body fire. Your legs shaking e it didn't take long for him to know the exact spots on your body that drive you crazy.

"Joel.. Joel.." you manage to speak under his hand.

"Quiet baby"

Joel moved his hand as he does he hooks his fingers making you squeal which was cut off by his lips. For a moment it felt like everything froze and all that mattered was Joel kissing you. Long and hard, so much passion. There was no inviting one another in, his tongue owned yours, his teeth grazing over your bottom lip. It was like he was trying to prove something. Something to you. Something to himself. As much as you were enjoying his fingers this was 10000 better and that's how you knew you were truly fucked. You both pull away Joel moving his hands to hold your face staring at you. it's like a light bulb goes off.

"So what are we gonna do about this?" You ask out of breath. Joel's hands roam your body memorizing every inch of how you feel.

"What do you want." Joel lays sweet kisses on your shoulder.

"You. I want you."

Then we figure it out." Joel kisses your forehead.

You both freeze as footsteps approach quickly putting space between. You hide behind a tree as Joel walks back to the edge of the lot to see who was there. You stay there hidden. You listen in the distance when you hear that sweet silky voice.. Tommy.

•

"Hey big brother, have you seen her? Figured maybe she needed air."

You can't see too much through the trees but you can see just enough to see Joel's whole body tense up. You hated this. You hated that they were brothers. But maybe that's why you liked them so much in a twisted way the things the one didn't have the other one did.

"I haven't seen her, just came out for a smoke."

Joel put his hands on his hips,

The dad pose he does.

"Okay well if you do, just let her know I was looking for her."

"Sure sure.."

Joel walks away. Tommy lights up a cigarette. You lean on the tree debating if there was another way out of these woods. You watch for a bit, watching Tommy's body language, the way he stands, the way his puffs on the cigarette. Your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Joel, now these contradicting feelings for Tommy. He walks towards his truck, you inch towards the lot maybe gonna try to sneak out. You make it to the end and there he stands.

(Fuck that's not weird at all.)

"Hey" you smile.

"Hi sweetheart, where have you been.?"

(Shit think of a lie.)

"Um so I thought I seen a raccoon, and I love those guys, I haven't seen one since I been back home they don't have them in England.."

Tommy chuckles.

"Should have told me, I would have gotten it."

"No you would have shot it , Mr sniper man."

"Hey I could have made you one of those hats with the tail. You'd be pretty cute In that."

You laugh. Like really laugh. Something that hasn't happened in a while. Tommy grabs your hand swinging back and forth like teenagers.

"Should probably go back in.." you look at him.

"Yeah we probably should..." he trails off as he pulls you to him.

"Tommy... I.. I'm sorry I'm just overwhelmed.." you back away, his eyes fill with sadness.

"It's fine, I shouldn't come on so strong.."

"No you're fine it's me. I'm just a mess. You are great and sweet and fucking beautiful. I just need to figure my shit out."

"I understand that sweet girl I'm here for you no matter what. You think I'm beautiful?" He does that cheeky smirk.

You look into his pretty brown eyes, and you can't help but smile. It's like your body owns your mind you go in to hug Tommy again, he brings you in and just holds you there. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his tight grip on your waist. You lay your head on his shoulder.

"You are literally sunshine in human form."you whisper in his ear. You look up to see that grin.

Tommy lets you go.

"If I didn't move I was going to kiss you.. and I don't want to overwhelm you even more than you already are.. but just know that. "

You turn walking back into the building. Everyone is still dancing, Joel is back in the corner with your dad talking to some of the others. He's back to watching you, as soon as you entered it's like his body knew. Your body the same way it's like he has a spell on you. A few feet near him and you are done for.

"Hey there you are." Sarah runs over. "Where have you been, everyone's been asking.. Tommy especially what's going on there? Would be kinda weird he's my uncle but I mean.. why not yall would be cute.. and he's a good man.. "she shrugs with a smile

"Nothing, nothing is going on.. he just cares about me, the other night we talked about life... uhhh yeah.. okay... I think I need to go home.. um im gonna call a uber or somethin."

You run to the back grabbing your things. You throw everything into a bag and bolt out the door. You didn't know how but you needed to be anywhere but here. You decided to walk down the road a bit to the gas station.

You : where are you.

Joel miller : sitting here talking to your dad and Tommy. He seems chipper. Anything I need to know. Won't be mad. Where are you.? Haven't seen you in a bit.

You : I left.

Joel miller : where. I'm on my way.

•

You go into the gas station, buying whatever cheap liquor they have. You sit on the curb enjoying being alone just watching people come and go. 20 minutes since Joel's last text. About half the bottle gone now. You scroll through your phone. Ignoring all the incoming calls and texts.

Sarah miller : be safe. If you need to vent just tell me. I'm worried about you. Xoxo

Dad : hey baby girl you alright?

Tommy miller : 🦝

That made you laugh, and then when you looked up your heart felt like it was going explode.

Joel's truck in front of you, he parks it as he gets out.

"You came."

Joel picks you up off the curb. "You needed me. I'm here."

You both were done fighting your feelings, you were done being careful. (For tonight at least.) He pulls you in, hands on your face as his lips consume yours. You moan into his mouth, as his hands travel all over your body.

"Joel-". You manage to say between kisses.

"Take me somewhere, anywhere."

He stops long enough to put you In the truck closing your door. He drives for a bit, down some backroads until he reaches a field he pulls in to. It's dark but you can tell there are wildflowers everywhere, and the lightning bugs are out. He reaches In the back seat grabbing a few blankets he keeps in case of emergencies.

"Come on." He motions. You follow him as he lets down the gate to the bed of the truck. He throws the blankets in there before he helps you up.

You crawl in, Joel squeezing beside you.

"C'mere." He opens his arms

You nuzzle yourself into Joel. You finally let out a breath that you feel like you have been holding in all day.

"I've needed this all day." You say as you curl your self more into Joel.

Joel plays with your hair, letting out a deep breath himself. "I've needed you all day."

You look up at him, no words could say what either one of you were thinking. He leans down pressing his lips to yours. At first it was safe, it was a peck until he realized that you were alone. Completely alone. No one out here for miles. He pulled back just to look at you before he dove right back in. The hunger taking over. Messy kisses, kisses that felt like if you didn't do this now you would never have the chance again. He's taken over your mouth, his tongue all over his teeth graze your bottom lip gently nibbling and sucking on it, you let out a moan you swear people could hear from miles away. He doesn't tell you to be quiet he doesn't put his hand on your mouth he just makes his way kissing down your jaw to your neck. Your breath trembles as you feel his hand slip under your dress, rubbing all the way up your thigh.

You unbuckle his belt, then his pants. You kinda thought he would stop you.. but he didn't instead he pulls off his teeshirt he changed into before he came to get you. His lips find his way back to yours as he unzips your dress, you pull down his jeans his underwear with it. His hands kneed your breasts and he opens your legs getting Between, he hooks his fingers pulling your panties off, you lay naked under him. His hand cups your face as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"You sure bout this." Joel looks you in the eyes, your hips buck impatiently.

"Does it feel like I'm sure, because to me one I've never been wetter and two I have never wanted anyone as bad as I -" Joel cuts you off by one hard thrust into you, followed by 3 more getting your body adjusted to him.

"Fuck Joel, god feels so-"

Joel starts a rhythm, hard, deep , but steady. He wraps his hand around the back of you neck and he leans down, his body pressed on yours, you wrap your legs around pulling him in more making his thrusts hit your cervix, this makes your tighten your legs around him even harder.

"Yes that's it baby, I feel you clinchin on me.. good girl taking it so well."

Joel tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck pulling your head back, each thrust feels like you could levitate.

"Talk to me baby.. feel good?" Joel grunts as he holds your waist as he thrust in and out, in and out. You stare up eyes glisten high on lust.

"Harder." You choke out.

He pauses for a moment, looking down his thumb traces your bottom lip. Joel's eyes darken. Thunder rumbles, lightning fills the sky. Joel's grip on your waits tightens as he thrusts again one slow deep one before he switches completely. He holds you as he slams in over and over. You are taking every single inch of him. Thunder rumbles again followed by pounding rain. Joel doesn't stop if anything he fucks you harder as the rain comes down.

"Fuck yeah give it to me Joel." You cup his face , just have you done making him melt, making him lose control. You can't think it's just slam after slam inside you.

You stare into his eyes taking it all in. Then it hits you, that fire in your core, clinching tightly on him.

"You gonna cum f'me, did daddy fuck you hard enough."

You loved the filthy side of him, it took you to another level.

He thrusts in and out a few more times

"Mhmm yes.. don't stop... please don't- fuck Joel yes I'm coming.."

Rain is pouring all around you. Joel fucks you through your climax.

"We should get going." Joel sighs, truck bed wet, the blankets soaked, and you both look like you went swimming.

"No" you push Joel to lay down, you move yourself on top of him. Legs on each side straddling His cock still hard. You move your hips up just enough to line him up with you before fall back taking in all of him.

"Holy fuck" Joel curses.

You bounce your hips up and down, steady rhythm taking in all of him with each bounce. Your wet bodies slamming into one another, your wet long hair dripping. The rain comes down harder as Joel sits up wrapping his arms around you as you ride him. You lean back giving that arch to hit deeper.

"Fuckin pretty riding my cock. Clinching down on me already."

Joel lets out a growl as you pick up your pace.

"You gonna cum for me baby." You ask.

Something about that made Joel's demeanor switch. From dominating, to submitting to you.

You sink your hips up and down up and down, his grip tightens on your waist.

"Fuck yes baby ride my cock, just like that. I'm gonna fill you up"

You feel Joel's cock twitch inside of you, followed by his hot cum spilling inside. The rain still pouring, lightning strikes again.

You both hop out of the truck bed, attempting to find your now soaked clothes.

•

Joel cranks the heat in the truck attempting to get dry. His hands stay on some part of you. Your phone keeps buzzing but you just ignore it.

"Is Sarah staying home tonight?"

You look over at Joel.

"Yeah I think so, you want me to drop you home?"

"I left my dress there the other night.. should probably get it before someone sees it and asks questions.."

"Yeah we can go get it, I'll get you dry clothes too. If anything you can stay for a bit. Sure Sarah would like to spend time with you."

You look down getting anxious.

"Yeah I just I just don't know right now... Joel.."

"Yeah baby?"

"We definitely crossed a line.. something we can't take back.. something we can't go back from."

"I know.." he squeezed your thigh, not in a sexual way but in a way that told you that's it's okay.

•

You reach Joel's house, your soaked dress clinging to you. Giggling as you walk in until you freeze. Tommy and Sarah sit on the couch as your dress sits on the table. You all stare at one another waiting for someone to say something.

"So what's going on. Yall okay!?" Tommy asks.

You stand frozen. How are you here. How 20 minutes ago it was Joel just Joel. But now seeing Tommy it's all fuzzy. You look back and forth shaking.

"Got caught in the storm.. hit a back road, got stuck, she left her dress, came to get it before I take her home."

Joel chimes in. Always saving you.

You notice Tommy's body language. How he's quiet.

"Yeah I left it here the other night." You grab the dress off the table, your hands still trembling. "Um I should go..." you motion to the door.

"No stay, I can get you clothes. Come with me." Sarah gets up heading for the stairs and you follow. You make it up to her room and she shuts and locks the door.

"So what's actually going on, and please don't lie to me."

Tag list : @ohhoneypascal @mani-pedro @megangovier @littledes1re @shaunasrabbit @glitterspark @umadirectioner @darknight3904 @thoughtfullypinkgiver @iknowisoundcrazy @gardeniaviolets

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 30 (Final Chapter)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

First | Prev

Chapter 30

Stressed didn’t even begin to describe how Jason felt.

He passed his letter off a week ago. Steph made no promises, but he hoped she was more merciful than the serious turn of her mouth suggested, but he’d heard nothing since then. Did she give it to you? Had you already read it? If so, why hadn’t you reached out?

Silence was, of course, an answer, but silence was more painful than outright rejection.

In the days that followed, he overanalyzed what he wrote. Was it too much? Not enough? Were the gritty details necessary to make his point, or could he have softened the narrative with more flowery prose? No, that would have been a disservice to you. The truth wasn’t flowery, it wasn’t romantic. He had to accept that.

But the what ifs were killing him.

He couldn’t sleep, so the next best thing was to eat his feelings at Bat Burger. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but neither was beating the shit out of Black Mask’s goons. He could only tun laps around Park Row so many times before he ended up outside your apartment. Choking on a greasy burger sounded far less painful.

As he pushed through the doors that led out of the fast-food joint, a bag of burgers and fries tucked in the crook of his arm, the odd sense of being watched struck him. He learned to trust that instinct early on but continued down the sidewalk as if he hadn’t noticed.

When he rounded the corner three blocks later, he could still feel those eyes on him. It was unlikely that they were following him to knab one of his burgers. He slipped a hand under his jacket to grip the gun that hung off his belt.

“I know you’re watching me. You have for the last three blocks.”

“Boo. You’re no fun. This is what I get for going sans costume.”

Steph appeared suddenly behind him, her wild curls fastened by a purple bandana. Jason immediately relaxed as he pulled a few fries from his back. She stole one before he offered, not that he planned to because she pulled shit like this.

“What are you doing here?”

“I, the swift and agile Dionysus, come bearing the message of the fair Juliet to her Rhett Butler.”

Jason swore he was having a brain aneurysm. Where did one even begin with all the wrong in that singular statement, but he tried anyway. “You mean Hermes?”

“I do not.”

“Juliet is Shakespeare and Rhett Butler is Margaret Mitchell.”

“So?”

He couldn’t help himself. “They’re not even from the same era.”

“It’s all the same to me.”

She easily dodged the burger he lobbed at her head. It bounced a few times before stopping further down the sidewalk. She gasped, feigning a look of shock. “That was a perfectly good burger. How dare you?”

Jason reached for the second burger, prepared to waste another.

Steph threw up her hands. “Geeze, someone’s in a mood today. Did you completely miss the part where I said I have a message from your sweet lovebug. Still think that’s adorable, by the way.”

His hand fell from the paper bag, stunned. “What?”

She pulled a letter from her purse and waved it teasingly over her head. “A letter from Juliet to her fair Romeo.”

Why did people always use Romeo and Juliet as the pinnacle of romance? He had a long list of better literary couples. Lizzie and Darcy, Odysseus and Penelope. Hell, if she wanted to keep in the vein of Shakespeare, he would have suggested Benedict and Beatrice. Their love story was far more realistic.

“Dude, did I fry your brain or something?”

Jason dislodged himself from his internal monologue before it became an external monologue. After wiping the salt and grease off on his jeans, he reached for the letter.

She drew back before he could.

He scowled. “Seriously?”

“I really like her.”

His chest ached. “I really like her too.”

Like didn’t even begin to cover it, but his way his heart bled for you was no one’s business but his own. And maybe yours. Definitely yours.

“Oh, good. I’m glad we bot agree. Then you won’t take it personally when I tell you not to fuck this up. I’d have to pick her side in the divorce, and you’d never see me again.” She placed the letter in his outstretched hand. “And that would be a travesty.”

He chose not to reward that with a response.

Steph smirked. “Want to hear your horoscope for the day?”

“I’m sure it’s something about me being a dumbass for letting my pride get the best of me.”

“Something like that.” She punched him lightly on the arm. “Don’t wait too long to see her, alright? You two were made for each other.” Swiping another fry from his bag, she stuck out her tongue and bounded around the corner.

Jason waited a beat before he ripped into the letter, not wanting to appear too eager. Your letter wasn’t nearly as long as his. Just a single page written in green ink. He took that as a good sign. Knowing its contents terrified him, not knowing was worse.

Dear Daddy Long Legs,

Dear Bruce Wayne,

Dear Mr. Darcy,

Dear Red Hood,

Dear Jacob,

Dear Jason Todd,

A man with a million names.

As I list them out now, I realize you’ve succeeded in touching every aspect of my life, even the parts I wasn’t aware of. That was never more glaringly obvious now that you’re no longer in it. When I accepted the Jason Todd Memorial Scholarship (along with all the strings attached), I promised myself that I’d never fall in love with my mysterious benefactor like Miss Abbott had, but here I stand.

I have fallen irrevocably in love with you.

Every mask, every name. Red Hood, Jacob, Jason. Whatever name you choose is inconsequential because it’s the man behind the name who’s stolen my heart. That was always the case.

I accepted that in loving you, I would have to exist in shades of gray. Admittedly, learning you were also the man behind my scholarship made gray a little muddier than I would have liked. I had no idea how to respond to the revelation at the time. I panicked, but I now see it came from a place of good intentions.

Your intentions have always been good.

You are good.

I know you don’t believe me, but seeing as you’re human, you’re allowed to make mistakes. I’ve seen your heart, the fire in your eyes, and all the scars that come with doing good.

I love you more for it.

You don’t have to do anything with this letter, but I thought you should know how I really feel, and this seemed like the most appropriate way to tell you.

I’ve been patient.

I can continue to be patient.

There are chapters of your life that you’d rather not talk about, and I respect that. Just know that it’s the man you are today that I fell in love with, not the man you were.

My heart is yours, should you choose to accept it.

You know where to find me when you’re ready.

Reading your letter had always given him this warm, cotton-soft feeling in his chest, and this time was much of the same until he read ‘I have fallen irrevocably in love with you’.

That’s when he started to burn.

You loved him.

He’d almost written similar sentiments, but writing those exact words made it real. There would be no turning back because Jason loved with his entire being. But seeing those words, he realized it was already too late. He was so hopelessly in love with you. All the signs were there, but the idea that Jason could love and have that same love reciprocated was a foreign concept.

You chose him.

You continued to choose him. Even when he felt he didn’t deserve it. Being wanted despite all his flaws was new territory for him. There was always this unspoken expectation that he had to do more, be more, but you weren’t asking for anything but his love.

He needed to see you.

Now.

It couldn’t wait another second.

You’d waited for him to make the first move long enough. This time, it was Jason’s turn to bridge the gap.

***

Jason arrived outside your apartment twenty minutes later, dressed in his street clothes. No Red Hood, no shitty disguises, he wanted to face you as himself.

As Jason Todd.

The last time he tried this, it didn’t end well, but he was determined to do everything right this time. His stomach lurched with anticipation as he approached the call box. A month wasn’t very long in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like an eternity when he’d gotten used to seeing you daily.

He buzzed your apartment and waited.

Silence.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

He wandered around the back to check your window that emptied out onto the fire escape. The blinds were closed, your apartment dark. He flexed his fingers irritably.

Ah, fuck.

Alright, new plan.

He’d find the highest building in Gotham and jump off it, because he should have realized you’d be working around this time. Grand romantic gestures only worked if you were home.

He left the way he came, heading toward the subway terminal a few blocks down. A full moon brightened the sky, lighting his way as he walked. Disappointment simmered in his chest. And here he thought nothing would go wrong. A bitter laugh burbled from his throat as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

It was a stupid idea anyway.

He should have sent you a text to ensure you were—

“Jason?”

He stopped dead, blood coating his veins like ice. His gaze lifted to you, standing a few feet away. No uniform, but you wore your yellow hoodie. It was such a welcome sight that yellow might just be his new favorite color. You gripped a canvas bag filled with groceries with a trembling fist as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Jason?”

You stepped toward him.

He matched your step with one of his own, holding out his arms timidly as he presented himself. “That’s my name.”

Another step. He could almost touch you, and shit, he wanted to more than anything. One more step. He brushed your cheek softly with the ridge of his knuckles featherlight in case you were a vision, and his touch was the thing that would bring reality crashing down again.

And if that was the case, seeing you was a beautiful dream that he never wanted to wake up from.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, confirming that you were real. That this was real. Emboldened, his fingers curled around the base of your neck, drawing you in. “Jason, Jacob, Jensen, Jerimiah. I’ll call you whatever you want if it means you’ll stick around long enough to hear me call you it.”

He cracked a small smile. “Jason is fine.”

“So, Jason.”

God, he loved the way you said his name. To think, he’d deprived himself of the pleasure of hearing it spill from your lips.

“I assume you got my letter?”

“I did,” he confirmed, “And you got mine?”

“More of a light novel if you ask me,” you teased as you smoothed the front of his jacket. His heart hammered beneath the slow drag of your palm. “But I don’t mind. You know how to tell a captivating story.”

“And you still want to give me your heart?” He pressed his forehead to yours. “After reading it?”

“I really do.”

“I would offer mine as well.”

His free hand settled on the small of your back. It felt like coming home. You felt like home. It might be the sappiest thing to ever cross his mind, but he didn’t care. It was the truth, and the truth felt as nice as the warmth of your body pressed to his.

“But I think you already have it,” he continued as he traced the length of your nose with the tip of his. You nudged it, nearly bridging the gap between your lips. “You stole it the moment I met you.”

“My apologies.”

His lips grazed yours. “Don’t apologize. You were always meant to have it. I want you to have it.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I don’t want to lie to you anymore. I love you with every fiber of my being, and being apart from you feels like dying all over again.” He cupped your jaw loosely. Tears gathered in your eyes, and he wiped them away with his thumbs. “If you’re willing to give me another chance, give us another chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.”

You twined your fingers through his, your chest now flush with his. It still wasn’t enough. He needed to get you closer. Temptation burned like an open flame, threatening to turn him to ash. “Will you let me?”

“I forgave you the moment you left.”

His breath caught in his throat. “We really are idiots, aren’t we?”

“No. I’m stubborn and rightfully cynical of the world, and you were afraid of losing me. Your fears were founded given the way I reacted, but I’m not going anywhere. I now see the appeal of shades of gray, and I don’t think anything is scaring me away now.”

“So, you’ll let me love you?”

In lieu of an answer, you kissed him.

Jason melted. His lips worked fervently against yours until his lungs ached, but even then, he didn’t stop until you broke away first. You kissed the tip of his nose. “I love you, Jason Todd.”

Jason Todd.

Not Jacob.

Not Red Hood.

But Jason fucking Todd.

At the back of his mind, several questions surfaced. What about the scholarship? What about your education? Was he ready to come back from the dead? To move on, and pursue the dream he’d put on hold for the sake of revenge and anger?

He shoved those nagging questions away and pulled you in for another kiss. He poured everything into it. His love, his devotion, and all the dreams he’d put on hold because he thought it was too late for him.

It wasn’t too late.

Admitting that to himself, he felt like he was shucking a weight he’d carried for far too long. Neither of you needed to have the answers to those questions right now. Life was all about figuring things out. Being human was about figuring it out. You and Jason would navigate that path together, deciding which chapters mattered and which were best left in the past.

Because there was still so much life left to live.

And Jason couldn’t wait to finally live.

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

A/N: And that's a wrap. I want to thank everyone who's followed along with this story. Your support really gave me the motivation to keep going and your support meant the world. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

If you weren't aware, I am working on a Tim Drake x Reader fic that takes place in the same universe as Dear Daddy Long Legs, so keep an eye out for that if you're interested.

I'll likely make a post as it gets closer to being ready to post, but if you'd like to be tagged in future updates for that fic, let me know :)

Again, thank you all so much. This fic was so much fun to write.

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

Tag List

Let me know if you want to be added!

@bungunz @emu-lumberjack @goldendistrict @qardasngan @rues-lovely-memoir @sawendel @banana-lol @anuttellaa @k-tblog @wujiscarrot @umiexe @4rachn3 @rheaphobic @flowery-fa @theendofthematerialgworl @overthebriarpatch @moonsunlights