#and I desperately needed to get it out before it disappeared forever

[blue-silver-hammer]

I think what you said about the last king of faerie referring to the unseelie king is very interesting and just might be possible thought I’m unsure as to how Thule will come back into the story other than the fact that Janus is from there. Based on Janus seeking out Clary I can’t see him going back and forth between the two dimensions so maybe instead of them going to Thule, Thule!Simon comes to the regular dimension seeking Janus as he promised to kill him. However, now that I am thinking about it more Janus did promise Lily in Forever Fall that he would reunite her with Raphael so there has to be a way to Thule.

As for Dru going to Faerie to seek out Jaime I think that is the only thing that makes sense but I don’t think Jaime being missing is what the Clave is going to be so desperate to solve as he has been missing for over a year by that point. Even though Jaime is related to Diego I can’t see him being missing so important that all of the Clave-in-exile will be trying to solve but he is important to Dru that she’d want to go find him especially if she feels like nothing is being done to find him.

Based on the prologue we have I think that the wild fae, Mother Hawthorn specifically, are going to play an important role going forward especially since we don’t know what Mother Hawthorn told Kit in SoBH.

I know everyone thinks that the mysterious disappearance that Kit and Ty are going to solve is about Livvy as Kit is the only one that Ty thinks can help him but I don’t see how Livvy can go missing and not have Ty be incapacitated even with the necklace given to him by Magnus lessening the effects of the necromantic bond between them. It also doesn’t make sense as Cassie said everyone is trying to solve it. At that point in the story the only ones that know about Ty raising Livvy are Kit, Dru, Magnus, and most likely Ragnor though I don’t think it has been officially confirmed that Ragnor knows that Ty went through with the ritual after he refused to give Ty the catalyst after they had gathered the ingredients needed for the spell. However, they do seem to be good friends as they got along well in SoBH. Based on those two things it can’t be Livvy even if it seems like the most likely scenario.

Overall there is only one character I can think of that is important enough to cause that kind of reaction and that is Clary.

While I am not sure how likely this theory is I can see it going something like this:

Dru goes to Pandemonium to see Simon’s band perform with Thais and the TMI crew. Like usual, Alec and Clary leave to go get tacos and Lily comes and distracts Alec while Janus approaches Clary and kidnaps her. As this is from Dru’s POV she is unaware of this happening and so returns to academy clueless and gets in trouble with Luke (based on the snippet we have) as she left the academy without permission. Later it will be revealed that Clary is missing prompting a wide spread effort to find her which upsets Dru as she feels like Jaime is being cast aside and so she goes to find him herself while everyone else looks for Clary. It will also give her the chance to find out why she has lost three days of time.

The only part I struggle with in regards to this theory is Ty and Kit’s plot line. I can see Ty being given a mission to find her as a centurion and he goes to Kit because he it gives him an excuse to seek him out and he might have some idea of his fae heritage as it is possible that he saw Kit vanish the riders and that there is information in the schoolmates about the First Heir as Auraline was born before the scholomance closed as part of the first accord signings. With Janus’ connection to the fae having someone of that heritage could help him out in his search. Their road trip could be them going to places Janus has been trying to find where he has hidden Clary. Ash has hinted in SoBH that Janus has been planning something that seems to go beyond just making Clary his as he mentions the fall of the nephilim and that they — the shadowhunters— don’t know that they are doomed.

Based on what we know of the Seelie Queen, I can see her making an alliance with the Princes of Hell as she believes that there is no way the shadowhunter can win against them and she always wants to be on the winning side. With Janus being somewhat loyal to the Court through Ash he would be involved in that plot as well. Maybe Janus is trying to find Lucifer which goes well with the tile of the second book being the Last Prince of Hell as Lucifer is the only one that hasn’t made a previous appearance.

This could be how Dru plot line and Ty and Kit’s plot line converge as Ash is going to pull Dru into the matters of faerie and Ty and Kit learn that the Princes of Hell are making their move. They both can wind up in faerie and the book ends with agreeing to go with mother Hawthorn to train more in his powers so he stands a chance fighting against the princes of Hell.

The blackthorn sword being reforged can also be included in this part as it was a blade originally forged by Wayland the Smith giving it similar properties (an angel wing in the hilt) of Cortana.

Once the blade is reforged it will most likely be wielding by Dru or Ty. It is most likely Dru as the main female character but as the flower book mentions that her signature weapon is Livvy’s saber it might actually be Ty as Jesse was the last one to wield the sword and Ty has been compared a lot to Jesse so it might be him instead. Either one of them would work as both have an equal claim to the sword as Blackthorns.

I think at the time of Cassie writing TMI that it was supposed to be Jace and Sebastian but Ash and Kit fit the description as well that she could easily have it be referring to them instead.

I have just had thoughts.

We know that Thule will obviously feature again in The Wicked Powers. CC has said that the location of the black volume of the dead, as well as what happened to thule!simon, will be addressed. What i just realized after rereading TDA for the tenth time is that almost all the clues given so far relate to Thule.

The last king of Faerie? In Thule the Unseelie King united the courts and is currently ruling over them with Erec as his heir. And Julian told Thule!Livvy his true name before leaving. And Thule!Liivvy is around seventeen or eighteen, which is the age Kit and Ty will be in TWP. I cant help but assume that Kit and Ty will encounter Thule!Livvy at some point because they're around the same age- maybe by Kit and Ty somehow ending up in Thule!Faerie?

Also, Thule!Mark is missing and we can assume he's with the Wild Hunt in Faerie, which does not have the blight as the mortal world in Thule, meaning there's a strong chance that he and Janus (due to his extra angel blood) are literally the only two candidates for still retaining their Shadowhunter powers, which may tie in to the third book's title- The Last Shadowhunter. And obviously the second book is related to the epilogue of the Lost Book of the White, and the events of the Black Volume of the Dead.

Besides, the problem that Dru goes to Faerie for at the start of TLKoF? I bet it's Jaime being missing. CC said everyone's looking for a solution to the problem, so either everyone at this point knows about the missing Jaime and can't trace him in Faerie (because Kieran would know where he is on Unseelie lands), or it's another demonic problem. I bet the separate problem Kit and Ty are having is related to Livvy's ghost.

Also, remember the dreams Clary had in the early mortal instruments? Of her seeing Jace and Sebastian circle each other, Jace with white wings and Sebastian with black wings? Well, that didn't happen, but there IS someone who looks like Sebastian and has black wings- Ash. And conversely there IS someone who looks like Jace, too- Kit. Who hasn't sprouted white wings yet, but has fey heritage just like Ash. They're technically related, even- the Seelie Queen is Kit's great great great whatever grandmother, so they even partly trace the same lineage. Somehow I think the prophetic dreams Clary had were not of Jace and Sebastian, but Kit and Ash.

All this to say i have no idea how I'm going to wait 1.5 more years for TLKoF. Istg I'll have finished a PhD by the time this series finally ends

[lothbats9000]

Take my super quick 2am speed paint Leo that I did to practice colors and test a couple brushes! (I say speed paint but this still took like 2 hours heheh)

[ellabscrush]

— fucking you behind the screen.

thinking about getting pounded by your gamer girlfriend’s strap while unmuted..

pairings; gamer!ellie williams x reader

cw; men and minors don’t interact, making out, strap use, breeding kink, agoraphilia, r uses “daddy” to ellie once, language, dom!ellie, sub!reader.

ways you can help, boycott, do not support neil.

“jesse the fuck was that?” ellie laughs at the guy behind the mic when he missed the shot.

“dina, get him!” she shouted, “fuck yeah!”

your girlfriends excessive cursing and yelling across the room made you snap out of your phone while scrolling on tiktok, wondering if she was about to break her setup right about now.

it was mid winter and the apartment was freezing so you threw on a zip up over your top underneath, feeling the warm athmosphere disappearing from your body as you walked out your room.

“holy shit els, it’s freezing” you said shivering tensely towards the living room, but she didn’t hear you.

“took out your friend.. fucking cunt.”

not gonna lie, her little frustrated grunts and insults were very attractive, you thought. you stared at her hands switching in between buttons, her eyes glued on the screen showing her focus, manspreading enough room for you to eat her out down there.. she looked too good.

you plopped yourself on to the couch, loud enough to make her turn over, pausing her activity. she sets down her headphones and took a long look at you.

she lays back on her chair, “hey you,” she sighs.

“you almost done?” you asked, desperate for some attention.

“almost,” she replies, “this game is pissing me off anyway.”

you smiled, having a silent moment between the two of you. there was a familiar tension, but unsure wether you should go along. ellie kept scanning you up and down like she hadn’t seen you in forever, technically she hadn’t since she’d been playing all day.

“you need somethin?” you asked with confused expression.

“do i look like i need something?” she teased, licking her lips.

you shrugged, shyly looking down as you we’re hiding the redness forming in your face. you couldn’t act normal around her when she looked this good, i mean she always looks good. you soon got up from the couch, walking towards your girlfriend, giving her a long wet kiss.

“you should take this off” she insisted while tugging at your zipper, her tone switching making you go insane.

ellie, being her clumsy self, didn’t mute.

“get a room!” jesse and dina yells from the speaker, unaware the two could listen to you both smothering eachother.

“shut up,” she pulls down the mic, “i’ll get on soon.”

you burried yourself in the crook of her neck from embarrassment and laughed. she pulled you in for a deeper kiss, pulling up your one thigh and the other on to her lap.

“can we make this quick?” ellie asks making you confused, “take this shit off,” she demanded quietly, making sure her friends doesn’t hear.

“just mute it ellie,” you giggled in between the kisses.

she lets out another smirk, this time having an idea behind it.

she whispers in your ear that made you shiver a bit hearing her talk in such a dirty way as she fills you in on her plan. contemplating her genius yet scary idea, you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rushing up on you. it turned you on and so you agreed.

“suck.”

ellie puts her middle and ring finger in your wet mouth, prepping it with your saliva before it goes in you. she turns her chair towards her pc, leaving a bit of room for you.

“stream your screen,” she speaks into the mic, “i’ll just watch you both from here.”

a few minutes later, her strap was going in and out behind you, making you cry just trying to keep your moans in. back arched and both hands on the rim of the table infront of you as ellie make your stomach turn.

“shh, can’t let them hear you now.”

“mmph.. so deep..” you whimpered.

at this point you were barely clothed, nipples poking through the see through, thin fabric of your bra. ellie gropping your perky tits as hard as she wanted, you were hers. she could do whatever she wanted.

her hips moving faster and faster, holding yourself up with just two grips on her white desk. her praises for keeping quiet were not helping, it made you even louder.

“you look so slutty right now,” she basically drooled, “asking to get fucked under that jacket?”

“y-yes” you say quietly, “fuck daddy.”

the name made ellie flustered. her hand grabbing your jaw while your mouth was hanging open dry, she stared at the long silicone disappearing inside of you.

“ellie- i cant-“ you squeeled as you tried reaching her arms, begging for some gentleness.

“yes you can,” she whispers in your ear, “be a good girl and let me fuck you in secret, okay?”

you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, so you just nodded. ellie kissed down your neck to your shoulder as a reward for listening, being a good girl just for her.

“gonna fuckin’ breed you..” ellie muttered in your ear, “being s-such a good mama for me.”

it started getting rough, more than before. the image in your head of what you two looked like right now, or even getting caught by her friends made you more horny. your body started shuttering and the familiar feeling of pleasure in your thighs took over.

“please baby..” you moaned trying to keep your composure.

“faster?” she asked knowing the answer, “yeah i know you want it faster, love.”

your girlfriend started pounding you like crazy while firmly gripping your swollen ass.

“perfect fucking ass sucking it in.. godd.”

the little action figures on the desk falling, table hitting the wall, making you realize how loud you two were being.

“mm ellie too much..” you whined, “please slow down!”

suddenly, she couldn’t take your begging anymore. as much as she loved hearing you, she had to shut you up. her hands quickly covered your mouth, “quit talking,” she growled.

“you have to keep it down, can you do that?” she raises her eyebrow while making eye contact with you, basically making this harder for you purposely.

“answer my fucking question. do you want me to stop?”

“no.. els no,” was all you could mumble out, “fuckk”

that last moan alerted the two on the other side of the screen, luckily ellie saved it.

“yo ellie you good?” jesse asks, “uh yeah! just bumped my knee.”

“idiot,” he laughed.

that was close. your quick taps on her hand covering your mouth lured her attention back on you, begging with teary eyes to cum. ellie was full in lust looking at you being a needy whore bent over.

she took the palm of he hand out and put her thumb in your mouth while continuing to pound you hard. your mumbled words were frustrating her, “words baby, words.”

she pushes you back towards her chest, “need your cum..” you begged looking up at her, “fuck me please.”

with that, your wishes came true as she railed you deep and faster. making you reach your climax with every thrust coming in and out of your hole.

“ellie!-“

“shut it,” she covers your mouth again aggressively, slapping your ass with one free hand. the gesture secretly making you more close to orgasming.

“that’s my slut getting fucked behind for everyone to hear.”

you couldn’t help yourself but moaned, not even caring who could hear you at this point.

“yeah?” ellie mocks, “like it that much?”

you nodded. your girlfriend feeling better right about now for letting her take it all out on you over a game.

“i’m fucking cumming.. holy shit,” you pant out of breath, feeling the turns in your stomach and liquid dripping down your thighs.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby” ellie groaned, “make you.. all mine.”

“yes cum in me oh my god!”

she grabs your shoulders, “take my fucking dick.. f-fuck.”

ellie swore she could feel you, seeing the white ring forming on the strap made her smile just knowing no one else could fuck you this good.

“i love breeding you baby.. fill you up with that warm.. sticky cum, yeah?” ellie continues to please you as you ride out her strap, “goodd girl.. it’s okay mama.”

“els i’m shaking,” you whined, “no more..”

“you did good baby.”

don’t worry, she was actually muted this time.

[v3nic3b]

𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

Warnings: 18+, p in v, unprotected sex

Anakin grunts, irritated, as the sound of his com-link echoes through the room, amidst the clothes scattered on the floor—remnants of the previous night’s activities. The sound of the device cuts through the comfortable silence of the morning, an inconvenient reminder of his duties at the Jedi Temple, signaling that his time alone with you has come to an end.

He tries—in vain—to untangle himself from your body without waking you. You immediately open your eyes, fixing your sleepy gaze on the young Jedi who is getting out of bed. You move your left hand, trying to bring him back to bed. “Ani, come back. Now.”

A soft smile escapes his lips as he leans in to place a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep, love.” The faint morning light casts a gentle glow on his golden curls, which cascade softly over his forehead. “Obi-Wan is waiting for me.”

“Please” you say, looking at him with doe eyes, gripping his arm more firmly in an attempt to pull him back into the bed. Surprisingly, he gives in. The mattress sinking under his weight. “Babe, I...” he starts to protest, but suddenly shudders as you begin placing kisses along his jaw. “Need you,”

“That’s... not fair.” He draws in a shaky breath, his morning arousal pressing against your thigh. You know it isn’t—still, you find yourself trying to hold on to every brief second with him, as if by sheer will, you could stretch them into eternity. “Want you, Ani... Inside.” You whisper as you wrap one of your legs over his body, hooking it around his waist.

All the self-control he has disappears, and he attacks your lips with raw intensity, every fiber of his body consumed by his need for you. “Fuck, babe” and before you can let out another desperate plea he’s inside you.

A soft groan escapes your lips. Eyes fluttering shut, as your hands reach up to tangle gently in Anakin’s hair. Low, incoherent pleas spilling from his mouth as he starts moving, his face hidden against the warmth of your neck. Your sounds echoing through the room, like a prayer.

“Mhmm, so... so good, Ani—making me feel so good.” Anakin bites your shoulder as he intensifies his thrusts, dragging his cock in and out at a faster pace, nearly bursting into flames at being praised. “Fuck... squeezing me so tight, babe... shit.” He grips your hips, pulling you closer as if he feared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on.

The new angle pushes you towards the edges of an orgasm and before you realize it, your breathing fails and you are coming undone. He lifts his head and watches you, intently, as your body rode it out. After a few more thrusts, Anakin cums, collapsing on top of you. His mind hazy, wanting nothing more than to remain in this moment forever.

The sunlight pours into the room, and for a moment, all that can be heard is your heavy breathing, until Anakin's com-link buzzes again. “Shit, Obi-Wan’s gonna kill me.”

divider by saradika-graphics

[leighsartworks216]

Sleepy Kitty

Sylus x gn!Reader

What if you became the cat and also got that sleepy cat feature with the service?? Think about it

Warnings: fluff, silly, cat ears and tail, cuddling, panic, some sort of a relationship going on, Xavier cameo

Word Count: 1,672

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your heart can’t sit still, torn between aching and frantically racing in a frenzied panic. Every time you look into the mirror, you start freaking out. You had to call in sick this morning with a poor excuse, cancel all your plans for today and tomorrow, and try to figure out a solution to your problem:

You are a cat.

Well, you have the ears and tail, at least. At first, you can’t believe it. But sure enough, they’re real. Real and not disappearing.

You tug desperately at the fluffy ears, yanking on them, praying they’ll just disappear in a poof of smoke like it never happened. Instead, all you get is pain that has you scrunching up your face as you keep pulling on them, begging for this nightmare to end.

“Oh, sweetie.”

You yelp, diving into the blankets of your bed. “Go away! Don’t look at me!” You hide in the warm darkness, keeping the blankets held down tight over your head so they can’t be pulled off.

Sylus’s sigh is muffled as he crosses from your bedroom’s doorway to your bed. The mattress sinks down with his weight. “This is why you cancelled our plans today?”

You stubbornly don’t answer.

“Sweetie, ignoring me isn’t going to make me leave faster. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine, just go away,” you insist.

“You really need to get better at lying.”

He grabs your tail as it flicks out from under the blanket. You have to release the blankets to grab it back from him, and he uses that opportunity to uncover you entirely. The jig is up, but you refuse to turn and face him. Your new cat ears lay flat on your head. Even in your hold, your tail is flicking with irritation.

He reaches out to touch the cute ears you despise so much, but you swat his hand away at the first brush. He can’t help his amusement - you really are a kitten.

“Stop laughing! It’s not funny!”

“Of course not,” he agrees, but the sincerity is obscured by his chuckle petering out. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened?”

You heave a long sigh. It hitches at the end as reality starts to crash down on you once more. “I don’t know. I mean, I just woke up this morning and,” you release your tail in favor of grabbing the fluffy tips of the cat ears, drawing them down on your head painfully, “these were here. And now they won’t go away!”

“Stop that,” he chastises you. He takes your hands, freeing the ears from your cruelty. His long fingers intertwine with yours as he wraps his arms around you, making you hug yourself at the same time, and drawing you into his lap. “We’ll figure it out.”

You give in, slowly relaxing back into his broad chest and the warmth he radiates. Your tail taps rhythmically against his leg as it swishes back and forth over your bedsheets.“What if we don’t? What if I’m stuck like this forever?”

He kisses your head. Your ears stand up and brush his cheeks. He tries not to chuckle at how plainly your emotions have been laid bare. “We can worry about that later, after we’ve exhausted all possibilities. Deal?”

“... Deal.”

-

It is now mid-day. The sun is shining bright, the rest of the day is still to come, and you are sleepy. The kind of sleepy that makes you feel heavy and sluggish; that makes a big blanket sound like utter heaven.

Sylus is tired, too. His exhaustion, however, comes from staying up far past his usual bedtime. He’s much better at hiding it. Meanwhile, you’re yawning every other minute, rubbing your eyes, leaning against him whenever you’re at a standstill. For those last several minutes, he’s been leading you back to his car. You don’t realize what’s going on until he’s already driving.

“Mm, where are we going?” You frown out of the passenger side window. It doesn’t take long before your head is resting against the glass, cushioned by the beanie from your closet meant to hide the cat ears.

“Back to your place.”

“What for?”

He shoots you an amused grin. “It’s bedtime, kitten. We both need a nap.”

“Huh? No, wait, I’m fine!” You sit up straighter, crossing your arms and staring determinedly out the windshield. “I’m up, see? We can keep going.”

“Fine. I’ll take a nap and you can watch.”

The drive is quiet. The expensive car blocks out most of the noise outside. The radio is off, but the AC hums as it blows warm air. Sylus glances over frequently, watching as you slowly, slowly sink deeper into the heated leather seat. Your head rests awkwardly on your shoulder as you blearily glare at the passing buildings. The next time he looks over, your eyes are closed.

He pulls into the parking lot with ease. You don’t show any signs of waking up as he kills the ignition. Honestly, he’s glad for it. The entire time you’ve been trying to piece together the mystery, you kept working yourself up into a panic. Any more of that, you would make yourself sick from stress.

He rounds the car and carefully opens your door. In between unbuckling you and lifting you into his arms, he can’t help admiring you. The beanie is crooked, there’s bags under your eyes, and he’s never seen anything more beautiful than you right now.

The apartment building is very nice, especially with your finances. He nudges the elevator call button with his elbow and waits for it to come down. The silver doors open to reveal a blonde man in a white hoodie. Instead of getting out, the man keeps the doors from closing, watching him with sharp blue eyes as he steps in.

“What happened to them?”

Sylus puts on an easygoing grin. “They aren’t feeling well today. Don’t worry, they’re in good hands.” He nudges the button for your floor and quirks a brow at the man. “This not your stop?”

The man lets go of the doors, standing opposite from Sylus with his arms crossed and staring him down. “I’m just making sure they get home okay.”

With the slightest of shrugs, Sylus looks straight ahead, seemingly ignoring the man as the doors close and the elevator starts to move. The tension in the small space is heavy; it extends to every corner and between the little numbered buttons. Neither of them do anything to dissipate it.

When the door opens again, it’s like the pressure it released. The air in the hall completely overwhelms the distrust in the tiny elevator. It doesn’t disappear entirely, but it’s easier to breathe out here than in there.

The blonde man follows behind as Sylus carries you to your apartment door. He thinks you’ve told him about this coworker of yours before; you go out on missions together often. Funny - of all the times you’ve mentioned him, you never said anything about him behaving like this.

Sylus slides your legs further up his arm to free his hand. The man stares at the knob as he places his thumb on the lock. When it beeps and lights up green, he seems to relax a little, so slight that it’s only due to Sylus’s lifestyle that he was able to pick it out.

He pushes open the door and turns back to the man. “Will that be all?”

Blue eyes stare down appraisingly. Sylus can’t shake the way it unsettles him deeply, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and his body preparing to fight if the need arises. Some background checks into this guy are now a necessity with how close he works and lives to you.

But the man nods. “Tell them I hope they feel better soon.”

“Of course.”

And just like that, the man is heading back to the elevator with a lazy yawn. Sylus shuts the door. He sighs heavily, looking down at your peaceful face. “You’re lucky I had the liberty of putting my print in your system,” he says. “I don’t think he’d have reacted well if I teleported in here.”

Your apartment is exactly how you both left it this morning. He follows the familiar path to your bedroom, bedsheets rumpled and covered in clothes from when you tried finding an outfit that could hide your tail. He gestures vaguely with his hand. Red and black tendrils of energy gather the clothes and stack them elsewhere to deal with later. Another tendril pulls down the blankets for him.

Being careful not to disturb you, he lays you down on your bed. You look soft, delicate. Completely vulnerable, and yet sleeping undisturbed even as he looms over you. He pulls the blankets up over your body and slides the hat off your head. Your fluffy cat ears shift and twitch slightly from being exposed to the open air once more, before they relax.

He stands up to go to the couch, but something holds onto his arm. When he looks, your tail has slipped from under the covers and the clothing you used to hide it, just to hold onto him. It was soft. It really would only take the slightest effort to slip free from its grasp, but when he started to step away, you started to frown. With an amused chuckle, he opens the blankets again and nudges you aside, before climbing into the bed.

You reposition yourself to use his chest as your pillow, arms wrapped around him and legs tangling with his. Your tail slips from his arm to curl around his waist.

And then you start purring. He smiles. Tentatively, he pets your ear. It twitches at first, before relaxing into his touch. You nuzzle your face over his heart.

“Sleep tight, kitten,” he whispers. His hand continues to lazily pet you as he closes his eyes. Your purrs act like a soothing balm to his soul as sleep slowly takes hold.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[nerdlvr]

jeno breeding/impreg kink

(MDNI)

jeno wants babies ofc , everything is consensual , jeno has a big dick ofc , unprotected sex (wrap that dick up pls) , rough sex , pet names, a lot of bad words , lil bit of ass slapping , face down ass up, not proof-read cause my writing makes me cringe , requested here !

as jeno watched you from across the room he couldn't help but notice how natural holding a baby was for you. your soft hands caressing the baby's face, a slight pout to your lips as you spoke to him. you had this sort of glow to you, a motherly glow, and in a sick twisted way, seeing you like this made his pants tighten.

why did people say you had to wait to have children? right now all jeno could think about was you, full and plump with his child, breasts swollen and skin glowing. he could make you his completely. forever.

"hi pretty girl."

jeno's arm's snaked around your waist, pulling you into his chest before leaning down to plant a kiss to your forehead. you smiled up at him,

"hi jen, thank you for coming by the daycare today, the kids love you."

he left out a soft hum in agreement, hands traveling down to grab your ass lightly, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he planted light kisses to your neck. you giggled, trying to push him away, his arms holding you tighter,

"i like going, like seeing you like that."

you relaxed into his arms, his teeth nipping at your collarbones,

"like what jen?"

he bit at the skin lightly, hands moving up and under your shirt, goosebumps rising on your body as his cold hands rubbed your back.

"like a mother, can't stop thinking about filling you up with my babies, fuck- you'd look so good."

his hands moved forward to rub at your belly, his bulge growing impossibly harder. you moved you hands down to squeeze the front of his pants, smiling as he moaned softly,

"why don't you do it then, hm? what's stopping you?"

you watched as he let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes shut,

"don't do this to me baby, this isn't a funny."

you brought your hands up to hold his face, his eyes fluttering open to look at you,

"who said i'm joking?"

that was enough confirmation for jeno as he leaned in, kissing you harshly. the kiss was messy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting. you'd never seen jeno this desperate, his hand roaming your body, grabbing, scratching, getting a hold of anything he could.

he pulled off your shirt, quick fingers fumbling with you bra,

"jen slow down, baby what's the rush?"

he looked up at you, breathless, his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink,

"can't wait, please, want you baby, need you- fuck- why won't this thing come off."

he pulled at your bra, clips snapping off with his force. you gasped as he picked you up, rushing to get to your shared room. his movements were rough, but he looked at you with love in his eyes, hands soothing any skin he grabbed too hard, lips kissing any mark he left.

he kissed down your body, removing each article of clothing as he went. you stopped his movements as he reached your core, lips hovering over your heat,

"jen please, need you in me, now."

he was quick to comply removing all of his clothes before lining himself up at your entrance, his hands shaky as he slowly slid in,

"fuckkk, baby- fuck, so tight, sucking me in so good."

you moaned as you looked down, watching as his length disappeared inside you, your walls burning at the stretch,

"jen please, please fuck me, need this so bad baby please."

he grunted as he flipped you over, hands gripping your hips as he pulled your ass up. you winced as he gave your ass a light slap, his length pressed right against your core.

"you asked for it baby, now be good and take it."

you back arched as he slid right in, your juices coating his length. his pace was slow but harsh, hips snapping roughly against your ass, his grip on your hips deadly.

"shitt baby, wish you could see yourself, so fucking wet baby, like the idea of my filling you up that much, hm?"

you nodded your head, hair scattered against the bedsheets, hands pulling tightly at the fabric,

"yes jen, fuck- yes, want you to fill me up so good- fuck."

his thrusts picked up in pace a moan leaving his lips as you begged him to fuck you full,

"gonna fill this pussy up baby, get this belly full with my babies, fuck- you like that huh? feel you squeezing around me pretty girl."

your mouth fell open into a silent moan as jeno pounded into you, his tip poking at that sweet spot inside you.

"jeno, jeno, fuck, 'm gonna cum, oh my- jen, please don't stop."

he chuckled at your disheveled state, drool spilling out of your mouth and your hair a mess as he fucked you into the mattress, pussy tightening around him as you came undone.

"just like that baby, shit creaming all over me, so fucking dirty."

he slapped your ass again before pulling your hips towards him harshly, your legs trembling at the feeling,

"fuck yourself on me baby, like you want it, mhm good baby, keep going."

you used your last bit of strength to push your hips back onto his, his hands keeping you steady as you moaned softly at the sensitivity.

"jen please fill me up, want all of it, wanna have your kids, please."

the growl he let out was animalistic as snapped his hips into yours, a yelp leaving your lips at the force. his pace was inhumane, his loud grunts and the sound of your wet heat filling the room.

"you're so perfect baby, shit, i'm gonna cum, holy- fuck baby."

you squeezed around him as his cum coated your walls. a string of curses leaving his lips as his hands left bruises on your hips. his large hand rubbing down your back to soothe your shaking figure.

instead of pulling out jeno kept his hips flush against your ass, leaning down close to your ear.

"gotta make sure none of it goes to waste right? promise i'm gonna make you mommy."

you always wanted to call jeno daddy anyways.

[onismdaydream]

its hard to say no to yuuji when he gets needy. he's never been afraid to be vocal about what he wants, but it cranks up to the max when he's desperate. he'll be pressed up against you, his lips never leaving your skin as he begs you to let him fuck you. please, please, promise i'll be gentle, i'll be so good, please, just let me feel you - his hips stuttering as he bucks them, wanting to relieve any of the pressure that's been building up - anything, i'll do anything, baby, please, need to be inside you.

and when you finally let him, he still can't stop. he groans loudly as he slides inside, mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut, sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. god, baby, feels good, so tight, so fucking good - his thrusts are sloppy, never able to find a steady rhythm - perfect, like you were made for me baby, so good, never wanna pull out, wanna fuck you forever.

most of his words are slurred and mumbled, far too drunk off your body around his throbbing cock to make any coherent thoughts. not like you're faring much better, though, what with yuuji fucking you like it's his last chance, his drippy cockhead rubbing against that sweet spot that makes you clench around him. yeah, fuck yeah baby, do that again, oh god, i'm gonna come, you're gonna make me come - he holds you close to his body, his arms wrapping around you as if he's afraid you'll disappear - please, please, so close, wanna come inside you, can i baby? wanna fill you up, oh god, please.

you're barely able to nod your head before he's spilling inside you, his forehead pressed against you as he catches his breath. fuck, thank you, thank you, don't deserve you, you're perfect - pressing soft and gentle kisses to wherever he can reach, his fingers moving down your body to make sure you get off - love you, love you so much baby, gonna make you feel good too, promise.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

I Can Go Anywhere I Want- Just Not Home | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. I've been BUSY with school and this one took fucking forever. But it means a lot to me, I hope you like it. :)

Word count: 13.3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: do me a favor and pretend Bucky didn't disappear in the blip. ok thanks bye.

Warnings: talk of financial struggles, food insecurity, housing insecurity

A familiar shape stepped onto the sidewalk just ahead, freeing itself from the shadows of a rundown motel. The lines and curves of this body forced your heart into your throat. Time seemed to stop. The world round you ceased its turning. You’d know those broad shoulders anywhere, and you’d remember that sharp jaw even after your soul left this mortal coil. 

You stood there, your feet rooted in the concrete, watching him with a longing that tore through your chest. How long had it been since you last saw him? How many months had passed since you last spoke? You made yourself stop counting the days long ago; it was too depressing, too pathetic. But while you forced your brain not to continue the tally, your heart kept count. 

His sudden motion caught your attention, pulling you from your thoughts. The shape that once resembled home headed down the street, slipping through your fingers a second time. But you couldn’t let him get away- not again. 

Even after you freed your feet and increased your pace, he remained ahead. His long legs carried him away from you as he glided past people on the sidewalk. His hands rested in his pockets, concealing his trademark from the world. His head bowed forward, he kept his gaze down. He didn’t want to catch the eye of the public. But he caught yours. 

“Bucky?” your call came out a desperate plea. Blowing his cover wasn’t your goal, but he was too fast. You had to stop him before he vanished again.

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice. You could’ve sworn you saw his head fall another inch or two, as though he were disappointed to know you’d found him.

But he turned. And for the first time in almost a year, he faced you. 

“Bucky.” It wasn’t a question this time, but an affirmation. A reassurance. An unstoppable smile pulled at your lips, a sigh of relief left your chest. You almost wept. “Hi…” 

The darkness that clouded your mind in his absence parted all at once, making way for a golden glow of twinkling lights. You hadn’t seen him since the battle. Since the shimmering portals. Since everyone returned home after Thanos fell. 

He simply stopped answering your calls. Your texts. He didn’t return your voicemails. 

To this day, you wondered what you did wrong. What you did that pushed him so far away. It wasn’t like him to ice you out, to cut you off without warning. He had baggage, sure, but he never shied away from you. Not like this. At one time, you were his closest friend. His most trusted confidante. And he was yours. You spent every moment together, taking shelter in each other. But not anymore. 

Each night, you recounted the last time you saw him. You analyzed every detail, scrutinizing the minutiae of the interaction. Maybe you said something that offended him. Maybe you did something hurtful. But no matter how hard you wracked your brain, not one single red flag made an appearance. And it made Bucky’s sudden disappearance from your life all the more maddening. More hurtful.

Sometimes, you liked to think that he just used you. That he got what he needed from you and moved on. It somehow softened the blow of his loss. Painting him as a manipulator took the blame off your shoulders and made him the villain. But you could never convince yourself of this narrative for long. Bucky wasn’t the type of person to use others. He gave and gave until he had nothing left. Or until he left.

With a few strides, you closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s so good to see you, Buck,” your instinctive reach for a hug left your arms hanging in the air as he took a small step back. It was then you realized just how embarrassing it was to drop your arms to your sides after an unwanted embrace.

“Hey- hi,” he cleared his throat and cut his eyes to the side, almost like he couldn’t bear to look at you. He stared at the passing cars, the flier-covered streetlight. Anything to keep his gaze from lingering on you. He wasn’t sure he had the strength. 

But he couldn’t help himself- he had to look at you. And as his eyes finally landed on yours, a familiar warmth sliced through his trepidations. He’d been aching for so long now; he’d didn’t know what a life without pain felt like. Every day, he hurt. He suffered. But the biting agony stilled as he stared at you. 

His lungs filled to capacity for the first time in months. The knots in his stomach untangled themselves. He’d forgotten how light he felt around you. You had a way of making things feel so easy, so simple. Everything in his life was complicated, and each day grew more difficult than the last. No matter how hard he tried, he never quite got his head above water. But with you standing there before him, he broke through the surface for the first time in ages.

He drank you in for a long moment, taking inventory of the ways you’d changed, and the ways you’d stayed the same. Your radiant smile still poked dimples into your cheeks. Freckles still splashed across your skin. But he noted the all too familiar braid in which your hair was twisted. The letter ‘N’ dangling from a dainty gold chain around your neck.  

Bucky knew losing Nat wasn’t easy on you. Knew that you’d been mourning her all on your own. He should’ve been there for you, should’ve been your shoulder to cry on. He hated himself every day for making you go it alone.

“It’s um,” Bucky didn’t know where to start. “It’s been a while…”

A quiet, awkward laugh rasped out of your throat at his understatement, “Yeah, you could say that.” 

A long pause forced its way between you. Things with Bucky never used to be this awkward, this tense. He was nearly a stranger now. And it killed you. Your friendship always flowed without difficulty, without pressure. It became second nature. The two of you moved together almost as though choreographed, anticipating the other’s actions instinctually.

But those instincts died and were buried, along with your hope of ever patching things up.

“Um, are you- where are you headed?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“I was just gonna- I thought I’d grab some breakfast.”

“Oh! Me too!” Finally, you had something in common. “Can I-” you quickly rephrased, fearing you may scare him off. “Do you wanna go together? Maybe we could catch up?” You knew you were throwing yourself at him, but you couldn’t stop. You were so overwhelmed, so desperate to be near him; you didn’t care how crazed you seemed. 

Bucky’s shy smile made an appearance, “Yeah, that would be nice.” He kicked himself for not appearing more excited, more overjoyed by the reunion. But he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything other than anxious. 

The walk to the diner was less awkward than you anticipated. The conversation flowed a little smoother, the words came a little easier. But it was still clunky. And though more silence than you would’ve liked hung in the air, you breathed easier knowing that he was merely a few inches away. 

Things between you simply needed to thaw. You needed to shake the rust off and find your way back into the groove you carved out for one another. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I thought you said you were getting breakfast,” you joked, “not just coffee.” You sat across from Bucky in a beat-up booth, it’s cracked, torn vinyl dating the restaurant. When the waitress asked for your order, Bucky insisted you go first. And when you’d finished rattling off your perfect breakfast, Bucky dismissed her with a “nothing for me.”

He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, “I’m not really hungry anymore.”

“Wow, I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on people,” you said, only half-joking. Maybe he really did hate you, after all. The months of dead silence suggested as much. 

More often than not, you tried lived in denial. You told yourself any lie you could come up with- anything to ease the pain of missing him. Even after his less than enthusiastic reaction to your reunion, you buried your head in the sand. Surely, he was just surprised to see you. He just needed some time to warm up, to come out of his shell.

But he only ordered coffee; clearly, he didn’t plan on staying long. He had an escape strategy locked and loaded. You knew he planned to fulfill your request for a catch-up session and run for the hills as soon as he emptied his mug. Upon your realization, everything came crashing down. His scant order slapped you with the cold hard facts: he’d cut off all communication, ignored you for months, and seemed to lose his appetite at the very prospect of sharing a meal with you. 

Maybe missing him was a waste of your time.

“No, it’s not like that,” very real concern coated Bucky’s words. “I’m so- I’m really happy to see you.” 

His fingers twitched as the logical side of his brain shut down his attempt to touch you. All he wanted to do was reach out and rest a hand atop yours, maybe stroke your knuckles a few times. It was something he used to do all the time, something that, at one point, reassured the both of you. But things were different these days. He didn’t have the right to be so familiar with you, not after he chose to make himself a stranger. 

He gripped his coffee mug with both hands, stemming any impulses to reach for you. “How have you been?”

There’d been a time when you would’ve told him everything. You would’ve spilled your soul and let loose every ugly detail of your life. Being honest with each other used to be easy. Neither one of you had to fear judgment or ridicule; you were safe in the other’s hands.

But those days were long gone. He clearly didn’t want to be your best friend anymore- he barely wanted to know you at all. He was, at most, an acquaintance whose soul used to be tied to yours. And so, you opted to forego the truth. You didn’t tell him that you cried yourself to sleep most nights. You didn’t tell him that you missed him so badly it caused you physical pain. You didn’t tell him that you needed him. Instead, you gave him what he wanted: an easy, canned response.

“I’ve been good,” you forced a smile to your face and shrugged. “Just been working, doing the whole SWORD thing.”

He raised his brow, “Oh, wow. You work for SWORD now? I had no idea. Good for you.” 

He feared his feigned surprise came off too fake, too forced. But you didn’t seem to clock it. You really believed that he was out of the loop, but you should’ve known better. It was ludicrous to think he’d ever be uninformed about your life. Of course, he already knew you worked for SWORD He knew that you moved into a new apartment. He even knew that you were planning on adopting a cat soon. He asked Sam about you almost daily, scrounging for any details he could get. 

He just needed to know that you were okay, that you were safe. And happy. 

“Yeah, I started a few months ago. It’s been-” You paused a moment, allowing the waitress to set down your food. The table in front of Bucky looked so empty; with no food anchoring him to the restaurant, he could leave at any moment. “It’s been alright. But how about you? What have you been up to?”

He took a moment to formulate his response. He needed to be careful. Precise. Allowing too much to slip could ruin everything. “I’ve just been working with Sam,” he shrugged. “We had to take care of that whole Flag Smashers thing.”

“I saw that!” you said, your mouth full of pancakes. “You guys did a great job.”

“Thanks, yeah,” Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink. “And I had my pardon hearing.”

You nodded, “I watched all the news coverage about it.”

He forced his eyes down to his mug; he never used to get embarrassed around you. “You did?”

“Of course.”

Bucky wanted you there that day. He wanted to rest his hand in yours and experience the peace only you could provide as he waited for the judge to call his name. And when he finally received his pardon, he wanted to turn around and see you- wide smile, eyes brimming with happy tears. He wanted to wrap his body around yours and thank you for being his rock. 

But he didn’t invite you along.

He, instead, sat alone in the hall, with no one to hold his shaking hand, until a bailiff ushered him into the courtroom. Sam wanted to be there, but his nephew begged Captain America to make an appearance for Bring Your Dad to Work Day. And who was he to say no?

When the judge awarded Bucky his pardon, no one cheered. No one ran to his side and granted him a congratulatory hug. He collected his papers and made his way out of the courthouse. Alone. 

He got a heap of texts and calls from you that day, though. He watched his phone ring with your name and picture taking up his screen. He poured over your kind texts and listened to your congratulatory voicemails. Even after he shut you out, you made sure he knew that you supported him. That you still cared. But he didn’t return your messages.

He did, however, listen to your voicemails on a loop. Hearing your voice again gave him an escape, a life preserver. You’d never know how much those messages meant, how often they saved him. He promised himself he’d tell you- one day.

 “Honestly, you shouldn’t have even needed a pardon,” you said with an eyeroll. “I mean, you didn’t do anything. None of it was your fault.”

Bucky had nearly forgotten how unabashedly supportive you were. How you were always on his side, no matter what. He wondered why you still wanted to be on his team after months of silence.

“Well, the US government feels differently,” he sighed out a soft laugh. “And it’s taken care of now, so it’s all good.”

He appeared hopeful, almost optimistic. He had Sam, he had his pardon- he seemed to be doing well. And though you wanted more than anything to be in his life, you just wanted him to be happy. Maybe your friendship didn’t serve him the way it served you. Maybe he felt like you didn’t give him what he needed. Maybe his life was better without you in it. The thought stung. It forced your throat closed, nearly sending you into a choking fit. But you swallowed your pancakes along with your pride, and vowed never to beg Bucky to come back to you. 

“Good. I’m happy for you.” You stopped yourself from reaching for his hand. “Can I ask something that might be a little invasive?”

Bucky’s heart stopped, “Um, sure.”

“I saw you coming out of that motel…” you shot him a suggestive glance. “What was that about?”

Bucky stiffened. He grew tense, anxiety flooding his system. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… was there maybe a little-” you raised a brow at him, “hook up situation going on?” 

He laughed at your overdramatic wink, the way you licked your lips. And he thanked his lucky stars you came up with a cover story for him. “Oh, yeah…” he grew bashful about his fictional sexcapades. “It’s just a- it’s casual, you know. Nothing serious.”

The confirmation of your suspicions made your jaw drop. Bucky Barnes, the old-fashioned gentleman, actually had a friend with benefits. He’d had a secretive, motel rendezvous. Hell, he probably had hickeys and nail marks hiding under his shirt. 

A pang of jealousy tore through you like the nails of his lover. Why did she get to be near him? How did she rank above you? The unsettling feeling of envy almost possessed you, but you pushed it aside.

“Woah, look at you,” you feigned appluase. “I always knew you were a ladies’ man, I just never got to see it in real time.”

He rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I’m a real heartbreaker.” He regretted his word choice immediately, knowing full well he broke your heart.

You sidestepped his comment and forced the conversation forward, his comment stinging your open wound. “Seriously, Buck. I’m happy for you.” Once again, you stifled the urge to touch him. “You deserve to have some fun.”

He stared at you for a long moment, a genuine smile on his face. You were so sincere in your support of him, so unashamed of how deeply you cared. Sam was an incredible friend, of course- but you were his soulmate. He was tied to you with an unbreakable thread, unable to free himself even if he wanted to. And he wanted to. But not because he didn’t adore you; it was a simple matter of worthiness. 

But no matter how hard he tried, he still thought of you daily. Almost constantly. He missed you, pined over you, wished he could exist in your world. But he couldn’t- not yet. 

He shook the grin from his face and pulled his gaze down to his mug once again. “I’m um- I’m sorry I haven’t been around. Things have just gotten…” He cleared his throat, “I’ve been really busy.”

A scream scratched at your throat, but you forced it away with a bite of eggs and a swig of coffee. Of course, Bucky was busy. But he wasn’t the only one. It seemed that SWORD wanted to run you ragged. They were always assigning you extra operations and looking to you to solve problems. But even with the mountains of work, even in your sea of grief for Nat, you still managed to reach out to Bucky. You still called, still texted. 

But he clearly didn’t want to make the time for you.

“I totally understand,” you lied. “Shit has been crazy. Don’t worry about it.”

You worried about it every day.

Breakfast wrapped up all too soon. Bucky argued when you paid for his coffee, you hushed him with a promise to let him cover yours next time. And in the blink if an eye, you found yourself standing next to him on the sidewalk, praying he wouldn’t walk away.  

“I should really get going,” he said, taking a step away from you. “I have a meeting.”

“Cool, yeah,” you forced a smile, “this was great- I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, me too.”

It seemed to you that Bucky couldn’t care less if he ever saw you again. He was disengaged, disinterested, inching ever farther away. He tried to be subtle about it, tried to slowly escape the interaction. But you caught his tiny steps in the opposite direction. His body remained closed off, the space between you growing with each long, awkward pause. 

But even so, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t let him walk away without knowing if this was the last time you’d see him. 

“We should do this again-” you sounded so needy, so anxious, but couldn’t find it in you to care, “but only if you want.” Never had you felt so pathetic. There you were, practically begging Bucky to signal that he gave a shit about you. 

But all he could muster was a nod. 

“Awesome,” you pulled out your phone. “Do you still have the same number?”

Again, he nodded. 

It killed you. All this time, you’d hoped that he got a new number and simply forgot to tell you. That your texts and calls went unanswered because he didn’t receive them. But he did, indeed, receive them. He just chose to ignore them.

With a swell of tears gathering behind your eyes, you sped through your goodbyes. You threw Bucky a hurried “great to see you, I’ll call soon” and quick smile before turning away and heading for a hiding spot, a concealed place to cry. The person you cared about more than anything, the person you adored, the person for whom you’d lay down your life, didn’t want you anymore. The bitter taste of rejection coated the inside of your mouth. And as you ducked into a bodega down the street, you feared you might get a second look at your breakfast.

You were gone too soon. Bucky wanted to call your name, to run after you. Even after months apart, he could still sus out when you were upset. He remembered your tells. Your dead giveaways. The way your jaw hardened against oncoming emotion. The tendency of your voice to grow thin and hollow as tears loomed on the horizon. 

He knew he hurt you. 

But he found himself stuck, his body defying the orders of his brain. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He could only stand there, helpless, watching as you disappeared. 

He knew you couldn’t possibly be happy with him after he abandoned you; he was surprised that you even acknowledged him on the street- let alone invited him to breakfast. And after the way he acted at the diner, he was shocked that you asked to see him again. 

The conversation you had replayed on a loop inside his head, and he kicked himself for being so closed off. So cold. He’d sullied your reunion so severely- it was almost aggressive. He was dismissive. Curt. And he lied to your face- multiple times. 

He was so happy to see you- he didn’t want you to think otherwise. But he didn’t expect to run into you like that. He didn’t expect to be near you for another few months, at least. He had a plan, and he was doing his best to follow it with as few setbacks as possible. If he kept his head down and pushed himself, he could get to the point where he could explain. He could tell you the truth and make you part of his life again if you even wanted anything to do with him. Though he wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.

But running into you outside the motel wasn’t part of the blueprint. And he panicked.

He'd held you at arm’s length, never daring to get too close. He kept everything superficial. Surface level. It was the shallowest interaction he’d had with you to date. And it felt wrong. It didn’t fit who you were as people, who you were as friends. Your bond was never the skin deep, small talk type. No, you delved into one another’s deepest thoughts. Bared your souls. He’d never kept a secret from you- nor you him. But that was a different time.

Disappointed, Bucky unrooted his boots from the concrete and trudged off in the direction of his morning meeting. And while he did his best to focus, to participate, he could think of only you. The heartbreak in your eyes. The hurt in your voice. A wave of nausea barreled into him as he replayed the interaction again and again. You deserved better. And Bucky wished more than anything he that could be better. For you. 

But two nights later, your phone rang.

It was late- nearly midnight. You were curled up on the couch under a blanket, neck deep in your Vampire Diaries rewatch when your phone started to buzz. An unfamiliar number popped up on your screen, accompanied only by Siri’s suggestion of who might be calling.

‘Maybe: Kings County Jail’

You stared at it for three rings, wondering how someone from the jail got your number. And just as you were about to deny the call, something in your gut told you to answer it. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was divine intervention. Either way, you hit accept and held the phone up to your ear. 

“Um, hello?”

An automated message responded, “You are being contacted by a detainee at Kings County Jail. The detainee-” the recording paused, leaving space for someone to state their name.  Your favorite gruff voice followed, “Bucky-”

“-is trying to contact you. Do you accept the charges?”

A riptide coursed through your brain. Questions upon questions piled up, each one trying to escape your lips first. But you swallowed them for the time being. 

“Yeah- yes, I accept.”

The line connected, and Bucky’s soft “hey…” came through from the other end. “Thanks for picking up.”

“Buck? Is everything okay?”

He sighed, “Yeah, I’m- I’ve been better. But I’m fine. I was just wondering if,” he couldn’t believe he was doing this. “I was wondering if you could come bail me out?”

He gave no context, no reasoning, for his stint in the county jail. But you didn’t care. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Even after he ditched you and left radio silence in his wake, even after he practically ran from your reunion at the diner- you’d do anything for him. And there was no way in hell you’d ever just leave him there; you couldn’t. Bucky didn’t belong behind bars.

And so, you pulled yourself off the couch, found some shoes, and headed in his direction. 

The bail money didn’t matter to you. Sure, things were easier now that SWORD paid you the big bucks. But even if your account was running on empty, you’d sacrifice your last remaining cents to free Bucky. 

A guard led him down the hall by the arm and shoved him through the door. This wasn’t how he wanted you to see him. None of this fit into the plan he’d so carefully crafted all those months ago. But there you sat in the lobby of the police station, clad in your sweats, waiting for him. The shame nearly tore him apart from the inside out. 

But as he locked eyes with you across the room, he didn’t find the judgement or irritation that he expected. You should’ve been angry with him- why weren’t you angry with him? He’d called in a favor after abandoning you. He made you come down to the police station, made you pay his bail. You should’ve left him to rot in a jail cell. But you didn’t. Because you cared. Even after everything he did, you still cared about him. He wished you didn’t. He wished you’d scream at him in front of everyone- but you were too good for that. Too kind. 

He threw you a bashful wave, but averted his gaze when a warm smile crossed your face. He couldn’t quite stand the way your gracious expression made him feel. Why did you seem so happy to see him? Why weren’t you furious- or even a little frustrated? 

As he waited in line to gather his backpack and personal belongings from the desk, he hoped for something to prolong his time away from you. A clerical error. A massive stack of paperwork. What was he supposed to say to you? How was he supposed to explain this whole mess? He needed time to put his thoughts in order. To organize his lies. 

But, for the first time in history, a United States government agency did things efficiently and without error. And after only a few minutes, he made his way to your side. 

“Hey,” he granted you only a flash of eye contact before dragging his gaze to the floor. “Thanks for- thank you for coming to get me. And for paying my bail…”

You shrugged, “yeah, absolutely”.

“I’ll pay you back, I swear.” It was then he realized that he didn’t want you to be angry with him. Sure, you cursing him out in front of everyone would be easier. Less complicated. But he’d rather die than upset you again. 

“I know. I’m not worried about it,” you granted him another kind smile, “I trust you.”

It was a dagger to the heart. How- and why- did you still trust him? He’d excised you from his life without warning and left you in the cold; he wasn’t worthy of your trust. 

“Are you all good here?” you asked, “Should we get going?”

“Sure- yeah.”

The walk to the car was quiet; Bucky couldn’t bring himself to walk next to you. Existing in your sphere, being seen by you- it was too much for him. Too shameful. Even if he was only in your peripheral. And so, he opted to position himself a few paces behind you. In the safety of your shadow. 

He got settled in the passenger seat of your car as you turned the key in the ignition. But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull out of your parking spot. Everything in you wanted to ask how he ended up in handcuffs. He wasn’t a troublemaker. He wasn’t violent. He wasn’t the type to make waves. Something bad must’ve happened- something out of his control.

But you knew it wasn’t your business. He clearly didn’t want you around anymore, didn’t want to clue you in on the details of his life. And you never liked to pry. 

As the seconds passed, however, your resolve crumbled. No matter what happened between the two of you, you’d always care about Bucky. You’d always worry about him. And your concern finally got the best of you.

Before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling out of your mouth. “Are you okay?” you stared at him, anxiety brewing in your chest. “You don’t have to tell me what happened- I won’t force you- but I’m worried about you.”

He nodded, “I’m fine.” It wasn’t rude, but his tone didn’t invite further probing. 

With a sigh and an unconvinced “okay”, you put the car in drive and prepared to take Bucky home.

Your blinker clicked incessantly as you waited for a few cars to grant you a clear path. Bucky had ample time to give you directions, but he remained quiet. He didn’t offer up information of any kind, not even a neighborhood. It broke your heart that you didn’t know his address.

“Um, where do you live? Should I turn left or right?” 

You waited patiently for an answer that Bucky didn’t seem to have.

“Actually, do you mind if-” he flashed you an apologetic smile, “could we just drive around for a while?”

Maybe he had some residual adrenaline from being arrested. Maybe being in jail gave him flashbacks to his captivity under Hydra. Either way, you knew he wouldn’t have asked to go for a drive unless he really needed it. Part of you was surprised, though, that he’d willingly spend more time with you. That he’d choose to share a confined space with you. He was all too happy with removing you from his life, and practically sprinted through your reunion breakfast. But after so many months of missing him, you’d take whatever extra time you could get.

The drive was quiet, though it did seem to help Bucky relax some. His leg stopped bouncing; his shoulders loosened up. Being around you had that effect on him; it wasn’t something he could help. But as he mellowed out, the questions swirling around your brain only multiplied.

At a red light, you tested the waters. “Can I ask you something?”

Bucky nodded. 

“What happened tonight? How did you end up in jail?”

A litany of emotions ran across Bucky’s face. Frustration, worry, shame, and sadness tied his expression in a knot. Part of him wanted to lie. He could say it was a bar fight. He could make up an elaborate story and placate you for the rest of the ride. But you bailed him out. You answered his call and showed up for him when he needed you. You sat, clad in your pajamas, in the waiting area of a dirty police station. For him. He owed you the truth.

“I was arrested for sleeping in the park,” he said, his tone flat.

It wasn’t at all what you expected to hear. No answer formed on your lips. You couldn’t pull your eyes from his face. The words sunk in, burrowing their way through your flesh and plunging into your heart. 

“Um, it’s- the light is green,” he said, snapping you out of your trance.

You hit the gas and accelerated on autopilot. And as soon as you made it through the intersection, you pulled over. Bucky’s confession knocked the wind out of you and robbed you of your focus. And if he had more to say, you wanted to give him your undivided attention.

“Why are we stopping-”

“Buck, why were you sleeping in the park?”

Bucky let loose a deep sigh that seemed to come right from his soul. “Because I don’t have anywhere else to sleep,” he shrugged. “I ran out of money.” He was silent for a moment, wondering just how honest he should be. “I’m supposed to be getting some POW benefits from the government, but you know, bureaucracy is slow.”

“Oh, Buck…” After everything he suffered through under Hydra, after the way the US treated him upon his arrival home, the least his country could do was pay him back. Or provide him with a safe place to sleep. But, once again, they failed him.

“You know that motel you saw me at the other day? I wasn’t there for a hook up; I’ve been staying there-” He corrected himself, “Well, I’ve actually been staying at a few different motels. None of them are extended stay, so I can’t be there more than a few nights.” 

He noticed the way your eyes grew sad, the way your mouth fell open the slightest bit. Heartbreak was written all over your face. “Sorry to disappoint you, I know you hoped I was getting some strange with someone from Tinder,” he shot you a wink and flashed a smile your way. But you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

Bucky, of all people, deserved a comfortable home. Someplace warm. Permanent. Someplace he could call his own. Someplace he could feel safe. But, instead, life gave him the short end of the stick. Again. 

“Anyway, no matter how cheap those motels are, paying for them every night adds up, you know? So, now I’m broke,” a rush of heat flooded his cheeks. Admitting to his situation was so embarrassing, so shameful, he thought he might drown in it. He was a grown- overgrown- adult who didn’t even have a roof over his head. “I got a warning from the cops last night -and the night before- for sleeping in the park. But tonight was my third strike, so…” He shrugged, “they arrested me.”

“Jesus Christ, cause not having a place to live is criminal?” you scoffed, “This country is ridiculous.”

“Trust me, it’s not for lack of trying,” Bucky quickly added on. He didn’t want you to think he wasn’t working on it, that he was slacking, that we was complacent in his situation. “I tried for a long time to get an apartment, but I either didn’t have enough money for the deposit or I’d get turned away when they realized who I was. Though it’s not like I could ever make rent…” 

When he learned how much an apartment in Brooklyn cost these days, a suffocating sense of hopelessness swallowed him whole. He knew he’d never be able to afford the one place he ever really saw as home.

“And I tried a few shelters, but they wouldn’t take me, either.” He didn’t know a shelter could turn people away; experiencing it first-hand broke him. “So um, the motels were my only option.”

Sobs blocked your airway and burned the inside of your nose. Tears pooled along your inner lash line; you prayed to god Bucky wouldn’t see them. You could sense his shame, his embarrassment; the last thing he needed was you crying over his circumstances. 

“What um,” you fought to keep your voice steady. “What about Sam?”

Bucky shrugged. “Sam’s been helping me with all the stuff for my benefits and getting my record expunged- he’s been a godsend. And he’s offered to let me stay with him more times than I can count. He’s offered me money- he even snuck some cash into my jacket pocket the other day,” Bucky gave a soft laugh. “But I can’t take any more from him; he’s already done too much for me.”

“I get that…” You knew Sam would happily let Bucky crash. But Bucky wasn’t the type to impose. “Sam’s a good friend.”

“He’s the best. I’m gonna pay him- and you- back, either when my benefits come through or whenever I can get a job. Whichever comes first.” It was a promise, a verbal contract. He didn’t want you thinking he wasn’t good for it- even if he wasn’t good for it quite yet. He knew he would be someday. And as soon as he had the money, you and Sam would be his first priority. 

“I keep applying for jobs on the off chance that someone will cut me some slack, but until my record gets expunged, I’m fucked. Every place I’ve applied to has done a background check, and every time, my name is surrounded by red flags.” He let out a sigh, “I’m still a criminal.”

Your heart buckled. He wasn’t a criminal- he never should’ve been burdened with such a title. He didn’t do anything wrong, he didn’t choose to be the Winter Soldier. But people didn’t care about the truth.

“What about SWORD?”

He shook his head, “They don’t want me. Hiring an ex-Hydra assassin doesn’t really work for their image. They’re trying to steer clear of the whole SHIELD thing…”

The two of you sat in silence for a long moment. Bucky hadn’t originally planned on laying everything so bare, he just couldn’t help himself. Opening up to you came naturally. But in the quiet, he felt naked. Exposed. He regretted spilling the details of his pathetic existence for you to see. 

But you’d never judge him. You simply wanted better for him. And wished he’d come to you when times got tough. 

The shards of your broken heart sliced through you with every breath. Imagining Bucky in rundown, roach infested motels or sleeping on an uncomfortable park bench on a cold night made you want to vomit. Waves of utter devastation crashed into you one after another, barely giving you enough time to breathe. But you couldn’t allow yourself to fall apart. Not when Bucky needed you.

When you finally steadied your breathing, you spoke. “Buck, can I ask- and I don’t mean this in an accusatory way,” you prefaced, “but why didn’t you come to me?”

“Because I care what you think about me,” he said, almost automatically. “Your opinion of me is important.”

“Well, my opinion of you hasn’t changed now that I know what’s been going on…”

A smile fought its way to Bucky’s lips. Logically, he knew you didn’t think less of him now that you knew the truth. He knew you were too kind to look down on him. But his anxiety didn’t think logically. The smile lasted only a second, as his worries about your perception got the better of him. 

“My life is a disaster,” he said. “I have almost nothing to my name. I don’t have any money. I don’t have a place to live. It’s humiliating.” He ran his palms up and down the length of his thighs, fighting the nervous energy. “I wouldn’t have even called you to bail me out if Sam was in town; I didn’t want you to know about all this.” 

Without a word, you pulled back onto the road. 

Bucky eyed the surrounding street, “Um, where are we going?” 

“My place,” you kept your eyes on the road. “I’m taking you to my apartment.”

Panic bloomed in Bucky’s chest. “Oh, no, it’s- that’s okay. I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.” A swell of anxiety barreled into him at the thought of you taking him home like a dirty, stray dog. He didn’t want to be a charity case or your good deed of the day. And as much as he would’ve loved to spend time in your home, he wished to do so under different circumstances. Circumstances that didn’t involve pity.

“You can really just drop me off anywhere-”

His words tore through you. “Buck, it’s late,” you cut a glance at him. “And it’s cold out. I’m not just leaving you on the side of the road somewhere. I-” you cleared your throat, “I care about you” 

Part of him wanted to open the door and jump from the moving car. Surely, it would be less humiliating. But the look on your face kept him from pulling the rip cord. Concern pulled your brows together. Worry made you bite at your lip. You genuinely cared about him, genuinely wanted to help. And though he could actually feel embarrassment seeping from his pores, he chose to stay. Because you caring about him trumped any and every other feeling.

“Okay, so, this is my place,” you said as you led Bucky though the front door of your apartment. You flicked on a few lights and kicked off your shoes, “make yourself at home.”

Bucky didn’t know how to do that anymore.

He stood stone still just inside the door, too overwhelmed and unsure to move. 

“Um, so, obviously, this is the kitchen- and that’s the living room,” you said, pointing to an area with a massive suede couch. “My bedroom and the guest room are down that hall, laundry is to the left, and guest bathroom is to the right, next to the office.” 

Bucky was impressed. The apartment was beautiful. You’d decorated to match your warm personality; it made him instantly comfortable. And it was nice- fancier than anything he could ever dream of affording. He was so proud of you. He knew you’d worked hard to get here, and seeing the fruits of your labor brought a smile to his face. He only wished he could’ve been a part of your journey. 

“This is really nice,” he said, taking a few more steps inside. “Is it all yours? Or do you have a roommate?”

“Nope, no roommate. Just me.”

Bucky’s brows lifted as he drank in the space. You paid for this place all on your own, no help from a roommate. He wondered what it felt like to be that stable, that secure. He never knew where he was sleeping from one night to the next, and you practically lived in a penthouse. 

“Um, we can sit, if you like,” you gestured toward the fancy couch, “it’s more comfortable than it looks, I promise.”

But Bucky didn’t go for it. “Actually, would you mind if I took a shower? I’m just- I feel pretty grimy from the motels. And the park. And the jail,” he felt his cheeks flush at the admission. He really was the filthy mutt you brought home from the pound. “I just don’t wanna sit on your couch when I’m gross like this.”

“Oh, sure. That’s- I totally get it. I should probably change my clothes, too.” 

With a wave of your hand, you gestured for Bucky to follow you to the bathroom. As you guided him through your apartment, he admired the art on your walls and the expensive rugs covering your floors. 

With a clearing of your throat, you gestured to the guest bathroom. “Everything you need should be in there but let me know if I can get you anything else. Can I throw your clothes in the laundry? I’ll wash whatever’s in your bag, too.”

Bucky gave you a strange look, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think you want me walking around here in a towel.”

You didn’t necessarily shy away from the idea, but this wasn’t the time for a suggestive response. “Okay, but- what are you gonna put on after you shower?”

Bucky shrugged, “I don’t know. Whatever I have in my backpack.”

You eyed the bag slung over his shoulder and imagined the heap of clothes he’d balled up and shoved inside. “Are they clean?”

Bucky thought for a moment, “Define ‘clean’.”

“Buck,” you laughed,  “just let me put your stuff in the wash.” You gave his backpack a gentle swat and motioned for him to relinquish it to you.

“So, you do want me walking around in a towel,” Bucky quirked a brow at you. “I knew it.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, “just come with me.” 

Bucky did as he was told and followed you into your bedroom. It cloaked him in an instant warmth, a sense of home he hadn’t experienced in eighty years. The whole room seemed to glow with a cozy, welcoming aura. He wondered what it was like to fall asleep here every night, to wake here each morning. Well-loved books populated a large bookcase in the corner, an armchair sat near the window. Bucky could practically see you curled up on its large cushion, your nose buried in Pride and Prejudice. But a photo on the wall near your bed caught his eye. 

“Is that me?” He took a few steps inside your door and found his suspicion to be correct. 

It was a slightly out of focus candid shot of you and Bucky laying on the floor of the war room at the compound. Nat snapped it as the team talked through different strategies to bring everyone back from the blip. In the photo, you sported a massive smile, and had your face smushed against Bucky’s arm to stifle your laughter. Bucky’s eyes were squeezed shut, his metal hand covering his mouth. You were both exhausted, and loopy, enjoying a moment of levity amidst a sea of tragedy.

“That’s my favorite picture,” something about your words came off sad. And Bucky knew it was because of him. The joy, the closeness exhibited in the photo didn’t exist anymore. He’d stripped your friendship of everything warm and left you out in the cold. Alone. 

You made your way over to the dresser and fished around in the bottom drawer, “let’s find you something to wear.”

“Um, I don’t…” Bucky chuckled, “I’m not gonna fit into any of your clothes.”

You cut glance at him, “I know that. That’s why I’m giving you…” With a grand gesture, you unearthed a pair of sweatpants, “your clothes.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open. He stared at the pair of charcoal gray sweats he lent to you ages ago, the pair you loved, the pair he told you to keep. He didn’t say anything when you plopped them in his hands; he was too stunned to speak.

“And here’s this,” you said as you draped a faded blue ‘NYC’ t-shirt over his shoulder. He’d loaned you that shirt so many times back at the compound, you wore it more than he did. Eventually, he started putting it in your closet instead of his on laundry day.

“Now, give me your bag and I’ll throw your stuff in the wash.”

Bucky finally dragged his eyes from the pair of pants and furrowed his brow at you. “Why do you still have this stuff?”

Something in you grew nervous. Was he mad? Or did he think you were a creep for holding onto his things? Maybe it was too weird of a gesture. Maybe you should’ve let him hang around in a towel after all.

“Cause I like wearing it,” you said with trepidation in your voice. “Your clothes were always more comfortable than mine. And I-” you cut yourself off. Saying ‘I miss you’ was too much. Instead, you rerouted, “I like to wear oversized stuff.”

Bucky nodded and gave a quiet “right” before thanking you and heading for the bathroom. At your request, he left his bag in the hall. You scooped it up and dumped his clothes into the washer before doubling back to the bathroom, where Bucky had dropped his dirty jail-clothes outside the door. You changed out of your dirty clothes from the police station and threw them in the laundry with Bucky’s. It was the closest you’d been in months.

Bucky nearly teared up as the water sliced through the layer of grime coating his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a shower this hot. The motels always seemed to have faulty water heaters that only allowed for subzero temperatures. And at some of them, the water didn’t quite run clear. Sometimes, there was a brown tint. Other times, it was gray. And showers like those left only him feeling dirtier. 

But he didn’t want to think about the rust-eaten pipes of the decrepit motels in which he stayed. Instead, he basked in the nearly scalding water, the tiles that didn’t have moldy grout. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like a husk of himself, but a real person. All his time shuffling between park benches and rat-infested motels had stripped him of his personhood. And something as simple as a shower restored it. Though, deep down, he knew it wasn’t the incredible water pressure or the lavender body wash that had him feeling human again. It was you.

With the entirety of Bucky’s wardrobe in the washing machine, you paced lap after lap around the kitchen. Only a few days ago, you feared you’d never see Bucky again. And now, he was in your shower. After your chilly reunion at the diner, you couldn’t help but be mad at him, no matter how much you’d missed him. He was cool and aloof. He didn’t open up. And he didn’t seem at all interested in repairing your friendship.

But listening to him in the car laid almost every piece of the puzzle out before you. And though there were still gaps and empty spots, you nearly had the picture complete. Bucky didn’t ice you out because he hated you or didn’t want you anymore. He was simply too embarrassed to admit what he was going through. 

A sharp twinge of guilt needled at you. You shouldn’t have been mad at him after what happened at the diner. You shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions or assumed the worst. Bucky deserved better. You should’ve known in your heart that he was only pushing you away to protect himself. It was his nature; it always had been. You’d just been too hurt to see it.

“Your shower is unbelievable,” Bucky said as he padded into the kitchen, his hair still damp. “And those towels? They’re amaz-” A stack of Tupperware on the island caught his attention. “What’s all this?”

“Leftovers. I cooked dinner earlier tonight…” You shrugged, “I thought you might be hungry.”

He shifted his wide-eyed gaze from the food, forcing his eyes to land anywhere else. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m fine.”

You quirked a brow at him, “You’re not hungry?”

“No.” It was quiet but firm. 

“Really? Cause the Bucky I knew needed to eat like, six thousand calories a day.” Bucky’s insatiable hunger was a running joke between the two of you back then. He always finished your food when you couldn’t clear your plate, and snacked on anything he could get his hands on. On one occasion, he even fell asleep in your bed with his hand in bag of honey mustard pretzels. Hearing him refuse food was strange, almost alarming. “You always called yourself ‘Earth’s hungriest hero’”.

Bucky gave a small laugh, “yeah, damn super soldier serum will do that to your metabolism.”

You stared at him, “So…” 

“So?”

“So, do you want something to eat?” 

“No, really,” he shook his head, “I’m fine.” 

But you noticed the way his stare always returned to the stack of containers. Even after he’d pulled his focus from the food, his eyes found their way back. You sensed a longing in him, a deep desperation that left you gutted. Any jovial, lighthearted quality your words held fell to the wayside, making way for concern. 

“Buck, when’s the last time you ate?”

Bucky did his best to think back to his last meal but couldn’t find an answer. Part of him wanted to lie, to appease you with details of a made-up dinner from earlier that night. But he didn’t get the chance; his pause was too long for your liking. 

“Okay, if it’s taking you that long to remember, you need to eat.” It wasn’t an offer or a request, but an order. “Help yourself.”

But once again, he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to impose-”

“It’s not an imposition,” your words came out with an unexpected fierceness; it almost sounded like a scold. The idea, the mere suggestion that Bucky could impose on you was ridiculous. You took a breath and softened your tone, “I live alone, and every recipe is for more than one person. There’s plenty.”

Before Bucky could refuse again, you opened the Tupperware and allowed him a look at the fruits of your labor. “There’s roasted chicken with rosemary and thyme, garlic mashed potatoes, and maple-glazed brussels sprouts.” Bucky’s eyes lit up. You could practically see drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. 

A sense of satisfaction enveloped you, like you’d finally banished Bucky’s unnecessary fear of imposition. But just in case he wasn’t sure, just in case you hadn’t won him over, you threw one last piece of information his way. “Oh, and there’s chocolate chip cookies over there.”

Bucky was almost overwhelmed. He took in the beautiful spread and gave the cookies a long glance; it was almost too much. “Woah, you weren’t kidding…” He gave a small laugh, “this is a lot of food.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know how to cook for one.”

With that, you handed Bucky a plate and let him go to town. He filled his dish with chicken, mashed potatoes, and brussels sprouts. But the look on his face signaled more relief than joy, more solace than happiness. You wondered how long he’d been without food, how long he’d worried about where his next meal would come from. As he stood over those plastic containers, that anxiety vanished- for the most part.

A debate raged inside of Bucky’s head. He was famished, literally starving. And you’d given him full access to a massive meal. But he didn’t want to overdo it. He knew he shouldn’t empty your Tupperware and leave you with nothing; he just he didn’t know when he’d eat again. And he could practically feel his body digesting itself. 

Before he could tighten the reigns, though, you spoke up. “Seriously, Buck, don’t be shy. I can’t finish all of this- it’ll just go bad.”

He nearly broke down. For so long, he knew only wanting, only appetite, only emptiness. And you offered him a respite. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in…” Once again, his pause was too long; it crushed you. “Anyway, I really appreciate this.” He pulled his gaze from the food and gave you a long look filled with admiration. “And I’m impressed- I didn’t know you were such a culinary talent. I distinctly remember you burning ramen noodles to a blackened crisp more than once.”

The laugh that erupted from your chest filled the kitchen, “Well, I distinctly remember you eating my disgusting ramen without hesitation.”

Back when things were good between you and Bucky, you’d always volunteer to make dinner. Between strategy sessions and long, complicated meetings, the team simply forgot to eat. But you knew they needed nourishment to make defeating Thanos a realistic option. No one, however, wanted your charred ramen. Except for Bucky. He always accepted your offerings with a kind smile and a mountain of appreciation. He was grateful, no matter how awful it tasted, because it came from you.

“My therapist actually suggested I get into cooking,” you told Bucky as he popped his plate in the microwave. “I was really depressed and stopped caring about eating or taking care of myself. It felt pointless. But she told me some people find comfort in cooking. It’s almost meditative, you know? And if you focus on the recipe, you can’t think about all the um, the painful stuff.” 

Bucky knew he was ‘the painful stuff’.

“There was a bit of a learning curve, but now,” you shrugged, “I love it.”

“Oh, wow, that awesome. So you get some peace and a delicious meal? Sounds like a good deal.” He mulled it over, wishing he had a kitchen into which he could retreat. But the motels only ever had a microwave, and most of the time, it didn’t work.

“I had a therapist- well, a court appointed therapist,” he said, “she was the worst.”

You sighed. Why were things always so hard for him? Why did people treat him so terribly? 

“What was so terrible about her?”

“Honestly, I think she hated me,” defeat coated his words. “She was mean- I know that sounds childish, but I mean, the things she said were biting. They hurt. And she did it on purpose. I left every session feeling worse.” He thought back on his sessions with Dr. Raynor, on how she broke him down piece by piece until he was only a pile of ash. “She said I wasn’t a victim, and that I needed to take responsibly for the things I did and the choices I made.”

Anger surged inside your chest, “The choices you made?”

He nodded. “She was actually so terrible that I thought she worked for Hydra. I thought they were trying to get me back and that she was working undercover with them to manipulate me.” A small laugh broke free from his chest, “But she wasn’t. She’s just an asshole.”

“Jesus Christ, Buck…” You couldn’t imagine anyone being so awful, so hateful, toward Bucky. He was kind and warm. He showed people compassion and understanding. Why the world didn’t show him the same baffled you. “I hope you don’t see her anymore.”

He removed his plate from the microwave, “Oh, I don’t.” 

You sighed with relief, but it was a short-lived respite.

“I couldn’t afford to.”

He dove into his food before you could even usher him to the table. Between huge bites of potatoes and chicken, he praised your cooking. He swore on his life that this was some of the best food he’d ever had. It warmed your heart for a brief moment, but reality put a stop to the fuzzy feeling. Sure, you were a good cook. But you were certain than Bucky’s gushing compliments were the product of his empty stomach. He couldn’t even determine how long it had been since his last meal; of course, he was going to inhale his food with gusto and deem it ‘the best’.

It gnawed at you to see him like this. He laughed as you guided him to the table and settled into the seat across from him, but you didn’t match his lighthearted energy. He’d been struggling, suffering in silence without knowing where he’d get his next meal. For decades, Bucky knew nothing but pain. He was tortured, abused, treated like an animal. Hydra infected him like a parasite and devoured him from the inside out. They saddled him with PTSD and enough demons to fill even the deepest pits of hell. And after all that, life refused to give him a break. It killed you.

“I thought- correct me if I’m wrong, but- I thought court appointed therapy was paid for...” 

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t,” Bucky said with a mouth full of brussels sprouts. “It depends on the situation”. He threw a shrug your way and speared a piece of chicken with his fork, but a thought stopped him from shoveling it into his mouth. “Even if my appointments were supposed to be covered, I don’t think anyone wanted to give me anything for free.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Only the sound of Bucky’s fork scraping his plate interrupted the blanket of quiet. But the stillness made him squirm. Suddenly, he piped up.

“So, I did the required amount of sessions with that therapist and promised myself I’d never go back. It was tough, but I made it work. I scraped by.” His gaze took on a hollow quality, “That’s when I started staying in the really shitty places. The ones with asbestos and mold. And there was this one place where the sheets were stained with what looked like blood.” He grimaced, “I haven’t been back there.”

You forced a laugh, “Good call.”

Bucky shifted his focus back to his plate; he’d sprinted through his meal, leaving only a few bites remaining. The flicker of a frown ghosted across his face. The food was gone too soon, replaced by an empty plate. He was tired of everything in his life being empty- his bank account, his stomach, his heart. But he didn’t dare let himself wallow in self-pity with you sitting mere inches away. Instead, he overcorrected with a large smile, hoping you hadn’t noticed the look of disappointment he wore just moments earlier. He’d rather die than appear ungrateful, even if his hunger pangs had already returned.

“You can help yourself to seconds, there’s more than enough,” you took a look at the containers still sitting on the counter. Even after he’d piled his plate high, not a dent was made. “You can have thirds, fourths- I don’t care.”

Bucky shook his head as he cleaned his plate, “No, that’s alright. I’m good. Thank you, though.”

It was an egregious lie; maybe the worst you’d ever heard. 

“Buck, I can practically hear your stomach rumbling from here.” You knew him. Even after all this time apart, you knew him. You knew he was still hungry, especially after having gone so long without eating. His metabolism burned through fuel at a massively accelerated pace; he needed the calories. “Please, have some more.”

Once again, he shook his head. “I’m okay, really,” he gave you a smile. “Plus, I don’t want you to think I’m a freeloader.”

His words struck you in a strange way. Bucky never used to worry about your perception of him. And you never thought twice about how he saw you. There was a mutual respect and sense of comfort that didn’t fall victim to judgement. You accepted each other without hesitation. But Bucky couldn’t find his sense of security. He shifted in his seat and averted his eyes every so often, fearful of your inner monologue.

“Why are you so worried about what I think?”

Confusion lifted Bucky’s brow, “what do you mean?”

“You just said that you don’t want me to think you’re a freeloader. And in the car earlier, you said you didn’t reach out and ask me for help because you care about what I think.” You shrugged, “I just want to know why my opinion matters so much to you.”

“Because you’re my friend,” his tone was sure, steadfast. “I’ve always cared about your opinion.”

“Yeah,” hearing him call you his friend eased some of the tension in your neck. “And I care about what you think of me, too, but- I was never worried about it.” A sudden thought popped into your head, “I mean, I’ve been worrying about it lately, cause it kinda seemed like you hated my guts for a while there, but…” 

Bucky stared down at his empty plate. He didn’t want you pulling at this thread, didn’t want you unraveling his thought process. He prayed you’d drop the whole thing and move on. 

You didn’t.

“Sam’s your friend, too. Don’t you care what he thinks?” You feared coming on too strong, but you needed answers. “He knows about what you’ve been going through. You let him help you. You didn’t-” you stopped yourself. 

Bucky gave you an expectant look, “I didn’t what?”

“You didn’t cut him off.”

Bucky’s face fell. You never meant to hurt him, to make him feel bad about pushing you away. No matter how badly he hurt you, you’d never throw it in his face- especially after you learned why he did it.

“Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”

 “No, don’t apologize,” a sad smile crossed his face. “You’re right.” He was quiet for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He planned on having this conversation with you someday, months from now. He didn’t have his script organized, didn’t know how to best express what he was feeling. Worry encapsulated him. What if he misspoke? What if he messed things up even worse?

“Things with Sam are different. He and I became friends because of Steve. We promised him we’d look out for each other.”

It sounded all too familiar. “You and I promised each other the same thing…” It was a pinky promise made on the living room floor of the compound. In the middle of the night, by the light of the fireplace, you swore to be there for one another come hell or high water. Never did you even consider breaking that covenant, that bond. You upheld your end of the bargain without issue. But Bucky fell short. 

He thought about that promise every night, berating himself for breaking it until he fell asleep. 

He sighed, “I know we did, but- that’s not the same thing. You and I became friends when everything fell apart. The entire universe was in chaos, everyone’s lives imploded.” He dragged his gaze downward, “You and I were on an even playing field back then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back then, we were equals,” a faint smile flickered on his lips at the thought of those days he spent with you. They were dark, sure, but he remembered them fondly. Those were the days when he never left your side, the days when we woke up and fell asleep next to you. His favorite days. “We slept on the floor at the compound. We lived off ramen and red bull and worked around the clock to try and figure out how bring everyone back. We struggled. Together. But now…” He looked around your beautiful kitchen, “everything is okay again, and everyone has gone back to their lives. You’re doing well- really well. And I’m stillstruggling. I’m in almost the exact same position as I was back then.”

Words formed a traffic jam in your throat. Each new idea of how to comfort Bucky seemed too sappy, too corny. Just as a new phrase tried to exit your lips, you swallowed it. How were you supposed to make him feel better? How were you going to make any of this okay?

Bucky knew you were at a loss. He could see your desperate attempts to come up with a fix-it phrase for his situation, a way to assuage the way he felt. All you ever wanted was to make him feel better. “You have this great apartment and you’re working for SWORD. You found your way out. Meanwhile, I’m scrounging together any cash I can find to pay for a few nights in a rat-infested motel. Or I’m sleeping in the park- and getting arrested for it.”

He was going through a hard time- a really hard time. His life was in shambles and a new hardship greeted him at every turn. But you couldn’t make sense of his departure from your life. If anything, he should’ve grown closer to you, shouldn’t he? He should’ve leaned on you, asked you for help, sought comfort in your arms. 

“I guess I’m just- does that automatically mean we can’t be friends?”

Bucky’s humiliation piled on top of itself. It grew with each breath, with each passing moment. Admitting just how destitute he was, how utterly lacking- it destroyed him. “No, but- who wants to be friends with that guy? Who wants to hang out with the guy who can’t figure his shit out?” A strange mixture of frustration and melancholy dripped from his words. “I have nothing. And I’m just not- I can’t be your friend yet.”

His words hit you like a train. “We were already friends; you were my closest friend-”

“We were rock bottom friends,” his voice was low, hollow. “We were wartime friends.” It came out almost as a recitation, as thought this was something he told himself to justify his actions. 

You swore he made up that phrase right there in your kitchen. It seemed more like an excuse than an explanation. “What does that even mean?”

“A wartime friend, it’s- it’s the person you cling to when the world implodes. The person you’d never actually be friends with in real life, but you lean on them when life falls apart because they’re just- they’re there.”

The day you two met, Bucky found you crying in a supply closet at the compound. You were at the end of your rope, heartbroken over the loss of friends and family. Never had you experienced such an earth-shattering loss. You had no one- nothing. But Bucky was there for you. For a moment, you weren’t alone. You had someone. And he quickly became your favorite someone.

“People get desperate during wartime, you know?” Bucky continued, “They’ll befriend anyone if it brings them even a sliver of peace or comfort.”

“So, you thought-”

“I thought for sure that’s what you were doing.” 

Bucky stood from his chair. Anxiety ate away at him from the inside, leaving him unable to sit any longer. “I mean, you knew who I was. You knew I was a mentally ill, train wreck of a person. I figured we’d buddy up until the clouds parted- since neither of us had any other options- and then when things when back to normal, you’d find your real friends.”

He considered himself a consolation prize, a leftover. He didn’t know that, from the very beginning, you considered him a ‘real’ friend.

“But after knowing you for a few days, I wasn’t okay with that anymore,” his words came out hurried, almost frantic. “I wanted to be friends with you for real. I wanted you to want me around after we fixed everything. But I knew there was no way you’d want me as a friend outside of the shitstorm.” 

The realization played out across his face in real time. You watched happiness turn to disappointment, to despair, to desperation. 

“So, I just resigned myself to enjoy our time while it lasted. I knew it was all the friendship I could ever hope to get from you-” A shy smile pulled at his lips, “though, I was lucky to be close to you for any measure of time.” 

The smile faded, “but then when it was all over, and things went back to normal, you kept reaching out. You kept trying to get in touch with me and I- I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t make sense of it-” 

You gave a small shake of your head, “I missed you. I needed you. I just wanted to see you…”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to react. I panicked.” The nervous energy left Bucky’s buddy all at once. He slid into his chair and let his spine rest heavy against the wood. A sense of dejection befell him like and angry, icy sleet. “I didn’t want you to see me struggle in real life. I didn’t want you to see how much my actual life resembled the disaster we’d been living in. Cause when you look at my situation in the cold light of day it’s…” he swallowed the urge to hide from his humiliation. “It’s ugly. There’s no romanticizing what I’m dealing with.”

“I know you’re going through a lot right now.” For the first time in almost a year, you reached across the table for his hand. And for the first time in almost a year, he let you. “But Buck, you are not the only person struggling. I know it feels that way, but there are still so many people trying to get their lives on track after the blip- I’m still trying to get my head right. No one has a perfect life.”

Bucky gave a gentle scoff, “I know, but yours is a lot closer to perfect than mine.”

Again, you found yourself at a loss. No pep talk, no encouraging words, could make Bucky feel better about his situation. And nothing you could say had the power to fix how he felt about the state of his life. Instead of speaking, you opted to wrap his hand in both of yours the way you used to. You only hoped it would comfort him like the old days.

After a while, Bucky spoke again, “I just wanted to get my life together before I saw you again. You know? Cause my situation right now is embarrassing. I was afraid to admit the truth of my reality.”

You nodded, “And that’s why-”

“That’s why I was so weird when we ran into each other the other day,” he confirmed. He cringed at the way he acted, the way he treated you. It was all wrong. “I knew you saw me leave the motel. I knew I couldn’t pay for a meal at that diner. I was afraid that, as we spent more time together, you’d put the puzzle pieces in place and figure out that I’m a mess.”

His sense of frantic desperation reclaimed him all at once. He leaned forward and captured your hands in his own as his gaze bore into yours. “I never wanted to cut you out of my life- you have to know that. I need you to know that.” 

Tears formed along your lash line, creating a haze around your vision. “I know.”

“I just needed time,” he said. “I needed time to prove that I’m not a loser, that I’m good enough- I just wanted to be good enough for you.”

“Buck, you didn’t have to prove anything to me. And what do you mean you needed to be good enough? I’ve only ever wanted you to be yourself...” It was the most certain, the surest you’d ever been of anything. Bucky was exactly enough. He was himself, and that was all you could ever ask.

“And hey, I bailed you out of jail tonight without having any idea what you did- I didn’t even ask. I didn’t care. I was going to be there for you, regardless. Because I care about you.”

The storm clouds in his eyes parted. He hadn’t even thought about that, about how you paid for his release without context. If ever he doubted how you felt about him, that gesture was enough to set him straight.

He bowed his head a moment, thanking his lucky stars for your gracious nature. “I know you care about me. And I’m so sorry I abandoned you like that- I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t know what to do…”

“It’s okay,” you sniffled. 

Bucky freed your hands for a moment, allowing you to wipe the tears flowing down your cheeks. He recaptured them as soon as he could, even if your knuckles were still damp. 

“Well, it’s not okay- like, don’t do it again,” you joked. “But I understand now why you felt the way you felt. And you understand that I want you in my life, full stop. Right?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah, I get that now.”

With the deepest sigh of relief you could muster, you banished the feeling of abandonment Bucky with which Bucky saddled you. You shed your fears, your worries. The deep pit that formed in your stomach all those months ago closed, the prickling anxiety in your chest faded away. And for the first time in long time, you breathed easy.

“Just so you know- and I don’t wanna hear any complaints or refusals on this-” you gave Bucky a look, prompting him to nod in agreement. “You have to have at least one more plate of food.”

A rebuttal brewed beneath Bucky’s surface, his fear of imposing rearing its ugly head. He’d already called in a massive favor, had you pay his bail, used your shower, and eaten your food. The anxiety of overstepping vibrated inside his skull. But he kept his promise and nodded in agreement. 

“And-”

“And?” he gave you an exasperated look. 

You gave a firm nod, “Yes, there’s an ‘and’!” 

Bucky sighed out a tired laugh, “What more could there be?” A sudden darkness eclipsed his expression. His smile fell, his laugh halted. Anxiety had him by the throat. His snaked his hands away from yours and tightened them into tight fists. “I already feel like I’m taking advantage…”

“You’re not. I promise.” All at once, you were fed up with sitting across from him. You needed to be closer, as close as possible. Bucky needed to feel your sincerity, to hear your words loud and clear. In a flash, you gave up your seat across the table for the one right next to him. “You can’t impose or take advantage- not here. Because…”

Bucky eyed you with a nervous glance, “because?”

“Because… you live here now!” A victorious laugh fluttered out of your throat, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

Shock overtook Bucky’s expression. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. His heart raced, his hand shook. All color drained from his face. “No, I can’t- that’s too nice…” He stared at you, “Are you serious?”

You nodded, “Dead serious. This is your home now, too.” Suddenly, you felt the need to clarify. “But only if you want. This isn’t like, a hostage situation or anything.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a loud laugh that nearly brought tears to your eyes. He hadn’t felt this carefree, this at peace, in a very long time. He didn’t remember the last time he laughed this way. 

“Well, that is a relief,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d love to live here with you, I’d be- I’m so…” Suddenly, his hands found yours. He squeezed your fingers until your pulse throbbed against your skin. His anxiety practically seeped into your bones. “But I swear, I’m not gonna stop looking for a job or trying to get my benefits. I promise. I’m not gonna sit around like a deadbeat and mooch off you-”

“Buck, don’t worry about that right now, okay?” 

He shook his head, “And I won’t stay here too long, I’ll-”

“Hey,” With great effort, you pulled your hands from his and places your palms against his cheeks. “There’s no move out date. There’s no ticking clock. You’re allowed to live here as long as you want- I want you here.” You shot him a smile, “Plus, I’ve missed you- a lot. So this arrangement is good for me, too.”

A swirling cloud of worry hovered above Bucky’s head. He was overwhelmed, you could tell. He tensed his jaw, his shoulders. His every muscle went rigid. “But are you sure? This is generous- it’s too generous.”

“I’m sure. Here-” You stood from your chair and gestured for him to do the same, “I thought you might need this.”

With that, you enveloped him in a tight hug. Back at the compound, a hug from you could solve any and every problem for Bucky. And his embrace did the same for you. There was something so warm, so welcoming about the arms of the other. It was salvation, it was solace. It was home. Without a place to live, Bucky could survive. But without you, without his home, he’d been lost. As he wrapped his arms around you, though, his entire world changed. And the severed soul tie you feared would never heal grew back once again, stronger than ever.

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

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

[minniesfiles]

BLOOM WITH YOU | prologue

After nearly three years of heartbreak and disappointment, you and your husband’s dream of starting a family seemed out of reach. But miracle was a beautiful thing.

❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader

❧ GENRE; angst, fluff, light smut

❧ WARNINGS; emotional talk, mention of alcohol

❧ WORDCOUNT; 1.5k

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series masterlist

𐚁₊⊹

▍13 MARCH 2019

Wonwoo juggled the house keys in his hand as his tired eyes scanned the porch light flickering above. As the door swung open, you pushed past him with an exaggerated groan. The first thing you did was immediately slip off your black stilettos and drop them carelessly onto the hardwood floor.

You stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed onto it face-first, releasing a long, dramatic sigh. “Finally,” you muttered into the cushions.

The evening was long — way longer than you had expected. Your older sister and her husband threw a dinner party to celebrate her pregnancy. While it was wonderful to see your family and friends and enjoy the excitement of the news, by the time you got home, you and your boyfriend were utterly drained.

Wonwoo followed you inside, shaking his head with a small chuckle as he closed the door, locked it, and set the keys on the table by the entrance. The tranquility in your home was what you both desperately needed as the noisy evening grew longer.

“Rough night?” he teased, making his way over to you.

You rolled onto your back and glared at him playfully. “Not rough — just long. My feet are killing me. Why did I think wearing these heels was a good idea?”

Wonwoo smirked. “Because they look great on you. Totally worth the pain.”

You groaned again, this time throwing an arm dramatically over your eyes. “Says the man who spent the night in loafers.”

He crouched down in front of you, leaning over until your faces were mere inches apart. “I seem to remember you saying something about how much fun tonight was.”

“It was fun,” you admitted with a small smile. “But you know how my family gets. It’s like a marathon — Miyeon’s stories that continues on forever, dad’s terrible jokes, mum pretending she’s not already planning the baby shower…”

“And your uncle Han cornering me about investment opportunities for a solid thirty minutes,” Wonwoo added, his voice dry but amused.

You laughed. It was a soft, melodic sound that made Wonwoo smile despite his own tiredness. He leaned down further and tilted his head to give you an upside-down kiss on the lips. It was a slow, sweet gesture — unhurried, as if you both had all the time in the world. When you parted, you sighed again, but this time it was a contented sound.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you murmured with your eyes half-closed.

“I try” your boyfriend grinned as he straightened his posture.

He wandered toward the kitchen while leaving you sprawled on the couch. The sound of cabinets opening and closing drifted into the living room as he rummaged for something to snack on.

“You want tea or something?” he called out.

You lifted your head lazily. “Wine. Do we still have that red from last week?”

Wonwoo poked his head around the corner, an eyebrow raised. “You just spent the whole evening saying you’re ‘too old’ for another glass.”

“Yeah, and now I’ve changed my mind,” you said with a mischievous smile.

He disappeared back into the kitchen, and a moment later, you heard the cork pop. You sat up and stretched your legs out across the couch, wincing slightly as you flexed your toes. The stilettos had really been a bad choice, but they matched your dress perfectly, and you weren’t about to let a little discomfort ruin your outfit.

Wonwoo returned with two glasses of wine, handing one to you before sitting down beside you. You clinked glasses softly.

“To surviving the circus,” Wonwoo said, raising his glass.

You laughed. “And to Miyeon and her little bundle of joy.”

You both sipped in silence for a while. You leaned your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder while your glass rested on your knee. “Do you ever think about what it’ll be like when it’s our turn?”

Wonwoo glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Our turn for what?”

“You know — for a baby,” you said softly.

Wonwoo took a moment to think, swirling the wine in his glass. “I think it’ll be chaos. But the good kind.”

You smiled, a dreamy look in your eyes. “I hope so. Miyeon looked so happy tonight. It’s weird to think she’s going to be someone’s mum.”

“And you’ll be the cool aunt,” Wonwoo added with a grin.

“Obviously,” you said with a mock-serious tone. “It’s basically my destiny.”

You both laughed. Your exhaustion was temporarily forgotten as you talked about the future. The conversation flowed from baby names to vacations you wanted to take before settling down.

“But seriously,” he said, his tone softening. “Did tonight…you know, make you think about what it would be like? To be parents?”

You took a sip of your wine, considering his question. “It did. I mean, it’s not something I think about every day, but tonight…yeah. Seeing Miyeon and how excited she is, it made me wonder what it would feel like to be in her shoes.”

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “I think about it sometimes. Not all the details, but just…us. Having a little one. It’s kind of scary, but also kind of exciting, you know?”

You smiled at him, feeling your heart swelling at the thought. You could vaguely picture the two of you adjusting to parenthood together, having quiet moments with your child and laughing through sleepless nights.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It is.”

You curled up against your boyfriend, and he draped an arm around you, pulling you closer as you sank deeper into the sofa cushions.

“Hey,” he whispered after a while with his deep and gentle voice.

“Hmm?” you murmured and looked up at him.

“I think you’ll be an amazing mum someday,” he said, and kissed the top of your head.

“And you’ll be a pretty great dad” you smiled.

“Pretty great? I was aiming for legendary” Wonwoo chuckled softly.

“Don’t push your luck Jeon” you teased.

As the conversation drifted on, your laughter returned. When your glass emptied, you stood to refill it. Wonwoo hesitated as he glanced at you.

“You sure you want another?” he asked.

“Why not? It’s been a long day” you said, brushing off his concern. You poured yourself another generous glass and returned to the sofa, sinking back into the cushions. Wonwoo watched you closely with his own glass still half-full.

You raised your glass to your lips and downed the wine in a single go. Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly as he watched the dark red liquid disappear in an instant, and he set his glass down on the coffee table.

“Babe,” he said gently, “maybe slow down a bit.”

With the glass rim still pressed to your lips, you paused for a second. Your face was unreadable as you slowly lowered it. Your boyfriend tilted his head slightly to the side as concern flickered in his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked.

For a long moment, you didn’t respond. Then, to Wonwoo’s surprise, your eyes glistened with unshed tears. You blinked rapidly to get rid of them, but it was too late as a single tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another. You sniffled and brushed them away hastily with the back of your hand.

“Y/n…” Wonwoo placed his glass on the table and moved closer, his voice low and gentle. “Baby what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

You shook your head and pressed your lips tightly together. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” your words trembled. “It’s just…tonight, seeing Miyeon, hearing everyone talk about babies and families and the future…it made me feel—” you broke off, your breath hitching.

Wonwoo placed a hand on your knee to steady you. “It made you feel what?” he pressed.

You looked at him, your eyes searching his for understanding. “It made me feel like I’m running out of time.”

“Running out of time? What do you mean?” Wonwoo frowned, his brow furrowing.

“I don’t know,” you said again, your voice rising slightly.

“It’s irrational, I know it is. But seeing Miyeon, knowing she’s already there, already starting that chapter of her life…it just made me wonder if I’m falling behind somehow. Like…what if we’re not ready when the time comes? What if we never get there?”

“Y/n” Wonwoo’s voice was firm but kind. He took both of your hands in his, anchoring you. “You’re not falling behind. And we’re not on anyone else’s timeline. We’re going to get there when we’re ready — when you’re ready. There’s no rush.”

You nodded, but the tears kept coming. “I know,” you whispered.

“I know you’re right. But it’s hard not to compare, you know? Especially with everyone watching and waiting for us to be next. We’re not even married yet”

Wonwoo pulled you into his arms and held you tightly as you cried softly against his chest. He stroked your hair in a gentle and reassuring manner.

“Hey,” he murmured. “We’re in this together, okay? Whenever the time comes, we’ll figure it out. And until then, we’re going to enjoy where we are now. There’s no rush to get to the next chapter — we’re writing our story at our own pace.”

You nodded against his chest, and your tears slowed as his words sank in. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

He gave you a tender smile as his large hands cupped your face. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I love you too”

[martygraciesversion381]

21

oscar piastri x ex!reader

WARNINGS‼️: Smut!, pnv, unprotected smut (please be safe!), exes to lovers, angst, fluff

a/n: my best smut so far!!! hope you'll like this as much as i did writing it!! inspired by gracie's song 21

masterlist

April 6th 2022. The day that you waited all year and now you only wanted this day to disappear forever. You tried to call Oscar you really did but after you broke his heart when he was sure you were the love of his life it was hard to talk with him. 

You still loved him and you couldn’t stand the thought of him happy while you were hurting at your house. You took your phone and dialled Oscar’s number before throwing it across the room. 

You shouldn’t have broken up with him cause you still loved him and apparently he had another girlfriend. God you should’ve kept that man to yourself and not let him go. Sometimes you see the look in his eyes on tv when he talks about last year when you were dating and you want to kill yourself for making him hurt this much. 

Suddenly, you stood up and went into your room to change into the pretty black dress that you bought last week. You take you heels and grab your phone and a jacket before exiting your house and walking out in the cold of the night. 

While you walk, you spot a couple walking together into the street like you and Oscar used to do and you can feel tears building into your eyes. You continue walking when suddenly your phone buzzes. You look at it and see a call from Oscar. 

You pick up the call. "Hi" you whisper. "Hi y/n….i wanted to know if you’d like to come over at mine. I…I’d like to rebuild our friendship if it’s okay." a smile finds its way on your face at Oscar’s words. "You didn’t need to call me up I’m already under." You look up to the house you were standing next to and you see Oscar smiling at the window after seeing you. 

A few seconds later, he is standing at his door in one of his McLaren shirts looking at you. "You look gorgeous." You smile and mutter a small thanks before you both enter his house and go sit on the couch. You both drink a bit of champagne as the night goes on. You can feel your friendship growing again and you couldn’t be more happy. 

"Happy birthday by the way" you say to Oscar. He smiles at you. "Have you already made your wish?" "Yes I did actually" he answers "And what have you wished for?" He leans closer to you. "This" he answers before kissing you. Your arms find instinctively their way around his neck as you climd on his lap straddling him. He wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close to him while you grind your hips on his now hard erection. 

He groans into your mouth and you swallow it while both of your tongues fight for dominance. He breaks the kiss to take off his shirt and you caress his exposed chest and shoulders with your hands. He kisses your neck and bites it gently sinking his teeth in your smooth skin. 

You get up and take off your dress letting it pool at your feet. Oscar looks at you in awe before taking off his pants and pulling you back on his lap. "Gorgeous" he mumbles before continuing to mark you up. You moan softly and tug at his hair and he groans on your skin making you even more aroused. 

He unclamps your bra and let it fall on the floor before going back to kissing you tenderly. "Love you" you mumble against his lips. His eyes widen and he pulls back."W…what?" You feel fear filling you and you’re scared that he’ll push you away. Oscar feels the fear inside you and he places a comforting hand on your thigh. "I love you too…I just was a bit surprised that’s all" he rubs circular motions with his thumb on your thigh before his fingers find their way between your legs and brush against your panties.

"Look at how wet you are for me darling so desperate for my touch. Wanna feel my dick inside you? Want me to stretch you? Want me to fuck you so bad and fill you up so you won’t be able to walk?" You nod and moan. "Please Osc want you" he smirks before picking you up and taking you to the bed. He lays you down and hovers you with his body. He places a quick kiss on your nose before taking your panties and his boxers off. 

"You’re one the pill?" You nod and he slams his dick into you with a harsh thrust. He starts to fuck you without mercy hitting your g-spot with each of his hard and deep thrusts. While Oscar continues fucking you, you feel a familiar knot building into your stomach. "You close? Gonna cum on my dick like a good girl?" You moan and he brings his thumb to your clit rubbing it bringing you closer to your orgasm. The knot in your stomach finally unties and you become a shaking mess under Oscar. Moans are spilling down your lips while you milk his dick with your juices. 

Oscar grunts before coming inside you prolonging both of your highs. You both lay down on his bed. Your head rests on his chest and his arms wrap around your waist. You both fall asleep knowing that the future reserved something good for the both of you even if you were just 21.

tagglist:

@motorsportbarbie13 @f1addict3 @carloswinner @gorgeusreputation16 @swiftlyconehead @g00d--vibes @paulinegba

[whimsicalpolitical]

Use me - Matty Healy x Reader

in which you always come to matty when your boyfriend doesn’t get you off

content warning: 18+mdni, smut, p in v, cheating, face sitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, handjob, aftercare,

“Sorry, where you uhm, going somewhere?” You ask Matty, pointing to his loosened tie and shirt.

“Nah, came back from dinner,” your eyes shoot up at his face. Dinner sounds romantic. He sees right through you though and eases your nerves, “dinner with my mates, love.”

You nod, taking another sip of your hot tea which matty brought you five minutes after banging on his door in the middle of the night.

“D���you need something else?” He asks, “anything at all?”

“No, thank you,” you smile, sinking deeper into the couch, hoping you could stay here forever.

Matty hums and sits next to you, at the end of the couch. He’s throwing his head back slowly, rubbing his forehead.

You watch. You trace the vein under his neck until it disappears into his shirt. His tousled hair reminds you of all the times you tugged at his curls because it was too much. Fuck. You’re still sticky between your legs. You were not able to chase your own pleasure because it doesn’t matter to your boyfriend, it never did and it never will.

Matty always gives a shit, perhaps that’s why you’re here, because you know you’ll feel good. Or maybe you’re here because he shows you an escape from the reality and he’s the only one who has that ability.

“Do I have something on my face?” He jokes, his eyes on you.

You shake your head, “no, it’s perfect as always.”

“Charmer.” Matty spreads his legs further and turns to you, “now, would you like to talk about why you came to mine at two in the morning or should we skip that part where you tell me your little boy isn’t enough for you?”

“Matty-“ you tilt your head and want to apologize, that you’re not using him for your own good but to tell him you enjoy his company.

“Actually, I would like to know what happened this time. Couldn’t he make you finish or did he not care in the first place, c’mon what was it?”

You sigh before locking eyes with him. The brown eyes you can’t stop thinking about. Ever.

“The second,” you respond with shame, “but I don’t care anymore, I just want you, can’t stop thinking about you.”

Matty lets a laugh slip out of his mouth before he moves closer to you, taking your legs and dragging them across his lap.

“Oh, darling, that’s a fucked up situation you’re in, s’ a real shame though- for him I mean.”

His hands are going up and down your thighs, teasing you, making you go crazy.

“What did you say to him ‘fore you left, sure didn’t say you were going to see me.”

You shrug, “told him I need to get work done, I guess.”

Matty hums, his hands now closer to the place you want him the most.

His knuckles brush against your lower stomach which is on display because your shirt had risen up. He sends goosebumps down your body at the feeling of his warm hands on your bare body and you want nothing but to feel them everywhere.

Matty wants to be close to you as well so he takes the opportunity and drags you onto his lap with his arms under your knees.

You don’t have time to make a sound because his mouth is on you again.

You part your lips willingly, gasping when he lurches forward and slides his tongue along yours, biting and sucking at your lips. Matty groans softly at the faint noises you make, your fingers tightening in his hair, the pleasing sting in his scalp sending jolts down to his hard cock.

“mmm matty” You’re panting, desperate for air he won't give you. He likes this—making you gasp, making you weak, making you forget entirely about your boyfriend.

Your hips move over his’ one slow time, gasping at the friction.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grips your hips and drags you across his bulge again, enjoying the pleasure himself, “is’ good?”

“Yeah-“ you breathe out, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, his hands finding his way to your ass.

“Matty-“ you gasp, as his jeans hit your clit over and over. You can’t wait, it’s impossible. You tried all night to chase your pleasure but how, if your boyfriend stops when he’s done and doesn’t help you.

“Please, can we-“

Matty is quick to lay you down on the couch, dragging your jeans with your panties down your legs. He shakes his head though when he throws your jeans down the couch.

“I don’t want you to beg, alright? M’sure you’ve done enough of that tonight. I just want you to use me, make yourself feel good, the way you deserve.”

You bite down on to your bottom lip, nodding.

“Want to kiss you here first, that alright?” He asks, spreading your legs with his hand.

“Fuck- yes.”

“Mhm,” he leans down, eyes looking up at you one more time before his gaze fixates on your dripping cunt.

"Fuckin' christ. You're a mess down here. You really tried, hm?” he says, and you can feel every word blow against you.

"Uh-huh," you say, a kiss sucked to your thigh striking stealing all thought from your mind.

"Get close?" he asks, with another kiss, hands kneading at your thighs and ass as they wrap around you and try to tug you closer.

You nod, hoping he can see you as your eyes slip closed with the feeling of him right here, between your legs.

“That’s fucking cruel though,” he chuckles, “fucking dickhead, would make you come everyday for the rest of my bloody life.”

He bites the inside of your thighs until you feel a soft, teasing kiss to your clit. You shudder and whine and your hand falls to his curls to encourage him to give you more.

“Please just-“

“Darling, ease up, like I said, use me, c’mon let’s switch places.”

You frown, not knowing what he actually means but it gets clear when Matty shoves a pillow under his head and you straddle him but he tugs you up his chest.

“Wait-“ you slow him down, “shirt off?”

“Sure,” he says, opening the four buttons that were closed, “now.. up.”

He's licking his lips and looking up at you - all over every inch of you - eating you alive with his stare.

He pushes and pulls you then, dragging you up his chest until your knees are settled either side of his face. You can feel the gust of his breath against your thighs iust before he hauls you forward a little more until his half face is completely covered by your cunt, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose visible now.

“Fuck, love, need me so bad you’re dripping down your thighs. I’m not making you wait, sit down, darling.”

“That’s it.” You settle down slowly onto his face, listening as he guides you down until you feel the first broad swipe of his tongue up through your folds.

"Perfect,” he says, swallowing the taste of you.

He kisses around your clit, nudging it with the curved tip of his nose when he finally licks up into you again.

And then, he's pulling your flush to his face and feasting.

The noise that leaves you is stupid. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a question all at once. His nose is pressed against you, his laughter fanning out across your mound as you try not to squirm and wiggle against him, fearful of crushing his head beneath your weight, or at the very least suffocating him.

His face burrows deeper, his hands holding you firm, squeezing and scraping calloused fingertips against your delicate skin.

His hands move from anchoring you to his face, locked around your thighs, to pressing against your ass, gripping the globes of them in each of his broad hands.

He grunts, squeezing your thighs up to your hips as he pulls your clit into his mouth, lathering it with his spit and your wetness. It's white-hot: the pressure on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, the insistent bump of his nose against your clit as he teases his tongue around your tight hole.

"Matty, Matty, fuck," is all you can manage, sweet little gasps that he drinks in, his hips bucking involuntarily with the delicious pain of your fingers pulling at his scalp. You're losing grip on the real world and slipping elsewhere, and he wants to get you there.

One of Matty’s hands slides between your legs, easing them open even more, and rests on your belly, shifting to your ribcage and helping you steady yourself atop him. His fingertips graze your breasts under your shirt.

“Mhmm, fuck, perfect,” he mumbles.

The sounds are slick and obscene, mingled with your drunken sighs and words of encouragement as you curl your fingers against the couch uselessly.

"Matty,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face, “so good, shit.”

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly.

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly. He'll imprint the feeling of him on your skin forever-if he hasn't already. He'll make sure you never have another man like you have him.

"I'm... oh, fuck, I'm gonna..." Your hips buck wildly, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you steadfast and firm to his face. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and fixes his tongue to you, wiggling slightly as he feels you stiffen above him. "Matty, shit.”

He knows. You're already coming. You’re both not surprised, you’ve been trying the whole evening and the orgasm that’s been stolen is now more than back.

“Yeah, like that, darling,” he praises, lapping at your cunt in the same pace.

Your hand leaves his hair and braces next to your other one on the couch, ensuring you don't fall over as your thighs shake uncontrollably and your mouth drops open in a keening whine. Matty keeps sucking at your clit long after your orgasm fades and you cry out from the overstimulation.

Gently, you reach down to tug his hair, and he reluctantly pulls away. He's so hard he can't conjure much mental activity besides getting his dick wet.

“Alright?” He asks with a big grin on his face.

“More than,” you respond.

Your chest is heaving as you try to pick your leg up and get off him, but your strength fails you. Instead, Matty grabs your hips and sits up, your cunt sliding down to sit on top of his erection. Experimentally, you grind down on him, watching a muscle in his jaw feather.

"Need you. Are you going to let me take your pants off?" you ask him, teasing, your finger tracing the metal of his belt buckle.

He grits his teeth, letting you take control for a moment, sliding the belt achingly slow out of each loop.

“Do anything you want to, you’re in control. Don’t need to act all modest with me.”

You dip your body low to his chest and press gentle kisses all the way down to his stomach.

Matty moans brokenly when you shuck his jeans down his legs and squeeze his hard length before it can slap up against his stomach. Your tongue darts out and licks up the precum pooling at his slit, making his cock twitch in your grasp. “jesus,” he groans. “You don’t have to, darling, you can make this all about yourself.”

You ignore him.

Your soft lips part around the throbbing head of his cock. Squeezing his strong thighs to ground yourself, you swirl your tongue around the tip and take him deeper, your throat expanding to accommodate him in your mouth. Your thumb rubs over his ‘we are kings’ tattoo like you always do, you look at him as you do so. His eyes are watery, blinking hard to expel the tears, his hand instinctively cradling the crown of your head to keep you on him, keep you choking around him.

“Christ, fuck,—” His fingers curl in your hair and gently urge you off his cock; you pout, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. His dick jumps at the sight, lying hard on his stomach.

“Don’t pout, don’t need to come in your gorgeous mouth if you want me again,” he rasps.

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes but of course you listen and crawl up his body until your hips are flush, his hardness slotted, thick and throbbing, between your folds. The hum that leaves your mouth is wanton, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. His hands move to your lower back, digging into the flesh just above your ass so you’re forced to roll your hips along his shaft.

“Have at it, darling,” he says.

You lift yourself up but instead of sinking down you take his cock into your hand and start moving up and down.

Matty shudders and grips your wrist, “fuckin, d’you want to kill me?”

You only giggle and shake your head innocently, “want you to fuck me now, I’ve been good.”

“Yeah, you reckon you are?” he reaches down, his hands going to your hips and guiding you down onto him. You both let out a moan as he fills you, the sensation almost overwhelming.

“You feel so good, love,” he breathes, looking down at where his cock disappears, “want you all the time n’ I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being with him.”

You look at each other, pupils dilated, mouths parted. You don’t move, not just yet, but you lean forward to crash your lips against Matty’s as a response.

Your hand grips the back of his neck to keep him exactly where he is, his tongue gliding across yours, filthy sounds coming from the both of you when you finally start to move.

“Yeah- fuck, you’re so good.”

You can feel his gaze on you, and it only served to heighten the pleasure building inside you. You start to ride him properly, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, his grip almost painful as he struggles to maintain control. The sounds he is making are sinful, the low moans and gasps escaping his lips spurring you on.

“Oh fuck, Matty,” you moan, “you make me feel so good.”

“Y-yeah?” He gasps, his thumb coming down your body to rub your clit in a torturous, slow pace, wanting to build the pressure, “s’ what I want, babe, need you to feel good.”

You moan again when he lowers his face to kiss you all over your breasts, sucking and biting at your nipple, offering you another way of stimulation.

“Need you, Matty, need you,” you repeat, your head falling against his shoulder while you keep your pace, your hips moving up and down.

“You have me, love,” he groans, moving his thumb a bit faster.

You clench around him and he can’t help himself but thrust into you so deep it makes you scream his name so loud you thank yourself he doesn’t have neighbors.

“Keep doin’ that,” he moans, “fuck.”

“Please,” you beg, just wanting to come with him all together, “Matty please.”

“I’ve got you,” he says, his brown eyes melting when he sees your fucked out face, “wanna come so badly again? Couldn’t feel good all evening and you need me for it?”

“Yes,” you admit, your hips slowing down, not having the energy like you had in the beginning, “fuck- I can’t.”

Matty hums and grips your hips, helping you to ride him faster, “like that, s’good, rub your clit for me though.”

You don’t waist a second and start as fast as when he stopped.

“Fuck, matty.”

“You’re perfect,” he says, moving his hips with yours, doubling the pleasure, “I- fuck, are you close?”

You know he is. His thrusts are faltering, eyes closed, head thrown back, his hands definitely bruising you but you don’t care. You want him to mark you. And honestly you couldn’t care less, not when you’re at the edge, letting yourself fall into him completely.

You clench around him again, a sign that you are close.

“Kiss me,” you whine, “plea-“

He does, it’s not a perfect, sweet kiss. He’s moaning against you, lips messily on yours, licking into your mouth as you both move together.

"You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you're worthless."

Matty’s mouth is everywhere-his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous," he groans, “fucks sake, my girl.”

He spurs you on and you can’t go any longer.

“Matty, im gonna come, can I- fuck.”

You whimper, your body trembling as the pleasure mounts, your mind going blank as Matty’s cock slams into you harder, deeper. Your hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours-it is too much, and you feel yourself spiraling toward release.

"You don’t need to ask for permission, are you mental?" he laughs, “come for me, love, whenever you want to.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snaps, and you scream his name as your orgasm tears through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as he groans deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, your hips slowing down as his hips slam into you one strong time, releasing in you with a whimper, groan and moan, “jesus fucking christ.”

You whine, only grinding softly against him until you’re both too fucking exhausted to move.

You stay like this though- with him softening inside of you until he accidentally slips out making the both of you hiss.

“I really really like you,” you say, not being able to lift your forehead from his shoulder just yet, “I swear I’m not using you for this.”

“It’s alright,” he soothes you, hand brushing through your hair, “I’m the last to judge, m’just glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

After a long while Matty decides to lift you up, keeping your legs wrapped around him. You whine at the new coldness, air hitting your naked form.

“I’ll just need to clean you up, darling, you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum holding on to him, “bed though, please?”

“Course,” he says, pushing the door with his foot softly that leads you into his bedroom, “I’ll be right back then.”

He lays you down softly but before he can walk to the bathroom you pull him down, holding his face to give him a sweet kiss.

He’s kissing all over your face then, asking you multiple times if you need anything, praises leaving his mouth, “you’ve done so good, love, going to let me get you a towel?”

“Fine,” you groan, rolling your eyes and pushing him away.

While he waddles over to the bathroom, slipping a pair of boxers on while doing so, you get yourself a piece of clothing as well. A simple black shirt from Matty’s drawer.

You flop down onto the bed then and not even a minute later he’s back, a wet towel in his hand and a lotion.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, kneeling on the edge of the bed and spreading your legs, “it’s what you deserve.”

You can’t help but smile at his sweetness, letting him drag the towel up your thighs to your core, hissing at the soreness.

“M’sorry,” he apologizes, being as careful as he can be, “even used warm water, thought it would be more pleasant than cold.”

“It’s alright,” you nod, “thank you.”

His brows are furrowed in that intense way of his, and you are lost, as always, in the precision of it all — how someone so careless about most things could be so careful with you.

When he finally sets the towel aside, his hands replace it, gliding along your thigh with a gentle grip. He reaches for the lotion he brought, squeezing a bit into his hand before warming it between his fingers. The scent is faint, familiar, like something he’d chosen just for you, and he slowly works it into your skin, thumbs pressing softly in circles along the tops of your legs.

You hum, a sound low in your throat, and he glances up at you, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Feel good, love?"

You nod, letting your head rest back on the pillows, eyes drifting shut as his hands continue their slow, steady rhythm.

"Matty?"

"Yeah?"

There is a pause, the silence stretching as you weigh the words you’re holding back. You swallow, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest before you finally let them go. "I think I want to break up with him."

For the first time that night, his hands still, his fingers still warm against your skin as he looks up, his gaze locking onto yours, eyes dark and searching. "You sure?" he asks, voice rough but soft. "I mean… I’d definitely drop that wanker if I were you. But… are you sure?"

You nod, your own voice quieter than you expected. "Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t…" you hesitate, trying to find the right words, "I don’t feel right with him. He’s a selfish bastard, Matty. Only cares about himself. Never really… I don’t know. Not like you do."

The corner of his mouth lifts, just a hint of satisfaction, but he covers it with a quick raise of his brow, setting the lotion bottle aside.

"About time, I’d say. I mean, you deserve better than some bloke who’s all talk and no bloody follow-through." He moves closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. "What kind of idiot would treat you like that? He’s the one who’s missing out.”

"Yeah… I just kept thinking things would get better, you know? Like maybe I was the problem."

Matty’s scoff is loud, dismissive, and his hand finds yours, fingers threading through yours with a surprising softness.

"Nah, not a chance. Don’t you dare let him put that on you. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever walked into his life, and if he was too stupid to see that? Then he deserves what he gets." His fingers squeeze yours, grounding and reassuring. "But you already know that. Just needed a little push?”

You nod, squeezing back. "Guess so."

He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your face as he tilts his head.

“You shouldn’t be with someone who’s not good for you, you know?”

You nod, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and pull him up by his biceps, “you’re right, and that’s why I’m here.”

Matty gets the hint immediately, letting himself be drawn up until he’s lying half on top of you, chest pressing against yours, his weight warm and solid as he settles against you. His head dips down, burying into the crook of your neck, and he lets out a soft, contented sigh, his breath warm against your skin.

“Been wanting this all day,” he murmurs, his voice a little rough, like he’s barely holding back some deeper feeling. “Just you, here with me. None of that rubbish, none of him messing with your head. Just us.

You hum, the sound vibrating in your chest as you feel him relax against you, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair, brushing it back from your face with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through you.

“Can I bring you anything? Water? Tea? Anything you need, just say the word.”

You smile, shaking your head slightly. “No, Matty, I’m good. You’ve done enough already, honestly. Thank you.”

He lifts his head, just enough so he can see your face, his eyes searching yours with that familiar intensity. “Enough? Don’t say that. Not a chance I’m leaving you without everything you could possibly want, got it?”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Well, in that case, just stay here with me. That’s all I want.”

His lips curve into a grin, his eyes warming. “Now that’s the easiest thing you could’ve asked for. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How about this: we sleep in tomorrow. Really let ourselves be lazy, yeah? Then I’ll take you somewhere nice, like that bakery on the corner. We’ll get those ridiculous pastries you like so much. What d’you think?”

You smile, the thought of it filling you with a cozy sense of comfort. “That sounds… perfect, actually. Can we get those chocolate croissants?”

“Anything you want.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll get a dozen if that’s what it takes to see you smile like that.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, his expression softening as he looks at you. “Deserve to feel like this all the time. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Least of all some idiot who doesn’t know what he’s got.”

“Thank you, Matty,” you whisper, meaning it more than you can say.

“Just glad you’re here.” His eyes hold yours for a long moment, then he settles back down, pulling you closer until you’re tangled together. He murmurs one last thing, just as you’re drifting off.

“Sleep well, darling. Wake me if you need something or just feeling lonely.”

You giggle as you start to rub small, slow circles along the back of his head, your fingertips grazing his scalp. He lets out a soft sound, almost a purr, and relaxes even more against you, his kisses drifting down to the corner of your mouth, lingering there as if he’s savoring every second.

“I definitely will,” you joke, “good night.”

“Night,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder blade before you’re both drifting off.

[evieelyzabethh]

What would be worse would be a yandere Jayce back in the apocalypse universe or a yandere Viktor who turned into the herald, why not both. What would it be like if the two were in love with the reader, but never declared themselves... well until these events, perhaps magic corrupted that love and turned it into something dark, perhaps a yanderes fight, perhaps a reconciliation between the two... Could you make a fanfiction of this, perhaps if possible with a female reader?

This came at such a perfect time because I've been having a lot of yandere Arcane thoughts, and it is too far from October to wait to do it for some sort of Halloween event. Needless to say, get ready for Yanuary (everyone say thank you mina for coming up with the name) because I am about to be insufferable. I'll certainly do more with these concepts a bit later, but for now I will leave some headcanons...

tw for obsessive behaviors and Herald!Viktors very flawed line of logic

While both loves start out pure, intentions take a turn for the worst after the world starts to go to shit. While I don't think it's canon, I am a firm believer that Viktor died during that explosion and what is left of him is a persona puppetted around by the Arcane. All of Viktor's raw ambitions; notoriety, an able body, and desire to help the Zaunites all become corrupted. Viktor deeply regrets taking a back seat to negotiations surrounding the fate of those from the Undercity, his pride was too great to beg for scraps from those seated at the table, and thus his genuine want to help those from his home gets sidelined because of his pride and want of glory.

Love is not a corruptible force. When Viktor died, so did his love for you, but those intense feeling certainly linger. That admiration turns to obsession, the need to be adored turns into desperate overcompensation. He feels it is his calling to save the world, he develops a very focused tunnel vision and a savior complex that motivates his every action to not only save the world, but more importantly, save his world. To save you, to preserve you. His dream is to keep you infinitely, that really is the root of his Glorious Evolution. He wants perfection in the human form, the human mind, the human capability. He wants to perfect the human condition, he wants forever.

You must see it his way, you must be his accomplice, he wants you to be by his side every step of the way. The Sky he hallucinates is nothing but an astral projection of a perfected version of her, at times a manifestation of his humanity and why he kept going. She was his regrets, his comfort, she was the bad he was making good. But you. You are what he is striving to build. You are his goal, his muse. Every bit of him that respected you then yearns so deeply for you now. And he hasn't found you yet, you disappeared before he woke up and even Jayce didn't know where you were, but he is sure that if he were to find you, you would understand.

Jayce going yandere would occur after his trip to whatever hell dimension he was left to. Time works differently everywhere, he was only gone for months in the main verse, but it could've been years for him. Years in not just solitude, but a wasteland of death. Jayce is someone who so thoroughly, and at times naively, believes in humanity's capability for good. It's his passion. Him signing his notes, his dedication to his craft, his willingness to learn the ways of politics, his kicking Heimerdinger off the council, his gullibility, his willingness to move wherever the wind from someone's lips takes him, it's all because of faith and a passion for good. Now, everywhere he looks isn't just death, but remnants of war.

Everything he's worked tirelessly to avoid has not only come true but disproves his entire way of thinking. It takes more than him to save the world, it takes more than the help of others to save the world, it may take more than even exists to save the world. Even worse, it may take him not existing to save the world. While Viktor's yandere nature is built from a need to preserve what is right, the only thing that is right, Jayce is a man who is completely and utterly lost.

He doesn't know what's right anymore, but he knows he needs to do something to make it right. He doesn't cling to the thought of you for guidance, he clings to you because it's all he knows. You could've been the worst person in the world, but he would've hoped for you in the end of the world because you were there. You were real. His dream may not have been, but he touched you, and you believed in him, and you were as magical as a wish but as tangible as a physical star. You were bright, and you were warm, and you were real.

And he sits there in that cold, damp cave, nothing but stones, insects, and death around him, and every time he scrawls your face it looks a bit different. Your smell gets mingled with mildew and dampness as that slowly becomes his home, the drops of rain and rock start to sound like the twinkling sound of your voice, everything becomes you. Not for the sake of his sanity, that left him when time began to wave through him until he was convinced he would begin to vomit tick marks, but for the sake of survival. You were his faith. He would've worshipped the ground you walked on, and though you were nothing but dust here, he could find you everywhere. He went through a transcendental awakening; belief needed faith, and faith was all he had. You had to be real, why else would the insects chirp, why else would water flow, why else would he bleed, if not for you, if not because of you. If he believed, then you were real, and he would get back to you one day and be rewarded by his conviction.

When he finds his way back, he is searching for you immediately. Even when his surroundings blend and his ears bleed and he's overwhelmed by life once again, he is convinced that he will find you. You have to be out there. You can't be dead. He's lived in a world without you for too long, he would finally break if he couldn't be with you again. He's possessive. You have only existed in his mind for years; this world has had you all to itself while he suffered endlessly and eternally only wanting you. He's feels entitled to you. He knows you don't need his protection, but you are ignorant to what's out in the world. It's not a matter of if he finds you, it's when. A believer as devout as him wouldn't just go to the ends of the earth, he's already done that. If he must, he'd go beyond. He's been through hell; he is more than deserving of heaven. He knows he was wrong for believing in humanity when he had his God in front of him the whole time.

As for who's worse, it really depends. Physically, Jayce. He doesn't realize his strength, he hasn't had to worry about the delicateness of flesh in a while. His hands have held nothing but harsh rock. He would never intentionally hurt you; he would spiral if he even accidentally caused you any harm. He's far more fragile that Viktor, he's more prone to outbursts, though his violence is always inflicted inward. He believes he's ruined; he only wants to be saved. Viktor is the complete opposite. He would be worse mentally. Like Jayce, he would never physically harm you, but he's not above manipulation. He won't give up on you, you're too precious, but you have to see it his way. Why won't you see it his way? He'll just have to make you.

These two are diametrically opposed. An immovable obstacle and unstoppable object. They would butt heads forever over you, they wouldn't be able to reach a compromise or any sort of agreement. Viktor is dangerous. His evolution is actively killing people, Viktor himself is already long gone. Jayce would sooner die than let him have you and Viktor wouldn't mind killing Jayce and leaving his dead body to rot. Jayce isn't worth saving to him, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't teach it to drink. If Jayce doesn't want his salvation, he isn't worth convincing, he can die painfully in that clumsy mortal vessel and decay on the hill he chose. He can't have you; he doesn't deserve you.

[uhhhj13iguess]

stiles, are you hard right now?

stiles x reader

wc: ~1k

“holy shit — janitors closet, go go go!” stiles shoved you towards the door, stumbling over you to get away from the vault scene going on just in the other room.

both breathless, you squeezed into the dark and cramped room, both of you fumbling to shut the door and turn the lock. despite the commotion happening on the other side, the finally locked door gave you relief, and you took a breath for what felt like the first time in hours.

you turned around, feeing around for the pull chain lighting in the dark. when you found it and yanked, you regretted it immediately. your stomach turned at the sight on the floor in front of you.

before you laid a body, too maimed to recognize. you started the step back, realizing how close you were to the blood pooling on the ground, and tried but failed to suppress a shriek.

“s-stiles!”

internally, stiles wasn’t doing any better at the scene before him, but he kept his composure and moved quickly to cover your mouth before you made anymore noise and gave away your hiding spot as the pack continued to fight off the Alphas.

he pulled you close, taking to keep you as far away as he could from the body. you murmured against his hand so he released it, hands still on you as they rested across your shoulders and kept your back flush against him as he had his own pressed against the door.

“holy shit we should’ve stayed in the car.”

you nodded fervently, the hairs standing on the back of your neck as he whispered against your skin. you realized now just how close you two were. you sat in silence for a minute before you noticed something else as well.

“stiles is that-“

“hm?” he hummed in your ear, looking past you to see what you were referring to.

“are you, i mean — is that what i think…”

you shifted against him and he immediately knew what you were talking about. his eyes shot open and he tried to press himself against the door, trying to create any possible space between the two of you as he could. he would sink into the wall and disappear forever if he could.

“uh, is what? i don’t, i don’t know, or i mean i don’t —“

“stiles —“

“i think uh,” he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will this conversation over. “it’s something else —“

“stiles, are you hard right now?”

surely this had to be worse than his fate out there in the fight.

he let out a huff of air against the back of your neck, and you could feel how tense he was.

“no, i no of course not, i mean,

i, no yeah okay,

yeah, maybe, fuck”

a smirk plastered across your face, a new emotion beginning to overshadow the fear from night you were having.

“there’s a dead body less than a foot away from us, are you serious right now?”

“listen im not proud of it, alright? okay so,

shit, jesus christ im sorry.” he tried desperately to find the door handle behind him, willing to face the violence outside the door if it meant getting the hell out of there.

you didn’t move a muscle, still standing flush against him, the silence in the closet only being met by the sound of stiles’ hand struggling with the door lock.

“is that because of me?”

stiles let out an exasperated breath of air. “jesus (y/n), it’s not from the fucking body, what kind of question is that?”

you held back a chuckle, his remark reminding you of the body you had momentarily forgotten about, and you subconsciously pressed harder into stiles, disgust winning as your primary emotion again at the sight of whoever was in this closet before you.

he couldnt take the silence, nor you getting even closer to him.

“i’m - im sorry y-you’re just really close and im not trying to and —“

“stiles don’t worry about it, we’ll talk about it later. we need to get out of here.”

stiles sighed, worry overtaking him. “okay but talk about it as in you yelling at me and calling me a perv and that you never want to be near me again, or talk about it as in —oh,”

you pressed your hips hard against his, grinding against how hard he was. you smirked at the whine that escaped his lips as you did so.

“i said we can talk about this later, stiles, maybe not in front of someone while their organs hanging out.”

“right yeah let’s, yeah no of course yeah let’s—“

before he could even get his hand on the doorknob, the door swung open, causing him to fall backwards and hit the ground with a groan.

“jesus fuck” stiles collected himself and met the eyes of isaac, not impressed with the inquisitive look on his face.

“we’re done and headed out. nice hiding spot, guys”

you rolled your eyes at him. “yeah whatever, let’s head ou-“

“what’s that smell?”

“huh?”

isaac looked towards stiles with a smirk. “you reek of lust.”

stiles couldn’t move a muscle if he wanted to. there was no way this was happening.

“what the hell happened while we were out here fighting for our lives?”

you swore all of the blood drained from stiles’ face, and you matched isaac’s smirk at the sight.

stiles tried to stutter out a sentence, only to be met with more amusement from issac. he grumbled and shoved him out of his way.

“this is why no one fucking likes you, isaac.”

[pintrestgrl]

loved your bsf!jj drabble!!!!! maybe a little drunken love confession from bsf!jj … and reader thinks its lowkey too good to be true bc she’s been yearning forever… but when they both sober up jj is like !!! i meant wtf i said !

hi i wrote this and then it completely disappeared. sigh. also im sorry if this is bad, i was half asleep bc i spent forever writing it the first time.

also i’m sorry for being inactive yesterday i was so so stressed nd had cramps and was dying… but hi !! hope u like this anon 🥹

note: after writing this, i rlly don’t like it. but i pray u guys do 😞

drunk!bsf!jj x pogue!reader.

“here, drink this.”

you spoke, shoving a glass of water into jj’s chest, sitting down next to him on the couch of the chateau.

he was clearly very wasted, and you were only a slight bit tipsy.

you two had both went out to the boneyard together, the rest of the group out doing god knows what.

he rambled on about not wanting to drink it, before giving in and chugging the clear liquid.

“thank god, you’re annoying when you’re drunk.”

“no, ‘m not. you are.”

“at least i’m not sloppy wasted, unlike somebody.”

“whatever. guilty by association.”

he spoke, slurring his words and laughing drunkenly.

“i’m not associated with you, you wish.”

“you’re my bestfriend, of course you are.”

he spoke, rolling his eyes amused at your denying.

you managed to let out a fake chuckle, silently cringing inside as he called you that. were you really only his ‘friend’ to him?

you wished to be so much more, and he had no idea whatsoever.

you were snapped out of your thoughts by his voice, drunkenly rambling again.

“thanks for the water. that was like, kinda sweet.”

“sweet?” you question, laughing as you furrowed your brows.

“yeah. you’re a sweet girl, i swear.”

you opened your mouth to protest, before being interrupted before you got the chance.

“you’re kinda pretty too.”

you froze at his words.

pretty?

that’s the last word you thought jj would use to describe you; at least to your face.

“what?”

“actually, no. you are pretty. very pretty.”

“jj, you’re drunk.”

“yeah, i am. and you’re pretty. probably beautiful if i could think right now.”

“you don’t mean that.”

“no, i do. i definitely do. i don’t know why you don’t have a boyfriend. or why i’m too dumb to ask you out.”

you were completely baffled at this point, trying to find any truth in his words. and to your surprise, he sounded genuine. drunk, but genuine.

you had liked him forever, and this was the most he’d ever showed any reciprocation.

you were always too scared to say anything, afraid of his rejection and what it would do to your friendship.

so, you opted for having some of him, rather then none at all.

“do you even understand a word you’re saying?”

you spoke, desperately needing to know if he was just drunkenly saying bullshit, or revealing the truth of how he felt.

“yeah, i do. you’re a sweet girl who is too pretty to not have a boyfriend. i mean, god. your face is perfect.”

“jj, shut up. stop.”

“no, you shut up. let me talk. i think i like you.”

“i’d hope so, considering i’m your bestfriend.”

“no, no. like actually like you. like seriously.”

you desperately were trying to deny his words, convincing yourself this was a dream and you needed to wake up.

“you think you like me?”

“no, i actually know i do. like a lot.

“jay, you’re joking.”

he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“can you let me be serious about one thing in my life? i mean, god. i’m not joking. i’m serious. serious about this, about you.”

you could tell he was probably getting agitated the way you kept denying him, the way his mood shifted from amusedly drunk, to pissed off.

“why don’t you sleep the ‘liking me’ off, yeah?”

it took a while, but you convinced him to just go to bed. and as he layed in the next room over, you couldn’t get over his words.

was he trying to get in your pants because he was wasted, or was he serious about liking you?

you knew the thought would keep you up all night if you let it, so you decided to drop it from your brain, drifting off to a light sleep.

next morning

————————————————

you woke up groggily, a slight hangover lingering on your body. once you registered everything, you decided to go to the room next door, consisting of a likely just as hungover jj.

you opened the door, sitting on john b’s his bed, silently shaking him awake.

you knew he’d probably get all mad, but you needed him to help you clear the lingering thought in your head.

he groaned, mumbling a sleepy short sentence.

“what do you need?”

“can we talk?”

“speak or forever hold your peace, stupid.”

you rolled your eyes at his tired insult, reluctantly continuing with your words.

“uh— last night, you told me some stuff. like that you liked me, thought i was pretty and stuff. were you serious?”

he shot up as the words spilled out, immediately sitting against the headboard.

“i told you that?”

“yeah, you did.”

“shit— um, well yeah. kinda. in a way.”

“kinda?”

“no. not kinda.”

he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

he spoke again, sounding embarrassed.

“yes. i did. i meant it. every word. ‘m sorry. i didn’t mean to— jesus, fuck.”

“no, it’s fine, uh— i ‘kinda’ like you too.”

you said, letting the words come out before you thought about their weight.

“kinda? you’re serious?”

“yes, i’m serious. and not kinda, i didn’t mean that. i like you a lot.”

“shut up.”

“i’m serious, i do.”

“well, why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“i don’t know. i was nervous.”

a silence filled the room, not awkward. just waiting for someone to figure out the right thing to say.

finally, jj spoke.

“uh— i’m like really hungover.”

you rolled your eyes at the subject change, finding it just like him to do something like that.

“that’s what your gonna say?”

“no, fuck—sorry. can you just sleep in here with me so i can think straight after?”

“you could’ve just said that.”

“well, i just did, didn’t i?”

“i guess. and yeah, i can. scoot over.”

he awkwardly listened to your demand, not used to the feeling of you knowing about his thoughts of you.

you both fell unconscious soon after, unknowingly shiftinging your bodies closer as you slept.

you slept for another hour or two, limbs tangled and intertwined together as your mind tried to decipher if this was a dream, or if your head was really resting on your bestfriends chest.

[twirlyleafs]

Falling apart, together.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: part 2 to Falling apart, alone. Landos still struggling, but maybe he’s willing to accept the support?

TW: bad mental health

Notes: thank you so much for the response on the first part!! xx

~~~~

That night the house felt impossible quiet. P held you tightly for what felt like forever, her hands running soothingly up and down your back. The tension lingered in the air like an unwelcome guest. Max sat across from where you curled up against his girlfriend, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, face contorted in frustration. No one said anything for what felt like forever, each one of you too deep in your own spiraling minds, until the sound of movement in the kitchen cut through the silence. The following sound of the front door opening had all of you freeze, breaths caught in your throats. No one moved, not until the low rumble of the car engine filled the space. Your stomach sank as you heard the car pull out of the driveway, the sound growing fainter until it disappeared. With it Lando. You didn’t dare look up at P or Max, afraid that the emotions on their faces matched what you were feeling too. Pietra was the first to move, her grip on you loosening as she instead dragged her hand through your curls. Max sat stiffly, hands now clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

”Fuck.” Max muttered, voice thick. ”Fuck I- I should’ve stopped him. Should I have stopped him? From leaving?” At the anguish in his voice you lifted your head, pulling away slowly from Pietra. Max looked at you, searching for an answer, and you carefully shook your head.

“I don’t think that would’ve made it better.”

”If he wanted to leave he would’ve left anyway, maybe only more upset.” Pietra agreed and you nodded again. Max stared at the two of you for a moment before he nodded too. Once again silence settled between you. Eventually the weight of the evening became too much to bear and you forced yourselves to move, even though none of you really wanted. All of you paused in the hallway and Pietra wrapped you up in her arms, ensuring you everything would be okay, before she slipped into hers and Maxs shared bedroom. Max paused before following her, eyes lingering on you. Eventually he reached an arm out, snaking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his chest.

”We’ll get through to him. I promise.” The promise was nice but his voice was heavy with concern and guilt. ”I just, I’m glad I’m not alone this time. I’m glad he has you, too.”

The bed felt cold and almost foreign as you crawled in under the covers. The loneliness was bad on its own already but the faint trace of Landos scent on the pillow had your chest ache. Reaching for your phone you swallowed harshly, desperate to keep the pressing tears at bay to be able to see your screen clearly. You wrote out the text, hesitating for only a moment before hitting send. Seeing the text go through gave you a bit of relief and despite not expecting a response you at least knew you had done everything you could. After a final glance at the text you let out a deep breath, locking your phone before curling up on his pillow.

Be safe. I love you.

The night dragged on and with every passing moment you longed more and more for sleep, even though it felt very far away. You were alert, hearing the sound of the car coming back even before it pulled to a stop. Staying completely still, barely breathing, you listened to Lando opening and closing the front door. You curled tighter into yourself, straining to pick out every sound. He didn’t come upstairs right away, instead there was the faint creak of floorboards and the soft clink of something in the kitchen. Your mind started to race, what was he doing down there? Minutes dragged on, each one feeling longer than the other until suddenly, silence. The absence of sound made your chest tighten. Was he staying down there? You desperately wanted, needed, to see him. See that he was okay. But you were afraid you’d scare him away again if you went looking. Although, the thought of him sitting alone down with only his own mind as company had you want to cry again. Pressing your eyes shut you clutched the duvet. Just as you were starting to convince yourself that he wouldn’t come the softest creak of the bedroom door broke through the room. Your heart jumped, the lump in your throat growing, but you stayed completely still. You felt more than heard his movements, the mattress dipping gently under his weight as he sat down on the edge. Lando stayed there for a moment, sitting in complete silence as if he was preparing himself while you stayed with your back turned towards him. You knew he could tell you were awake but you didn’t dare say anything, involuntarily treating him like a scared animal. Finally he shifted, slipping in beneath the covers with careful and deliberate motions. Everything seemed to move in slowmotion and once again it felt like forever with nothing. Not a sound, not a move. Then suddenly you felt it. The softest touch of his fingertips against the back of your arm, so light you thought you might’ve imagined it if it wasn’t for the way your whole body shivered. The touch was tentative, making it clear he was just as scared as you were, but it was enough. It was an apology without words, a plea for comfort he couldn’t quite get out in words yet. You turned slowly, your gaze meeting his in the darkness. His eyes were red-rimmed, probably matching yours, and you could see the tension in his brows. Jaw. Shoulders. The vulnerability in his posture was unmistakable. Without another thought you reached out, carefully stroking a curl from his face. You could hear his breath hitch and for a few seconds you both stayed frozen until he finally let out a shaky breath. A moment later he was leaning in, his body curling against yours with a desperation that made your chest ache. Lando practically clung to you, and you did your best to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Keeping him safe. Your fingers found their way into his hair, threading through the soft curls, and his grip on you only tightened. As if he was afraid you might pull away.

”I’m not going anywhere baby.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against his skin, and you felt his uneven breath against your neck. He didn’t cry, but the tremor in his exhales told you enough. This wasn’t the strong, playful and confident Lando you were used to. This was the part of him he rarely showed, the part that felt small and lost. The part that desperately wanted help but couldn’t ask for it. As you pressed your lips to his temple you felt him sink deeper into your embrace, body slowly relaxing at least a bit. You didn’t speak more, didn’t need to. Instead you just held him, offering the safety you knew he needed. Offering to remove some of the weight he constantly put on his own shoulders. You didn’t need to fix him, you just needed to promise him he wouldn’t have to face anything alone. Ever.

—————————

You stirred awake to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, pressing your eyes shut tighter. You didn’t want to wake up, not yet, the exhaustion from yesterday still lingering. Instinctively you reached for him, fingers only finding the coldness off the empty mattress and immediately making your stomach sink. He was gone. Turning around you laid there for a while, staring at the empty slot next to you where Lando had been. He had, right? He had come home in the middle of the night, you couldn’t have imagined the way he clung to you. Right? You took your time getting up, dragging yourself through the routines of the morning before slowly making your way downstairs. When you entered the kitchen Pietra and Max were already there. P sat at the kitchen bar, nursing her coffee, while Max leaned against the counter. Both their heads snapped up to look at you, concern and curiosity clear on their faces.

”Did you see him?” Max cut straight to the chase, obviously having heard as Lando came back in the middle of the night too. You nodded softly, accepted the cup he offered you. Staring down into it you sighed.

”Yeah. I didn’t think he would come to bed but he did. He-” you paused, feeling almost bad for spilling your intimate moment with Lando but also knowing Max needed the reassurance. He deserved to know, needed to know Lando was if not doing better at least not pushing you away as harshly. ”He let me hold him. We didn’t talk but-” you trailed off when you met Maxs gaze, a mixture of relief and sadness.

”Good. That’s good.”

”He’s out running now. I met him on his way out.” Pietra explained. You nodded but didn’t respond, the words lodging somewhere in your throat. Despite the nights small victory yesterday’s tension lingered in the air, heavy and almost suffocating, and none of you said anything else after that. Together you filtered out on the back porch, breakfast plates in hand, and settled into the soft lounge furniture. The view was beautiful, sunlight spilling over the hills beyond the garden, the distant sound of birds chirping, the water in the small pond glistening. It all felt somehow muted though. You picked at your food, mostly pushing it around on your plate. P occasionally shot you a glance, her lips pressed into a thin line as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. The second Max was finished with his breakfast he’d wandered down towards the pond, saying something about needing some time alone, and was now sprawled out on the grass letting the sun warm his body. You felt for him. He’d been through this before, although not as bad as now, and you could see the toll it took on him to constantly worry about Lando. He’d been his protector for years, since they were kids, and you couldn’t be more grateful for him always sticking around. You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t noticed the door sliding open, not realizing Lando was joining you until he slowly sank down in the couch opposite you. His hair was damp, probably fresh out of the shower, and curling in soft swirls over his forehead. You could tell he was nervous, uncomfortable, by the way he didn’t relax into the chair like he normally would. Instead his posture was stiff and uncertain as his eyes flickered between you and Pietra. P watched him for a moment before she stood.

”I’ll go and keep Max company.” Neither you nor Lando answered but you saw the way he tried to offer her a grateful smile when she passed him. P paused for just a second, letting her hand land on his shoulder before she disappeared down into the garden. The gesture was light, quick, but meaningful and you felt your heart swell at the sight. The warm feeling in your chest was brief, quickly replaced by a sense of worry again when Lando slowly met your gaze across the table. He shifted in his seat, fingers restlessly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. You didn’t push him. Finally he exhaled, voice quiet but clear as he spoke.

”I’m sorry.” You swallowed hard, letting the words settle between you before speaking up. Your own voice was soft, careful as not to frighten him.

”Do you want to talk about it?” He hesitated, fingers tightening around the fabric of his shorts as his eyes flickered away from your face for a moment. His jaw clenched and you almost feared he might retreat entirely, shutting down the conversation before it even began, but then he nodded.

”I don’t want to,” he admitted reluctantly. ”But I know I probably should.” You didn’t answer, giving him space to find his own words. He stared down at the coffee table for a moment, gaze distant, before he carefully began to speak again. ”It’s hard to explain, I guess. I feel like there’s this…pressure, all the time. Like I can’t stop, can’t slow down. If I do…” he trailed off, shaking his head is if he regretted his words. You shifted in your chair, letting your feet drop down on the floor so you could lean forward. Lando met your gaze again and you offered an encouraging nod. With a deep breath he continued. ”It’s, I guess it feels like I’m constantly running on a treadmill and no matter how fast I go it’s never enough. There’s always more to prove, more people to please, more to do. If I stop…” his voice cracked and he swallowed hard. ”If I stop everything will fall apart.” Your heart ached at the rawness of his confession, of the pain and fear on his face.

”You feel like you’re carrying everything on your own?” You offered gently, hoping to help him untangle his thoughts. Lando nodded slowly before shaking his head.

”Yeah, and I know that’s stupid because I know I have people…both at work and, you know. I have Max, mom and dad, you.” His voice softened at the last word, letting it linger for a moment. ”I know that but I can’t shake this feeling that I’m falling and that you can’t…” Once again he trailed of and you could tell he felt guilty, guilty for letting all off this spill. With a deep breath you pushed yourself up on your feet, Landos head immediately snapping up to watch you. For a second he looked scared, probably because he thought you were leaving, but then his face softened when you rounded the table to where he sat.

”Can I?” You asked quietly, nodding next to him in the couch. He nodded, trailing you as you sank down. When you reached out to lay a hand on his knee he quickly wrapped his own around it, squeezing it gently. Flipping your hand you let your fingers intertwine with his. ”Lando.” you began softly, watching him as he watched your hands. ”You don’t have to do this alone. I know it feels like everything is on you, and a lot is, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, not to fix anything but to help you deal with it. Especially when it gets too much.” Lando let out a shaky breath, shoulders slumping.

”I don’t know how to let go. I don’t- I’m not good at asking for help. And I don’t want to bring you down with this stuff, it’s-”

”Lando that’s where you’re thinking wrong. You don’t bring me down, or any of us. We want to help, to support you. That’s what you do with people you love, you help each other and you’re there for each other.” Finally he lifted his head, eyes glassy and filled with a vulnerability you wished he showed more often.

”I just don’t know how.” His voice was thick with emotion.

”That’s okay. You’re trying, and that’s more than enough for now. One step at a time.” You leaned closer to him, lifting your free hand to stroke some curls away from his forehead, fingers trailing down his cheek. Lando stared at you for a while and you could see the turmoil behind his eyes, fear and anxiety mixing with the urge to let you in. Finally you saw something shift, his face softened and he forced himself to nod slowly. It was small, but it felt monumental. A few moments later Lando sat leaned back in the couch, arms wrapped around your frame as you curled up against his chest. The silence settled around you again but it wasn’t suffocating like earlier. Now it felt hopeful, like some sort of new start. Landos fingers found your arm, tracing soft, aimless patterns. For him the touch was grounding, a way to anchor himself even when his thoughts were scattered. For you it was a constant reminder that he was still here, not completely shutting you out. When you finally spoke your voice was soft, almost tentative, but with a firmness born out of both love and concern.

”You know Max isn’t angry with you.” His fingers seized their movements and you heart ached when you heard him inhale sharply. Tilting your head slightly you could see his jaw tensing, but he didn’t respond. ”But I still think you owe him an apology. Not for being upset but…” you trailed off as Lando began to nod.

”For what I said. I know.” He exhaled, shifting to sit straighter while also not pulling away completely. His voice was low and strained, filled to the brim with regret. ”I’ve been feeling awful about it since it happened. I didn’t- I didn’t mean it. The words just came out before I could stop them and I- fuck.”

”I know you didn’t mean it. So does Max. But it still hurt him.” When Lando only nodded, his arms slipping from you so he could lean forward with his elbows on his knees, you sighed softly. Leaning forward you gently rested your hand on his back and when he didn’t pull away you moved to lean your cheek against it too. ”It’s not about blaming yourself Lando, it’s just about making it right. Max loves you, he wants to be there for you, you just have to meet him halfway. Like you’re trying with me.” He stayed quiet for a moment but didn’t pull away as your hand traced patterns along his back. Finally he spoke, still shaky but with more determination.

”Okay. Yeah.” For a while he stayed still, collecting his thoughts, and then with a deep breath he stood. You let him go, watching as he trudged down across the garden toward where Max was stretched out on a towel. Your eyes stayed fixed on them as Lando stopped by Max, saying something you couldn’t hear, shoulders hunched in vulnerability as Max sat up. A beat later Max nodded and got to his feet, the two of them trudging further down the lawn towards the small pond together. You barely noticed P come and sit down next to you, only reacting when she spoke up.

”What’s going on?”

”Lando is apologizing.” She just hummed, shuffling closer to you until your arms were touching. Then you just sat there, observing the two men by the pond. Lando’s head was slightly bowed, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, while Max stood with his arms crossed, listening intently. The conversation stretched on, and you could see the emotions flowing between them, the occasional nods, the way Max shifted his weight thoughtfully. Then, sudden enough for you to inhale sharply, Max reached out to grasp Lando’s shoulder firmly. A moment later Max pulled him into a hug and you thought you might start crying again as you watched Lando cling to his best friend. You tore your gaze away from them when you heard P sniff beside you, turning to look at her.

”They’ll be okay. We all will be.” She offered softly and for the first time in a while you felt relief flood your body. Nodding you felt your lips curl into the first real smile since before all of this.

”Yeah. We will.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Telling Sukuna you're pregnant after not seeing him for 500 years

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: For more than 1.500 years, you found yourself in a love and hate relationship with none other than Ryomen Sukuna. But when he began to ignore you for more than 500 years, you decide to bind him to you forever - with the help of a pregnancy that shouldn't be possible...

Warnings: (y/n) is a real femme fatale aka bad bitch in this, mentions of smut, language language language, mentions of abuse towards Sukuna, mentions of pregnancy

Click here for Part ll

Your heels click against the floor casually as you swing your hips from side to side, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Finally. The sensation of his presence almost swallowed you whole just like it always did. Oh, how long you’ve waited for this damn moment, how you longed for him to finally appear again. Good for you that that brat decided to swallow your former lover back then.

Well, lover might be the wrong word to describe your relationship. Do you like Ryomen Sukuna? No, absolutely not. Just the thought of being around him sends your eyes into your skull immediately. Do you hate him?

“Can you shut up already? I’m…ah!”

“Stop talking, asshole”, you moaned against his parted lips, the sensation of him mercilessly thrusting into you almost swallowing you whole.

“You’re the worst woman I’ve ever met”, he hissed through gritted teeth, picking up his pace just the way you like it.

“I hate you”, you cried on top of your lungs while digging your nails into his shoulders to pull him even closer, to feel him even better.

You snort. Well, let’s just stay your relationship is rather complicated. But good for you, you took matters into your own hands.

“What do you think you’re doing there, huh?”, you casually question, bored eyes resting on that curse that kneels in front of the pink-haired boy.

“And who are you?”

Oh, it seems like this thing is a brave one. By the look of it and how he carries himself, he might be a special grade curse, he could be quite strong. But definitely not strong enough to even talk to you. You shake your head in amusement, fingers playing with a strand of hair.

“None of your business. I’m here to talk to Sukuna about something important, so get out the way before I drown you.”

“Get in line then. I am the one who will bring him back to life. He needs to assist us.”

“You must feel so brave and strong, huh? But still, you’re too dumb to realize who’s standing in front of you. Let me say it one last time, just because I’m in a good mood today: Get.out.my.way.”

You caress your belly mindlessly. Oh, you really do have some excited news. His face will be priceless when he hears your words. It’s his fault, after all. Who does he think he is to silently disappear for more than 500 years, leaving you alone without even saying goodbye? Looks like Sukuna is sick of you. Well, you’ll definitely bind him to you for the rest of your damned life. Maybe you should film it. What are those things called? Smartphones? Damn, you’re definitely too old for that dumb shit of those stupid humans.

“I’d get out of her way if I was you, curse. Or even better, go back where you came from and spare me with your bullshit, (y/n).”

That dark and unpromising voice, that annoyed undertone. Your eyes widen in nothing but excitement as well as your grin, unnecessary heart almost beating out of your chest. Finally, after all those years.

He’s back.

Ryomen Sukuna is finally back.

“I’m not going anywhere. There’s something very important we have to talk about”, you reply.

Hungrily, you take in his sight. He really does look different in that boy’s body. No wonder, after all he’s still a minor. You scrunch your nose, just the thought of getting close to this shell of a man…

Gross.

“Why are you looking at me like that, huh? Don’t you have somewhere to be, (y/n)?”

He can’t deny it, how desperately he has to supress a sly grin by just one look at you. How do you manage to always look this hot, to make his mind wander? Sukuna hates you with every fiber of his being, how you seem to always be two steps ahead of him. Him, the king of curses. Him, the one who should be in control. Him, who is technically stronger, older and more experienced than you. But oh, you do it so well while wearing that black dress and your pair of heels, the mischievous look on your face simply taking his breath away.

“Don’t worry about me pretty boy, I’m exactly where I should be”, you purr.

Elegantly, you bend down towards him, almost revealing your panties in the process. Your hand glides over his firm chest and wraps around his neck, putting pressure on his windpipe ever so gently.

“Would y’all mind to just leave? We need a little more privacy.”

Nobody dares to move, your sheer presence stopping both girls and Jogo in their tracks. You might not be as powerful as Sukuna, but the way you act alone is enough to tell them you are no one to be messed with.

And the stinging fact that the king of curses literally allows you to choke him.

“W-we…We need to talk to Sukuna”, a female voice behind you speaks out.

Urgh, is a simple no not enough? You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, making Sukuna almost shiver in excitement of what comes next.

“Listen, I tried to be nice, but you brats are testing me. I don’t have time for stupid shit like that, okay?”

One snap. One little innocent movement of your finger is enough to slice both of their heads off in the split of a second, sparing the curse standing behind you only by inches.

“If you don’t want to die right here and now, leave before I’m completely losing it, curse.”

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Did something upset you?”

Your attention goes back to the force of a man in front of you, who lifts himself off the ground effortlessly.

“Well, I was pretty mad when I found out that you found a vessel and didn’t care enough to let me know. After all, I haven’t seen you in…how many years? 500, maybe?”

“Maybe you should leave, then. Because I didn’t miss you a single bit”, Sukuna suggests innocently.

Your bodies are so close to each other that he can’t ignore the heat radiating from your frame anymore. Why do you have to look so enticing in your short black dress? And what is that look on your face?

“Ouch, I’m here because I have something very important to tell you-“

“Get in line then, I don’t have time for your shit right now-“

Your nerves tingle in excitement when you pin him against the destroyed wall behind him.

This. This is the moment you worked you hard for, the moment you’ve been waiting for since he disappeared into darkness.

“I’m pregnant, Sukuna.”

The smile on his face disappears in an instant, you watch in sheer amusement as he turns pale as snow. This is too good to be true, absolutely priceless.

“So you fucked with somebody else, huh?”

“Both you and I know that it’s not possible for a simple human or curse to impregnate a woman like me.”

Oh, he knows damn well that you’re right. Frantically, he pushes his large hand against your stomach, searching for a sign of life. You have to be joking. He was gone for ages. And even though he wasn’t able to not get a taste of you, to not sink into your inviting flesh from time to time, there simply is no possibility, it can’t be true…

His soul leaves his body, breath getting stuck in his throat.

There it is, a tiny movement, a minor heartbeat.

You are indeed pregnant.

“There is no way”, he breathes out.

“Ask be how I did it.”

Your face is only inches away from his, maniac grin laughing down at him. You’ve had this plan in your mind for a long time. After he slipped through your fingers and didn’t return for literal years, you needed a plan. A plan to force him to stay by your side, a plan to bind him to you forever.

Ryomen Sukuna will always be yours. And you made sure of that.

“To be honest, it wasn’t hard to get what I needed for it. You aren’t especially careful when it comes to-“

“It shouldn’t even be possible”, he interrupts you breathlessly.

“You…You little bitch.”

You laugh at him hysterically as he throws you against the wall and chokes you until you see stars.

“Congrats, dear Sukuna. I’m sure you’ll be the best dad ever”, you choke out while sticking out your tongue.  

“And you’ll stay with me until the end of time.”

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