#and yet i continued to see her for several months

[cyarikaplease]

oral fixation

summary: din eats pussy for the first time.

Din has a little problem, a hyper fixation you might say. He wants to eat you out so bad. It’s a deep, primal urge inside him. But being desperate to eat you out isn’t necessarily a problem, though. The problem is that he’s never done it before. He’s worried he’ll be bad at it. He’s worried you’ll hate it and never want him to do it again. That thought breaks his heart. He loves you more than anything else in the galaxy. All he wants to do is pleasure you. 

So what does every anxious, inexperienced man turn to at a time like this? He turns to porn. 

When you first got together, several many months ago, you brought a holo-pad onto the Crest. Din thought it was mainly for reading or mapping out a course for traveling. But what he didn’t realize is that you can watch videos on it, spicy videos even. You’ve brought up watching porn together as a method of foreplay, which he enjoyed, but he’s never watched them by himself.

Until now. 

You’re at the market on Nevarro. The Razor Crest is parked on the outskirts of town. Din is completely alone and he’s going to take advantage of that. He picks up the holo-pad and browses through the database of videos. He stops scrolling at a particular one titled, “Naboo Cutie Gets Her Flower Licked by a Mandalorian Daddy”. 

…Flower?

But the word “Mandalorian” in the title also caught his eye. He glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re not back yet before he clicks on the video. 

It looks like it was filmed somewhere on Naboo, in a random field. The woman is lying down on a blanket in the grass. It’s a sunny day out, her skin shiny and slick with some sort of body oil. The man kneels on the blanket, situating himself by her feet. He’s wearing Mandalorian armor that’s most likely fake. He takes off his helmet and hovers over her face. 

“Let daddy see your flower, princess,” he says.

That sentence sounds sort of awkward to Din but the woman seems to like it, whimpering in response. He makes a mental note of the dirty talk and continues watching. 

The man spreads her legs apart and crouches down so he’s face to face with the woman’s cunt. The camera zooms in on what’s going on and Din is thankful for that. He’s watching this to learn, not for his own pleasure. The man licks her entrance, running his tongue slowly up towards her clit. The woman lets out a long moan, most likely extremely exaggerated. But it doesn’t take long for the man to bury his face in her cunt, his nose grinding against her clit. The man slides two fingers inside her, driving the woman insane. She clearly likes it because soon enough, Din’s bunk is filled with the lewd noises of the woman’s moans and screams, and the absurd slurping noises the man makes. 

…It’s a little much for Din but eventually, he’s tuning out the noises and fantasizing about doing this to you. He’s so into his fantasy that he doesn’t notice you entering the Crest and standing behind him until you place a hand on his shoulder and ask, “What are you watching?”

He startles a bit, his body jolting a little before pausing the video. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” you chuckle.

“It’s okay…” he says, still feeling embarrassed.

“So, what are you watching?”

“Uhh…” He doesn’t finish, instead just handing you the holo-pad so you can see for yourself. 

You take it in your hands and unpause the video. Your eyes widen at what’s happening on the screen. 

“I see. What were you watching this for?”

“I want… I want to do that.”

“Really?” you ask, your lips curling into a suggestive smirk.

“Yes. I want. So badly,” he says, his strained horniness prominent in his voice. 

“Why?”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You’re sweet,” you say, turning off the holo-pad and setting it on the shelf behind you, “Let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you say, starting to undress. 

You toss your clothes into a small pile on the floor and kick off your shoes. Din moves so you can lie down on the bunk. He takes off his helmet to reveal his face, his eyes filled with lust and admiration. His face is still a sight you’re getting used to, always a treat. He wastes no time pressing his lips against your neck, licking and tugging at the soft skin with his teeth. He moves downward, trailing kisses along your collarbone before getting to your breasts. He takes one in his hand and runs his tongue along the other. He takes your nipple in his mouth, moaning as he sucks on it. He only recently took off his helmet in front of you. And ever since then whenever you’re intimate, he has the urge to christen your skin with his mouth in whatever way he can. He’s developed a sort of oral fixation, obsessed with kissing, licking, biting you, marking you up in places only he can see. 

He moves his mouth to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment before moving down your tummy and abdomen. He leaves goosebumps on your skin in the wake of his mouth, finally arriving at your groin. He takes a deep breath once he’s staring directly at your cunt. And that’s when he says, “Daddy’s gonna lick your flower, princess.”

You can’t help but laugh, just a little.

“What?”

“Flower?”

“Is that what I should call it?”

“Just call it what it is. Like pussy or cunt.”

“Okay,” he says shakily before licking a slow stripe up your cunt.

You shiver in response, prompting him to say, “Mmm, you like when daddy eats your pussy?”

“Much better. Ah!” you say, your words getting cut off by a moan he licks your cunt again. 

He licks up and down your entrance before moving to your clit, swirling his tongue around it. For it being his first time doing this, he’s not doing a bad job. The movement of his tongue circles faster and faster around your clit. 

But then he stops for a second much to your dismay. He picks up his head off the cot and tugs off his glove, tossing it on the floor. He brings two fingers to his mouth, moistening them and inserting one inside you slowly. He returns his mouth to your clit and curls his finger against your walls. It feels so good, but you need more. 

“More,” you moan softly. He hums against your cunt, sending a vibration up your core before he adds a second finger. He presses them against your g-spot and sucks on your clit simultaneously, a perfect combination of the two sensations. 

You feel yourself arrive at the edge and you moan out “Din, I’m gonna cum.”

He does falter the flow of his movements, instead picking up the pace. You cum against his face, your release soaking his hand and his chin. Your back arches up off the cot and your limbs are filled with waves of pleasure. 

But once you’re done coming you’re back down on the cot. Din laps up your release, savoring your test before pulling away and looking up at you, his facial hair soaked. 

“That was your first time doing that?” you breathe out, your voice still sort of high-pitched from your orgasm. 

“First time,” he affirms.

“Couldn’t tell,” you sigh. But then you quickly add, “Aside from the dirty talk.”

Can’t resist the opportunity to make fun of him, just a little bit. 

“I’ll get better at that, cyar’ika,” he promises.

“Your turn now?” you ask, moving to sit upright.

But instead, he places a hand on your tummy and gently pushes you back down. 

“Actually, I think I want to stay down here longer… That okay with you?” he says, followed by another lap at your cunt.

“Fine with me,” you sigh. 

[hawkelf]

Shout out to the therapist who, after I told her I had religious trauma and came from a devout Christian background, just straight up asked me if I knew I grew up in a cult. Like it was a meaningful question at that point. No other follow up. We had just met.

Like.

Respectfully.

Log off the internet.

[a-shade-of-blue]

Urgent: Help Mahmoud's 17 Family Members Escape from Frequent Bombings!

Hi everyone. Mahmoud (@mahmoudfamily1) is trying to raise fund to evacuate 17 members of his family (including no fewer than 5 children!), and he has asked me to share his story.

Mahmoud found out the bombing of her sister Tasnim’s husband’s house, the house his entire family was staying at, on the news. He could not contact his family for 3 days after that. He knew that several people had died and several more injured, but he did not know whom among his family survived, and who didn’t.

When he finally managed to reach them, he found out that a close relative, named Alaa, had been killed, along with her children: Ahmed and baby Iman who was not even one month old yet. Alaa was a beloved member of their family. She was optimistic and tried hard to cheer everyone else up. For the longest time, Alaa believed that the world would not turn away from their suffering and the war would end soon. But an airstrike took her and her children’s lives, the bombing continued, and the world remains indifferent.

Mahmoud’s sister Tasnim, was severely injured in the bombing. The attack happened while the family was sleeping, and Tasnim woke up to find her body injured and broken, bleeding heavily with bones sticking out of her leg. She found her 6-month-old daughter under the rubble, severely injured, but thankfully still alive. Tasnim's leg was fractured in multiple places, so severely injured that they all thought it had to be amputated. Tasnim’s husband and her 6-month-old daughter, her father-in-law, her brothers-in-law and Alaa’s husband were all severely injured by the bombing.

A few days later, Mahmoud’s family narrowly survived a second bombing on the street, as the people behind them, too slow to escape from the attack, were killed. They hid in their car, watching the plane flying above dropping bombs, praying that it would not target their car.

Given Tasnim and her 6-month-old daughter’s severe injuries, the family used a lot of money and exhausted all means to get them out of Gaza to receive the essential medical treatment they require. While Tasnim and her youngest daughter managed to evacuate, the rest of Mahmoud’s 17 family members, including Tasnim’s 2-year-old daughter who sustained first degree burns from the bombing, are still trapped in Gaza.

Mahmoud’s 17 family members (including no fewer than 5 children!) risk being killed and injured from the frequent airstrikes every day. They have narrowly escaped death no fewer than 5 times. On 31 August, the IOF dropped bombs on the tent next to theirs, killing 9 young men and women, and Mahmoud’s family woke up to their broken bodies.

Look at the photos Mahmoud sent me. These children, they are all trapped in Gaza where bombs may fall on them anytime. Please do not look away. Please help Mahmoud’s 17 family members reach safety!!

Mahmoud’s campaign is vetted by association. Mahmoud is @hazempalestine's friend, see post here for proof. @hazempalestine is vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and is listed as #281 on the verified fundraiser list by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi.

I’ve been trying to boost Hazem’s campaign, but we are both worried about Mahmoud’s campaign as donations are coming in really slowly for him. I hope you will support Mahmoud’s campaign and help him evacuate his 17 family members as well!

Extremely Low Funds! As of 3 September, Only $147 CAD raised of $80,000 goal! Last donation was 19 hours ago!!!

Please follow Mahmoud on @mahmoudfamily1 to get updates on his family's situation! And also, please, please, share/reblog, and donate if you can! Every donation helps!!

[simjaexy]

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 | 𝙔.𝙅.

Pairing ⇀ Patient! Yang Jungwon x Patient! (F) Reader

Synopsis ⇀ After a traumatic event leaves you struggling to cope, you get admitted to a mental hospital in hopes of finding peace and healing. Feeling lost and overwhelmed on your arrival, you meet Jungwon, a fellow patient with his own burdens and a mysterious past. Even though Jungwon is a bit hot headed and tend to come off as rude and smart to people, you find solace in Jungwon company. What happens when you and Jungwon go through struggles together? Will he open up to you to his mysterious past? Or will he shut himself out, just like he did with everyone else?

Genre ⇀ ANGST, Fluff (If you squint), Eventual Smut

Warning ⇀ Implied character deaths, Car accident, Family issues (Jungwon side), Crying, Smoking, Depression, Mis-Communication, Fighting (Reader gets hit once in one), Shots, Arguments, No comfort, Jungwon is mean to Reader a lot, Jungwon has anger issues, Dom! Jungwon x Sub! Reader, Making out, Eating out, Overstimulation, No protection, have a feeling I missed some so lmk!

W.c ⇀ 15.7k

A/n ⇀ Hey guys! Sorry for being inactive lately, studies have been coming at me left and right and I didn’t have time to make any fics. :( So why not make a depressing fic just because. 😼 Reminder everything in this fic is fake and not real! Sunghoon fic of Hidden Desires is almost done so please stay tune for that! I know a lot have been waiting for that so I apologize for the wait! Also, if you would like to be added to the perm taglist click here! Not proofread!

Masterlist here

You remember clearly how the snow flew ever so softly against the window. Your eyes full of innocence and curiosity. Your mom looked back and gave you a soft smile. You returned it as she looked away from you.

You continued watching the snow fall when all of a sudden you hear the sound of screeching tires and the crunch of metal against metal filled the air as the your car collided with another vehicle.

Time seemed to slow down, and in those agonizing moments, you could feel every jolt and impact. The world spun around you, and then, everything went black.

Months had passed since that fateful night, but the memory of the crash haunted you every waking moment. You sat in a dimly lit therapist's office, your hands trembling as you recounted the events leading up to the accident. Your therapist, Dr. Mitchell, listened intently, a look of concern etched on his face.

“I just can't get it out of my head," You said, your voice barely above a whisper, "Every time I close my eyes, I see it happening all over again."

Dr. Mitchell nodded sympathetically, "You've been through a traumatic experience, and it's completely understandable that you're struggling. But I think it's time we consider a different approach to your treatment."

You looked up, confusion and apprehension mingling in you eyes, "What do you mean?"

“I believe that a more intensive form of therapy might be beneficial for you," Dr. Mitchell explained gently, "There's a mental health facility that specializes in helping individuals who have experienced severe trauma. I think it could be a good fit for you."

Your heart raced at the thought of being admitted to a mental hospital. The idea was daunting, since you’ve never been to one before, but you knew that you couldn't go on living like this. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the constant anxiety—it was all too much to bear.

“Okay," You said finally, your voice steady despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "I'll do it."

The rain poured heavily as you stepped out of the car, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and uncertainty. The imposing building of the mental hospital loomed ahead, its grey facade blending with the stormy sky. You took a deep breath, clutching your bag tightly, and made your way to the entrance.

As you entered, the sterile smell of disinfectant filled the air. A kind-looking woman approached you, her smile warm yet professional.

"Welcome," She said softly. "I'm Dr. Kim, the head of this facility. I'll be escorting you to your room."

You nodded, feeling a slight sense of relief at her reassuring demeanor. She led you through the winding corridors, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls. The hospital seemed quiet, almost eerily so, with only the occasional murmur of voices or the distant sound of a door closing.

Just as you were beginning to feel a sense of calm, a commotion erupted from a nearby hallway. Raised voices and the sound of a struggle reached your ears. Dr. Kim's expression tightened, and she quickened her pace, urging you to follow closely.

As you turned the corner, you saw them – two boys in the midst of a heated fight.

One of them, with strikingly intense eyes and a determined expression, was on top of another boy. He was grappling the another boy, their movements a blur of fists and fury. The sight was shocking, a stark contrast to the otherwise serene environment.

“Jungwon, stop!" Dr. Kim's voice cut through the chaos, authoritative and firm. The boys hesitated, their breathing heavy, but the fight didn't completely cease.

You stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Jungwon's eyes flickered towards you for a brief moment, and something in his gaze made your heart ache. There was pain there, and anger, but also a flicker of something else – a plea for help, perhaps.

Dr. Kim stepped between them, her presence commanding, "This is not the place for this," She said sternly, "Both of you, to your rooms. Now."

Reluctantly, the boys separated, still glaring at each other. Jungwon's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he turned and walked away, his shoulders tense.

Dr. Kim sighed, turning back to you with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Sometimes, emotions run high here. Let's continue to your room."

You nodded, still shaken by the encounter. As you followed Dr. Kim, you couldn't help but glance back towards the hallway where Jungwon had disappeared, a sense of unease settling in your chest. This place was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of healing – but it seemed there were deeper wounds here than you had anticipated.

You followed Dr. Kim down the sterile, white-walled corridor of the mental hospital. The soft click of her heels echoed in the quiet hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your mind. She opened the door and stepped aside, allowing you to enter first.

“This will be your room for the duration of your stay,” She said softly, her voice filled with a calm reassurance, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask the staff.”

You nodded, offering a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Dr. Kim.”

She gave you one last encouraging look before leaving, the door closing with a soft click behind her. You stood there for a moment, taking in the room. It was simple, yet comforting in its own way.

A single bed with crisp white sheets, a small wooden desk, and a chair. The window overlooked a garden, the trees swaying gently in the breeze.

You walked over to the bed and set down your suitcase. As you began to unpack, the memories of the crash started to flood back. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the mundane task of organizing your belongings. But the images were relentless.

You could still hear the screeching of tires, the shattering of glass, and the deafening silence that followed. You remembered the fear, the panic, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness. Your hands trembled as you folded your clothes, the fabric slipping through your fingers.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t let the memories consume you. Not now. Not when you were trying to heal. You placed your clothes in the small dresser, each movement deliberate and slow, as if grounding yourself in the present.

Once everything was unpacked, you sat on the edge of the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. You lay down, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your skin. As you closed your eyes, the memories of the crash played out behind your eyelids like a haunting movie reel.

You remembered the faces of your parents, the ones who were no longer with you. The pain was sharp, cutting through the fog of your mind. You took another deep breath, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. Slowly, the memories began to fade, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your breathing.

Sleep began to creep in, a gentle pull that you didn’t resist. As you drifted off, you silently promised yourself that you would get through this. One day at a time. You would find a way to heal, to move forward, even if it meant facing the painful memories head-on.

In the quiet of your room, you finally found a moment of peace. The world outside continued to turn, but for now, you allowed yourself to rest, finding solace in the promise of a new beginning.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you got ready for your first group therapy session. You were surprised when a nurse woke you up from your sleep already seeing it was the next day. You guessed the flashbacks really got to you.

The events of the previous day still lingered in your mind, especially the sight of Jungwon fighting in the hallway. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease. Today was a new day, and you were determined to make the most of it.

You left your room and made your way down the corridor, the soft hum of the hospital’s air conditioning filling the silence. As you walked past someone room, you heard raised voices. Curiosity got the better of you, and you slowed your pace, peeking inside.

Jungwon was there, his face flushed with anger as he argued with a nurse, "I told you, I don’t need any help!" he snapped, his voice sharp and filled with frustration. The nurse tried to calm him, but Jungwon’s agitation only seemed to grow.

Feeling a pang of sympathy and a bit of fear, you quickly walked away, not wanting to be seen. The intensity of his emotions was palpable, and it left you feeling unsettled.

You continued down the hallway and finally reached the room where the group therapy session was being held.

As you entered, you were greeted by a circle of chairs, each occupied by someone who, like you, was here to find a way through their struggles. The therapist, a gentle-looking woman named Dr. Lee, welcomed you with a warm smile, "Come in, take a seat," she said kindly.

You sat down, trying to focus on the session. The group began to share their stories, each person’s vulnerability and courage inspiring in its own way. But your mind kept drifting back to Jungwon, wondering what had pushed him to such anger.

During a break, you overheard two doctors talking near the doorway, "Did you hear about Jungwon?" one of them said. "He’s not going to be in the group sessions today."

“Again? Why?" the other doctor asked, sounding surprised.

“Apparently, his behavior has been too disruptive. They think it’s best that he stays in his room." the first doctor replied.

You felt a mix of emotions – relief that you wouldn’t have to witness another outburst, but also sadness for Jungwon. It was clear he was struggling deeply, and it pained you to think of him being isolated even further.

When the session resumed, you tried to focus on the stories being shared, drawing strength from the collective resilience of the group. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but hope that Jungwon would find the help he needed, even if it wasn’t here in the group.

As the session ended, you left the room feeling a bit lighter, the support of the group giving you a sense of hope. But as you walked back to your room, you couldn’t shake the image of Jungwon’s angry face, and you silently wished him strength and healing in whatever path lay ahead for him.

After spending the morning in your room after two group sessions, it was time for lunch. You made your way down the corridor, the scent of food growing stronger with each step. The cafeteria was bustling with patients and staff, the noise a stark contrast to the quiet of your room.

You grabbed a tray and moved through the line, picking out a sandwich, some fruit, and a drink. As you turned to find a place to sit, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. The room was filled with people, but you felt alone, unsure where you belonged.

You scanned the room, looking for an empty seat. Just as you were about to settle at an isolated table in the corner, a guy approached you. He had a sly grin on his face, his eyes glinting with something that made you uneasy.

“Hey there,” he said, stepping closer, “Why don’t you sit with me?”

You hesitated, clutching your tray a little tighter. Before you could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. Your heart raced, a sense of panic rising within you.

Suddenly, another voice cut through the tension, “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there, his expression firm and serious. The guy stepped back, his grin fading as he realized he was outmatched.

“Mind your own business,” the guy muttered, but he didn’t push further. With a final glare, he walked away, leaving you and Jungwon standing there.

You turned towards Jungwon, you opened your mouth, ready to say a thank you, but Jungwon cut you off.

Jungwon turned to you, his eyes cold, “Seriously, can’t you handle anything on your own? If it weren’t for me saying something that guy probably would’ve assaulted you.” He snapped, “It’s like you were looking for trouble.”

His words stung, and before you could respond, he walked away, leaving you standing there with your tray. You felt a mix of gratitude and hurt, unsure how to process his sudden change in demeanor.

You found an empty table and sat down, the weight of the interaction pressing on your mind. As you ate, you couldn’t help but replay the scene in your head, wondering why Jungwon had been so harsh after helping you.

By the time you returned to your room, the encounter with Jungwon still lingered in your thoughts. The small spark of hope you had felt earlier was dimmed, replaced by confusion and a hint of sadness. Maybe, just maybe, this place wasn’t as comforting as you had hoped.

The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the hospital grounds. After a long day of therapy sessions and group activities, you decided to take a walk in the garden. The fresh air and the gentle rustling of leaves always brought you a sense of calm, a brief escape from the sterile walls of the hospital.

As you wandered through the garden, you noticed a figure sitting on a bench tucked away in a quiet corner. It was Jungwon. He seemed at peace, his eyes closed and a faint thin line playing on his lips. You paused, not wanting to disturb his moment of tranquility. There was something captivating about the way he looked, so different from his usual guarded demeanor.

You stood there for a while, watching him from a distance. The way the soft light highlighted his features made him seem almost ethereal. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice when his eyes fluttered open and landed on you.

“What are you staring at?” Jungwon’s voice cut through the silence, harsh and unexpected.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in tone, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what?” He interrupted, standing up and closing the distance between you, “Spy on me? Invade my space?”

“No, I just...” You struggled to find the right words, confusion and hurt mixing in your chest, “I was just walking and saw you. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed, his expression hard, “You think just because we’re in the same place, you have the right to watch me like some kind of freak show?”

His words stung, each one like a sharp jab to your heart, “I didn’t mean it like that,” you said softly, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

For a moment, Jungwon’s face softened, but then he turned away, his shoulders tense, “Just... stay away from me,” He muttered before walking off, leaving you standing there in the fading light.

You watched him go, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. The peaceful moment you had witnessed was now overshadowed by his harsh words. You couldn’t understand why he had lashed out at you, why he seemed so angry when all you had done was admire the serenity he had found.

As you continued your walk, the garden no longer felt like a sanctuary. The beauty of the flowers and the gentle breeze couldn’t chase away the confusion and sadness that Jungwon’s words had left behind. You wondered if you would ever understand him, if there was more to his anger than what he had shown.

The next morning, you wake up with a sense of dread lingering from the previous evening's encounter with Jungwon. After getting ready, you head to the group therapy session, hoping to find some solace among others who understand your struggles.

As you enter the room, your eyes surprisingly immediately land on Jungwon. He's sitting in one of the seats, his expression unreadable. You hesitate for a moment, considering whether to sit next to him or not. The memory of his harsh words still stings, so you decide to sit far away, choosing a seat on the opposite side of the room.

The session begins, and Dr. Lee starts by asking everyone to share their experiences. As the circle progresses, you feel a knot forming in your stomach. When it’s your turn, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“I’m here because of a car crash,” You begin, your voice trembling slightly, “It happened a few months ago. My parents... they didn’t make it. I was the only one who survived.”

The room is silent, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. You notice Jungwon watching you intently, his eyes softening as you continue.

“I’ve been struggling with survivor’s guilt,” You admit, tears welling up in your eyes, “Every day feels like a battle, and sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.”

Dr. Lee nods empathetically, offering you a comforting smile, “Thank you for sharing that. It takes a lot of courage to open up about such a painful experience.”

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. As the therapist moves on to Jungwon, you can’t help but glance in his direction. He’s staring at the floor, his hands clenched into fists.

“Jungwon, would you like to share why you’re here?” Dr. Lee asks gently.

For a moment, there’s only silence. Jungwon’s jaw tightens, and he shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about it,” He mutters, his voice barely audible.

Dr. Lee respects his choice and moves on to the next person, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Jungwon’s story than he’s letting on. Throughout the session, you catch him glancing at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place.

As the session comes to an end, you gather your things and head for the door. To your surprise, Jungwon approaches you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says quietly, avoiding your gaze, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just... I have my own issues, and sometimes it’s hard to control my anger.”

You nod, appreciating his apology, “It’s okay. We’re all dealing with something here.”

Jungwon finally meets your eyes, and for the first time, you see a glimmer of vulnerability. But then it goes away just as fast and he walks away, leaving you alone in the room.

After the therapy session, you head back to your room, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The weight of sharing your story and hearing others' experiences has left you emotionally drained. As you settle into your bed, there's a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

The door opens, and the nurse from the day before steps in. You recognize her immediately as the one who had the confrontation with Jungwon. She smiles warmly at you, carrying a tray with some medication and a glass of water.

"How are you feeling today?" She asks, placing the tray on your bedside table.

"I'm okay," You reply, though your mind is buzzing with questions about Jungwon. You hesitate for a moment before deciding to ask, "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," She says, her expression kind and patient.

"The day before yesterday, I saw you with Jungwon. He seemed really upset. Do you know what happened to him?" You ask, hoping for some insight into the boy who has been occupying your thoughts.

The nurse's smile falters slightly, and she shakes her head, "I'm sorry, but I can't discuss another patient's history or personal information."

You nod, understanding the need for confidentiality, but you can't help feeling a bit disappointed. The nurse notices your expression and seems to soften.

"Jungwon has been through a lot," She says carefully, choosing her words with caution, "Sometimes, people have experiences that are difficult to talk about, and it affects how they interact with others."

Her words linger in the air, and you sense there's more to Jungwon's story than she's letting on. The nurse gives you a knowing look, almost as if she's trying to convey something without breaking any rules.

"Just remember," She continues, "everyone here has their own battles. Some are just more visible than others."

You nod again, feeling a bit more at ease. The nurse's words, though vague, give you a glimpse into the pain Jungwon might be hiding. She hands you the medication and waits while you take it, then collects the empty glass.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call," She says before leaving the room.

As the door closes behind her, you lie back on your bed, your mind racing with thoughts about Jungwon. You can't shake the feeling that there's something significant in his past that has shaped him into who he is now.

The sun was slowly setting indicating it was almost time for bed. You let out a yawn and rolled on your side. Your hoping tomorrow will be a more peaceful day.

The morning light filters through the thin curtains of your hospital room, gently waking you from a restless sleep. You stretch and decide that today, you'll make an effort to eat breakfast. It's been days since you arrived, and the thought of food hasn't crossed your mind much, but you know you need to take care of yourself.

You slip into a pair of slippers and make your way to the cafeteria. The smell of pancakes and coffee fills the air, and your stomach growls in response. You grab a tray and select a modest breakfast: some scrambled eggs, toast, and a small bowl of fruit. Scanning the room, you notice most of the tables are occupied by small groups or pairs, deep in conversation.

Finding an empty table near the window, you start to head that way when a voice calls out to you, "Hey, are you new here? Wanna sit with me?"

You turn to see a girl around your age, with bright eyes and a friendly smile. Grateful for the company, you nod and make your way over to her table, "Sure, thanks," you say, setting your tray down and taking a seat.

"I'm Mia," she introduces herself, extending a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mia. I'm Y/n." You reply, shaking her hand.

As you start eating, Mia glances at you with curiosity, "I heard you talking about a crash in the group session yesterday. That must have been really tough."

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat, "Yeah, it was. It's been hard to process everything."

Mia gives you a sympathetic look, "I can't imagine what you're going through. But talking about it is a good step. It helps to share, even if it's painful."

You appreciate her understanding and openness. As you continue your conversation, you notice Jungwon entering the cafeteria.

He looks tired, his hair slightly disheveled, and yet he still looks handsome. There's a quiet determination in his eyes as he grabs a tray and starts selecting his breakfast.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you turn to Mia, "Do you know anything about Jungwon?" You ask, keeping your voice low.

Mia's expression shifts slightly, and she nods, "Yeah, I do. Jungwon's story is pretty intense. He doesn't talk about it much, but word gets around in a place like this."

She pauses, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "Jungwon had a rough childhood. His parents weren't around much, and he had to fend for himself a lot. There was an incident a few years ago that really changed him. He lost someone very close to him in a tragic accident. It left him with a lot of guilt and anger, and he's been struggling to cope ever since."

You listen intently, feeling a pang of empathy for Jungwon, "That sounds really hard," you say softly.

Mia nods, "It is. But he's strong, even if he doesn't always show it. He's been trying to work through his pain, just like the rest of us. Maybe one day, he'll open up more."

As Jungwon walks back towards his room with a tray, you can't help but feel a deeper connection to him. You understand now that his silence and his struggles are rooted in a past filled with pain.

As much as you wanna know more, you think focusing on building connections with the people around you first, starting with Mia. The road to healing is gonna be long, but with a friend by your side, it feels a little less daunting.

The room was filled with a mix of nervous energy and cautious optimism as the group gathered for their weekly session. Today’s topic was coping mechanisms, a crucial skill for everyone present.

The facilitator began the session by guiding the group through various techniques, from breathing exercises to journaling, aiming to equip them with tools to manage their emotions.

As the session progressed, the atmosphere lightened, and soon it was time for a break. You decided to grab a cup of coffee from the corner of the room with Mia. While you were pouring yourself a drink, you overheard two guys whispering near the window. Their voices were low, but the disdain in their tone was unmistakable.

“Did you hear what Jungwon did a few days ago? Always trying to start stuff," one of them sneered.

“Yeah, always trying to act like he's better than everyone else. It's pathetic," the other one added, chuckling.

You glanced over and noticed Jungwon standing nearby, his face paling as he caught every word. His fists clenched at his sides, and you could see the anger building in his eyes. Before you could intervene, Jungwon stormed over to the two guys.

"Say that to my face!" Jungwon shouted, his voice trembling with rage.

The room fell silent as everyone turned to watch the confrontation. The two guys smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction they had provoked. One of them stepped forward, ready to escalate the situation.

"You heard us. You're nothing but a—"

Before he could finish, Jungwon threw a punch, and chaos erupted. The facilitator and nurses rushed over, trying to separate them.

Amos tried grabbing you as you quickly moved to help, “Y/n no!” You heard Mia yell.

You grabbed Jungwon's arm in an attempt to pull him back. In the confusion, Jungwon swung his arm wildly, accidentally hitting you in the face.

Pain shot through your cheek, and you stumbled back, clutching your face. The room was a blur of shouting and movement as the nurses finally managed to pull Jungwon away, restraining him.

"Are you okay?" one of the nurses asked, her eyes wide with concern as she helped you to a chair. Mia quickly went by your side holding you up.

You nodded, still dazed from the impact. "I'm fine," you muttered, though your cheek throbbed painfully.

As Jungwon's anger flared, he didn't even notice that he had accidentally hit you. His focus remained solely on yelling at the guys, his voice echoing through the room.

The nurses quickly realized that the situation was spiraling out of control. Despite his protests, they managed to escort him out, hoping that some fresh air would help him cool down.

Mia sobbed, her worry not fading watching you hold your cheek, "Let's get you back to your room so they can patch you up properly."

You both made your way to your room, where the nurse was waiting with a first aid kit. The nurse looked up as they entered and gave the reader a grateful smile, “Thank you for stepping in earlier. It was very brave of you, but also quite dangerous."

You winced slightly as the nurse began to clean the cut on her cheek, "I know. I just couldn't stand by and do nothing."

The nurse nodded, her expression thoughtful, "What surprised me was how Jungwon seemed to calm down for a quick second when you touched him. It was like he recognized you and it brought him back to reality, even if just for a moment."

You thought back to the incident, remembering the brief flicker of recognition in Jungwon's eyes, "Yeah, I noticed that too. Maybe there's still a part of him that knows we're here to help."

The nurse finished applying a bandage to your cheek and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "Let's hope so. Just be careful next time, alright?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and determination, "I will. Thanks for helping me out."

Mia gave the reader a gentle hug, "We'll get through this together. Just take it easy for now, okay?"

You smiled, grateful for her friend's support, "Okay, Mia. Thanks for being here."

She gave you a bright smile before exiting the room with the nurse. You let out a pained sigh and lay on your bed. You decided to just skip lunch and your group sessions for the rest of day by sleeping.

You weren’t sure what time it was given how it was pitch dark out when you were jolted awake by a sudden, insistent knocking on your door. Groggy and disoriented, you stumbled out of bed and made your way to the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an odd hour.

As you opened it, you were surprised to see Jungwon standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Jungwon? What are you doing here?" You asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He didn't waste any time, "Why did you step in earlier?" He demanded, his tone sharp.

You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, "I wanted to help. I didn't want you to get into trouble."

Jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You can't do that again. When I get angry, I can't stop until I see the person on the ground, not breathing. Do you understand?"

A chill ran down your spine at his words. You could see the seriousness in his eyes, and it scared you, "What do they do to you, Jungwon?" You asked quietly, needing to understand what was happening to him.

He looked away, his jaw tightening, "They gave me a shot to make me fall asleep. It's the only way they can control me when I get like that."

Your heart ached for him. Your reached out and gently touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort, "I'm sorry you have to go through that. But you have to know that I'm here for you, even if it's dangerous."

Jungwon looked back at you, his eyes softening for a moment. But when he noticed your arm on him, he quickly retreated back, “Don’t step in like that again."

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his request. "I promise. But please, if there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

He scoffed, “I stopped asking for help a long time ago.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he turned away and left, leaving you alone once again. You quietly shut your door and head back to your bed. You fell asleep hoping that Jungwon will open up soon, even if it meant going out of boundaries.

The morning sun was setting through the window of your room where Mia and you sat on your bed, cards spread out between them. Mia was patiently teaching you a new card game, her voice calm and encouraging.

"Okay, so you want to match the suits, like this," Mia explained, demonstrating with a couple of cards. You nodded, trying to follow along, when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," You called out, glancing up from the cards. A nurse poked her head in and smiled.

"You have a visitor," The nurse said.

You frowned in confusion, "A visitor? Who could it be?"

The nurse stepped aside, and in walked your aunt, her face lighting up with a mix of relief and concern as she saw her niece, “Auntie!" You exclaimed, standing up quickly and moving to embrace her.

"How did you know I was here?" You asked, pulling back slightly to look at your aunt.

Your aunt sighed, brushing a strand of hair from the reader's face, "Your therapist told me. I was so worried when I heard."

As you both stood there, your aunt's eyes fell on the patch on your cheek. Her expression shifted to one of worry, "What happened to your face, sweetheart?"

You touched the patch self-consciously and gave a small, reassuring smile, “It's nothing serious, Auntie. Just a little accident. I'm doing fine, really."

Mia, sensing the need for some privacy, began to gather up the cards, "I'll give you two some time to catch up," She said kindly, offering you a supportive smile before slipping out of the room.

Your aunt guided you back to the bed, sitting down beside her, “Tell me how you're really doing," She insisted gently.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's been tough, but I'm managing. The doctors and nurses here are great, and Mia's been a big help. I'm working through things with my therapist, and I feel like I'm making progress."

Your aunt nodded, her eyes filled with empathy, "I'm glad to hear that. It's important to take things one day at a time. Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

You felt a wave of gratitude and relief wash over her, “Thank you, Auntie. That means a lot."

You both spent the next hour talking, catching up on family news and sharing memories. Your aunt's presence was a comforting reminder of home and the support system waiting for you outside the hospital walls.

As you talked, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination to keep pushing forward on your journey to recovery.

After spending a comforting hour with your aunt, you felt a sense of warmth and reassurance. You both shared a heartfelt hug, and you walked your aunt to the door of the hospital room.

"Thank you for coming, Auntie. It really means a lot to me," You said, your voice filled with gratitude.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Remember, I'm just a phone call away," Your aunt replied, giving one last squeeze before heading down the hallway.

You watched your aunt leave before turning back to her room. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go find Mia. You wanted to invite Mia back to your room to continue their card game, hoping it would help distract you from the day's emotions.

As you approached Mia's room, the reader heard voices inside. You paused at the slightly ajar door and peeked in, your curiosity piqued. Mia was sitting on the edge of her bed, and Jungwon was standing in front of her, his expression tense.

"When are you going to tell her, Jungwon?" Mia asked, her voice filled with concern.

Jungwon's face hardened, and he responded harshly, "That's none of your business, Mia. Stay out of it."

Your heart sank as you watched the exchange. You noticed Jungwon turning to the door and quickly hid behind a chair. After he stormed out the room, walking the opposite direction you stood up, but only to be met face to face with Mia.

Mia looked up and saw you standing there, her eyes widening in surprise, “Oh, hey," She said, trying to mask her anxiety with a forced smile, "I didn't see you there."

You stepped in front of her, your mind racing with questions, "I was just coming to ask if you wanted to come back to my room," You said slowly, eyes flickering to the door where Jungwon had just exited.

Mia stood up, her expression softening, "Of course, I'd love to. I'm sorry about that... you know, what you just saw. It's... complicated."

You nodded, sensing Mia's reluctance to explain further, "It's okay," You said, though your mind was far from at ease, "Let's just go back and finish our game."

Mia followed you back to your room, the tension from the previous conversation still lingering in the air. You both sat down on your bed, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something important was being kept from you. You glanced at Mia, who was shuffling the cards with a focused expression, and decided not to press the issue for now.

As you both resumed the game, you tried to push the unsettling encounter out of your mind. But the questions remained, nagging at the back of your thoughts. What was Jungwon supposed to tell that person? And why was Mia so concerned? The answers would have to wait, but you knew you couldn't ignore them forever.

After a fun and intense game of cards, you and Mia share a laugh together as you kept messing up. The room is filled with warmth and the faint smell of antiseptic, but the laughter makes it feel almost like home.

You stand up, stretching slightly before announcing, "I'm going to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

As you walk down the dimly lit hospital corridor, the sound of your footsteps echoes softly. Turning a corner, you notice a faint haze and the unmistakable scent of cigarette smoke.

Curiosity piqued, you peek around the corner and see a group of guys huddled together, smoking. Their faces are shadowed, and their laughter is low and menacing.

Your heart races as they try to quietly walk away, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But before you can escape, one of the guys notices and calls out, "Hey, where do you think you're going?" You freeze, feeling a knot of fear tighten in your stomach.

"Come here," Another guy demands, his voice rough. You hesitate but steps closer, trying to stay calm, "If you don’t tell anyone, we’ll let you have a hit." One of them says, holding out a cigarette. You shake your head, backing away slightly.

"No, thanks, we’re not supposed to be smoking anyways." You reply, trying to keep your voice steady. But the group steps closer, surrounding you. Your mind flashes back to what Jungwon had said earlier about being weak. Determined to prove him wrong, you tried to push past them, but one of the guys grabs your arm.

"What's the matter? Scared?" He taunts. Your pulse quickens, and you yank your arm free, shoving the guy away. Anger flares in his eyes, and the group tightens their circle.

"Leave me alone," You say firmly, but your voice wavers. The guys laugh mockingly, and one of them steps forward, pushing you against the wall.

"You're not going anywhere," He sneers. You struggles, trying to fight them off, but your outnumbered. The group grows more aggressive, their grip tightening.

Just as things seem dire, a loud voice echoes down the hallway, "Hey! What’s going on here?" You look up, hope sparking in your eyes. A nurse rounds the corner, her expression stern and authoritative. The group hesitates, then reluctantly backs off, muttering under their breaths as they disperse.

The nurse rushes to your side, helping you stand, "Are you okay?" She asks, concern evident in her voice. You nod, still shaken but relieved.

"Yeah, I think so," You reply, your voice trembling slightly. The nurse escorts you back to your room, as you were reaching your room, you glanced back over your shoulder.

That's when you saw him—Jungwon. He stood at the edge of the hall, his expression serious and intense. He had been watching the entire scene unfold, his eyes never leaving you.

The nurse led you inside your room. You collapse into a chair, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind was also elsewhere. You couldn't shake the image of Jungwon standing there, watching you with such intensity. What had he been thinking? Why hadn't he stepped in to help when he saw you having trouble?

Mia goes up to you, worry etched on her face, "What happened?" She asks. You takes a deep breath, recounting the encounter briefly. Mia listens, her expression shifting from concern to anger.

"Those guys are the real weak ones," She says firmly, “You stood up to them, and that's what matters." You nod, feeling a sense of pride and relief wash over you.

When the nurse finally leaves, you found yourself drawn to the door, your gaze searching for Jungwon. He was still there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Your eyes met, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Finally, Jungwon pushed off the wall and walked the opposite way, leaving you confused and upset. Mia voice slowly disappeared as you continued staring at the door.

The night was thick with silence, the kind that made every creak and whisper seem amplified. You tossed and turned in your bed, unable to find any semblance of sleep. Frustration gnawed at you, and you finally decided that a walk might help clear your mind. Slipping out of bed, you padded quietly down the sterile hallways and out into the hospital garden.

The garden was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting long shadows that danced with the gentle breeze. As you wandered aimlessly, you spotted a familiar figure seated at a bench—Jungwon. He was in the same spot you had seen him before, his posture rigid, his gaze distant. You felt a pang of something you couldn't quite name and decided to turn away.

But before you could take another step, his voice cut through the stillness, "Stop," He commanded, his tone cold and unyielding. You froze, your heart pounding, "Sit with me," He added, though it was less of a request and more of an order.

You hesitated, your pride and fear warring within you, "No, I don't think I should," You replied softly, trying to muster the courage to walk away.

Jungwon's expression darkened, and he stood up, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides, "I said, sit with me," He repeated, his voice harsh and leaving no room for argument.

Swallowing your apprehension, you nodded and followed him back to the bench. You both sat in silence for a few moments, the tension between you guys palpable.

Gradually, the stillness of the night began to soothe your nerves, and you found yourself gazing up at the stars. They seemed to twinkle with a kind of serene indifference, a stark contrast to the turmoil in your heart.

Jungwon finally broke the silence, "You were brave," He said, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of seriousness, "What you did with those guys... it took guts."

You glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected compliment, "I just didn't want to be seen as weak," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to look at you, his boba eyes reflecting the starlight, "Bravery isn't about never being scared. It's about facing your fears, even when you're terrified," He said quietly. "You did that. Although I think I’m the cause to why you acted like that."

His words hung in the air between them, and you felt a mix of emotions—gratitude, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place. You both sat there for a while longer, simply admiring the stars. The silence between you guys was no longer tense but filled with an unspoken understanding. As the night wore on, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

When you both finally stood to leave, Jungwon's serious demeanor softened just a bit, "Next time you can't sleep, come find me," He said. "We can admire the stars together."

Your eyes widened before a soft smile rose on your lips, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, "I will," You promised. And as you walked back to your room, you felt a sense of peace you hadn't known you needed.

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, gently waking you from a restless sleep. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, knowing today was the group therapy session.

You got ready, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The sessions lately have been going good with Mia by your side. You felt grateful with her, but today felt different.

As you walked into the room, you noticed Jungwon sitting alone, his usual cold and serious demeanor even more pronounced.

You took a deep breath and decided to sit next to him. He gave you a brief glance but didn’t object, which you took as a good sign.

The session began, and everyone shared their updates. You could feel the tension in the room when it was Jungwon’s turn. He had never opened up before, always keeping his emotions tightly locked away.

To everyone’s surprise, Jungwon started to speak. His voice was low and controlled as he began, "My parents… they never really cared for me. It was always about what I could do for them, not about who I was or how I felt."

The room fell silent, everyone hanging on his every word. He didn’t go into much detail, but the mere fact that he was sharing was a huge step. When he finished, he simply looked down, not saying anything more.

You felt a surge of pride for him. Jungwon had taken a significant step by opening up, even if it was brief. The group might have been shocked, but you understood the courage it took for him to speak up.

Dr. Lee immediately spoke, “T-Thats amazing that you shared Jungwon. I’m glad you did.” Jungwon didn’t say anything.

As the session ended, you gave him a small, encouraging smile, hoping it conveyed your support. He didn’t give a smile back and simply got up and left. Mia stood next to you, “I can’t believe he actually said something.”

You gave her a small chuckle, “Me too. It’s a big step.” You murmured. Mia nodded her head. You both headed to lunch with. few other people.

As you and Mia joked around, ready to head to the cafeteria, Dr. Kim's voice halted you in your tracks, "Can I speak with you for a moment?" She asked, her tone serious. You turned to see her standing in the doorway of her office, her expression unreadable.

"Sure, Dr. Kim," you replied, you looked at Mia who gave you an understanding nod, and you following her into the room. She closed the door behind you and gestured for you to sit. You took a seat, feeling a knot of anxiety form in your stomach.

"I saw you in the garden last night," Dr. Kim began, her eyes locking onto yours, "With Jungwon."

Your heart skipped a beat. You and Jungwon had thought you were alone, away from prying eyes, "I... we were just talking," You stammered, unsure of what to say.

Dr. Kim nodded, her expression softening slightly, "I understand that you're trying to help him. And I commend you for that. Jungwon is a difficult person to reach, and it seems you've managed to get through to him in a way that no one else has."

You felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe she was going to support your friendship with Jungwon. But then her expression turned serious again, "However, I need to warn you. Jungwon is a troubled person. He has a lot of issues that he's dealing with, and I'm concerned about the impact it could have on you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop you, "I know you care about him. But you need to think about your own well-being too. It's not your responsibility to fix him. He needs professional help, and while your support is valuable, it can't replace that."

Her words stung, but you knew she was right. Jungwon had been through a lot, and his cold, hard exterior was a defense mechanism he had built to protect himself.

You had seen glimpses of the real Jungwon, the one who was vulnerable and hurting, but you also knew that he had a long road ahead of him.

"I just want you to be careful," Dr. Kim continued, "You have a big heart, and it's admirable that you want to help. But don't lose yourself in the process."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. You cared about Jungwon deeply, but you also understood the risks involved, "I understand, Dr. Kim. I'll be careful."

She gave you a small smile, her eyes filled with empathy, "That's all I ask. Now, go and enjoy your lunch. And remember, I'm here if you need to talk."

You left her office, your mind racing with thoughts. You knew you couldn't abandon Jungwon, but you also had to take care of yourself. It was a delicate balance, one that you would have to navigate carefully.

As you walked to the cafeteria, you resolved to be there for Jungwon, but also to heed Dr. Kim's advice. You would find a way to support him without losing yourself in the process.

Once you came to the cafeteria, you sat down in front of Mia. Mia looked up from her book, immediately noticing the troubled expression on your face.

"What's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed and sat down on your bed, running a hand through your hair, "Dr. Kim told me to stay away from Jungwon," You admitted, feeling a lump form in your throat, "She said he's too troubled and that I need to think about my own well-being."

Mia's eyes widened slightly, and she put her book aside, "She told me the same thing," Mia confessed, her voice soft, "And back then, I actually did stay away from him."

You looked at her, surprised, "How long have you known Jungwon?"

Mia sighed, leaning back against the headboard, "Jungwon was in the hospital longer than I was," She explained, "But I only knew him because my guy friend used to be friends with him before he got discharged. After my friend left, I stopped talking to Jungwon."

You felt a pang of sympathy for Jungwon, realizing how many people had distanced themselves from him, "Why did you stop talking to him?"

Mia shrugged, a sad smile on her face, "It was easier that way. Jungwon's issues were too much for me to handle, and I had to focus on my own recovery. But I always felt guilty about it. I did promise my guy friend that I’d stay by Jungwon side for him."

You nodded, understanding her perspective, "I don't want to abandon him," You said softly, "But I also don't want to lose myself in the process."

Mia reached out and squeezed your hand, "It's a tough situation," She said gently, "But you have to find a balance. You can support him, but you also need to take care of yourself. Don't let his problems consume you."

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded, "Thanks, Mia. I needed to hear that."

She smiled, her eyes filled with empathy, "Anytime. Just remember, you're not alone in this. We're all here for you."

You walked into the second group session, scanning the room for familiar faces. But one face was missing – Jungwon. You assumed he had already spoken and decided not to stick around. The session went on, but your mind kept drifting back to him, wondering what he was up to.

Once the session ended, you made your way back to your room. As you passed Dr. Kim's office, you were startled by the sound of yelling. You peered inside and saw Jungwon, his face contorted with rage, shouting at Dr. Kim.

"How could you do this to me?" He screamed, his voice filled with anger and hurt. He slammed his fist on her desk, sending papers flying. Dr. Kim tried to calm him down, but he was beyond reason.

Your heart pounded as you watched in shock. Jungwon's outburst escalated, and he started throwing things off the shelves, his fury uncontrollable. Nurses and doctors rushed in, trying to restrain him.

"No! Let me go!" Jungwon yelled, struggling against their grip.

You couldn't just stand there, "Don't give him a shot!" You shouted, running towards them, "Please, just let him calm down on his own."

The medical staff hesitated, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Dr. Kim looked at you, her expression a mix of concern and frustration, "We're trying to help him," She said firmly.

"I know," You replied, your voice trembling, "But sedating him won't solve anything. He needs to feel like he has some control."

Slowly, Jungwon's resistance weakened, and he slumped in the doctors' hold, exhausted from his outburst. They guided him back to his room, and you followed closely behind, making sure they didn't administer any medication.

As you reached his room, you stepped inside, and the staff left, giving you a moment alone with him. Jungwon sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, breathing heavily.

"Hey," You said softly, sitting down next to him, "Are you okay?"

He looked up at you, his eyes red and filled with a mix of anger and sadness, "I don't know," He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, "Everything just feels so messed up."

You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "It's okay to feel that way," You said gently, “But you don't have to go through it alone. We're all here to help you, even if it doesn't always feel that way."

Jungwon nodded slowly, absorbing your words. It was silent for a few seconds before he slowly shrugged you off. Not again. "Thanks," He muttered, "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

"We'll figure it out together," You promised. "One step at a time."

For the first time since you entered the room, you saw a flicker of hope in Jungwon's eyes. It was a small step, but it was a step in the right direction. And as you sat there with him, you knew you would do everything in your power to help him find his way.

You waited patiently for a few seconds before you decided to ask him a question, “Jungwon, what was Dr. Kim saying to you?” You questioned. It was silent for a while.

You felt like you stepped out of line and tried to cover it up, but Jungwon spoke before you did, “She was saying that… that my sister was gonna see me today, but she told her that I wasn’t in right mind to be visisted.” He whispered.

You were lost in thought. Jungwon's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features, "I don't know," He muttered, looking away, "I just... don't."

"That doesn't make sense," you pressed gently, "Why would she say that to her? I haven’t really known you for a long time, but I know you’d never do something stupid to your sister."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "It's complicated," He said, his voice softer now, "I have... issues."

You took a step closer, your heart aching for him, "Jungwon, what kind of issues?"

Jungwon hesitated, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "Anger issues. People don't want to be near me because of it."

You felt a pang of sadness, "Is that why you were upset? Because you think your sister wouldn't want to be near you?"

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor, "Yeah. I guess... I just assumed she’d be like everyone else."

“Jungwon," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I'm not like everyone else. I want to understand you, to help you if I can. And I know your sister would too.”

He looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty, "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I care about you," you replied honestly, "Everyone has their struggles, and it doesn't make them any less worthy of friendship or support."

For a moment, Jungwon seemed to struggle with his emotions. Then, slowly, he began to open up, "I've always had a hard time controlling my anger," He admitted, "It scares people away. They think I'm dangerous, that I'll hurt them."

"But that's not who you are," You said firmly, "You're more than your anger. And I'm willing to stand by you, if you'll let me."

Jungwon stared at you for a hot second before staring down on the ground. You can tell he was fighting some dry comment, "Thank you," He whispered, "I don't know if I deserve it, but... thank you."

You smiled, feeling a sense of relief and hope? "We'll figure it out together," you promised.

As you both sat there, but being able to move, you knew this was a big step for Jungwon to opening up to you. You hoped you helped in some way about being comfortable.

"Jungwon, can I ask you another question?" You asked gently.

He looked at you, you noticed his eyes shifted from soft to hard and guarded, "What is it?”

"I want to understand you better," You said, "I want to know why you always seem so angry." If you were going to help him, you’d have to know why he always felt angry and out of place.

Jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair, "It's complicated," He muttered, looking away.

"Try me," You encouraged, "I'm here to listen."

He hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke, his voice low and filled with pain, "I’m not really sure why I have it, but my parents never paid much attention to me," He began, "They were always too busy with their own lives. The only person who ever really cared about me was my older sister. She promised she'd always be there for me, but when she went to college, she never contacted me again. No calls, no visits. Nothing."

You felt your heart ache for him, "That must have been really hard."

"It was," Jungwon admitted, "But it got worse. I had a best friend, Sunoo. He was the only one who understood me, who made me feel like I wasn't alone. But then he passed away. It felt like the universe was against me, like everyone I cared about would eventually leave me."

You saw his eyes turning glossy, but then he blinked and harshly wiped them away, "I'm so sorry, Jungwon," You whispered, "That must have been unbearable."

He nodded, “That's why I never got close to people. I pushed everyone away, even Mia and our other friend. Because at the end of the day, they left me too. I couldn't bear the thought of getting close to someone else, only to lose them."

You reached out and gently took his hand, "You're not alone anymore, Jungwon. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

“How do I know if I can trust you?” He whispered. You immediately fought the urge to hug him. Like you said before, you aren’t really that close. But he was willing to open up to you. So you’ll leave at that for now.

“Because I’m not willing to leave anytime soon until you’re better.” You spoke, your face serious.

Jungwon didn’t say anything, instead he looked out his window. You knew you didn’t need another reason to stay any longer, so you stood up from his bed and headed towards the door.

“Please let me know if you need anything Jungwon.” You said. Jungwon didn’t look at you. You let out a quiet sigh before shutting his door with a click.

The day had been long, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, the hospital began to quiet down. You had just finished your last group session for the day and decided to take a moment for yourself. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you were headed back to your room when you overheard a conversation that stopped you in your tracks.

Two nurses were talking in hushed tones near the nurses' station, "I heard Dr. Kim is planning to transfer Jungwon to another hospital," One of them said, her voice tinged with concern, "He's been so angry and upset lately. They think a change of environment might help."

Your heart skipped a beat. Jungwon was going to be sent away? You couldn't believe it. After you finally got to know more about him, he’s being sent away?

Without thinking, you made your way to Jungwon's room. The hallway seemed longer than usual, your footsteps echoing in the silence. When you reached his door, you hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Then, summoning your courage, you knocked softly.

A few moments later, the door opened, and there stood Jungwon, his expression as unreadable, "What is it?" He asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, "I just overheard the nurses talking. They said Dr. Kim is planning to transfer you to another hospital."

Jungwon's face remained impassive, showing no sign of surprise or concern. "I knew she was gonna do something," He replied simply, his tone flat.

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness wash over you. How could he be so indifferent? "Aren't you worried? Don't you care?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Jungwon's eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something—an emotion, perhaps—before it disappeared, "It's not my decision to make," He said quietly, "If she think it's best for me, then so be it."

You stood there, searching for the right words, "I just... I don't want you to go," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, "I feel like I’ve known you too late, I still want to help you.”

Jungwon's gaze softened ever so slightly, but he remained silent. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, "Thank you," He said, his voice almost gentle, "But I guess Kim was right, it's easier to keep people at a distance."

You suddenly felt anger. Why does he listen to her? “Jungwon, what Dr. Kim says to you isn’t true. I don’t know why she treats you so horrible, but it’s not right!”

The air in the room was thick with tension after you finished. The words hung in the air, heavy and significant, but Jungwon's face remained impassive, showing no trace of emotion. You could feel your frustration building, a knot tightening in your chest. How could he just stand there, so unresponsive, when everything was falling apart around you?

"Jungwon," you began, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation, “Did you even hear what Dr. Kim said? Do you even care?"

Jungwon remained silent, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere beyond you. It was as if he was in another world, completely detached from the reality of the situation. The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms.

“Say something, Jungwon!" You finally shouted, unable to hold back any longer, "Anything! Just let me know that you're feeling the same way I’m feeling!"

Before you could utter another word, Jungwon moved. In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face. His eyes, which had seemed so distant moments ago, were now filled with an intensity that took your breath away. And then, without warning, he kissed you.

The kiss was soft yet urgent, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness. It was as if he was pouring all the emotions he couldn't express into that single, tender moment. Your anger and frustration melted away, replaced by a flood of warmth and love. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you could see the unspoken apology in his eyes.

“I'm sorry," He whispered, his voice barely audible, "I just... I don’t know how to handle it. But I'm here. I'm with you."

You stared at his apologetic eyes. He kissed you. You suddenly felt that wave of sadness and before you could stop yourself, tears poured out of your eyes. Jungwon felt you tug at his shirt as you cried.

You didn’t want him to leave. To leave you. You don’t know how much longer you would stay here, and to have Jungwon be alone once again. Jungwon let your cry in his shirt, unable to push you away. And at the moment, the only thing left was you cries and sobs, and that one last string that was holding you and Jungwon together.

You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, remnants of last night's tears still evident on your pillow. Every muscle in your body felt heavy, weighed down by the emotional turmoil you had gone through. The thought of eating breakfast or attending the group session seemed unbearable, so you decided to stay in bed, hoping to find some solace in the quiet of your room.

A soft knock on your door shattered the silence. You hesitated for a moment, then slowly got up to answer it. Standing there was Jungwon, his expression serious and his demeanor cold. The warmth and tenderness from last night seemed like a distant memory.

"Jungwon," You said, your voice barely above a whisper, “What are you doing here?"

"I'm leaving in a week," He stated bluntly, his eyes not meeting yours. The words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt a fresh wave of sadness wash over you.

"In a week?" you repeated, your voice trembling.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer and gently rubbed your cheek, his touch surprisingly comforting despite his cold exterior. The memory of the kiss from last night flashed in your mind, and you couldn't help but ask the question that had been haunting you.

“Why did you kiss me, Jungwon?" You asked, your eyes searching his for any hint of the emotions he seemed to hide so well.

He finally looked at you, his gaze intense and unreadable, "I don’t know," He admitted, his voice quiet but firm, "It was just something I've been wanting to do."

The simplicity of his answer left you speechless. You had expected a deeper explanation, something that would make sense of the confusion and pain you were feeling. But as you stood there, looking into his eyes, you realized that sometimes, emotions couldn't be neatly explained or understood. They just were.

Jungwon's touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he pulled away, his expression softening just a fraction, "Just because I’m leaving, that doesn’t mean to take advantage of yourself Y/n. Take care of yourself," He said.

Now that you’ve looked at it, you noticed how his expressions were. His once anger that he always felt seemed to just have drifted away from him. He looked numb. Maybe he was only feeling that way towards you, or that he just gave up on trying.

“I won’t. Thank you.” You muttered.

It had been a long, dreading week since you learned that Jungwon was leaving on Friday. The news had hit you hard, but you resolved to spend as much time with him as possible before he left. Each day felt like it was slipping through your fingers, and the more you were with him, the more you noticed how numb he seemed. The seriousness that he held never wavered, and it was as if he was trying to distance himself emotionally before his departure.

You tried to make the most of the time you had, mostly in the garden and seeing the stars together. You liked watching his expression soften as he stared up at the stars.

The days flew by, and before you knew it, it was Friday—the day Jungwon was leaving. The morning felt heavy with unspoken words and emotions. You met him at the place where you'd first met, a small, quiet spot that held so many memories. He stood there, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Jungwon," you began, your voice trembling, "I can't believe today is the day."

He nodded, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance, "Yeah."

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, "I've noticed how numb you've been this week. Why, Jungwon? Why do you keep everything inside?"

He finally looked at you, his eyes softening just a bit, "It's just how I deal with things," He said quietly, "It's easier to be numb than to feel everything at once."

You reached out and took his hand, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself, "But you don't have to do it alone. You don't have to shut everyone out."

For a moment, he squeezed your hand, a small but significant gesture, “I know," He said, his voice barely above a whisper, "But it's hard for me to open up. Especially now."

You felt a tear escape and quickly wiped it away, "I'll miss you, Jungwon. More than you know."

He took a step closer, his expression softening even more, "I'll miss you too," he admitted, his voice filled with an emotion you hadn't heard before, “More than I can say."

You stood there in silence, holding onto each other, trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Finally, he pulled away.

“Take care of yourself," He said, his voice steady but tinged with sadness.

"You too," You replied, your heart aching.

As he walked away, you felt a mix of sorrow and hope. Sorrow for the time you were losing, but hope that maybe, this wasn't the end.

You spent your days in the hospital feeling a void that couldn't be filled. Jungwon's absence was a constant ache in your heart. Every corner of the hospital reminded you of him, from the cafeteria where you'd share quiet thoughts to the garden where you'd steal moments of peace together.

Mia, ever observant, noticed the change in you almost immediately. One day, she approached you with a concerned look, "Hey, are you doing okay? You seem different lately."

You forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside, "I'm fine, Mia. I promised Jungwon I wouldn't change because he left."

Mia gave you a sympathetic look, "It's okay to feel a little sad, you know. It's only natural."

You sighed, feeling a weight lift slightly from your shoulders, "Yeah, you're right. I do miss him a lot."

Dr. Kim had also noticed the change in you. One afternoon, she called you into her office. You sat down, feeling a bit anxious as she looked at you with a serious expression.

"I've noticed a difference in you lately," She began, "I was hoping you didn't have romantic feelings for Jungwon, as that's not allowed."

Her words stung, and you felt a mix of anger and sadness, "Why would you say that? Jungwon is one of the kindest people I know."

Dr. Kim sighed, her expression softening slightly, "Jungwon is not in his right mind right now. It's important for you to focus on your own well-being. I also noticed Jungwon change when he was leaving. You must mean a lot to him, but like I said, that’s not allowed."

You felt a surge of frustration, “How can you say that? You don't know him like I do."

Dr. Kim looked at you, her eyes filled with concern, "You're right Y/n, I don’t. I'm just looking out for you. It's important to stay professional and keep your emotions in check. You’re not here to look for love.”

You left her office feeling even more conflicted. You missed Jungwon deeply, and now you had to navigate your emotions while trying to remain professional. But you knew one thing for sure—you wouldn't let anyone dictate how you felt about Jungwon.

The sleepless nights seemed endless. Each one was a reminder of how much you missed Jungwon. You'd lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying memories of him in your mind. The hospital felt colder and lonelier without his presence.

In an effort to cope, you started attending group therapy sessions. At first, it was difficult to open up, but over time, you found solace in the shared experiences of others. The group became a small beacon of hope, helping you feel a bit better day by day.

Despite the progress, the ache of missing Jungwon never fully went away. His absence was a constant shadow, but you learned to manage it better. The group sessions taught you valuable coping mechanisms, and slowly, you started to find small moments of peace.

Months passed, and you began to notice a change in yourself. The sleepless nights became less frequent, and you started to feel a sense of normalcy returning to your life. You still missed Jungwon deeply, but you were learning to live with that feeling.

Finally, the day came when you were getting discharged. It felt surreal to be leaving the hospital after so long. You packed your things, feeling a mix of emotions—relief, anxiety, and a lingering sadness. As you walked through the halls one last time, you couldn't help but think of Jungwon and all the moments you shared.

The day had finally arrived. After months of being in the mental hospital, you were getting discharged. You packed your belongings, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As you walked through the familiar halls one last time, you made your way to Mia's room. Mia had become a close friend during your stay, and saying goodbye was bittersweet.

"Mia, I'm leaving today," You said softly, trying to hold back tears.

Mia smiled, though her eyes were watery, “I'm so happy for you. You've come so far. Promise me you'll take care of yourself out there."

You nodded, giving her a tight hug, "I promise. I'll miss you."

With a heavy heart, you left Mia's room and headed towards the exit. Just before you reached the door, you saw Dr. Kim approaching.

"Hello, Dr. Kim," you greeted her.

Dr. Kim smiled warmly, maintaining her professional demeanor, "I'm proud of you. You've made remarkable progress. Remember to take things one day at a time."

"Thank you, Dr. Kim. I couldn't have done it without your help," You replied sincerely.

Dr. Kim handed you a folded piece of paper, "This is for you. Open it when you have a moment."

Curious, you took the paper and nodded, "Thank you."

You walked out of the hospital and got into the cab waiting for you. As the cab started moving, you unfolded the paper. It was a letter. The handwriting was familiar, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized it was from Jungwon.

Dear Y/n, I'm so sorry I never had the courage to confess my feelings to you. I've loved you ever since we first spoke. I regret not telling you sooner. I hope you can forgive me. If you want to, visit me anytime at [hospital address]. I’m hoping you meant what you said you’ll never leave me.

Love, Jungwon.

Tears streamed down your face as you read the letter. The emotions were overwhelming. You had missed Jungwon deeply, and knowing he felt the same way brought both pain and relief. You clutched the letter to your chest, feeling a mix of sorrow and hope for the future.

As the cab drove on, you looked out the window, the world outside seemed a little brighter. A new sense suddenly came to you and that’s when you had an idea.

You told the cab driver to take you to the hospital where Jungwon was staying. The drive felt like an eternity, your mind racing with thoughts of what you would say and how he would react. You hadn't seen him in so long, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

When the cab finally pulled up to the hospital, you paid the driver and stepped out, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. You walked through the sliding doors and approached the front desk, where a nurse was busy with paperwork.

"Excuse me," You said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I'm looking for Yang Jungwon. Is he still here?"

The nurse looked up and smiled kindly, "Yes, he is. He's in room 312. Just take the elevator to the third floor and turn left."

You thanked her and made your way to the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest. As the elevator doors closed, you took another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. When the doors opened on the third floor, you followed the nurse's directions and walked down the hallway until you reached room 312.

You hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the door handle. Finally, you gathered your courage and pushed the door open. There he was, sitting up in bed, looking healthier than you had ever seen him. His skin had a healthy glow, and his eyes were brighter. He had changed so much in the months since you'd last seen him.

"Jungwon," You said softly.

He looked up, and for a moment, his cold exterior seemed to melt away, "You came," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Without thinking, you rushed forward and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed, hugging you back just as tightly.

"I missed you so much," You whispered, tears streaming down your face.

"I missed you too," He replied, his voice cracking with emotion, "I'm so glad you're here."

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," He said with a small smile, "A lot better, thanks to you."

You walked into Jungwon's room, immediately struck by how neat and orderly everything was. The room's cold, clinical atmosphere seemed to match his reputation. But you knew better; you knew that beneath that exterior was someone worth caring for.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, feeling the tension in the air, "How's everything been here?" you asked softly.

Jungwon looked at you, his eyes softening for a moment, "A lot better," he said, his voice tinged with relief.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you, "I'm so glad to hear that. I was really worried about you."

He nodded, then his expression became more serious, "I'm relieved that you got discharged. I was worried too."

You reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I hope you get discharged soon too. You deserve to be out of here."

Jungwon sighed, looking around the room, "No one has visited me. My sister is always so busy; she doesn't get the chance."

You felt a pang of sadness for him, "I'd like to meet her," You said, surprising even yourself with the sudden declaration.

He looked at you, confusion flickering in his eyes, "Why?" He asked, but he didn't press further.

"Where do you think she lives?" You asked, determined.

Jungwon gave you a small, grateful smile, "I think she lives in the city, not too far from here. [apartment adress]?"

You nodded, already planning your visit, "I'll go see her and tell her about you. She needs to know how you're doing."

For the first time in a long while, Jungwon looked genuinely relieved, "Thank you," He said softly, "That means a lot to me."

You spent the rest of the visit talking about his stay here and how much everything was different. You noticed how better he looked when he spoke about different things.

You stood by Jungwon's hospital bed, feeling a mix of emotions. It was time to say goodbye, but you promised yourself it wouldn't be for long, "I'll visit you again soon," You said, your voice filled with determination.

Jungwon looked at you, his usual stoic expression softening slightly, "I'll be waiting," He replied.

Gathering your courage, you leaned in and gave him a shy peck on the cheek. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. Jungwon's lips curled into a small smile, a rare sight that warmed your heart.

You turned to leave, glancing back one last time before heading out of the room. As you walked down the hospital corridor, you couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. You needed to see his sister and tell her everything.

The cab ride felt like an eternity, but finally, you reached the apartment building where Jungwon's sister lived. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing a woman who looked strikingly similar to Jungwon.

"Who are you?" She asked, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"I'm a friend of Jungwon's," You explained, "I met him at the hospital."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she stepped aside to let you in. You took a seat on the couch, feeling a bit nervous but determined to convey your message.

“Would you like anything to drink?” She asked, heading in the kitchen.”

“A glass of water is fine.” You replied. You heard turning on the sink as she hummed a tune before coming back in with a glass of water. She gave it to you and sat across from you.

"I wanted to talk to you about Jungwon," You began. "He's been really lonely at the hospital. He misses you a lot."

She looked down, her expression softening, "I know I've been busy, but I didn't realize how much it affected him."

You nodded, understanding the weight of her responsibilities, "He understands that you're busy, but he needs you. Even a short visit would mean so much to him."

She sighed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, "Thank you for telling me. I'll make time to visit him. He deserves that."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, “I'm glad. He really needs his family right now."

She stared at the ground, “I know. Everything been going downhill for me lately that I forgot to visit. I-I feel so bad that I left my baby brother like that. I’m the reason why he’s in the hospital.”

As she sobbed, you noticed how she’s been probably keeping all of this in. They were both going through so much, and yet, no one was there to comfort them. As she wiped her tears away she took a deep breath.

“Jungwon was a good boy. He was never a bad kid. When my parents wouldn’t be there for him, I was. He relied on me so much that when I left for college, he cried so much. I knew that leaving him would be my worst mistake.” She began, “When I got to college, I was so focused on my studies I couldn’t call or visit. And then all of a sudden I hear about him being admitted to a hospital and his friend passing away I knew he was going through so much. And yet, I still didn’t see him. I felt guilt for leaving him that I thought he didn’t wanna see me.”

you nodded your head in understanding, “I know how you feel. I would’ve thought that too. But Jungwon really does miss you. I feel like talking to him first would tell you everything.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes, “I will. Thank you…um,”

“Y/n. Kim Y/n.” You said.

She gave you a smile and nodded, “Thank you, Y/n.”

As you left her apartment, you felt a sense of accomplishment. You had taken a step towards helping Jungwon reconnect with his sister. And as you hailed a cab to head back home, you couldn't wait to see the look on Jungwon's face when his sister finally visited him.

You arrived at your aunt's house, feeling a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. She welcomed you warmly, her embrace providing a sense of comfort you desperately needed, "How was your visit?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"It went well," You replied, managing a small smile, "I need to unpack my things."

She nodded, understanding your need for some time alone. As you unpacked your clothing, your thoughts drifted back to Jungwon. You were determined to visit him again the next day, hoping to see some improvement in his spirits.

You finished unpacking and lay on your bed, soon your eyes began drifting in to slumberland.

The next morning, you made your way back to the hospital. As you approached Jungwon's room, you paused in the doorway, a smile spreading across your face. Jungwon and his sister were sitting together, deep in conversation. It was a sight that filled you with immense relief and happiness.

His sister noticed you first, giving you a warm smile as she stood up to leave. "Thank you," She whispered as she passed by, her eyes conveying her gratitude.

You walked over to Jungwon, who looked up at you with a faint smile, "How are you doing?" You asked, taking a seat beside his bed.

“I'm doing fine," He replied, his voice stronger than before. "Actually, I have some good news. I'm getting discharged soon."

Your heart leaped with joy, "That's amazing, Jungwon! I'm so happy for you."

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a sense of hope you hadn't seen before, "Thanks to you, I got to reconnect with my sister. It means a lot to me."

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, "I’m just keeping my promise. You deserve to have your family around you."

Jungwon reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently, "You did more than help. You gave me hope."

As you sat there, holding his hand, you realized that this was just the beginning with Jungwon. You knew you were gonna be with him every step of the way. And knowing that he would soon be out of the hospital filled you with a sense of optimism for the future.

After a few days of visiting Jungwon, the day finally arrived for him to be discharged. You could hardly contain your excitement as you made your way to the hospital for the last time. Jungwon's sister had given you her number, and you had arranged to meet them at their home to celebrate.

When you arrived at Jungwon's sister's house, you felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. You knocked on the door, and it was quickly opened by Jungwon's sister, who greeted you with a warm smile, “Come in, come in," She said, stepping aside to let you in.

As you walked into the living room, you saw Jungwon sitting on the couch, looking much healthier and happier than the last time you saw him in the hospital. The moment he saw you, his face lit up with a big smile. You rushed over to him and hugged him tightly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

"I'm so glad you're finally home," You said, pulling back to look at him.

“Me too," Jungwon replied, his eyes shining with gratitude, "Thank you for everything."

The afternoon was spent in the best way possible. Jungwon's sister had prepared a delicious meal, and the three of you sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. It felt like a family gathering, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for being included in such a special moment.

As the sun began to set, you found yourself feeling more and more at home. Jungwon's sister noticed your comfort and suggested, "Why don't you stay the night? We have a guest room, and it would be nice to have you here."

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing that you didn't want to leave just yet. "I'd love to," you replied, smiling. You sent your aunt a text to let her know.

The evening was spent watching movies and talking about everything and anything. Jungwon seemed more relaxed than you'd ever seen him, and you felt a deep sense of contentment just being there with him and his sister.

When it was finally time to go to bed, Jungwon walked you to the guest room, "Thank you for staying," He said softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Of course," You replied, giving him a hug, "I'm just glad you're okay."

Before he could go, you gently grab his wrist. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, "I was wondering if you could sleep with me tonight. I just... I don't want to be alone."

Jungwon's eyes softened, and he nodded, “Sure, I'll stay with you."

The two of you made your way to the guest bed, and as you settled into the bed, you felt a sense of comfort wash over you. Jungwon lay down beside you, and you turned to face him, feeling the warmth of his presence.

As you both lay there in the quiet, you decided to share something that had been on your mind, "I visited Mia today," You began, "She's getting discharged soon."

Jungwon smiled, "That's good to hear."

You looked into his eyes, searching for something, and then you asked, "Can I ask you something? I know you and Mia talked a few times, and I was just curious about what you talked about that one day. I-I’m sorry but I kind of eased drop.”

Jungwon sighed softly, his expression thoughtful, "Mia and I were talking because I told her that I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with a guy like me liking you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a mix of emotions, "Why would you think that?"

He looked at you with sincerity in his eyes, "I just didn't want to burden you or make you feel uncomfortable. I care about you a lot, and I didn't want my feelings to complicate things."

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently, "Jungwon, you don't have to worry about that. I care about you too, more than you know. And I'm really glad you're here with me."

A soft smile spread across his face, and he leaned in closer, and kissed you. The kiss was soft and gentle. You softly sighed into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. He gripped your waist softly.

The kiss soon turned into a urgent one and before you knew it, he was above you kissing your neck. You softly moaned and gripped his hair making him let out a groan. He took his shirt off and bends down to kiss you again.

Slowly, you took off your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your undergarments, “Fuck,” Jungwon whispered. He kissed along you jaw and chest and was faced to face with your core. He kissed your cloth pussy softly making you gasp.

He slowly pulled your underwear down to reveal your soaking pussy. You whined when his hot tongue licked your folds, “You taste so sweet.” He teased. You couldn’t speak and continued letting out breathy moans feeling his tongue do magic.

You felt your orgasm coming and squirmed, “J-Jungwon- hic! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. He sucked on your bud and that’s when your orgasm came over you. He didn’t stop licking and sucking on your pussy until you were clean.

He leaned up and took off his sweats and boxers revealing his dick. You bit your lip staring at the red tip with precum. He softly stroke it and aligned his dick in your entrance. Slowly, he finally pushed in making your breath get caught.

You held him tightly as he waited for you to get used to it before moving just a tad bit. You let out a choked cry feeling him push in deeper, “Your squeezing around me so tight.” He hissed.

You mewled in his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. He took that as a sign to keep going and that’s when you felt a sting of pain and pleasure, “P-Please. Move.” You whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice and began moving at a normal pace. The sound of loud skin slapping and moans were heard in the room. You couldn’t hold in your noises and covered your mouth remembering his sister isn’t that far.

He chuckled and dipped down to give you a kiss on your temple before gong at faster pace making you let out a choked moan. You felt him in your stomach, feeling his mushroom tip hitting all the right spots. You knew you were gonna cum soon. You watched Jungwon let out breathy groans and sighs feeling you milk his dick. He could be in you forever.

You felt your orgasm coming and rubbed your bud in circular motions, “G-Gonna cum- ah!” You cried out before you were coming all over his dick. Jungwon snapped his hips a few more times before cumming inside you. He slowly pulled out of your now filled pussy and lay beside you, panting.

He slipped his arm around your waist and nuzzled his nose in your neck making you giggle. Jungwon stared at you with a look in his eyes, “I wouldn’t mind having a baby with you.” He suddenly said.

You stared at him back, “I mean, you did cum inside me.” It was silent for a few moments before you both burst out giggling.

“I love you, Jungwon.” You whispered. He hummed, his eyes slowly closing.

“I love you too.” He finally said. You felt a wave of happiness feeling your heartbeat quicken.

Eventually, you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence. It was a night that marked the beginning of something new, something beautiful, and you couldn't have been more grateful for it.

taglist: @laylasbunbunny @umsivsworld @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @yoongisbaguetteshoes @enhypenlovre @melancholy-z @minghaosimp @dudewhoism @honeychocos @hearts4hee @tlnyjoong @1013club @yagsoobin @mrsjohnnysuh @heekilrvs @enhasrii @prettygurlnikittie @jakeswifez @yunhoswrldddd @seokseokjinkim @whateverhoon @noturmommasstuff @love4hee @ddeonuu4me @selleprotection @jenn-ieverse @babyy-bambii @nikiswifiee @rjssierjrie

[just-aake]

Detecting Love Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?

Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 5171

Natasha Romanoff lies.

Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.

Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.

A charming smile here. A flirty wink there. 

Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.

Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.

With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.

Then, she met you.

With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.

For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.

The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.

Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.

As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.

As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.” 

Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.

Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.

You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.

The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.

She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.

Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers. 

This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence. 

A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time. 

Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.

You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction. 

With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.

It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.

Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.

“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”

“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”

You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.

As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.

“Y/n!” he calls excitedly. 

His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.

Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.

“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”

Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.

The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.

“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”

“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.

Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.

“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.

“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”

The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.

She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day. 

You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.

“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.

Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.

“I—”

But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view. 

“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action. 

Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.

But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.

“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”

A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.” 

He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod. 

“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”

Of course, she knows that. 

You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up. 

The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.

A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.

“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face. 

“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.

Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”

“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”

Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.

Your ex-fiancée 

Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.

“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.

Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.

“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”

Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.

“Why are you looking for Y/n?” 

Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.

“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.

Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.

With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.

“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word. 

Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.

As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.

I’m on the way to your office with your ex.

A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.

?!?!?

“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.

Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.

With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth. 

“She’s my girlfriend.”

An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you. 

Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.

“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures. 

Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again. 

“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”

The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again. 

Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses. 

However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.

Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator. 

“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.

At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.

"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"

Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.

"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.

The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor. 

Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.

“Did you tell her often?”

“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question. 

Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”

“Oh, um, kind of,” she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot.”

The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.

“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.

Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word. 

Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.

The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.

Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.

Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”

You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.

“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”

Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.

“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.

Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.

You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.

As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.

“I’ll just wait over there.”

Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes. 

When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”

Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.

Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”

Natasha sighs and shakes her head.

“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to. 

Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head. 

“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”

A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion. 

However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.

“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.

You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.

“It’s a date.”

As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.

You give her a questioning look in confusion.

“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly. 

Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”

Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.

“Put it on,” she says plainly.

You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.

“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.

“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.

A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.

“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.

“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans. 

Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.

“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.

Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.

“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.

You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.

“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 

As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.

However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side. 

Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.

A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.

“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.

Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.

Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.

Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”

She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.

“Protective, are we?”

Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile. 

You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing. 

“Ready to get started?” you ask. 

Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you. 

She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder. 

With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.

Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.

“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it. 

Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s. 

His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.

“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.

Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.

“Who let him in here?”

Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”

Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.

“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”

A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”

The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.

Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her. 

“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.

Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.

“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”

Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.

“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.

Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment. 

Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.

You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.

Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.

As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.

Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.

“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.

Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?

You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.

“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.

Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.

Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.

As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.

Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”

Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you. 

If only you could hear it from her for once.

Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.

“I lo—”

Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss. 

Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers. 

Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away. 

“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence. 

That’s when Natasha sees it.

The fear in your eyes.

“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously. 

You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you. 

“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.” 

You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile. 

“Except for that one time.”

Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.

The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.

Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it. 

The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.

“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”

You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”

You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry. 

The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.

“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.

You give her a confused look at her words.

“Wh-what?”

Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”

Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.

“No,” you answer in confusion.

Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”

She tilts her head at you in question.

“Am I lying?” she asks again.

Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud. 

“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”

“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.

Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words. 

You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”

Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.

“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words. 

“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”

You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile. 

“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”

She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”

A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.

“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.

Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.

The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you. 

It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.

Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.

Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.

That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!

[vunblr]

The Memory Remains

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: An unexpected encounter brings Bucky face-to-face with someone from his past, stirring memories he thought were long buried.

Word Count: About 13k.

note: Let’s pretend the incident with Renata never happened. Bucky's presence at Pierce’s house is a bit more lenient for the sake of this story.

The Winter Soldier moved through his assignments like a shadow. So, when he was stationed at Pierce's home for a week, he was given explicit instructions: remain masked, both arms concealed under a layer of clothing and stay out of sight as much as possible, but if seen, remain silent, a faceless piece of security.

On his first day, he heard voices down the hall before he saw them, a child’s laughter, paired with a softer, patient tone. The child -a boy around five or six- bounded into view, dragging a toy truck and blissfully oblivious to the stranger cloaked in shadows. But the woman with him was different; she immediately caught sight of him. She looked surprised but quickly cast her eyes down as she guided the boy past.

Pierce’s strict warning echoed in her mind. He explained that his guest was part of a high-security detail, trained to avoid all unnecessary contact, just another eccentric demand of his government work.

New to America, Y/n had recently left her home country after a severe burnout as a lawyer and the lingering shadow of an abusive relationship. She managed to pay a year’s rent in advance with her savings, but reality quickly slapped her in the face when she began looking for a job. Now in her late twenties, she had no experience outside a desk or courtroom with foreign laws.

This job as a nanny was the first real opportunity she’d found, and she took it. The pay was excellent, and the boy’s parents were kind. With an arrangement between Pierce and his son, she spent part of each day with the child at Pierce’s apartment after kindergarten until his parents picked him up after work, which was conveniently close by. In the two months she’d worked for the Pierces, she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary in the house, so the appearance of a security guard was an unexpected twist.

She understood the "no interaction" rule well enough; her brother had worked in federal law enforcement before he passed, so she knew about the necessity of concealing the asset's identity and the formality of the job. Yet, habit got the best of her. She’d nod or offer a polite “good afternoon” when she arrived and a quiet “see you” when she left. Sometimes she’d even throw out a casual comment about the weather or crack a joke, knowing she wouldn’t get a response. His silence was a norm, his blue gaze drilled into an inexistent point in the horizon. By the third day, she found herself relaxing into the new routine, no longer unnerved by the silent figure lurking in the house. She resumed her usual activities while the child napped: baking small snacks for when he woke up, or sitting at the kitchen table with her crochet project in hand. She even started putting on a playlist mostly with songs from her home country, the soft, lively tunes filling the quiet rooms.

Sometimes, when she baked treats for the boy, she’d make a few extras, placing them on a surface near the man in the shadows. Her brother had told her enough stories about hours on guard, the hunger and thirst that crept in with the silence. This was her small way of saying I know the circumstances -Though she didn’t. Oh, she didn’t even scratch the surface of his circumstances.- “You can take it later when you are alone.” She had offered quietly.

The first time, the food sat untouched for hours, and she thought he’d rejected the gesture entirely. But eventually, the plate was empty, and she could swear the right pocket of his tactical pants looked slightly stuffed. Taking it as a sign, she continued doing it, sometimes offering a simple piece of fruit, or a chocolate if she hadn’t bake. Each time, the plate ended up empty, and his pocket looked just a little bulkier.

Unbeknownst to her, one song in her playlist seemed to provoke a reaction in the stoic custody. Its melody -a blend of mid-1900s music with a modern twist- stirred something faint and unreachable within him, persistent enough to catch his attention. Each time the tune played on shuffle, his gaze would flicker in her direction, his brows knitting slightly as if he were straining to recall a memory just out of reach. And yet, she remained blissfully unaware, humming along.

After a week, he was gone. The masked figure had simply vanished from Pierce’s house as if he’d never been there at all.

-----

Nearly nine years had passed since that afternoon when Bucky threw himself from the helicarrier into the water to rescue Steve, somehow re-emerging as a fugitive from Hydra’s grasp. Since then, there had been one chaotic chapter after another, ending in a shaky kind of freedom and a conditional pardon. He’d been granted the basics of a civilian life -even if he wasn’t sure what to do with it-, a place to live, and the requirement to attend therapy sessions. 

One night, after a familiar nightmare left him panting, staring hollow-eyed into the bathroom mirror, his gaze settled on his hair. It hung long and unkempt, framing his face with shadows from another life, a reminder of missions in the dead of night, of orders he’d had no choice but to follow. His reflection stared back, haunted, tethered to the past.

Cut it, a voice urged inside him, low and insistent. Shedding the hair felt like severing the ties still binding him to memories and missions he wanted gone. His hand moved instinctively, reaching for the familiar weight of his knife, the same one he’d carried for years, an extension of who he’d once been. But he hesitated, his fingers hovering over the blade. If he was serious about moving forward, this had to be more than just an impulsive cut in the dead of night. It had to be his choice, deliberate and clear, reclaiming himself one small step at a time. He’d find a hairdresser, endure the closeness, the touching, the vulnerability of someone holding sharp scissors near him, and let it be a test. A small, tangible proof that he could start anew, piece by piece.

The next morning, he stood outside a shop, the nearest to his apartment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, wrestling with the urge to turn and walk away.

He lingered on the sidewalk, eyeing the parlor's weathered sign and chipped paint. Its old, familiar look was oddly reassuring as if the place had been untouched by time. That decided it for him. He scratched his beard and stepped forward, and as the door chimed overhead, he knew there was no going back now. Behind the chair, an old man was trimming the hair of a customer nearly as old, both with the unmistakable air of a veteran. The barber gave him a polite nod, but Bucky didn’t miss the shared look between the two: a quick, appraising glance that seemed to mutter, hippie motherfucker.

“Y/n!” the old barber called, his voice rising as he looked toward the back room. “You have a customer.”

The moment Bucky heard a woman’s name, he froze. An image of an elderly lady popped into his mind: chatty, distracted, and maybe with a knack for giving creative haircuts. He could already hear Sam’s laughter echoing in his head if he came out of this with some uneven cut or something worse.

“Well, actually…” he began, trying to backpedal, but his retreat stalled when she appeared in the doorway. She wasn’t old, far from it. And attractive. Very attractive. His mind blanked as he stood there, frozen, just staring.

The old man caught his hesitation and cast a pointed look his way, a touch more disapproving than before. The customer in the chair joined in, nodding in silent agreement.

“Well, young man?” the barber asked, his voice gruffer now. “You gonna stand there or sit?”

Bucky cleared his throat, murmuring, “I… thought you were the barber.” His voice was low, almost defensive, as he looked between the old man and the woman.

Her eyebrow quirked high, clearly amused, while the old barber scoffed. “What? because she’s a woman?” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Kid, I’m pretty sure she can handle that hippie mane of yours better than I ever could.”

The man in the chair gave a quiet chuckle, nodding in agreement, and Bucky’s mouth went dry. This was not the quick, anonymous cut he’d imagined. But there was no turning back now; he could feel three sets of eyes on him, each waiting for his move.

So, with a quick breath, he took off his jacket, walked over, and sank into the chair, stealing a glance at her reflection in the mirror.

She got closer from behind, amused by the fact that he already sat on the chair. “So, what are we doing today?” her tone was professional, though her eyes sparkled with a hint of curiosity.

He cleared his throat, shifting slightly on the seat. “Just… cut it short. Something easy to manage.” He answered gruffly.

She nodded, assessing the length of his hair. “Alright, but I must wash it first since it's this long. Sprinkling it with water won’t be enough.”

He blinked, a hint of tension flashing across his face. The thought of sitting there, head tilted back, felt almost unbearably vulnerable, especially with her so close, and her hands threading through his hair. He nearly reconsidered, but the not-so-subtly narrowed gazes of the two older men lingering on him kept him in place.

With a quiet sigh, he managed to make a nod. “Fine.” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She gestured for him to follow, and he found himself standing and trailing behind her to the hair-washing station in the back. Every instinct screamed to keep his guard up, but his need to change this physical marker of his past kept him moving.

As they reached the back, Bucky’s eyes landed on her phone, resting near a small speaker that hummed with soft, melodic tunes. At first, he barely noticed the music since he was too focused on the discomfort of the situation and strengthening his resolve to not get up and leave. His shoulders stayed tense as he sat, hovering on the edge of the chair, every part of him coiled with instinctive caution.

Then, the warmth of the water broke over his scalp, and against his will, he felt the tension start to dissolve, just a little. Her touch was gentle, no sudden movements, just a calm, practiced rhythm as she applied the shampoo, working it through his hair. She didn’t say a word, either; it was as though she understood something of the guarded edge to him, or maybe she sensed that he wouldn’t welcome small talk.

A few beats into the quiet, the song changed. It was still low and unassuming, just background noise. But then the melody drifted in, a tune with an old rhythm and a foreign lyric, hauntingly familiar, and his attention flickered, drawn in by the music without him fully understanding why. His eyes closed briefly, and fragments of memory teased at the edges of his mind: a dim hallway, shadows, the scent of baking, and the quiet hum of a woman’s voice.

Before he could grasp it, the memory slipped away, leaving only the echo of familiarity, a ghost of something he almost remembered.

As she massaged his scalp, the tension that had gripped Bucky’s shoulders melted away. The steady, gentle pressure lulled him into a rare calm, his body betraying him with a warmth that crept over him like a slow wave. For the first time in a long time, he felt close to letting his guard down entirely, the comfort of her touch drawing him into an almost sleepy haze.

Then she reached for the conditioner, her hands moving with the same unhurried ease, but this time, she couldn’t quite keep from humming along to the song that played softly from the speaker nearby. Her voice was low, almost shy, as though she hadn’t meant for anyone to hear. But as she sang, each note seemed to tighten a thread in his chest, snapping him out of the drowsy trance.

Then it hit him like a punch to the gut.

The music, her voice, the way her fingers worked through his hair, it all brought him back to Pierce’s household, to those days he spent stationed in the shadows, monitoring everything in silence before the events of his escape. The faint aroma of something sweet drifting through the house, of cookies, or bread, something good, something he hadn’t expected to find. He could still feel the strange weight of those illicit treats in his pocket, things she’d left out in silent offering, her small, unspoken kindness filling a gap he hadn’t known was there.

This woman... could it be?

His breathing grew shallow, each breath catching in his chest as a faint tremor ran through him. His gloved hands twitched against the armrests, fingers curling and uncurling as he fought the urge to reach up, to pull himself upright and turn, to really look at her. He needed to see her face, to study her features and search for that glimpse of familiarity, to confirm that this wasn’t just some blurred, mismatched memory dredged up by the lull of her voice and the warmth of her hands. Worse yet, he needed to know this wasn’t some fragment of imagination, a scene conjured by his mind to taunt him with memories he couldn’t piece together. But before he could move, she stopped singing, her hands paused in his hair and he felt her hesitate, as if sensing his restlessness even though he hadn’t said a word.

“The wash is almost done,” she murmured, her voice quiet but steady, as if offering reassurance.

She inwardly groaned, mortified. Why on earth did she start singing? Way to scare off a customer, she scolded herself when she sensed his body tense beneath her hands. And of course, it happened with a handsome customer. She could feel the rush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, flooding her cheeks. Taking a steady breath, she forced herself to refocus, working to rinse the last of the conditioner as quickly as she could, her hands moving just a bit more briskly than before. Okay, finish up and keep it professional, she coached herself, feeling the sting of humiliation all over again.

As she finished rinsing the conditioner from his hair, she reached for a nearby towel. Without a second thought, still reliving the horror of exposing herself like that, she wrapped it around his head, gently pressing to soak up the excess water. Bucky barely registered the texture, just the warmth that enveloped him, and the unspoken relief of having her hands finally out of his hair.

“Alright,” she said softly, stepping back. “We’re done here. Just head back to the front, and I’ll set you up for the cut.”

He rose from the chair a bit unsteadily, as though waking from a daze, and started toward the front of the shop, acutely aware of every step. He glanced sideways at her once, catching a hint of embarrassment lingering on her face, her gaze darting away when she noticed him looking. Something about her bashful expression twisted a new thread of familiarity through his mind, but he shook it off, trying to steady himself.

As he reached the main area, he caught his reflection in the mirror opposite the chair and froze. Wrapped around his head, neatly turbaned and unmistakably bright, was a fluffy pink towel.

The old barber glanced up from the new customer he was tending to, his gaze settling on Bucky’s reflection with poorly concealed bemusement. "Good lord, Cecil, look how things have changed," he muttered dryly only for the other old man to hear, unaware of Bucky’s enhanced hearing.

The other old man, Cecil, leaned back, shaking his head with a smirk. “Used to be, folks would at least keep that kind of thing under wraps,” he muttered, his voice low but pointed. “Remember Karen’s brother? Now there was a guy who kept things to himself, blended right in,” he muttered with a knowing glance at Bucky.

Bucky gritted his teeth, faintly aware of heat climbing up his neck, but he forced himself to keep a straight face. He was determined to get through this without snapping. His reflection caught his attention again, and he let out an almost inaudible sigh.

Behind him, Y/n approached, unaware of the old men ranting. She held a bunch of hairpins in one hand and a comb in the other, gesturing toward the chair in front of the mirror. “Whenever you’re ready”.

As Bucky settled into the chair, his gaze drifted to the handful of hairpins she was holding, and cleared his throat, struggling to keep his tone steady. “Uh, I thought I asked for it short,” he murmured, nodding toward the pins and comb with a faint frown.

She didn’t miss a beat, propping a hand on her hip with a half-smile. “And I thought you might like it to look decent,” she quipped, raising a brow in the mirror. “To get it even, I’ve got to section it out first, or you’ll end up with a patchy disaster.”

She worked with quiet focus, her fingers weaving through his hair, clipping sections with colorful pins until his head was dotted with bright little half-buns. Bucky’s jaw clenched as his gaze drifted somewhere distant, the rhythmic tug of the comb stirring faint, elusive memories. He barely registered the chime of the door until the soft shuffle of footsteps and murmured greetings filled the air.

Two more elderly men ambled in, one clutching a checkers game under his arm. They greeted Frank the old barber, then his client casually, and lastly waved affectionately toward Y/n, who acknowledged them with a smile. As their eyes landed on Bucky, they paused, taking in his partially pinned-up hair, the bright clips dotting his head. They shared a wordless look of faint, unspoken disapproval, the kind only those with a few extra decades under their belts could master.

Bucky tightened his jaw again, pressing his tongue against his inner cheek, as he caught the old men’s exchanged looks. What, was this some kind of veteran association headquarters or something? He’d endured enough stares over the years, but the situation's absurdity hit a new level. If only they knew he was older than all of them. The irony almost made him laugh -or maybe just get up and walk out.- But he forced himself to stay put, keeping his gaze fixed on his reflection as if nothing at all were out of the ordinary, while she worked steadily, oblivious to the silent standoff between him and the retirement brigade.

As she started to cut with the scissors, couldn't resist trying to break the tension that clung to him like a second skin. “So, how long did it take you to grow this out?” she ventured, her tone light, eyes focused on his hair.

Bucky made a vague grunt, somewhere between polite acknowledgment and indifference. “Couple years,” he muttered, the words barely escaping his mouth as his gaze flicked to her face again.

Trying not to stare, he let his eyes drift down, but they always found their way back to her. As she moved around him, carefully and practiced, the cadence of her movements, and the subtle kindness in her tone, all painted a picture in his mind. The woman from Pierce’s household, he was certain of it now.

She tilted her head thoughtfully as she continued cutting, her eyes briefly meeting his in the mirror. “Going short can feel like a fresh start,” she remarked, her voice casual yet reassuring. “Sometimes, it’s about more than just hair, it’s like letting go of whatever it held onto. It happens a lot.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked up, catching her gaze in the mirror before he could stop himself. There was a beat of silence as her words seemed to settle over him, hitting a little closer than he’d expected.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice low, almost as if speaking to himself. “That’s… kind of the point.”

She met his gaze again, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes, but she didn’t press him. She just nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting into a gentle smile. “Well,” she said softly, her hands resuming their steady rhythm with the scissors, “then let’s make sure we do it right.”

Eventually, she paused the trimming, assessing the hair’s new length with a critical eye. “Alright,” she said, lifting the electric clipper with a raised brow. “Any specific style you want, or…?”

Bucky met her gaze in the mirror, hesitating just for a moment. If he knew anything about styles, he might’ve had an opinion, but all he cared about was the fresh start he’d come here for. “Just… short,” he replied, his tone firm but with a hint of uncertainty.

She nodded, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Got it,” she said, setting to work. The clippers buzzed to life, and as she deftly worked them through the remaining length, Bucky let himself drift, trusting her to handle the rest. By the time she stepped back to survey her work, he barely recognized his own reflection; shorter, cleaner, a stark shift from the man he’d tried so hard to leave behind.

As she brushed his shoulders for stray hairs, the old men ambled back to the front, their voices rising in a familiar, lively argument about the weapons used in the Vietnam War.

“I’m telling you, the M16 was practically useless in those conditions,” one of them grumbled, shaking his head as if reliving the frustration.

“Oh, don’t start with that again,” the other scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “The M14 was a good rifle but couldn’t match the firepower.”

Bucky couldn’t help himself. “There were issues with both models,” he interjected, his voice steady and sure. The men turned, eyebrows raised as he continued, “M16’s jamming problems, and the M14’s recoil, that didn’t make it any easier in the jungle.”

One of them raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. “So, you a collector or something, son? Not many people remember those details.”

Bucky paused, weighing his words. He shot them a sideways glance, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

“Nah,” he replied, his voice low. “Just... good memory.”

It was all he said, but the weight behind it was enough to hold their gaze for a moment longer than either man expected.

She watched them leave, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips before she turned back to Bucky, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Well, would you look at that,” she said, amused yet curious. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you join in the shop banters so soon. Well, there you go,” she said, stepping back. “Sharp as ever.” She reached over to grab his jacket from the hook, handing it to him with a small, encouraging smile that held a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages.

Bucky gave her a faint nod and took his jacket, slipping it on. “Thanks,” he muttered, feeling her eyes on him as he reached for the door.

As Bucky left the parlor after his haircut, the chill in the evening air prickled against his skin, grounding him in the present but doing little to quiet the memories that kept surfacing. Each step felt like shaking off a shadow of something long gone, something buried. He told himself, firmly, that she was just another person from his past, a woman who once showed him kindness in a place that had none. It shouldn’t mean anything.

But over the next few days, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d left something unresolved. Her presence haunted him in a way, not in the sharp, painful fragments of his past but in small, lingering echoes. He remembered the sound of her quiet humming when she thought no one was listening, the soft click of plates, and the surprising warmth of the treats she’d left for him, knowing he might never touch them. She had looked at him, masked and silent, like he was a person, not just a thing covered in shadows.

A few days later, in session, his therapist caught on to his distracted state. She didn’t exactly push, but she revisited the topic they’d been circling for weeks: reconnecting with people, finding his place outside the shadows of his past. Her advice was calm, grounded, and compassionate, but it nagged at him as much as it reassured him. Connection. Yeah, right.

Then, one afternoon, his phone buzzed. It was Sam. He was doing outreach work in the neighborhood, trying to connect local veterans with PTSD resources. “Look, I could use a hand with some pamphlets,” Sam said, in a way that didn’t leave much room for negotiation. “Some old-timers hang around that parlor you mentioned. I think they’d be more open to it if you dropped these off.”

Despite his reluctance, Bucky ended up agreeing. Maybe he needed to see her again to put the memories finally to rest.

When Bucky stepped back into the parlor, pamphlets clutched in his hand, the faint scent of aftershave and coffee grounded hit him. Frank was busy with a client, and Y/n was at the counter, writing something down in a small notebook. She looked up when the door chimed, her gaze settling on him with a flicker of recognition, the kind that carries just a hint of surprise.

Bucky cleared his throat and handed some pamphlets to Frank, who glanced at them with a barely concealed frown. “What is this, some new-age help group thing?” Frank muttered though he took them anyway.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam walked in behind him, a wide grin plastered on his face. He slapped Bucky on the shoulder with an ease that Bucky envied. “Hey, pal, didn’t know you’d actually do it,” Sam said, casting a friendly nod to the old-timers who regarded him with wary interest.

The veterans, having heard the conversation, perk up. “What’s this?” one of them asked, and Sam jumped in, explaining with his usual charm about the outreach work for veterans, PTSD resources, and community support. Bucky stood back, feeling the walls around him starting to rise, the familiar urge to retreat coming over him. But then he caught her watching him. He returned her gaze, and suddenly it was as if no time had passed. She was the same woman who used to hum softly in a house that held no warmth.

Before he knew it, Frank was muttering about “newfangled therapy and pamphlets” while the veterans grumbled, though one of them eventually accepted a flyer with a shrug. The moment felt absurd, but then, with a quiet laugh, she came to Bucky’s side. “Welcome back,” she says, with a soft voice and a suspicious pink tone on her cheeks.

Bucky cleared his throat, barely meeting her gaze. "Hi. Just, uh, helping Sam here with these pamphlets." He gestured awkwardly at the handful still clutched in his grip as if that alone explained his return. But before he could slide into silence, she tilted her head, her brow creasing in curiosity.

"So… were you in the service, too?"

The question caught him off guard. His body stiffened, and for a moment, he considered deflecting. But then he took a short breath, steadying himself before speaking.

"Yeah. Sergeant… a long time ago.” The words came out almost hollow like he was not even talking about himself. “Feels like it, anyway.”

Her eyes roamed his face as if she was noticing the wear and ache behind his expression for the first time, but she didn’t press him for more.

Behind them, Frank’s sharp gaze flicked over Bucky, his usual squint softening just a touch. He straightened, nodding with something closer to respect, his gruffness replaced by a rare moment of understanding. Bucky felt it, too, the unspoken acknowledgment from one who’s seen their kind wear the years like scars. “Well,” Frank said, his voice a little less brusque, “good on you for helpin’ out.” He didn’t look directly at Bucky as he said it, but the words were meant for him all the same.

He nodded, unsure of what to say. The discomfort sat heavy, but there was a strange ease to it too, this small, unanticipated connection in a place that felt both foreign and familiar.

Her smile grew softer as she met his gaze again “Guess we’ll be seeing you around, then, visiting the boys?”

Bucky shifted, glancing down with a faint nod. “Yeah. Maybe,” he muttered. Then he glanced back at Sam, who was deep in conversation with the veterans, seemingly in no rush to leave. He noticed the way Sam’s gaze occasionally flickered their way and caught the subtle grin playing at the corner of his mouth. To anyone else, it’d seem so, so casual, but he knew better, Sam was doing it on purpose.

Bucky shot him a glare, but Sam kept his focus on the other vets, though his eyes flickered with barely concealed amusement when he glanced back.

The silence stretched a little too long, and she cleared her throat, slipping behind the counter with practiced ease. “You know,” she said lightly, “if you’re waiting on your friend, might as well have a coffee. It’s on the house.”

Bucky’s eyes fell to the floor, and he hesitated just a second before nodding. “Sure. Thanks.”

As she moved to make the coffee, he leaned on the counter, his gloved hands resting awkwardly on its surface as she prepared a mug for him. Then, without warning, she reached under the counter and pulled out a green tupperware, popping the lid to reveal neatly cut slices of pasta frola. The sight caught him off guard, his brows furrowing as a faint but vivid memory flickered to life, the faint smell of jam in the kitchen, the delicate pastry offered to him wrapped in a paper napkin, so his pocket wouldn’t get stained.

She noticed his look and chuckled lightly, misreading his reaction. “Don’t worry, it’s just a family recipe. I swear it’s not poisoned.” She gave him a half-smile, nudging the container closer. “It’s filled with quince jam, it’s tangy but sweet. Hard to come by here in the States, I know. But... it’s worth a try.”

Bucky blinked, the memory lingering in his mind as he glanced from her to the slice of tart. Her familiar, easy demeanor was almost too much to brush off. “I’ve had it before,” he said quietly, more to himself than her, before reaching over and picking up a slice. The taste was startlingly similar, he didn’t realize how vividly he remembered it. “Pretty good,” he murmured, almost begrudgingly. But before he could stop himself, a flicker of raw emotion tightened in his chest, and he felt the familiar sting of tears prickling at his eyes.

He turned away quickly, bracing himself against the counter, willing for the feeling to pass. He couldn’t explain it if he tried, not to her, not even to himself. A stray laugh reached him from across the room, and he forced himself to breathe, grounding his focus back on the sound of Sam’s voice, on the distant grunting of the men, anything to steady him.

Her voice broke through the moment, her tone warm and light as she cleaned up the counter beside him. “Well, if you like it, there’s plenty more where that came from,” she said with a playful smile. “The ‘boys’ practically fight over the last slice every time. You should see them, it’s like watching kids in a schoolyard,” she laughed softly, wiping down the counter. “I swear, I’ve had to start hiding an extra plate in the back just to keep up the peace.”

She glanced over at him, still unaware of his reaction, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “So, no pressure, but if you plan on sticking around here, you’ll have to stake your claim early.” Her voice was so light and easy, almost teasing as if sharing a small, harmless secret. It was as if she’d drawn him into some familiar, warm rhythm without even realizing it.

Bucky managed to make a nod, keeping his face averted until he was sure he was composed. Only then did he turn back, giving her a quick, curt nod. “Thanks. It… brings back memories,” he said, his voice steadier now, though the weight of those memories lingered in the quiet pause that followed.

“Oh?” She tilted her head, her eyes bright with curiosity. “I hope good memories?” Her smile was warm, perhaps imagining a grandmother’s kitchen or a friendly neighbor’s table, after all, it was rare for an American to have tried this kind of tart.

Bucky’s mouth curved into a faint, thin smile as he met her gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away again. “Something like that,” he replied, with a carefully neutral tone, edged with something unreadable. He lifted the coffee mug, taking a slow sip, hoping the gesture would gently close the conversation.

Before she could respond, the door chime sounded, and a man in his late thirties strolled into the shop with an air of easy familiarity. His gaze landed on her, his expression shifting into something smug and self-assured as he greeted her by name. His eyes lingered a little too long, sliding over her outfit in a way that barely bothered to conceal his interest.

Her posture stiffened, but she managed to smile, nodding his way. “Hey, Brian. Frank will be back in a few if you’d rather wait.”

Brian chuckled dismissively as he made his way to the chair. “Nah, it’s just a maintenance cut. I don’t need Frank for that.” He settled in, leaning back with a casual grin. “Besides, I’d much rather have you take care of me. Your hands are way more skilled.”

“Right…” She gave him a thin smile. Glancing at Bucky, she excuses herself from his side and heads over to tend to Brian.

As she set up her tools, Brian leaned back in the chair, angling himself to keep her in his line of sight. “Looking good today,” he said, his tone dropping slightly as he studied her reflection in the mirror. “Gotta say, it makes my day to come in and see you here.”

She responded with a brief, neutral laugh, brushing off his comment as she began trimming his hair. “Just here to make sure you’re looking sharp.”

Bucky stayed a little longer by the counter, pretending to be absorbed in his coffee. But his eyes flicked up occasionally, catching the exchange in the mirror’s reflection.

Watching him quietly eating the last bite of tart at the counter, Brian smirked, leaning back in the chair with a lazy grin. “You know,” he drawled, gazing at her intently, “One of these days, I’ll have to get my mouth on that pie of yours.” The words were laced with an unmistakable undertone, his gaze lingering on her as if testing the waters.

Her hand stopped just for a fraction of a second before she responded, a quick, professional smile in place. “Well, I’ll let you know if I ever start taking special orders.” Her words were smooth and dismissive, sidestepping his implication with practiced ease.

Bucky’s fingers tightened around his mug. Was this modern flirting? He found himself suppressing the urge to remind Brian of a little respect. But with what right exactly? Some possessive urge rooted over a long-ago act of kindness? They’d barely exchanged a handful of words, words that, by the way, he could hardly string. Still, he couldn’t shake a barely contained irritation that crept inside him, a feeling both unfamiliar and too familiar all at once.

Brian’s flirting continued, his tone growing bolder as he lounged in the chair, eyes fixed on her as she tried to maintain her professional composure. Eventually, Bucky’s patience snapped.

He placed his mug down with a soft clink, rising to his full height and striding over, casting a long shadow across the two of them.

With a calm, steely edge to his voice, he focused his gaze on her. “Well, sweetheart, I’ve got some things to take care of with Sam. But I can’t wait to see you in that dress later.”

She blinked, her scissors pausing mid-snip as she processed what he’d just said. Then, catching on to the improvisation, she broke into a warm smile, tilting her head with a look of mock apology toward Brian before turning fully to Bucky.

“Oh, of course! Can’t wait to see you too, handsome.” she replied, adding a playful lilt to her voice. And without missing a beat, she tiptoed up, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, her hand resting on his shoulder for a bit of extra effect.

Brian’s smile faltered, his expression shifting to one of discomfort as he glanced away, the bravado vanishing from his eyes.

Bucky turned smoothly, not sparing Brian a single glance as he made his way over to Sam, his steps calm and unhurried. The entire shop seemed to hold its breath, caught in the aftermath of the exchange. Sam looked at him with a quirked brow, and Frank… just narrowed his gaze. Has something been going on under his nose with this redeemed hippie and he didn’t know about it?

Meanwhile, she could barely keep her thoughts straight. Her heart pounded wildly, a thousand questions firing off in her mind as she mentally replayed what had just happened. First, the shock that Bucky had stepped in at all, with that calm authority that had left Brian squirming. Then, there was how effortlessly he’d delivered his line, so convincingly she almost believed it herself. And finally... God, the way he smelled when she leaned up to kiss him. Cedar, leather, and masculinity. She could still feel the trace warmth of his lean, muscular shoulder beneath her hand.

Had she overdone it? The kissing, the touching… she wasn’t sure, though part of her almost wished it had been real. She bit her lip, determined to focus on the task at hand as Brian shifted uncomfortably in the chair, his earlier smugness replaced by an awkward silence.

Bucky reached Sam, who glanced up with a grin as he passed over the stack of pamphlets. “So… all this time you had a girlfriend and didn’t say a word, Tinman? That is low, even for you” Sam teased under his breath, low enough that only Bucky could hear.

“No, I didn’t.” Bucky muttered; his jaw tight but the faintest hint of a smirk breaking through. He didn’t meet Sam’s gaze, he kept his eyes on the pamphlets, straightening them a bit too intently.

-----

A month had passed since that unusual afternoon in the shop. Today, with the sun warm and inviting, she had settled on a park bench, her fingers skillfully crocheting yarn into neat, colorful granny squares. The sunlight caught the vivid hues, making them seem to glow against her lap, and she was fully absorbed in her work.

Bucky was passing through the park on his way home, hands stuffed in his pockets, mind preoccupied with thoughts stirred up from a grueling therapy session. But then he saw her, sitting just across the path. The sight brought him to a sudden halt. There she was, peaceful and intent on her project, just as she’d been all those years ago. Back then, he’d only dared to steal quick, curious glances, a silent observer bound by his handler’s whims. But today, seeing her absorbed in those same small stitches, he felt an undeniable urge to bridge the distance between them. It took him a moment to remind himself that he was free to walk over, to break the silence himself. He took a breath, then walked toward her.

When his shadow fell over her work, she looked up, eyes widening with recognition. “Oh!” she said, surprised, but quickly smiled, recovering from the initial shock. “Hey, stranger.”

He felt a small, tentative smile come through despite himself. “Hey,” he murmured. His gaze flickered down to the granny squares arranged on her lap. “I’m interrupting? You just looked focused.”

She chuckled, lifting the half-formed square to show him. “Not at all; it’s my therapy, I guess. Helps me unwind.” Then, after a beat, she patted the space beside her. “Want to join me for a bit?”

He hesitated briefly before nodding. “Yeah… yeah, I’d like that.” He sat down, the air between them comfortable but charged, a quiet warmth settling over them.

For a moment, neither spoke, just content to share the quiet. Then, she glanced over at him. “You know, I never got the chance to thank you properly… for that day at the parlor, it meant a lot.”

He looked up, a hint of surprise in his expression, then shrugged slightly, a modest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t need thanking. But… you’re welcome.”

She smiled back, and that gesture eased something tense in his chest. He swallowed, gathering his thoughts, his fingers tracing the line of his glove. The moment felt right, and finally, he broke the silence, his voice a little hoarse. “There’s, uh… something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” He glanced down at his hands, his thumb stilling over his gloved palm. “If… if you’ve got some time.”

She paused, looking at him with a hint of curiosity, her hands resting on her project. “Of course.”

He sighed, the sound heavy as if exhaling years of hesitation. Slowly, deliberately, he began tugging at the glove on his left hand, peeling it off to reveal the metallic gleam beneath. The sun's soft light caught on the intricate panels and joints, giving the hand an almost otherworldly sheen.

Her hands stilled, the yarn forgotten in her lap. Her eyes widened briefly as she took it in. At first, she assumed it was just a particularly advanced prosthesis. But then he flexed his fingers, the subtle, fluid movement far too precise, too seamless for any ordinary piece of tech. And then everything clicked. She’d seen that hand -arm- before, on news reports and grainy footage, the infamous name whispered in fear, The Winter Soldier. But alongside that news had been another truth: the revelation that he’d been a victim, conditioned to act against his will. A mere puppet of Hydra’s schemes. A human pet trained to secure their darkest ambitions.

Her gaze softened, a mix of understanding and quiet sorrow replacing her initial shock. She didn’t flinch or retreat. Instead, she studied his face, the way his jaw tensed, his shoulders bracing as if he expected her to pull away. She hesitated, her hand hovering over his for a moment before gently resting on his vibranium fingers. “Why are you showing me this?”

He stared at her hand, where it lay against his as if the touch was foreign to him, something he didn’t know how to accept. Finally, he sighed, the weight of the confession evident in the way his shoulders slumped. “Because,” he began, his voice low, “almost nine years ago, you worked as a nanny for a family that went by Pierce.”

Her brow furrowed, surprised that he’d brought up something from so long ago, and puzzled by how he could possibly know. Only a handful of people had ever been in that apartment, and none of them had been a man with a metal arm.

“How… how do you know that?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, though a thousand questions began swirling in her mind.

“They told you I was security detail,” he said, watching her closely. “Some faceless bodyguard lurking in the shadows. Except it wasn’t exactly… just that.” His voice softened, a hint of remorse lacing each word.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to connect the dots. She then remembered the quiet figure who’d kept to the periphery, masked, his posture rigid and controlled, his entire presence veiled in secrecy. His silence had unnerved her at first, but soon, it had become as much a part of the background as the furniture in the apartment. “You’re… that was… you were…” The realization dawned slowly, her hand involuntarily covering her mouth as the pieces slid into place.

He nodded, not breaking eye contact. “I couldn’t say anything back then. Couldn’t even… react on my own accord. But I remember you. I remember the little things you did. The treats you left, the music… your hobby.” His gaze fell briefly to her hands, where her current project lay forgotten. “It was… one of the only kindnesses I knew, back then.”

She stared, absorbing the weight of his confession, piecing together the faint memories of that silent figure in the shadows, the one she’d tried to reach in small, gentle ways. The realization that the man in front of her, the Winter Soldier, was him left her feeling as though a veil had lifted, revealing a hidden, tragic depth.

“So… you were there, but you weren’t allowed to… be you,” she said softly, the words tumbling out as she tried to grasp it all.

“Yeah,” he murmured, almost a sigh. “There’s a lot of shit I’m still sorting through, but… I couldn’t shake the thought of telling you. What you did back then,” he paused, his voice dipping to a whisper, “it meant more to me than you know.”

She looked down, her heart catching at the sincerity in his words. Before she could respond, he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with a bit of hesitation.

“Look,” he started, and she noticed his ears had turned a faint shade of red. “I, uh… don’t want to scare you off here. I get it if you think I’m coming on too strong, or if this seems… creepy.” He shifted, his gaze uncertain but still holding hers. “But I wanted to ask if maybe you’d like to… if you’d want to get a coffee sometime… or, I don’t know, maybe dinner?” A hint of nervousness flickered in his blue eyes, and he broke into a self-conscious grin. “Unless that sounds like a terrible idea, in which case, we could also just… feed some ducks in the park or something,” he said, a soft chuckle escaping him. ‘Feeding ducks? Do people still even do that?’

Seeing him tripping over his words made her heart skip. Smiling, she let the silence linger for just a moment before nodding. “I’d like that, whatever you’d prefer, coffee, dinner… or even feeding the ducks.”

Relief flooded his face, his shoulders relaxing. He chuckled, and for the first time, she saw a glimpse of someone who had spent far too long hidden behind walls, someone who was finally allowing himself a chance to live.

----------

Saturday’s sunset hadn’t even fully settled in when Bucky found himself pacing toward the parlor, nerves buzzing under his skin. This was his first proper date since 1943, and he felt like a high school boy. An awkward, brooding, traumatized, and scarred high school boy. Great, he thought, glancing up at the swirling clouds that promised rain, thunder echoing faintly from afar. He checked his reflection in a nearby window, adjusting his collar, brushing a hand through his hair. The frown he caught staring back only made him feel more ridiculous.

He stepped into the shop and spotted her immediately, busying herself around the place, her brow knit in concentration. She didn’t notice him at first, but when she finally looked up, her eyes lit up in surprise.

“Oh, hey,” she said, smiling wide as she took him in.

“Hey,” he replied, a little awkwardly, realizing he’d arrived early. Clearing his throat, he lifted the small bouquet he’d brought, feeling hopeful and self-conscious as he handed them over. “Uh… these are for you.”

She blinked, clearly touched. “Bucky… thank you. They’re beautiful.” She inhaled the scent, and he could have sworn he saw a soft glow in her cheeks. The simple gesture seemed to have landed, warming him from the inside out.

Frank, from behind the counter, watched the whole exchange, his usual skeptical gaze softening just a little at the sight of the flowers. For a moment, Bucky felt like he’d earned a point of approval from the old man.

Just then, another roll of thunder echoed in the distance, making her glance up at him with a teasing smile. “You think we’ll beat the storm?”

He held out his arm, “Guess we’ll find out,” he said with a lopsided grin, trying to keep his cool despite the nerves.

And with that, they headed out, stepping into the evening together, the storm chasing them as they walked to the nearby bistro.

The rain came down fast and thick, a relentless curtain that left them drenched within seconds. They huddled together under a small awning, Bucky grimacing as he realized he hadn’t even thought of bringing an umbrella -not that he owned one, anyway-. He glanced over at her, taking in the way her dress clung to her, soaked through, her hair starting to curl from the dampness. He raked a hand through his dripping hair, sighing.

“Didn’t see this coming,” he muttered, half to himself, half to her. “I’m… sorry.”

She blinked up at him, eyes wide and surprised. “Why are you apologizing for the weather?”

He shrugged, a sheepish look crossing his face. “Guess I feel like I should’ve been prepared.” He shifted uncomfortably, feeling a little foolish for not planning better. “I could… call you a cab? We can try for another night.”

She gave him a tentative smile, her cheeks a little pink. “Or… if you want, my place is just upstairs from the parlor. You’re already here, and it’s warm. We could dry off and… watch a movie? Order some dinner?”

Bucky blinked, a bit taken aback. The invitation tugged at something deep and old-fashioned inside him. A woman who lived alone, inviting her date to her house at night. But then again, times had changed, and so had he. He could feel the pull, that quiet, magnetic urge to spend a little more time in her company, and really, wasn’t that the whole point of tonight?

With a flicker of a smile, he nodded. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds nice,” he said, relaxing just a bit. He followed her through the rain-drenched streets, his boots splashing lightly in the shallow puddles until they reached the stairwell beside the parlor that led up to her apartment. She fumbled with her keys, glancing over her shoulder to flash him a quick, almost conspiratorial grin.

As they stepped inside, she chuckled, eyeing his soaked clothes. “I can get you some of Frank’s stuff to change into,” she offered, giving his drenched jacket a sympathetic look. “I do his laundry, so I’m sure we’ll find something that fits you. Just… don’t tell him.” She winked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Despite the cold clothes sticking to his skin, Bucky felt a warm chuckle bubble up. “I think I can keep a secret,” he said, playing along, his gaze lingering on her smile a second longer than he meant to. There, surrounded by warm, mismatched furniture and soft, inviting blankets, he felt something uncoil, like he was being welcomed into a place that felt… real, lived on.

"Sorry about the mess," she murmured, disappearing toward a small laundry room tucked around the corner.

Bucky gave a noncommittal grunt, his gaze following her despite himself. He tried to focus on anything else, but the soaked dress clung to every inch of her, tracing her silhouette in a way that made it impossible to look away. He found himself rooted to the spot, too aware of his heartbeat drumming harder than it should. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. Get a grip, he told himself. Standing there in a small puddle, he felt more out of place than ever, and yet, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be anywhere else.

She returned a moment later with a bundle of clothes in her hands, a pair of worn pants that looked like they’d sit loose and just shy of his ankles, along with a white tank top and a blue flannel. “It’ll do for now, though, fair warning, he’s got about half your shoulders, so don’t blame me if the fit’s a bit... weird.”

Bucky accepted the clothes, glancing at the pants with a wry smile. “Weird’s fine,” he mumbled, grateful for anything dry but wondering if he’d end up looking like he’d raided a teenager’s closet.

Her laughter was light as she stepped back. “I’ll give you a minute to get changed,” she said, nodding toward a corner of the room. Then, she grabbed a set of fresh clothes for herself, giving him a quick nod before slipping off to the bathroom.

Once alone, Bucky looked down at the makeshift outfit, a mixture of humor and nerves settling in. It was strange how easy she made things feel, and stranger still how much he found himself wanting to fit, if only for this evening.

Eventually, she emerged from the bathroom with a casual skirt and a matching blouse, feeling more at ease, until her gaze landed on Bucky. He was leaning against the window, looking out at the rain-soaked street, lost in thought. The borrowed pants hung low on his hips, but it was the white tank top that made her brain stutter. It clung to him in a way that left little to the imagination, stretched taut across his broad chest, outlining every defined line of muscle. She could even make out the slight press of his nipples through the fabric, a testament to the strain his frame put on the shirt that was clearly never made for him. She noticed the blue shirt he’d left folded on the table, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Couldn’t make the flannel work?”

Bucky glanced over, the corner of his mouth lifting in a self-conscious smirk. “Yeah… tried it,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t quite fit.”

She quickly averted her gaze, trying to mask the impure thoughts racing through her mind as she gestured toward the bulky cabinet under the TV. “So… movie or board game?”

Bucky’s gaze lingered on her for a beat, soaking in the warmth of her place, the easy coziness of being alone here with her. He felt a soft pull again, something that made him want to take another step closer, to reach out and… “Let’s play,” he murmured, his voice a bit rough. He gave her a slight smile. “Show me what you’ve got.”

They fell into the games as if nothing else existed. The hours slipped by unnoticed, each turn they took erasing a little more of the self-consciousness they’d started with. Laughter broke through the usual stillness of her living room, punctuated by playful jabs and shameless victory dances as they bickered over the rules and accused each other of cheating with an ease that felt familiar and comfortable.

At some point, she stopped worrying about how much she was watching him. It didn’t matter if her gaze lingered on the way his shoulders hunched with focus, or if she found herself distracted by the rare, soft chuckle he let slip when she pulled a fast one on him. And Bucky, for his part, began to let go of his usual reservations. Here, in her warm, cluttered living room with mismatched furniture and board game boxes stacked by the couch, he felt no need to carry the weight of conversation or second-guess every gesture. He didn’t need to measure himself against the usual question of what was “normal” or “appropriate.” He just… existed, slipping into her rhythm like it was second nature.

As the night wore on, they were sitting on the floor, engrossed in another game, the coffee table cluttered with pieces and cards. The mood had shifted from playful to fiercely competitive. Both of them were leaning forward, so focused on the game that they barely noticed how close they’d become.

Amid a particularly tense round, she reached forward quickly to snatch one of his pieces. Bucky, acting on pure instinct, grabbed her wrist to stop her. But when doing so, his grip was a little too forceful, and before either of them could react, she lost her balance. She lurched forward, crashing into the coffee table, her hands scrambling for purchase as she toppled over, knocking the game pieces everywhere.

Bucky froze, his eyes wide with shock as he realized what had happened. His heart raced as guilt and embarrassment washed over him.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted, his voice rough with panic. His hand hovered near her, unsure whether to touch her or give her space. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t think… are you okay?”

She sat up, a little dazed but unharmed. Her face flushed with the surprise of the fall, but she managed to smile softly, trying to ease the tension. “I’m fine. Really. Just… caught off guard.”

Bucky didn’t move from his spot, his entire body taut with self-reproach. He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze as he muttered more apologies. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to grab you like that.” His words tumbled over each other in a hurried mess.

Her eyes softened, and she quickly tried to reassure him, though she could see the genuine discomfort in his posture. “It’s fine,” she said calmly. “I’m alright, seriously. You didn’t hurt me.”

But Bucky wasn’t listening. The self-reproach was already spiraling in his mind, the usual inner monologue of guilt and doubt taking over. “I’m a fucking mess,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “I can’t even…”

She reached out slowly, touching his arm lightly to ground him. “It’s okay,” she said again, but she saw it happening, his retreat, and it made her heart sink. He was going to pull away. She could see it in his posture, the way his gaze avoided hers, the tension in his shoulders as if he was already preparing to leave.

Without thinking, without any plan, she blurted out the only thing that had been swirling around in her head since the moment they started this strange, unpredictable connection. "I really like you."

The words hung in the air, louder than anything she’d ever said before, a sudden bomb dropped in the middle of their awkward standoff. Her breath caught in her throat as soon as they left her mouth, and her heart skipped a beat, the rush of adrenaline almost as strong as the surge of fear. She could already feel her cheeks flushing, the vulnerability creeping in, but she couldn’t take it back now.

Bucky’s head snapped up at her words, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as he looked at her, stunned. For a moment, all he could do was stare, as if he were trying to make sense of what she’d just said. His mind had been racing, ready to bolt, but her confession grounded him, holding him in place.

“You… like me.” he finally managed, his voice barely more than a whisper, still slightly skeptical.

She smiled in a way that was both reassuring and a bit teasing. “Well, that was the whole point of going on a date, right?” His gaze flickered up, surprised, as she continued, “Why do you think I’d say yes to your invitation in the first place? I was even down to feed ducks with you.” Her smile widened, trying to lighten the mood, and a bit of that earlier sparkle returned to his eyes.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he shook his head, a mix of relief and amusement in his expression. “I thought maybe… I don’t know. Maybe you’d just be nice, humor me a little.”

She straightened up, putting on her best impression of an old-fashioned debutante. “Excuse you, but I don’t feed ducks with just anyone, what kind of woman do you think I am?” The statement had him laughing, a deep, hearty laugh that made his eyes crinkle and his nose wrinkle in an adorably unguarded way, making her knees feel like jelly.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t realize I was asking for such an honor. Guess I’ll have to work my way up to that level of duck-feeding trust.”

Her heart pounded as she met his steady, unflinching gaze, and managed to find her voice. “So… if you’re serious about making up for that offense,” she teased, “I might be open to… one little act of apology.”

He paused, his eyes widening just a fraction as he took in her words, understanding dawning across his features. A small, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his gaze softened as he reached up, almost on instinct, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear with a featherlight touch.

“I… think I can manage that,” he murmured, his voice warm and low. His thumb skimmed her cheek, his fingers brushing along her jaw as he leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to stop him. Then, finally, his lips touched hers, gentle and chaste. When they broke apart, they stayed close, foreheads nearly touching, neither quite ready to pull away. Bucky’s hand lingered on her face, his thumb still grazing her cheek as he whispered, “Is that enough to earn back your trust, or do I still have some work to do?”

She laughed softly, the sound carrying the last traces of nervousness and turning into pure warmth. “I think… that was a pretty good start.” Then she bit her lip, leaning further into his touch, “Though, maybe…” she whispered, her voice dropping to a daring, playful note, “you might have to put in a bit more effort to repair the affront on my reputation.”

He didn’t need any further invitation. His hand slipped around the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her close, capturing her mouth with an intensity that made her knees feel weak. This wasn’t the gentle, tentative kiss from before; this was raw, heated, as though he was pouring all the things he couldn’t say into the way his lips moved against hers.

His mouth parted, his tongue sliding against hers, drawing a soft, involuntary gasp from her. She melted against him, her hands finding his shoulders and gripping tight, grounding herself against the overwhelming rush of sensation. He angled his head, deepening the kiss, his thumb brushing the back of her neck as he sensually assaulted her mouth.

When he finally broke away, his breathing ragged, he kept his hand on the back of her head. His burning gaze met hers, and he managed a rough, breathless murmur, “Was that… enough effort?”

Her cheeks flushed, her voice barely a whisper. “That’ll… do.” But the playful smile on her lips told him she wasn’t entirely ready to let go either.

Bucky’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, whispering her name, low and reverent, as he trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, each warm breath sending shivers over her skin. Her fingers wove into his hair, her other hand tracing the rough line of stubble along his jaw. Slowly, she tugged him up, their lips meeting again in a heated kiss.

The world around them seemed to fade entirely, the patter of rain on the window the only sound other than their breathless murmurs. His lips were hot and demanding against hers, his hand firm on her waist as he eased them both down to the plush carpet. The scattered board game pieces were forgotten, pressing into their knees and elbows as they moved together, desperate and unrestrained.

Bucky’s vibranium fingers brushed up her side, cool and deliberate, his other hand still cupping the back of her head to angle her closer. His lips left hers, trailing down her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin just above her collarbone as his hand slid beneath her blouse, fingertips tracing patterns along her skin.

Her hands roamed over his shoulders, and his back, as she tugged him closer, her nails grazing just enough to make him hiss. His breathing was uneven, as he murmured her name against her skin, reverent and raw. “Tell me,” He rasped, his voice thick with need, “Tell me you want this.”

She reached for his face, her fingers tracing the rough line of stubble along his jaw. “I do.”

Bucky’s lips crashed onto hers, urgent yet unhurried, drinking in every soft gasp she gave him. His weight pressed her down against the plush carpet as his hand slid up the curve of her thigh beneath her skirt. The soft fabric bunched under his touch, his fingers brushing higher until the cool air met her exposed skin. She shivered, but not from the chill.

His other hand, the vibranium one, moved to the delicate buttons of her blouse.

Carefully, almost reverently, he slipped each button free, his knuckles brushing against her bare skin. When the blouse finally fell open, he pulled back just enough to drink her in, his chest rising and falling heavily.

The vibranium hand moved to the buttons of her blouse, steady but reverent. One by one, the delicate closures came undone, and as the fabric fell away, his knuckles brushed against the warm skin of her chest, drawing a quiet moan from her lips. When the blouse finally opened, he pulled back just enough to look at her, his heavy-lidded eyes dark with desire as his chest heaved with ragged breaths.

“God,” he murmured, his voice rough and full of want. The hand on her thigh squeezed gently, as if grounding himself in her, while his other hand grazed her exposed collarbone, slipping beneath the straps of her bra.

Her breath hitched as his fingers teased along the edge of the fabric before slipping it down her shoulder. His lips followed, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that made her arch beneath him. The scrape of his stubble against her sensitive skin only heightened the sensation. His mouth moved lower, dragging over the curve of her breast until his lips hovered above the thin lace of her bra.

She gasped as he nipped lightly through the fabric, his tongue following to soothe the sting. “Bucky,” she whispered, her voice trembling but filled with need.

His gaze flicked up to hers as his hand came up to cup her other breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple through the lace, drawing a soft, breathy moan from her and then repeating the motion, this time circling the stiffened peak with a deliberate slowness that had her squirming beneath him.

Her hips shifted instinctively, brushing against his, and that’s when she felt his hardness, pressing insistently against her thigh through the loose fabric of his borrowed pants, and she arched into him, her hands slipping beneath his tank top to trace the hard planes of his chest.

“Feel what you do to me?” he rasped, his voice breaking as her fingers trailed lower, tracing the edge of his waistband.

Her answer was a breathless kiss, open and hungry, her teeth tugging lightly at his lower lip before her tongue swept into his mouth. He groaned against her, his hips pressing down against hers in a slow, deliberate grind that made them both gasp.

The friction between them built as his hand moved from her breast, sliding down her side to grip her hip. He tugged her leg higher around his waist, pressing himself more firmly against her, the thin layers of fabric between them doing little to muffle the heat of their bodies. Her nails scraped lightly down his back as he thrust his hips again, the pressure of his cock against her clothed clit sending sparks of pleasure through her.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling, needy.

He stilled for a heartbeat, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes, his lips curling into a sly smirk. “I need you to use your words, doll,” he murmured, his voice gravelly and thick with desire.

Her cheeks flushed, the weight of his gaze making her shy for a moment. But the throbbing between her thighs burned hotter than her embarrassment. She licked her lips, her voice a little bolder now. “I… want you inside me.”

His smirk vanished, replaced by something darker, hungrier. He reached behind his neck to pull off his tank top in one swift motion.

The scars on his shoulder and chest caught the dim light, jagged reminders of everything he’d endured. Her fingers stilled against his chest, her breath catching as she took him in. But there wasn’t fear or pity in her gaze, only awe, tenderness, and something that made his throat tighten.

“You’re so handsome,” she murmured, leaning forward to press her lips to his collarbone. Her kisses trailed across his skin, soft and reverent, lingering on the edge of a scar.

The last of his self-consciousness melted away at her touch, and he growled softly, pushing her back down onto the carpet. His vibranium hand wrapped around her wrists, pinning them above her head with just enough pressure to make her breath hitch.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his lips brushing her ear as his free hand slid down her body. He traced the curve of her waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. Her breath hitched as his hand dipped beneath the fabric teasing her, tracing slow circles over her clit with controlled and deliberate movements, as if savoring every little sound she made.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over her jaw before pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “All for me, huh?”

“Bucky,” she gasped, her hips bucking against his hand.

“Patience, doll, I’m a little… rusty.” he whispered, as his fingers slid lower, parting her folds and slipping inside her. Her moan was like music to his ears, her body arching beneath him as he set a slow, maddening rhythm.

She writhed against him, her breathless gasps and whispered pleas spurring him on. He watched her intently, his gaze dark and focused, each stroke and curl inside her seeking out what made her moan, what made her gasp his name like a prayer.

Her hands twisted above her head where his metal hand kept them pinned, her thighs trembling as her body moved instinctively against his. "That's it," he murmured, his lips brushing over her neck. "Let me hear you. Tell me what feels good."

A strangled cry escaped her lips as his fingers found just the right spot, his thumb brushing over her clit in perfect tandem. Her hips bucked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he gave her. Her voice was breathless, broken as she moaned, "Bucky, right there… oh, God, right there."

His tongue traced the shell of her ear, and when he spoke, his voice was gravelly and thick. “Got you, sweetheart. Just let go for me.”

She shattered beneath him moments later, her head tipping back as the waves of her release washed over her. Her cries filled the room, mingling with the rhythm of the rain outside. Bucky felt the tight coil of his own restraint loosen at the sight of her coming undone. Any lingering self-doubt evaporated, replaced by the raw satisfaction of knowing he’d done that, he’d learned her, he’d given her this.

He slowed his movements, easing her down gently, his fingers still stroking her as she trembled beneath him. When her breathing steadied, he brought his hand to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers as he licked his fingers clean, savoring her taste with a low groan.

Her cheeks flushed, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Rusty, huh?” she murmured with a shaky laugh, her voice tinged with both awe and affection.

With a wicked grin, Bucky shifted, his hands fumbling to rid himself of his pants as the heat between them threatened to consume him whole. But as he pushed up onto his knees, something sharp jabbed into him, and he froze.

“Son of a…” He hissed, lifting his knee and finding a pointy plastic game piece stuck underneath it. He held it up between two fingers, glaring at the offending object like it had personally insulted him. “Seriously?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away. “That’s what happens when you’re too eager and don’t clear the battlefield first.”

“Oh, it’s a battlefield now, huh?” he grumbled, tossing the offending piece aside with a flick of his wrist. Despite his frustration, the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying a suppressed grin.

He stood quickly, tugging his pants down with a low, irritated huff, but the urgency in his movements never wavered.

Her gaze lingered on him, her breath catching as her eyes traced every line of his body, every mark that told a story he didn’t always want to remember.

The heat in his expression faltered for just a second, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and his lips twitched in a self-conscious smirk. Climbing back on top of her, he didn’t hesitate as her hands slid up his arms, guiding him closer. Her lips found his pulse point, trailing lower to the curve of his collarbone. When her lips brushed over a jagged scar, he exhaled sharply, his hand catching her chin, tilting her face toward his.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he rasped, his voice a mix of awe and hunger.

Her eyes gleamed with mischief as her lips curled into a teasing smile. “I thought we’d already established this was a battlefield,” she whispered.

“Well… I’m not exactly known for doing sloppy jobs while battling sweetheart” With one swift movement he ripped the seams of her panties, then guided himself with one hand, the thick tip of his cock pressing lightly against her slick entrance. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged it up and down her folds, catching on her clit with every pass. Her hips jerked against him, a breathless moan escaping her lips. “You’re so ready for me,” he murmured, his voice thick as he pressed himself harder against her, the friction almost too much. “Think you can take all of me, doll?”

“Well, I guess we’ll never know if you don’t-”

A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips before he eased into her slowly, inch by thick inch, her teasing interrupted with a gasp that turned into a long, broken moan as he filled her completely. He groaned, his forehead pressing to hers as he stilled for a moment, letting her adjust to his size.

He started slow, rolling his hips into hers with a deliberate rhythm, his breath hot against her neck as he groaned softly with each thrust. Her body arched beneath him, meeting him as best she could, though the stretch of him left her gasping.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmured with roughed voice, as his lips brushed her temple.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and beneath her, the scattered cards and pieces dug into her back, but the discomfort was barely registered through the haze of pleasure coursing through her.

“Bucky…” she whimpered, her voice shaky, her nails scraping lightly against his skin as she clenched around him.

“Hold on, doll,” he rasped, his hand sliding behind her thigh, lifting her leg higher to hook it around his waist. The new angle sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through her, and she cried out, her head falling back as he thrust deeper, harder.

“God, look at you,” he groaned, his dog tags swaying with each movement. The faint metallic clink added to the symphony of their labored breaths and the rain tapping against the window.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t ground herself as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and the sharp tug sent a low, primal growl rumbling through his chest. He shifted, sliding his arm beneath her other thigh, resting the back of her knee on his inner elbow, thrusting deeper, harder, making her cry out, her back arching as he drove her closer to the edge. “That’s it,” he rasped, his voice rough and commanding, his rhythm relentless now. Her nails scraped against the rug beneath her, trying desperately to find some kind of anchor as her body writhed beneath him. “You feel so damn good,” he muttered, his tone reverent yet hungry, his mouth finding hers in a searing kiss as he continued to take her apart.

Sensing he wouldn’t last much longer, Bucky shifted slightly, his metal hand sneaking between their bodies. The coolness of vibranium against her overheated skin sent a jolt through her, and then his fingers found her clit. He circled it with slow, deliberate strokes, pulling a sharp gasp from her lips.

But he wasn’t done. He pressed his index finger at her entrance, sliding it inside alongside his cock. The new stretch made her gasp again, her back arching against him.

“Bucky!” she cried, her voice breaking on his name.

He froze for a fraction of a second, giving her time to adjust, before driving his finger in knuckle-deep. The motion coaxed a pleasured cry from her as he curled the digit, pressing into that spot deep inside that made her see stars.

His thumb resumed its work on her clit, circling in time with the thrust of his hips and the curling of his finger.

Her cries grew louder, each sound spurring him on. The dual sensation of his cock and his finger drove her higher, her body trembling beneath him as pleasure spiraled through her in an unrelenting wave.

“You’re so perfect like this,” he muttered, his forehead pressing against hers, his breath hot and uneven as he continued to work her over. “Falling apart for me.”

Her nails dug into his shoulders, the only thing grounding her as she spiraled closer to the edge. The combination of his relentless thrusts, the pressure on her clit, and the maddening stretch inside her finally shattered her. She cried out, her entire body trembling as the climax ripped through her, pleasure blinding and all-consuming.

Bucky groaned deeply as he felt her tighten around him, her release dragging him over the edge. He withdrew his finger, his hand gripping her hip as he buried himself fully inside her with one final thrust, spilling his hot seed deep inside her. His breath came in heavy pants against her skin, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room were their ragged breathing and the faint patter of rain against the window. He shifted slightly, resting his forehead against hers while their bodies were still entwined.

She let out a soft, contented hum, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along his shoulder. “Again, you call this being rusty?” she murmured, her lips curling into a smile, but before she could tease him further, his expression shifted, a flicker of self-doubt breaking through the earlier confidence.

He ran a hand through his hair, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “That thing I did,” he started, his voice low, almost hesitant, “with… y’know, my finger…” He trailed off, his hand gesturing vaguely, the tension in his shoulders betraying his uncertainty. “Was that too much? Too… weird?”

Her lips parted in surprise, but then a small, warm smile curved them. “Weird? Bucky…” She leaned in, resting her hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palm. “It wasn’t too much. It was… creative.” She chuckled softly, her cheeks flushing at the memory. “Unexpected, yeah. But in the best way.”

His brow furrowed, still caught in his head. “I just didn’t know if I… I mean, it felt right at the moment, but-”

She interrupted him with a light kiss, her hand sliding to cup his jaw. “It was right,” she said firmly, her eyes locking onto his. “Don’t overthink it. Just… trust me when I say you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Her lips quirked into a teasing smile, the light tone of her voice breaking the intensity. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have pointy things prickling at my ass.”

Bucky blinked, and then his eyes darted to the floor around them, suddenly remembering the scattered game pieces and cards beneath her. “Shit,” he muttered, immediately shifting off her. “Sorry, doll, hold on.”

He backed off her quickly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes darted between the scattered cards and her flushed disheveled state.

“Relax. I was a little… preoccupied before to notice.” She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow.

Still, he bent to pick up every piece around her, muttering about “pointy plastic landmines.” When he finished, he straightened and extended a hand to her, pulling her gently to her feet.

“I’ll make sure next time is on a battlefield that’s… less hazardous,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, self-conscious smile.

“Next time, huh?” she teased, brushing her fingers lightly over his chest. “Confident now, are we?”

Bucky’s grin grew, a flicker of his earlier confidence returning. “I might be. If you’re not scared off by my… tactics.”

Her fingers continued to trail lightly along his chest, stopping just above his heart. “Not scared. Intrigued.”

Bucky bit his lip, his eyes darkening with a renewed spark as he slipped his hand around the back of her head. With a gentle yet insistent pull, he drew her closer, his lips capturing hers in a sensual kiss. Outside, the rain continued with its steady rhythm, soft and unrelenting, a distant soundtrack to the quiet intimacy they shared, where nothing else mattered but the heat of their kiss.

Just in case someone is interested, this is the song that inspired the story.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[zoofzoofxx]

„OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”

(pt.1?????)

Pairing - Joost Klein x Fem!reader

Summary - As you and your little sister walk home, you notice a commotion near a car where a group of people is shouting excitedly. Your sister catches the name of a famous singer and eagerly wants his autograph. However, Joost seems more intrigued by you and proposes a compromise.

Genre - Fluff

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

"Thank you very much,” I heard my sister express while embracing me. We were presently walking home; the evening was approaching, and we still had quite a lengthy distance to my flat. Several months back, I turned 22 and purchased a lovely apartment and moved out from my parents. My sister recently turned 16, so I invited her to my flat for the weekend, to go shopping, and then enjoy a delightful dinner as a gift. We were discussing the time my sister prefers to depart tomorrow because the journey to my parents' home is rather lengthy. Suddenly, we heard a cluster of individuals shouting and congregating near a rather luxurious car.

"What is happening back there?" my sister asked, wanting to go and see, but I grabbed her arm. "Let’s just go," I said while pulling her.

“JOOST CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH?!” “JOOST KLEIN PLEASE SIGN THIS!” “SMILE JOOST I’M MAKING A BEREAL!!!”

"Wait, was that Joost Klein?!" In a matter of seconds, my sister was by the car, fangirling like the rest of the group.

"Lorelei, let's just head back, I'm exhausted," I expressed, pulling on her jumper. The surroundings began to darken, and I had forgotten to bring a coat or a hoodie, assuming we'd return home early, but the chill was intensifying by the minute. I started to rub my hands together to generate some warmth. Lorelei continued to call out for the Dutch man who was sitting in his car, disregarding my words. I let out a sigh and decided to wait for her to meet Joost before we could head home. As time passed, the crowd dwindled, with many leaving, yet a few lingered. Eventually, it was Lorelei's turn, and she seized my wrist, pulling me along for moral support.

"HI JOOST, I’M SUCH A BIG FAN!" my little sister exclaimed. Joost chuckled at her excitement until his friend nudged him and pointed directly at me.

“Ey zij is echt mooi! (Ey she’s really beautiful!)” His friend grinned at me. I felt puzzled, so I returned the smile. Joost gazed at me, and we locked eyes for a moment before he looked away.

“Inderdaad. (Indeed.)” Joost said while nodding to his friend and then turning back to me.

"Feeling chilly?" the blond guy inquired, swinging open his car door and walking towards me. As he towered over me, he took a cigarette from his pocket and ignited it. He took a drag, glanced away, removed the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled the smoke. Then, he locked eyes with me, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and waited for a reply. I was at a loss for words. In the background, I caught my sister's amused chuckle, and I noticed a few onlookers capturing this moment on film.

“I’m not cold.” I say looking away. Joost didn’t hesitate to grab my hand.

"False. Your nose is pink and your hands are chilly. And I saw you rubbing your hands and attempting to heat yourself up," the blond man remarked as his strong Dutch accent was evident. He chuckled, unzipping and removing his coat, then passing it to me.

"I-I can't accept that," I stammered, motioning for him to put his jacket back on, but he remained still. My sister gently nudged me, signaling to take the jacket. I glanced at her, seeing her thumbs up, and suddenly, it felt like I was back in high school chatting with my crush and getting support from my best friend. Joost nodded for me to accept his jacket. After a moment of hesitation, I finally took it. He blew the smoke in another direction, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and helped me zip up my jacket. The scent of his expensive cologne filled my lungs. He turned to my sister with a smile clapping his hands together.

“Sooo… You wanted a picture and an autograph?”He inquired of her, and she enthusiastically nodded. He strolled back to his vehicle while his friends chuckled. He retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen, passing them to my sister.

“Can you write your sister her phone number?” He said gazing at me, giving me a wink as I averted my gaze sensing that my face would blush a light shade of pink. My sibling didn't even pause. She penned down the phone digits and aimed to pass it over but halted him.

"I want a hug too," she utters, and he chuckles.

"Let’s compromise, will you write her name and surname for a hug?" He said pointing at me, as I could hear his friends laugh, and I buried my face in my hands due to embarrassment. I could also sense the excitement among Joost's supporters who were laughing heartily.

"Of course! Her name is Y/n!" She mentioned writing something down and passing the paper and pen to him without any delay to offer her a significant, extended embrace. I caught her whispering something, and he burst into loud laughter. I simply grinned, relishing the sight of my sister's joy. Joost murmured something in return, and Lorelei stepped back and approached me. She began to quietly murmur something in my ear.

“No way-.” I said backing away and furrowing my brows.

"Please for my birthday!" She pleads, casting me those adorable puppy eyes.

"No Lorelei, that's an excessive request," I utter firmly, feeling utterly exhausted.

"Please." Joost emerged alongside my sister, giving me pleading eyes. I turned my head and exhaled deeply.

"What will you receive in exchange?" I inquire, exhaling and turning towards my sister.

"A meet and greet for an hour after his concert," she says, pleading with me and giving me those puppy eyes. I sigh and walk over to Joost, who's already lowering himself to my height. I glance at my sister, who's holding her phone out, waiting for the perfect photo opportunity. I just shake my head no, and she pouts. Looking at Joost, I notice he's smiling, his cigarette is gone. As I get a closer look, I realize he's actually really handsome. He gives me one last look and winks. I give him a light peck on his cheek, leaving a faint pink mark. The people around us go wild, especially his friends in the car. I glance at my sister, who's snapping a picture. I furrow my brows and turn back to Joost. His expression is gentle, and he's blushing, as am I.

"You smell pleasant." He chuckled, and I playfully hit his shoulder.

"Lorelei, go get the autograph and the image, and let's head back." I express, glancing at Lorelei as if nothing has happened. My sibling nodded, and a short while later, she bid her final farewell. Joost walked towards me, coming closer with outstretched arms for an embrace. I embraced him, then stepped back and started unzipping the coat Joost had given me.

"What are you up to?" He inquires as I glance up at him.

"Returning your coat. I'm warm, and it belongs to you," I mention, but he took my hand halfway and zips it back up.

"Take it, please, I insist." He casts those pleading puppy eyes once more. I exhaled in surrender, feeling weary and not in the mood for a conversation with anyone at the moment.

“Jij bent echt schattig. (You are really cute)” he said and I tilted my head to the side in confusion and he grinned. Embracing me once more and walking back into his car.

“Ik hou van jou! (I love you!)” Lorelei mentions, and Joost chuckles while glancing at the paper my sister handed him earlier.

“Ik hou van Y/n. (I love Y/n.)” He speaks, and my sister shrieks and pinched my arm while I remain confused. I simply grasp my sister's shoulder, and we depart. Glancing back one last time, I notice Joost Klein still gazing at me with a smile. He winks, offers a small wave, and raises his phone, indicating that I should check mine. I acknowledge with a nod, thumbs up, and a wave as we turn the corner..

After a few minutes of silence I heard a phone notification coming from my phone.

“Send me a message once you arrive home safely with your little sister.”

I passed my phone to my little sister so she could check the message, and she burst into screams of excitement once more. After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at my place. Then, I heard yet another notification, this time from Instagram.

“@joostklein ✓ started following you.”

As we stepped into my apartment, the initial thing Lorelei did was play the track "Buurman Uit Berlijn" by Joost Klein and MCR-T. I strolled into my room and overheard my sister say:

"Y/n, remember to reply to Joost!" I just sighed and took my phone, sending him a brief message saying: "we got back home alright, appreciate the autograph and photo with my sister."

In less than 10 seconds, Joost replied, saying: "I have a lipstick mark on my cheek, thanks for that and the hug. You smell really good. If I were you, I'd check the jackets right pocket. I left a little surprise." With my toothbrush in my mouth, I headed to the living room, picked up the neatly folded jacket, and looked through the pockets. It was a letter that said ‘Y/n’ I opened it and inside were 2 passes for the Eurovision Song Contest… I almost chocked on my toothbrush, quickly grabbed my phone, and messaged Joost: “When did you slip those in!?” I hit send quickly and immediately got a reply: “When we embraced. Give one pass to your sister. I'll cover the flight and hotel, unless you'd like to stay with me in the same hotel room ;)” I knitted my brows in confusion. I hastily texted him: “I'm truly grateful. Goodnight.” And received a swift response: “Slaapzacht schat. (Sleep tight darling.)” I just left him on read going into sleep thinking about the kiss with Joost.

A/n- HELP THIS WAS MY FIRST STORY EVER ON TUMBLR DON’T HATE PLS 😭 HAVE A NICE DAY YA’LL 😊☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

#JUSTICE FOR JOOST

[dollfacefantasy]

FACE DOWN, DOLLED UP ♡

pairing: light yagami x fem!reader

summary: over the past few months, you've reunited with your best friend from college. in the midst of your blossoming connection, he has a special role he wants you to play for him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dollification, infidelity

a/n: i wasn't gonna post this till later but i got excited... i love him so bad. he is everything to me. all night. all day. no lube. no protection. i hope my fellow light bulbs enjoy 🙏 and comments and reblogs mean the world to me <3

kinktober slot: day 11 - dollification

"The goddess of the new world. The one I'll keep by my side as I rule. The only being I'll cherish in this reality. That will be you."

The words fell from between Light's lips with ease. To anyone else, they would sound like the absolute truth. After all, he said them with such conviction. But you knew better.

As much as you adore him, you would never call Light someone you trust.

You'd met him at university years ago and had been taken with his intelligence and blunt way of viewing the world. At that time in your life, you weren't sure of anything. You couldn't help but be drawn to someone so absolutely certain of everything.

It was a cult of personality, yet you were the only member. You longed for Light, craved his confidence, which then turned into just basking in his mere presence. You wanted him bad, but the timing just never seemed right between the two of you. He got a girlfriend, and you became swept up in your studies.

Now when he says these words telling you that you're special, you want to believe him. You want him to give you what you yearn for. You want for them to be real so badly, but you still can't fully give in to that hope. Why did he need you so much now when he let you slip away from him for years?

He called you a few months ago, asking to go to lunch. There'd been no reason to decline, so you met up with him the next week to 'catch up.' When you arrived at the small restaurant and took your seat across from him, he smiled at you like you'd just come from your shared lecture all those years ago. You fell into a conversation as if you were still best friends.

After that initial meeting, more followed. You kept seeing him even when he mentioned that he and Misa still lived together. In your head you reasoned that you and him were just friends. It was fine to hang out with your friend. But then your dates started to include lingering looks and fleeting touches. Then soft confessions and stolen kisses. You were no longer Light's friend, but you shamefully continued to come to him time after time.

I loved him first you told yourself.

You found out he was Kira when he confessed several weeks ago out of necessity. Too many people in your circles had died. You couldn't lie for him if you didn't know you should be. He didn't want you mentioning off-handedly that these deaths started happening not too long after your reconnection. Or that they only seemed to occur within days of you complaining about the victim bothering you.

At first, it scared you, finding out that Light had such power. But it also made sense. If anyone you knew could wield the force of death, it would be him.

As with everything else he did, you accepted it. Unlike your compliance with his infidelity, this wasn't your fault though. What was the other option? You didn't believe you meant more to Light than his crusade. Even though he killed for you, he was Kira before your lover. You would die before he lost his war. 

He would take a life for your presumed benefit, but you didn't credit that fact to you being special. Your love didn't blind you to his arrogance. More than you, he loved to show off, craved the satisfaction that came with having ultimate power over someone. Or in his case, everyone.

That's why when he proclaimed you his goddess last week at one of your rendezvous, you were still hesitant to accept the words. 

He lives with Misa. His speeches about having no love for her ring hollow when half of your bed remains empty each night. Why can't he just commit to you instead of trying to fill your head with ideas of divinity?

Tonight, you meet him in a hotel room. One he booked just for the two of you. It was a nice space. Not some cheap place rife with other affairs and unfaithful couplings. The elevator ride to your floor is smooth and quiet. 

He's already inside when you arrive.

You see him sitting on the edge of the bed as you push the door open and enter silently. All the linens were still tucked in place. His eyes lift to meet yours.

"There you are," he says. 

His voice comes out softer than usual. Not with affection necessarily. It almost sounds weary.

You pad over the smooth hotel carpet with caution. Light was never weary. Never showed vulnerability. No one was ever allowed to see weakness from him.

"Are you alright?" you ask, tone matching his in its lack of intensity.

Stopping between his legs, you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb swipes back and forth across his smooth skin. His rich brown eyes linger on your features, a whirlpool of emotions storming within them.

"Yeah," he answers in contrast to what you see.

Curling his fingers around the dips in your waist, he sits you on his thigh and pulls you close on his lap. He noses the curve of your neck, kissing the flesh tenderly and breathing in the smell of you.

"I want to try something tonight. Will you let me?" he murmurs.

"What is it?" you ask, your own fingers stroking through his sandy locks.

The question puts a smile on his face and draws a quiet laugh from his lips. "Don't you trust me?"

You mirror the expression with your own mouth. 

Do you trust him? It’s a loaded question. One you would think deeply about if it were asked in another context. But here, you do what any person desperately seeking the approval of their lover would.

"Yeah."

"Exactly. So say yes, and let me show you," he says.

Staring into his eyes for a few seconds more, you contemplate the request. You had no clue what he was going to do. Why couldn't he just say it? What was there to hide? Maybe it's more of an embarrassment thing. You still don't know even after thinking it over, but you decide to agree anyway. After all, you said you trusted him.

"Ok," you whisper with a small bob of your head.

Upon seeing your little nod, his smile morphs into a grin.

"Good girl," he says and pecks the corner of your mouth.

He moves you off his lap and onto the bed before getting up. Walking to the chair by the window, he picks up a couple bags. They look like nice ones from luxurious stores, names of brands you'd never even heard of displayed across the sleek laminate exteriors. He sets them down at your feet.

"If I'm going to have you by my side as I rule, I want us to be united. I want you presented as if you were made in my image," he says, voice dropping and the words oozing out a bit cooler.

Your eyes watch him as he speaks. So wide and innocent. The ache for his affection visible within them even if you don't want it to be.

He drags two of his slender fingers down your cheek again. When they reach your jawline, he maneuvers your face around. His hand tilts it to different angles as if studying you.

"You're going to be perfect," he says quietly.

Bending down, he fishes the items from the bag and lays them out next to you on the bed. First a black dress made of sheer chiffon with velvet roses laying over obsidian satin. It's the prettiest thing that would ever be on your body in your life.

Next comes a matching pair of glossy pumps. He drops them next to the dress on the mattress before pulling you to your feet. He positions you in front of him looking down his gifts and rests his chin on your shoulder. You can feel his eyes on your face, scrutinizing each detail for a reaction.

"Are those for me?" you ask.

"Of course they are. Who else would they be for?" he responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You shrug, your own pupils scanning the items up and down. "They're nice," you continue slowly. This wasn't at all bad, and the pieces were beautiful. They just weren't what you had imagined.

"I want you looking your best when you're by my side," he whispers.

His hands drift down to your hips, and he turns you around. He brushes his nose against yours, coasting his lips by so that they just barely touch your own.

"Let me show you how good it'll feel. Be my little doll for the night," he whispers, his breath tickling your face.

It feels so good being this close. You nod and tilt your head to connect your mouths. He kisses back, palm sliding up to cup the back of your neck.

You get a few more soft smooches before he pulls back.

"Let's get you dressed up then."

He begins to remove the clothes you wore here. Your top is the first thing to hit the floor. It crumples in on itself next to your ankles. You're left bare, little chills erupting over your skin as the cool air hits you. He spins you around slowly and unclasps your bra, letting your breasts fall free.

His hands weave under your arms to come around and cup the mounds. They press into the flesh, absorbing their warmth and savoring the feeling of you. His precious reprieve. His sweetest escape.

Your nipples pebble from the cold and the heat of his hands hitting you all at once. Sighing, you tilt your head back and allow the tension in your shoulders to melt away for now. The same slender fingers that whip a pen around with ease tweak and pinch at the hardened buds until you're whimpering.

After he's satisfied his interest, he lets them go and then removes your bottoms. The button comes undone and the zipper follows. He slides the garment down your legs. To aid him, you step out of it and kick the bundle of cloth aside to sit with your shirt. The move earns you a light pinch to your hip.

"Dolls don't move," he whispers and nips at the skin of your neck, teasing a potential love bite, "They don't do anything on their own. You leave everything up to me."

The words send a chill down your spine. "Sorry, Light," you say softly.

"They don't talk either," he says and kisses up your neck, "They stay quiet and still. Just a good girl for me to play with."

You sink back into him upon hearing that because it's exactly what you want. All you desire is to be good for him. To be the thing he wants to play with. The one he uses to feel safe when everything else is one minute away from spiraling out of control. 

He strips you of your own socks and shoes. You're only left in the dainty panties you arrived in, but he ends up taking those too. He drags them off your legs - you stand completely motionless this time, letting him lift each limb to free you of the underwear. After he shoves them in his pocket, it's time to dress you in your new attire.

He picks up the elegant black dress and steps you into it before shimmying the cloth up your body. Slipping each of your arms into the sleeves, he then zips up the back. The fabric clings to your curves, highlighting your figure in a flattering shape. He rakes his fingers up the dark material, feeling it move with his digits.

Next, he sits on the bed. Even now, Light wouldn't crouch or get on his knees for you. He perches on the edge of the mattress and pulls you onto his lap again. Taking one of your legs behind the knee, he bends it up so your foot rests on his thigh. He grabs one of the heels nearby and unfastens the buckle. Sliding your foot into the sole, he clasps in place again and then repeats the process with your other.

Finally, he stands you up and walks you over to the mirror. The feeling of his eyes moving over your body in the new dress and shoes is palpable. His hands stretch across your belly while he holds you there for his appraisal.

Looking at your own appearance, the image standing before your eyes pleases you. The dress fits perfectly, and the shoes gleam beneath them just right. You look like his. Feel like it too with the way his arms cage you against him.

"You look beautiful. Don't you think?" he says.

You wonder if this is a trick or if you're supposed to know how to answer without moving or speaking. But before you can dwell too much on this, he cups your jaw and squishes your cheeks. His hand propels your head up and down in a little nod.

"That's my girl," he praises, smile absolutely sinister across his face.

Even though you didn't do anything to earn that praise, it makes you swoon all the same. His. Maybe it wasn't just a feeling, maybe it was closer to being real. As long as you showed him that you could be good, that you could listen, he would see that you're the better fit for him.

He pulls a chair up in front of the reflective pane and sits down, perching you on his thigh once more. The side table sitting next to the mirror held another bag like the one your outfit came from. This one was much smaller but still chic looking.

Light reaches for it and fetches a few small items from within. On your lap he places a compact of powders, a tube of lip gloss, some mascara, and a few brushes.

"I want those to stay right where I put them. Knock them off, and I won't give you anything else," he warns.

You don't say or do anything, not even a nod. This pleases him, and he pecks your cheek.

Never did you think you'd see the day where Light did your make up. But here you sit in his lap, obediently calm as he brushed dark powder across your lids and coated your lashes in mascara. You open when he says open, close when he directs as much. You hold your position like a statue as he glosses over your lips and swipes away any excess with his thumb.

Watching you sit there without a move or a word has his cock stiffening up beneath you. You're following everything he says down to the letter, treating him with the respect he deserves. He can't get enough. If he wanted your head to be empty, it would be. You'd sit on his lap or at his feet or wherever he fucking asked because the only thing you need is him, and that's so clear now.

When he's all done, he guides your face back in the direction of your reflection. Your eyes meet the pair looking back at you and then cast on the other version of him. He's staring right back.

"I knew you'd be perfect," he says.

You can feel his semi beneath your thighs. Knowing he's feeling worked up has your body responding in kind. You're still bare down there since he didn't bother replacing your panties. You can feel your folds becoming a little damp, but you still don't move, not a single squirm or whine.

He keeps you there, staring at you, taking in what he had made with your body. His hands roam over your curves, digging into your plush flesh.

"Your hair is pretty enough. I won't have to do anything with it tonight," he praises.

He then boosts you to your feet. His body doesn't follow right away. He takes a moment to stay behind in the chair, admiring your ass and leaning forward to hold your hips between his palms.

"Just look at you," he says.

Now he stands. He walks around you, leaving you in front of the mirror by yourself. He goes back to the bed and sits at the end.

"Come over here," he commands.

You suppose since it's an order that it's ok to move. Your first step is hesitant as you find your footing in the tall heels. It only takes you a couple seconds to get used to them though. You manage to walk the rest of the way with ease.

His cock hardens further as he watches you obey without question. You come to him like a well-trained pet. Exactly what he wants.

When you come to a stop in front of him, he pauses and takes a moment to think. He wanted you now. The urge to undo all his work, nearly insatiable. He tries to pace himself though.

"Do you feel pretty?" he asks you.

You hesitate, but he gives you a nod to speak. "Yeah," you answer.

"Yeah? Can you see your place at my side?" he asks, eyes raking over every detail of your form.

"Yeah."

"That's where you belong, hm?"

"Yeah," you say. It almost comes out a whisper.

He chuckles lowly before waving at you. "Come here."

You take the few remaining steps and close the distance between you two. His arms wrap around your waist and twirl you so you fall back on the bed. He climbs on top, grinding his growing bulge against your hip.

"That is where you belong. And that's where I'll keep you for the rest of our days," he mutters.

He leans down and engulfs your mouth in a flurry of kisses. His hands float across the dress, groping and squeezing your body. He doesn't silence the little whimpers and squeaks that come from you right now. Instead, his mouth drifts to your neck, making good on those love bites he teased earlier.

"You won't have to worry about anything, pet. No thoughts in that little head except being good for me," he mutters.

When he pulls back, his eyes are blown with lust. They focus on you with intensity so passionate it's almost frightening. He grabs your chin and holds you in place as he seemingly inspects your appearance once more.

"Fuck, how could anyone not want to worship you when you look like this?" he mumbles.

He rises back onto his knees, pushing down his fly and pulling his cock out. His fingers rise to fiddle with his shirt's buttons before he shrugs it off too. He doesn't bother with his pants beyond pushing them down enough so they're not in the way. Once his cock is available, he strokes it a few times and lets it fill out all the way.

The sight is enough to have more slick collecting between your thighs, which is fortunate since Light isn't the most patient. On his best days, he was needy for you. On his worst, he was inconsiderate. Right now seems to be a mix of both.

Reaching out, he grabs your thighs and yanks you down the bed to him. Your dress bunches at your hips as it catches between your back and the sheets. It works out since he pushes it up the rest of the way.

Seeing you in the outfit he chose, the shoes he bought, with nothing underneath strokes his ego in a way he can't explain. You being exposed now, no barriers keeping you from him just makes it worse. It brings to mind visions of a future where he could have you whenever he wanted. You'd exist for him, easily accessible, his for the taking. And he'd take advantage of it every moment he could.

He slots his cock at your entrance, rocking forward at first and gathering some of your wetness on it. After seeing the glisten of you on his tip, he rotates himself so he's at the right spot to push in. Your tight hole accepts his shaft inch by inch, clamping around him from the first seconds.

You whine as he splits you open, now squirming beneath his body, unable to stay still.

"Feels too good? My little dolly can't hold herself together anymore?" he taunts breathily.

You shake your head in response, and he laughs. It only encourages him to shove more in.

He has you completely full moments later, hips flush against your center as deep as he can go. You don't get any time to adjust with Light. He wants to fuck now, so that's what you're doing. Along with no talking or moving, you're pretty sure dolls don't get a say on this matter either.

More needy sounds pour from your lips, but he still doesn't get on you for it. It drives his confidence through the roof seeing that someone as well-behaved as you couldn't manage anymore when he slid inside.

His hips push and pull, slamming in and out of your cunt with a steady rhythm. He lifts your legs to sit over his shoulders. The heels he bought and paid for and had fantasized about you in for weeks bobble by his head. He grits his teeth as the pure satisfaction from the thought flows through him.

"Everyone will worship you, and you'll worship me like the good girl you are," he moans more to himself than you as his hips speed up a bit.

You get so tight for him when he talks that he can't stop. Words just keep leaking out in an endless stream.

"Gonna fuck you like this everyday. Put you in new pretty outfits and then bend you over in 'em. Make sure you remember you're mine. Every inch of you, all for me," he grunts.

His thrusts get harder. You feel little tears pricking at your eyes from all the stimulation, but you can't cry. You can't ruin your makeup. Not when he'd been so careful with how he applied it. You sniffle and wipe at your waterline, but lucky for you, he doesn't seem to notice what you're trying to avoid.

"No one else can have you. No one else gets to know how good you feel or how obedient you are. You're the one for me, the one I'll keep," he mutters. The pleasure rushing throughout his body and fogging up his head makes half of it incoherent, but you eat it up anyways.

"Light!" you finally cry out and arch your back when his cock rams against the sweetest spot inside you, "I'm all yours. Swear. Don't want anybody else. Just you. Forever and ever and ever..."

You trail off as he fucks all the thoughts right out of your pretty little head. His body comes down on yours again, bending you in half and sliding against you as he works himself all the way inside over and over. You claw at the thin hotel bedding for some form of relief, but there's no escaping him.

Release builds in your tummy, your toes curl and your breaths become ragged. You know better than to finish without asking though.

"Can I cum, Light? Please, need it so so so bad," you beg, eyes still almost teary.

He looks down. A wave of lust crashes into him as he sees how your lip quivers and water rests at the edges of your eyes, waiting to spill.

"You have been so good for me," he says, wanting a bit more pleading out of you before he gives his permission.

"Mhm! Please. I'll keep being good. Just gotta cum cause you make me feel so good," you whine.

He grins and ruts forward particularly hard. "Go ahead then."

And you do. You cum so hard you feel like your body is gonna twist into knots. You squirm and mewl, noises coming out unfiltered and unrestrained. Your vision goes spotty, and all that's left is him. Him pummeling into you, panting above you, not stopping as you crest over the peak.

He grips onto you harder and keeps fucking you through it. His bangs fall across his eyes from all the movement. You're so warm and tight and wet as you release all over him that it only takes a few more strokes before he shoots his load inside you.

A needy moan seeps from his lips as he works it into you. He thrusts it deep inside, he didn't want any of it spilling out and making a mess on your new dress. At least not the first time the two of you did this.

After he finally pulls out, he lets your legs drop onto the bed. They bounce against the mattress that's too springy. Your chest puffs up and down from the exertion you just went through. After taking a few minutes to come down, you yawn and stretch, limbs sprawling outward to reach for him.

But you don't find him. You turn to see why that is and find his back facing you. He sits at the edge of the mattress hunched over - one of his hands clicks through his phone while the other runs through his sweaty hair. You're about to ask what's the matter, but he turns to you and answers that question himself.

"I have to go. There's a problem back at the apartment. Misa needs my help," he says and rises to his feet.

He straightens out his clothes and tries to make his hair look more presentable. You watch in disbelief. He wasn't even going to stay the night?

"But Light..." you say softly and sit up.

As if he can read your thoughts, he reaches out to pet your head.

"I'll see you again soon. It won't be like this for too much longer," he says. You can see the hesitation in his eyes before he makes his next move. He leans down and kisses your forehead. "Keep being good for me. My little doll."

Those are the last words he says before he leaves you there alone.

Flopping back on the bed, you stare at the ceiling in silence. You may have been dressed like a goddess in your expensive get up, but you'd never felt so cheap.

[alittlebitofsainz]

- just don’t want your friends to see -

prompt: “said you needed me, wanted to be with me, just don’t want your friends to see”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: the pressure of keeping the relationship a secret is getting to you both. is he ashamed of you? (everyone needs a little soft and reassuring lando in their lives every now and then)

a/n: can be considered a lil’ part two to told her you were just a friend. lyrics from ‘you to you’ by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“hey, you guys, hope you haven’t been waiting long!”

your head turned to follow the sound of the voice, seeing max and his girlfriend pietra approaching, a few minutes late for lunch. you noticed lando doing the same, his fingers immediately disentangling from your own as soon as he spotted them, your hand feeling empty without his clasped around it as he took a step away from you. you knew you should be used to it by now, you’d both agreed that this was for the best, keeping your relationship in the shadows, locked behind closed doors. I want this relationship to be just ours, he’d said. it had sounded nice at the time, poetic, even, and you’d agreed, maybe a little too eagerly. but as you sat at lunch with max and pietra, perched awkwardly on the edge of your seat so as not to seem too close to lando, listening to him laugh off questions about his romantic life and saying he hadn’t really met anyone special yet - you had to admit that it stung. it stung the same way it did every time, and you found yourself unnaturally quiet throughout the meal, eyes flicking between person to person as the conversation continued around you.

if you’d thought it had gone unnoticed by lando, you thought wrong.

“baby, everything okay?”

even the pet name stung, the façade of ‘friendship’ falling by the wayside as soon as you made it back to lando’s apartment. just the two of you, a safe space, away from prying eyes and listening ears. you could be in a relationship again, having put it on pause for the time you were out in public.

you looked up, trying to plaster a fake smile across your face, the expression faltering slightly at the edges.

“yeah, fine. just tired, that’s all.” came your reply. but lando wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind, either. you tried to escape through to the kitchen, but he wasn’t having any of that.

“y/n, I know you. I can tell you’re not fine. talk to me, please.”

the gentleness of his voice coaxed you to be honest, letting out a sigh as you turned to lean against the kitchen counter, facing him. you couldn’t quite meet his eyes, almost embarrassed. you’d both agreed on this - why were you suddenly feeling so upset about it all? you knew lando loved you, appreciated you, but something about the way he acted when the two of you were out in public, around colleagues, around friends, even, that just got to you.

“are you embarrassed of me?”

the words left your mouth before filtering through your brain first, and you regretted them immediately; the way lando’s face fell, pain and guilt etched across his features - you swore you would never forget it, and you never wanted to see it again.

“no, no. fuck, y/n, I could never be embarrassed of you.” his voice was strained as he took several paces towards you across the kitchen, casting a cautious gaze over you as he tried to decide whether to give you space or comfort. you felt emotions bubble up inside you, ones you’d been trying to keep hidden for months, for the sake of your relationship. you’d always worried that if you caused a fuss or spoke about your emotions in any way, it would push lando away. why would he want someone who was such a problem when he could have pretty much anyone he wanted? it was irrational and you knew it, but keeping it inside for so long, unable to talk to anyone about it…? well, it had festered in your mind until it had taken over.

“I just feel like that’s why you don’t wanna tell your friends about me…” you eventually said, voice coming out as more of a whimper than you’d intended. lando closed the remaining space between you, hesitating for split second before taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours imploringly.

“baby, I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like that.” his voice was firm, filled with conviction and sincerity, but also tinged with a hint of emotion, upset that he’d ever hurt the person in his life that he cared the most about, “I swear, I never meant to. I’m so sorry.”

“it’s just difficult.” you murmured in reply, relishing the feeling of your hands being in his once again as you dropped your gaze down to look at them. “I feel like I’m always acting in public, like I can’t relax. and I can’t even talk to anyone about it.”

“I wish you’d talk to me.” lando’s voice was equally as quiet as yours, his tone so genuine that you couldn’t help but relax just a little, fears of pushing him away by being too honest dissipating by the second. he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, and it was only when he brushed a thumb across your skin to wipe away a tear that you realised you’d started crying.

“really?” you blinked up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna hear about it.”

he took your face in both hands, eyebrows curved up into a soft frown. “why would you think that? is it… is it something I said? something I did?” you could tell he meant it genuinely, but it made you realise just how irrational you were being. nothing lando had ever said or done had given you any indication that he wouldn’t want to hear your thoughts, your concerns, the things that made you upset. you were still navigating things, but you were beginning to realise that this was someone who you could really open up to. someone who cared about you. you shook your head, brushing away your own tears with the palm of your hand, letting out a wet chuckle.

“no, no. you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid.” you admitted, but now it was lando’s turn to shake his head.

“you weren’t being stupid.” he murmured, dropping his hands from your face and instead wrapping them around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he placed delicate kisses to the top of your head. “nothing you feel is stupid. it’s not easy keeping us a secret, trust me, I know.” he sighed, resting his chin on your head as he held you close. “I’m not embarrassed of you, y/n, I’m just trying to protect you. people… they can be pretty crazy when it comes to people I date. I just wanna keep you away from that just a little longer.”

you nodded into his chest. deep down, you knew that. you just needed to hear it from him. you let out a soft, contented sigh, the sound mirrored by lando as he tightened his grip round you just a little. he didn’t want to lose you, especially not over something like this, a fact he told his mum on the phone later that night as he finally told her all about you.

the final part is out now :)

a smau based on this fic is out now :)

[miniy00ng1]

Home

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1189

warnings: swearing, lila likes five (ew), lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiiii lovelies! it felt like i wrote more than i actually did, butttt whatever. please ignore any grammar errors and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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

He dreams of you every night. Thinks about you during his every waking moment. He longs to see your beautiful face again. To hold you tight in his arms and never let you go.

Your relationship with Five is one he could only dream of having. He met you during the apocalypse. You were severely injured and stuck under rubble but, you were alive when he stumbled across you.  

Five had nursed you back to health and in return you provided him company for what would have been 45 very lonely years. During that time, you and Five had fallen in love and had married.

Since arriving in the new timeline 6 years ago, you and Five had started to build a normal life together, just like Five had wished for. But now he’s found himself stuck in a neverending hellscape with the last person he’d ever want to be stuck with.

Six years had gone by since he last saw you and all of them were agony. Five tried to find a way back to you and vowed he wouldn’t stop trying until you were back in his arms. There were times where he wasn’t sure he would ever see you again and it broke his heart–he would never admit this to anyone.

“I cannot stand to eat another subway rat.” Lila says, scrunching her nose up in disgust. The pair were sat on the floor of the station cooking yet another rodent. “Maybe…we could rest up for a bit at the greenhouse we found the other day? The place wasn’t too bad.” Lila glances at Five with a hopeful look in her eyes. Five ponders the idea, he wouldn’t mind a soft bed to sleep in and definitely wouldn’t miss getting shot at. He nods at Lila, “Only for a couple of days.” 

A few days had turned into weeks which turned into months. And soon enough the pair had been there for three months. The greenhouse and surrounding area had provided a sufficient source of living and was considerably more comfortable than the subway station floor.

Five was watering the strawberries in the greenhouse when he felt something hit his back. He could hear Lila giggle and felt another thud, “Quit it Lila, you’re wasting produce. We’re not going to have enough for the winter if you keep throwing them at me.” Lila continued to toss strawberries as she approached Five, “Oh please, we’ll have plenty and we aren’t staying tha–”

Lila tripped over her feet causing Five to drop his watering can and catch her. The two were face to face, he could feel Lila’s breath and her eyes staring at his lips. He quickly pushed Lila to her feet and distanced himself from her. “Look Lila, I know we’ve been here a long time and you’re not happy with my brother but I love Y/N. And I just want to get back to her.” Five was never the kindest man but in that moment he had hoped he let her down gently.

Lila nodded quickly, tucking her lips as her eyes welled with tears, “No, yeah, I get it. I’m sorry. It’s just–what if we never get home?” Five shook his head, “That’s not happening. I’m never going to stop until I get us home.”

Five left the greenhouse to give Lila some space. In the meantime, he returned to the subway station and decided to take a ride to clear his head. As he sat on the grimey seat he tried to think about how you might try to decipher the station–you were always just as smart as he was, helping solve equations in the apocalypse. You had even told him his calculations were off but he would never listen, he smiled to himself thinking about you.

The train let out a ding signifying he had reached the next stop. As the doors opened he heard the sound of footsteps fading. What the hell? he thought to himself. He shot out of his chair with urgency, following the direction of the footsteps and calling out for the mystery person to stop. 

Five came to a halt, his eyes widening at the bright sign and the warm presence of a restaurant. If he wasn’t confused before, he sure as hell was now. Five neared the door with caution, but as he entered the deli he was awestruck. He was surrounded by himself, some workers and some patrons of the deli.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you! Come sit with me” A voice called out, his voice, but he wasn’t speaking. He glanced around to see who was calling for him when he saw himself in a booth waving him over. Five approached the table and slid into his seat.

“So you’ve made it.” Booth Five says enthusiastically. Five looks at himself quizzically, raising an eyebrow he asks, “And where exactly are we?” “It’s where we all come when we’ve given up.” “Given up?” Five questions. “I haven’t given up. I need to get home to Y/N.” Murmurs erupt at the sound of your name. Many surrounding Fives sigh or give a sad smile.

“We here don’t have our version of your Y/N anymore. We lost everyone, including her. As soon as we did, majority of us gave up trying to save the world.” Booth Five states, a sad gleam in his eyes. “I’ve saved the world three times already. I don’t plan on doing it again anytime soon. I just want to get home to her. So do me a favor and tell me how to get home.”

Booth Five gives a call out to Waiter Five. Waiter Five brings over a notebook and hands it to Five. As Five inspects the journal, his eyes widen. “Holy shit…it’s a cipher. This is how I get back.” Five immediately gets up. As he leaves Booth Five calls out,

“We’ll see you soon.”

Upon returning to the greenhouse Five starts to gather everything in preparation to make his return home. “Lila!” He calls out, “Lila! Where are you? Get ready to leave, we’re going home!” Lila bursts through the door looking disheveled.

“You–You’re not fucking with me are you? Because if you are, I will kill you.” Five shakes his head and Lila squeals running over to hug Five. “Let’s go home.”

The pair arrives at Diego and Lila’s house. Lila excitedly runs up to the door and throws it open. As she disappears into the house Five begins to approach. As he gets closer, he can hear you giggle as Lila envelops you in a bear hug. 

Lila eventually lets you go and that’s when you notice Five’s presence at the entryway. You make your way over to him with your beautiful smile. You throw your hands around his neck and pull him down slightly as he is a couple inches taller than you. Five snakes his hands around your waist, face in your hair as he breathes you in.

You go to pull away but Five’s grip tightens. You let out a laugh, “Someone must’ve missed me.” “You have no idea” He whispers.

[c0kitty]

NOW PLAYING ... STAY THE NIGHT ft. fwb!abby anderson x f!reader

(⭑) content: wc 600+ hc. modern au. fwb!abby. smut-ish. cursing. dickhead!abby. soccer player!abby. both in uni.

READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby who you disliked with a passion. it wasn’t for no reason. abby’s constant air of arrogance, her playboy-mentality with women, and her ability to have everyone at her will — just being the school’s soccer champion, didn’t sit well with you. 

so, it was your surprise when you ended up in her freaking bed later that week.  

you don't entirely remember how it happened, but one moment you were at ellie’s party, doing an intense shot-game with abby, and the next — you both were severely drunk in ellie’s bathroom, cornered, with you on the counter, and abby’s lips on yours.

you remembered small fragments of the night: abby’s lips being so soft, and tongue tasting like a mixture of vodka and grapefruit. your legs being propped around abby’s hips.

abby’s rough hands, slipping through your unbutton jean’s and into your soaked panties. 

her voice, low and soothing in your ear, “c'mon let me hear you, princess.”

it was different from her usual rough tone with you; and the worst part is you liked it. liked her praising you, whispering sweet-nothings.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who fucks you out. the night after was a bit of a whiplash for you. your lips kiss-swollen, dark hickies splayed on your neck, and you were wearing abby’s jersey

abby’s arm was wrapped at your hips, holded tight like she would die before letting you go. her body half-naked only in boxers.

and for some reason having seeing abby like that, stirred so many emotions. to desire, warmth, comfort.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who you can’t sleep with again — you couldn’t be like those girls she’d fuck and get bored with after they’d caught feelings.

so, you leave without a word. but, soon after, you guys would see each other in class, eye’s drawn to each other.

…and it more or less happens again, rushed in a random janitor’s closet, again in abby’s freakishly-clean room, and again, in abby’s truck, her hands pushing your shaky legs apart, two fingers curling at your g-spot.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who is obsessed with you, always has been. she liked how you were always head on with her stubbornness, she loved how confident, smart, pretty, especially in those mini-skirts you always wear.

and, even though abby did love etching a reaction out of you, she wanted something more; beyond the snarky exchanges you guys had.

so with this arrangement you guys had goin’ on — all it did was fuel that even more.

to your pretty little moans to her ears, your strawberry glossed-lips, and how you chanted her name reaching your high.

she didn’t want anybody else to have this — have you.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who you continue with this fwb thing for two-months. it was at first to you, a way to release pent-up frustration with school and life, plus the sex was good. but after a while

… you wouldn’t just immediately leave after you guys fucked, sometimes you and abby would actually have civil conversations, joke around, watch movies in bed, cuddle.

it was all starting to seem … coupley. and it scared you how much you didn’t mind it.

not minding when she arrived after-practice sweaty, at your doorstep, showering you with kisses, not minding her head on your lap as she slept snoring softly, and not minding staying up late, embarrassingly-waiting for abby to respond to your texts.

it’s not entirely glitz and glamor. you guys would still argue, more so about stupid shit. 

like who’s gonna get the remote that’s on the floor, which results into a big disagreement.

(⭑) ── yet as the weeks passed, the arguments seemed to dwindle and sometimes, abby would apologize, with your favorite food in hand.

it's very unfinished but yay i posted! 😭

[stark-ironman]

I am in love with your writing, and I am also OBSESSED with Hugh, I simply need to give this man five children, anyway, could you please do something with Hugh now, with a younger girlfriend, maybe 21? She's getting pregnant for the first time and being scared, and Hugh is there for her as the sweet and loving man he is 🙏🏻❤️ plss, sorry for the bad english, it's not my first language, tkss

I'll be there for you

A/N: I loved writing this! I wish it was longer but I might come around and do another part to this. I hope you like it! Always remember you can send in more requests!

Warnings: Accidental pregnancy, age gap (reader is 21, I made Hugh 51)

Positive +

Your breath hitches as you look at the four tests laying on the counter. This wasn't supposed to happen, not when you and Hugh made sure to be really careful when having sex because you two agreed on just being friends with benefits, nothing more. There's absolutely no way he wants to have a baby at his age. Not that he's too old but you know he's had other plans for his life that never involved a baby.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you from your thoughts and you read it.

"Come over when you get done. I want to see you." Hugh texts, making you start panicking. Fuck, fuck, fuck... what are you going to tell him? Better yet, how?

Taking a deep breath, you stick the tests in a bag and drive over to Hugh's place, a little slower than normal but you arrive faster than you planned.

"Great to see you, love." Hugh smiles as he hugs you, letting you walk inside and you give him a small smile. "Do you need to put the stuff in the bag up?" He asks. You start fidgeting with the bag, feeling your heartbeat and breath start picking back up.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?" Hugh starts immediately asking, pulling you in for a hug. Apologies fall from your mouth as tears run down your face, handing him the bag.

He looks at you confused but opens it, pulling the test out while you try to read his face for any kind of emotion. "You're pregnant?" His voice is hoarse as he continues to stare at it. "Yeah, I found it when you texted me earlier." You sniffle, wrapping your arms around yourself. "Well, what do you think about it?" He asks.

"I don't know. I know you didn't want anymore kids, especially with someone as young as me. I wasn't even sure if I wanted kids and now..." Your voice trails off and he motions for you to continue, "Now I want to keep the baby. I know you probably don't want to but I'll raise the baby by myself and I-" Hugh cuts you off by kissing you, running his hand through your hair.

"I never thought I would want kids again but being with you these past several months has made me question what I want out of life. I know I'm too old for you.. fuck, we probably should've never gotten together but I can't help but feel a deep love for you. I've loved you for a long time now but I was okay with being your fuck buddy. I want this life with you and our baby too. We can have as many babies as you want if it meant I get to be with you." Hugh confesses, not caring that he's rambling.

You stand on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. "I love you too, Hugh. I want this life with you. I've never cared about your age and that won't change, ever." He smiles at you, leaning down and pressing his lips against your stomach.

[visionsofcarnality]

can we get headcanons for gilf!Joel maybe? his slicked back hair in tlou ep3 stirred something in me 🥵🥵🥵

i like the way you think…

Silver Fox ! Joel Miller Headcanons NSFW!!

Traditional old man in every sense of the word, he doesn’t make cheesy comments when you grab a door handle but he does give you a scolding little glare that totally doesn’t light a fire in your panties.

Self conscious about his somewhat saggy skin around his chest, middle, and extremities even after you’ve assured him until you’re blue in the face. You do help him though. Watching how attracted you are to his body even aged as it is definitely strokes his ego.

Has an online refillable prescription for Viagra that gets delivered to his apartment, and when he takes it he becomes an absolute fiend.

Usually without the Viagra he still is able to throughly satisfy you with ages of foreplay and a nice thorough fucking, leaving you both satisfied after one climactic round.

But when he takes Viagra-

You better clear your schedule and invest in a massage gun for your legs afterwards because you are going to be SORE.

I’m talking several positions, screaming until your throat hurts, your pussy feeling raw and used, daylong marathon sex.

Joel doesn’t seem to soften even a fraction until your body is wailing in protest and you can’t feel your thighs anymore.

You don’t think he could possibly have any more left in him until he’s once again emptying his heavy, full balls into your cunt; adding to the previous loads from the past six rounds he’s already shot into your body.

When he’s not fucking you stupid with the assistance of his little blue pills, he’s treating you like the princess you’d expect he would.

Don’t even think about carrying your own groceries, what are you, crazy?

Speaking of groceries…

If you aren’t living together yet best believe he’s on your doorstep every Sunday at 11AM with a truck full of groceries, dropping them off after church let’s out and he’s free to go to the store.

He makes you sit and continue sipping your coffee/tea while he puts them away, simultaneously checking the sell-by dates of everything in your fridge and pantry like a man obsessed.

Like a true old fashioned southern boy, he won’t tell you he’s in love with you. But he will point out the amount of things expired in your house.

“Come on, now. You’re gonna get sick, this is ridiculous-“ As if he hasn’t brought you your favorite brand of cereal and all your preferred snacks. Even all those “Shitty, organic, cardboard crap” things you love.

Never had a good plate of grits? He’s making them meticulously for you the morning after a hookup. “Eat, you need it. That stuff’ll keep you goin’ all day.”

Is all too supportive of your flimsy little sundresses. The gauzy fabric floating around your legs like a visualization of your perfume, nearly beckoning him closer. Even when you’re looking like a good little church girl in your soft, flowy dresses… all he can think about is how easy it would be to bend you over and have his way with you.

Which he does the second he brings you home from his cousin’s cookout in the suburbs.

Did I mention that he got a vasectomy after his divorce? Still, seeing you with his now adult daughter makes him daydream about getting you pregnant.

Which he finds insane… He doesn’t want any more kids, he physically can’t have any more kids… But the only thing he can think about right now is burying his cum in your pussy and keeping you pampered in his house with your belly full of his babies.

That vasectomy won’t stop him from trying his damndest, though. Especially after Sarah (who he had young) has her first baby and he watches you hold the six month old infant for the first time.

This man is a GENTLEMAN in the most old fashioned sense of the word.

Like, I cannot stress that enough.

If you’re an independent person, prepare to be thoroughly pampered.

His old fashioned chivalrous ways may be frustrating sometimes but it really does come from a place of just wanting to show his love.

Like when he insists on driving you everywhere whenever you go places together, or when he always finds a way to move you to the side of his body furthest away from the sidewalk when you walk, or when he automatically picks up your purse when you meet so that he can carry it for you.

But you forget all about those minor annoyances when he bends you over your kitchen table and pounds you into next week, muttering nonsense about how you’re too young for him or how you’re such a dirty girl for wanting him and his old man cock.

You moan his name when he grips both your hips in a tight but loving hold, all too willing to forgive him for his incessant door opening when you’re all dumbed down on his cock, the cock which is now way too hard and blood filled because he definitely popped one of your favorite blue pills a while ago.

But much like the gentleman he is, after he fucks you into a blissed-out stupor, he carries you to the bed and wipes your spent pussy clean, cuddling you into the mattress and running his hands through your hair while you both come down from your highs.

When he does get insecure about the age difference between you, all you can do is kiss his leathery, stubbled cheek and wrap your arms around him… Convincing him with your actions instead of words that his age is only a factor in your attraction to him… And that you love him for what makes him him.

this post got way too long but NONNIE I HOPE I DID YOU JUSTICE!!

[wileys-russo]

bad mood blues II a.putellas x reader

little jealous bf ale fluff based around this request here bad mood blues II a.putellas

you waved to the fans as you did a lap unable to keep the grin off your face, patri’s arm slung over your shoulder as ona was tucked into your other side.

“i do not think we will ever see her sad again after this, i think her face is broken.” ona teased squishing your face which as expected continued to break out into a beaming smile.

“scoring your first hat trick will do that to someone!” patri laughed, breaking away from you as fans screamed out her name and waved their jerseys in her direction.

“so amor, excited for the private celebrations with your lover?” ona teased quietly as you blushed bright red and smacked her on the shoulder.

“be quiet! people are very good at lip reading these days.” you warned with a scowl, having known the young spaniard for several years now playing a with her at united before being bought by barcelona once your contract was up.

it was safe to say the two of you were stuck to one another’s sides like glue the moment ona finally returned home, mapi often teasing the two of you were like siamese twins seperated at birth.

which of course prompted ona to tease about your lack of natural tan and english upbringing that it was an insult to her to be tied to you in such a way.

this was normally once you’d return from international or seasonal break, your barcelona tan fading within days of returning home to manchester.

though it was first through ona that you met alexia, yet another thing she was relentless to never let you live down.

it all started during the euros when ona had hung around waiting for you after england played spain, determined to swap shirts and introduce you to some of her friends.

that lead to an incredibly nervous you being all but kidnapped by the over confident defender and dragged with her toward the spanish locker room, digging your feet in the entire time until she pushed you through the door.

the room had fallen silent just for a split second and your eyes widened, trying to push past your friend and make a hasty exit but just as quickly as silence fell it seemed you were suddenly old news and everyone fell back into their conversations.

again dragged around by ona you stumbled through the basic spanish she’d taught you as she introduced you to a few of her teammates and friends, the last of all being alexia.

within the moment going toe to toe with the woman you’d just relentlessly humiliated by lobbing a ball through her legs to score the match winner was a daunting fate, which wasn’t helped by the steely calm nature of her demeanor and rather stern appearance.

her spanish was faster than most of the other girls and you needed ona to translate despite her repeatedly asking alexia just speak to you in english which she refused.

though despite her seeming disscontempt toward you, you’d found out mere months later that she was actually rather impressed, and within a few days of your move to barcelona was making more of an effort to befriend you and make sure you felt welcomed in than you’d expected.

though you suppose you could really put that down to ona calling up each and every single one of her national team mates and warning they look after you or else she’d be on the first plane over to sort them out.

needless to say long story short you and alexia had befriended one another, which after its run its course had quite quickly turned into a harboured crush that ona found endless pleasure to tease you for as you begged her over and over not to mention it to anyone.

she didn’t of course but with alexia having confided in mapi about her own feelings toward you, it didn’t take long for the scheming and the meddling to begin, and the rest was a story for another day.

“hey isn’t that-“ ona hadn’t even finished speaking before you spotted her, eyes widening as you raced over toward the barrier, your best friend shouldering her way to the front as politely as she could.

“rosie?!” your grin somehow widened to the point you were shocked your face hadn’t split in half, the taller girl hanging awkwardly down from the barricade as you wrapped her in a hug with a laugh of disbelief.

“surprise?” the brunette beamed, cheeks flushed as you opened and closed your mouth in surprise, a few fans around all calling out for your name. “how did you even-“ you trailed off still in shock at her sudden appearance.

“we were headed for portugal but a little birdy told me you were feeling a bit homesick and might benefit from a few more brits around!” the girl nodded over your shoulder as you glanced behind you to see keira send you a grin and a nod as you mouthed thank you and she waved you off turning back to her conversation with aitana and salma.

what you didn’t see was your girlfriends at first curious glance toward you, further away and not able to see who it was you were so seemingly enamoured with her brows furrowed into a frown as she crossed her arms over her chest.

much as she might deny it over and over you knew exactly the type of hot blooded woman alexia was, and that was the jealous type. she’d never assume poorly of you or your actions, she trusted you not to ever do anything.

but it was other people alexia didn’t trust, which wasn’t helped by the fact you were hopelessly oblivious when being flirted with, forever just brushing it off as people being nice.

alexia first and foremost knew of your inability to read people’s true intentions. considering it had taken her asking you out twice before you realised she meant as more than friends and apologised profusely for being so blind which really amused the catalan more than anything.

but now, now you were hers she didn’t find it quite so cute and amusing, in fact it was positively infuriating that you never seemed to catch onto peoples true intentions and it was something that caused more debates than alexia cared to rehash.

so with that in mind and her blood running even hotter than usual she’d busied herself with post match media duties before slinking off to the change rooms.

but a glance over her shoulder before she went only worsened her mood seeing that what felt like hours later you were still hung up on chatting with the mystery brunette who just couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of you.

“duty calls superstar, i’m here with ben for another few days before we backpack to portugal. i promised id take him to dinner as penance for coming with me tonight but call me later and we can meet up properly tomorrow?” your best friend offered as the chants for your attention from fans grew and you nodded eagerly, kissing her cheek and dropping back down to the ground, the girl melting back into the ground as you started to make rounds signing things and taking photos.

still on cloud nine from your hat trick you stayed out longer than usual, reveling in your good mood as you made your way around to as many fans as you could. but with a wave from ona who'd ventured back out to remind you of the time you apologized and broke away, striding toward the tunnel.

"that was your best friend si? the one who has been travelling?" ona clarified as you nodded happily, launching into a recount of rosies nomad like life she loved, flitting from odd job to job living in vans, tents, share houses or hostels.

the girl had always been a free spirit and done her best to bring out the same in you all throughout high school where you'd met.

as soon as you both graduated, you moving into a full time football career and her to travel the world, you'd stayed close and made every effort to keep one another updated on your lives despite not seeing one another very often.

"does she know about..." ona made a face as you nodded. "yeah she does, not exactly who but she knows i'm seeing someone and i have no doubt she'll kick my door in if i don't bring ale with me when i see her." you chuckled as ona hummed with an amused smile, the two of you arriving to the change rooms which were rapidly emptying out.

"mario have you seen ale?" you frowned, unable to spot your girlfriend anywhere. "oh she left awhile ago amiga, seemed in a hurry." mariona smiled apologetically seeing you frown, thanking her.

"i'll drive you chica but be quick!" ona teased, referencing the way you used to infamously take the longest showers post game at united, though back then you drove yourself and it wasn't an issue.

alexia almost always driving you now you'd had an incentive and a reason to be fast not wanting to keep her waiting, something else ona was able to tease you for.

"gracias soldier." you kissed ona's cheek as she pulled up outside alexia's apartment complex, punching you lightly for the nickname as you grabbed your bag and waved her off.

unaware that anything was off you just assumed alexia forgot you would need a lift, having slept at your own place last night for the first time in days as alexia had an event, ona had picked you up this morning.

but the routine which existed between the two of you meant that after every match you wound up back at her place so you assumed tonight would be no different as you punched in her code and let yourself into the elevator.

you shifted your bag on your shoulder and knocked again when your girlfriend didn't answer the first time, settling as you heard her footsteps eventually sound from inside as the door swung open.

"were you asleep babe?" you laughed at her semi disheveled state, the older girl shrugging wordlessly as you stepped past her and made your way inside, more than comfortable in her place as she was in yours.

you didn't pick up on her mood right away, busying yourself changing into one of her hoodies as alexia settled herself on the lounge where she'd been prior to your arrival, already showered and changed herself.

"hola mi vida." you started to sense maybe something was off when you leant in for a kiss and your lips met her cheek, blanked as she tucked her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms, the closed off body language another tell tale sign of her bad mood.

trying to just chalk it up to tiredness post game you didn't mention anything, the taller girl fixated on a football match on the tv as you decided to make the two of you something to eat.

you glanced over to her every now and then, frown deepening when it seemed as if she barely noticed you were there.

normally alexia was all over you, especially after you'd played well, even if it was just as simple as the way she'd stick tightly to your back as you cooked.

but her arms never snuck around your waist, chin never rested on the top of your head, her lips never gently peppered your neck with soft kisses and so you began to wonder if perhaps you'd done something to upset her.

you tried to engage her in conversation but only receiving singular words or hums in response you abandoned that quickly. now quite certain she was upset about something whether it be with you or not.

almost finished cooking you wracked your brain for what you could have done to cause this, but even with all of your might you couldn't come up with anything.

the blonde had been fine with you prior to the game and at half time, stern captains persona dwindling for a moment as she mumbled into your hair how well you were playing and sneakily kissed you when it seemed no one was looking.

but now when it was her who could barely glance at you for more than a few seconds, everything suddenly felt very different.

dishing up two bowls you quickly rinsed things and left them in the sink to be washed later. despite the large dining room table in the middle of alexia's living room you don't think the two of you had eaten on it enough times for you to need two hands to count.

so handing her the bowl, a quiet thank you mumbled as again her eyes remained on the tv you settled in beside her, leaving a gap between the two of you which felt like it was miles long despite it really only being a few centimetres.

the two of you ate in silence, alexia finishing first as her bowl was placed on the coffee table as yours soon joined and you decided to address your worries.

"ale." you started softly, gently nudging her thigh with your knee as she hummed but otherwise remained quiet. "is something wrong baby?" you asked cautiously, a shake of her head all you got in return.

"okay. because it seems like you're upset about something and if i've done anything can we please talk about it?" you requested, messing about with your fingers in your lap. "i am not upset amor." alexia replied quietly and your tension melted a tiny bit hearing the nickname but still she would not meet your eye.

you accepted her words at first, grabbing your bowls and heading back to the kitchen to wash up. once again most times you even tried your girlfriend was there in a second, lifting you up to sit on the counter and refusing to let you help.

but just like when you cooked she remained on the sofa engrossed in the football, only getting up to use the bathroom as you finished and returned by her side.

the alarm bells sounded once more when you grabbed her arm and tried to tuck into her side. the blonde gently pushed you back, mumbling about wanting a little space in spanish making you frown.

"alexia." you sighed, patience wearing thin as she hummed. "alexia!" you spoke a lot firmer now, standing to move and block her eyeline toward the tv with a frown.

"mi amor i can tell you are upset. please stop being so stubborn and tell me whats wrong so we can talk about it!" you ordered, crossing your arms and shuffling side to side as she tried to crane her neck to see past you.

"alexia!" you groaned at the silence that followed, the blonde stretching out down the sofa with a shrug, hands folded behind her head. "why are you being like this?" you asked again, tone softening a little as the insecurity started to creep through that you'd done something.

"i am not being like anything." "exactly! you're ignoring me, you're being moody-" "you did not seem to care when you were with her."

it was mumbled so quietly you almost missed it, but you didn't and then suddenly everything made sense, blocks falling into place as your worries melted away and a smile curled onto your lips.

"oh my god. you're jealous!" you laughed, which was probably the wrong response as your girlfriend gave you a glare and halfheartedly kicked you, ordering you to move out of her way as she was missing the game.

"ale, angel." you started, wrenching her arms away from where they were crossed tightly over her chest, settling your body on top of her. "why are you jealous mm?" you smiled, hands falling to clasp her cheeks, turning her head and forcing her to look at you.

"who was that girl? the one you hugged for a very long time." alexia countered with a question of her own, hands moving to grip your hips. "my other girlfriend." you answered casually, alexias fingers digging into the soft skin of your sides warning you against teasing.

"dios mio ale. that was my best friend, rosie. the one who is always travelling! she is on her way to portugal with her fiance and dropped in to see me." you smiled, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of her jawline.

only receiving a hum in response you rolled your eyes, growing tired of her moody behavior. "how many times-" you dipped your head and placed a kiss to the collumn of her throat. "-do i have to assure you-" the next ones were either side of her neck.

"-that the only person i have eyes for-" now a kiss just beneath her ear, teeth tugging teasingly at the lobe. "-is you." you kissed her nose, smiling softly.

"you are not the problem, it is other people i do not trust."

"you think my best friend is going to pull a move on me? mi vida i know you are a jealous woman but that is something else." you grinned, alexia's frown melting into a slight pout as she huffed.

"not what i meant!" "no but you are being moody for no reason."

"you know i scored all those goals for you today baby, nobody else." you mumbled, kissing all over her face and purposefully avoiding her lips as her pout grew a little with each one.

"you missed." alexia demanded, her own hands now moving to grab your face halting the treasure map your lips were creating along her skin. "oh lo siento mi amor." you nodded understandingly, leaning in as if to kiss her but moving so your lips pressed against her temple.

"hey!" alexia exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing making you grin. "i love you, only you. silly stubborn jealous idiot!" you teased, pecking her lips repeatedly in between each word.

"next time, talk to me amor. don't just be a big moody baby!" you cooed pinching her cheeks, squealing as suddenly you were beneath her, the older girl effortlessly swapping your positions now hovering over you.

"mi amor, mi vida, mi novia, mi corazón-" alexia pressed her lips against yours after each word, clearly making a point as her legs tangled with yours and her fingers interlocked pinning your hands either side of your head.

"-mi cariño, mi niña bonita, mi preciosa, mine." alexia rasped, finally kissing you properly as you shifted beneath her, her tongue slipping in and filthily roaming your mouth as you withheld the urge to moan.

the catalan pulling away both of your chests heaved and her thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging on it slightly as her soft hazel eyes roamed over every single inch of your face.

"mine." she whispered again, kissing you gently and letting go of your hands. her own slipping up the inside of your top you sighed contently, lips moving to your neck as her nose knocked against your jaw encouraging your head turn to give her more access.

"now bebita i think i have some goals to reward you for, no?"

[vonlycaonwife]

May I please have a smexy von lycoan x maid!reader, (fem please) where the new maid is a clutz and gets on Von's nerves on accident. and then one day he loses his composure and decides to 'punish' her and maybe teach her a lesson about proper serving etiquette. please scenario, i would like to hear your thoughts. ;)

I know who you are you sonuva- ANYWAY yeah I can do that.....lord help me

Female reader! Also very ooc!

Warnings: Smut, breeding, face fucking, knotting, dubious consent, unbalanced power dynamics (boss/worker like), severely ooc, partially written before game release

He has just about had it.

A few months ago the agency had just hired a new employee, one that Lycaon had to supervise. She seemed very sweet and excited to do her job, something he enjoyed seeing since those at Victoria Housekeeping Co. must have a good head on their shoulders to do their job.

But then it turned out she was even more of a clutz than Corin, something that's baffled almost everyone.

An often occurrence would be her cleaning something to perfection, only to end up breaking said thing. Another would be her always burning whatever it was she was baking, or adding too much of something. Even during hollow raids she and others end up getting hurt by her own weapon rather than by ethereal. Mainly the only thing she can do is serve tea and even that's a fifty-fifty on if she'll drop the cup in your lap or not. It was astounding how many things went wrong when she was near, though she was always apologetic over every mess up.

And today Lycaon had to scold her once again over the continuous trip ups, though he has not done that yet since the woman was late for their meeting again. 

It was bad enough for him that he had to deal with his own body that was determined to start a rut, but combine that with the fact that the woman that irritated him to no end also had a scent that drove him mad. He usually had better control over himself, but every time something happened that involved her he would have to steel his nerves or otherwise he would go into a full rut. It annoyed him to no end. Though he supposed it was why he was harsher on her than he was on anyone else, as much as he hated to admit. Others had brought it up to him about his behavior, but he would rather be harsher than act like a feral dog. 

"You're late." He huffed once he heard the door open, he turned his eyes to meet the doe like ones of the woman. He held back a growl as her scent entered his nose, quickly placing his hands onto the desk to keep himself from tearing into his uniform. She flinched at his tone, brows pinched in anxiety.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to run here to be on time and...I bumped into someone and caused another mess. I cleaned it up though! So it's no worries!" She reassured, waving her hands around in an attempt to placate his wrath. She tried to smile even when the atmosphere began to grow cold, something that irritated the man even more.

"Another one? How many has that been today?" He asked angrily, his claws just barely scratching into the wood of his desk. Her scent was driving him mad, he had to keep his mind off of it by directing his growing frustrations onto her. 

The woman flinched again, fear rising within her. While she was used to being scolded, this kind of anger aimed towards her was new and frightening. At most the wolf was only ever annoyed or frustrated, but now she felt like she was about to be eaten alive.

"It seems you need another lesson." He said, suddenly calm. At least what she thought was calm, but at meeting his eyes once again all she could see was unbridled anger. Along with something else she couldn't discern. As he stood she froze in place, her hands gripping onto her skirt tightly her knuckles almost turned white. The two kept eye contact as the large man walked his way around his desk, ignoring the claw marks, before standing directly in front of the woman. "We've had this conversation so many times, but it seems you're not getting it.”

"I-I'm sorry Sir! I'll do better, I promise!” She begged, straining her neck to look up at him. While she wasn't that short, she always had a hard time not cramping her neck whenever she had to look at Lycaon. She shivered under his gaze, steeling her nerves so she wouldn't step back in fear. While she is able to handle most things, right now it almost felt like she was prey staring into the face of a predator. “Really I will.”

“You say that…” He started, before suddenly growling with a ferocity that terrified her. She suddenly backed up, her mind running over what options she had, before her back ran into the door behind her. She quickly turned around, her flight instincts blaring danger in her head, attempting to open the door before she felt hands slam onto the surface beside her. Frozen in place she could only be aware of her thoughts screaming at her to run, before it all stopped when she felt his breath hit her neck. “And yet you never seem to improve.”

Lycaon can only berate himself as his own body had seemed to be taken over by his instincts. Just the sight of her looking up at him with her wide eyes had made him mad, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be closer to her. Her scent was overriding his sense of smell, the feel of her shaking in fear under him was embarrassingly delicious. He didn't think of himself to be cruel, and yet he relished in her fear. His hands were shaking against the door, claws scratching at the surface while he barely tried to reign in himself.

“Do you even know how much you irritate me? How annoying it is to have to have these talks with you every damn week?” He growled out, his nose brushing against her hair as he spoke. His claws dug deeper into the wooden surface as he tried to keep himself from touching her with them. He knew if he did that he couldn't go back, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together like he barely is at this moment. His sharp ears heard her gasp as the sound of wood splitting rang out. “Do you even know how hard it is to keep myself contained with that smell of yours?”

“I-”

“Shut up.” He brushed his teeth against the skin of her neck, groaning as he heard her whimper in fear. But what also caught his attention was that her scent somehow became even more potent, making him realize something. He slowly released his hands from the wooden surface, giving them a quick glance for any potential splinters, before dropping to his knees. His hands lifted up her skirt, releasing an enormous wave of her scent. He quickly moved his face closer to her, his nose brushing against her core.

“S-Sir!” She yelped, her hands moving to try and move him away before he could realize. But she stopped when he heard him growl, ordering her to stay in place. Understanding he figured out how she was suddenly turned on by the sudden turn of events, she obeyed his order. She stared at the patterns of the wood, trying to keep her mind off the fact that her superior was suddenly sniffing her like a horny animal. Not that she minded too much, as she had developed a small crush on him since gaining her job at the company. 

“Lesson one, speak when spoken to.” He said, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he nudged them to spread apart.

“B-But-”

“Quiet.” He ordered, before pressing his nose against her once more. He could feel his entire body shiver as the woman's scent flooded his senses. His ears could pick up the noises she tried to repress, causing him to huff in amusement. He used one hand to move the thin fabric that separated him from her bare skin aside, making it possible to place his long tongue along her folds.

“Ah! S-Sir wait-”

“I said, be quiet.” He grunted, adding a growl to emphasize his order. He felt her freeze from his tone as he swiped his tongue over her once more. The taste that spread on his tongue was like heaven to him, completely making him forget the world around him as he pushed his face deeper to taste more.

As his tongue entered her, her hands quickly flew to cover her mouth to prevent any noises from escaping. Her forehead leaned against the door as she tried to even out her breathing, her legs began to shake as she felt his tongue reach deeper. She could feel his hands gripping tighten as a way to keep her still, his claws digging into her skin in a way that brought no pain to her. 

Soon she began to feel that familiar coil within her tighten, causing her to grip onto her face harden. She could feel his tongue quicken its pace as her walls constricted, her whole body shook as she felt that coil ready to burst. Only to be met with a sudden emptiness causing her to quickly turn her head around to see him stand up. She wanted to ask why he stopped, before she suddenly was lifted into the air. Squealing at the movement, she wiggled in his grip before she found herself placed onto one of the plush chairs. After blinking a bit to understand what had happened, she looked up to see his piercing red eye staring down back at her.

“Lesson two, all employees must fulfill their tasks with perfect proficiency.” Lycaon barely spoke, adjusting his belt before pushing down his slacks to reveal his hardening member. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in his size, her thighs squeezing together in both mild fear and anticipation. Wordlessly she adjusted herself in the seat and hesitantly wrapped one hand around him, slowly moving it along the shaft. She closed her eyes in embarrassment, but a gentle began to pet her head, making her meet his eyes once more. “Just relax.”

His voice was very gentle, putting her in a shock before she could realize he removed her hand and pressed the head of his cock against her slightly parted lips. She almost jumped at the contact before that hand gripped her hair to keep her in place. The low growl he released was the only warning he would give her. Shivering she widened her opened mouth and slowly gave small licks, earning a hum in approval. Soon she leaned forward, bringing the head into her mouth and sucking. Her hands were gripping onto the skirt of her uniform, knuckles turning white as she tried her best to keep her mouth wide enough to accommodate his size. 

Quickly the thirian took charge and began to move his hips slowly, pushing his length further and further down her throat. As time went on his pace became rougher and faster, causing tears to start welling in her eyes. But she made no complaint, only kept her eyes shut as she focused on breathing through her nose. Embarrassingly she could feel the spot on the cushion seat below her become damp, making her whine against him. Though she could barely hear herself over the growls the man was releasing. Soon she could feel him pulsate against her tongue, but before he could cum, he released himself from her mouth. 

Before she could question anything, she suddenly felt him grab her by the waist and all but slam her onto the desk. But nothing happened, he only stared into her eyes. It’s as if he was hesitant to do anything else, his claws gripping onto with the same intensity as earlier. The two stayed in their fixed position before one finally spoke.

“Do you want this?” The words barely came out of the thirian, more so only able to leave past his lips with his pants.

“W-What?”

“I’m asking if you truly want this, because if this goes further then we can’t go back.” He slowly explains, like he was in a daze.

“Oh…” She blinks, her muddled brain struggling to fully comprehend what he was saying. But once it settled itself within her thoughts did all the muddiness completely disappear. “O-Oh! Y-Yeah I am! I’ve uh…”

Her face flushes as she attempts to get her thoughts in order. “I’ve already…had some feelings for you so…if you don’t-eep!”

His lips slam onto hers, interrupting her words. She lets out a surprised squeal, tensing in his grip, before relaxing and wrapping her arms around his neck. She moaned as his tongue explored her mouth, swallowing her noises as he reached one hand to rub circles around her clit. Soon she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance, causing her to tense once more.

“Relax.” She could barely hear him say as he slowly thrust himself inside. Her insides almost felt like they were on fire from the sheer intense heat of his length. When he finally completely filled her, tears were running down her face as she tried not to move and adjust. Lycaon trailed soft kisses all over her face as he waited for her to give the go ahead. Soon she began to relax, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Reading her body languages, Lycaon began to move his hips at a slow pace. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on not losing control, the way he could only smell her scent and the fact it was all over him made him almost go insane. The one hand still holding onto the desk tightened around the wood, close to splinting it like what he did with the wall earlier. He had moved his other hand to her clothed waist, keeping her in place as soon began to speed up. Her whines rang out of the room, adding fuel to the fire of his loosening restraint.

As he focused on controlling his instincts, he somehow didn’t notice her fingers settling into the fur at the back of his neck. She gave it a quick pull, not too harsh to pull out any fur, making him groan in pain. He opened his eyes to meet her own, glaring down at her intensely. He leaned down, growling out harsh words of disapproval. But the lustful gleam he saw in her eyes and her whiny begging was what finally drove him to let go. Slamming his hips against hers with wild abandonment, his teeth gently biting at the exposed skin of her neck while his hands grabbed onto her legs to move them on top of his shoulders. 

He was taking it all in, the sound of her moans and high pitch screams, the taste of her sweat and tears on his tongue, and the smell of their scents mingling together along with the growing smell of sex. He even could hear his own groans and growls, though his focus moved quickly to the feeling of his swelling knot enlarging. His instincts were urging him to push it in right this instant, but he had some restraint left to wait. 

Meanwhile she was overwhelmed by his rough pace, tears flowing down her face as she was slammed with wave after wave of pleasure. She could barely think, her mind only focused on the feeling of him filling her to the brim. But soon she could feel that familiar coil within her, tightening at such an alarming rate. Her voice began to break as it reached a higher pitch than her vocal cords were able to handle, her hands clutching onto his fur in search of anything to stabilize herself. She tried to let any words out, but was once more interrupted by him kissing her. She could only moan into his mouth as she felt something bigger push into her. Her eyes widened in shock as his knot was thrusted in, her body tensing and squirming as the rush of pleasure flooded her veins once more. Released from the kiss, she could only whine as her insides were filled with his hot seed.

“Wait.” He said, gently keeping her in place as she squirmed. “Give it a few minutes.”

She nodded in response, having no energy for words. He chuckled at that, amused at her state. Once he was able to remove himself, he shushed her as she whined from the loss. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, as her body finally relaxed after everything. She barely felt him move her to sit back in the chair she had stained, hearing him whisper about returning with cleaning rags and other necessary items. She wasn't able to respond before sleep finally overtook her.

She wasn't able to see the soft he gave her, nor did she even realize he had kissed her forehead. He quickly made himself suitable again before quietly leaving through the door, locking it to make sure no one would walk in on the mess he had to clean up. Though he's sure he would walk into an even bigger mess once the woman wakes up and tries to clean. But he isn't too upset about that fact now.

Since it just means he has an opportunity to teach her another “lesson.”

[loafgeto]

KINKMAS DAY TWO: AGE GAP WITH SATORU

synopsis | why do you always go to your dad’s workplace? well, to simply drop him off his lunch! but somehow you always end up in his boss’s office.

contents | fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language, secret relationship, AGE GAP (reader is in early 20’s while satoru is early 40’s), small mentions of tsumiki and megumi (he’s the same age as reader), implied dilf!gojo. NSFW, semi-public sex (gojo’s office - yet again), dirty talk, praising, somewhat cocky gojo, pet names (use of daddy), implied daddy kink, scratch marks, slight cock warming, slight choking (you just like gojo’s hand around your neck🤗), unprotected sex, cumshots, orgasms, squirting. you and gojo nearly get caught. not proofread !!

word count | 4.6k

notes | oh my lord i’ve never used ‘daddy’ in any of my fics before and i nearly cringed bc i remembered something from a long time ago LMFAOOO i’d call gojo daddy though cuz daddy’s home 🗣️🗣️

tags | @aydene @biscuitsngravie @homeslices @tiredkitten @get0sfav @erensflies @bleachisfood @witchbybirth (if you want to be tagged, just let me know!)

your encounter with satoru first happened when your mother requested you to bring your dad’s lunch for him, since he had forgotten it. as any normal daughter would do, of course you’d comply and take the food to your dad, thinking about nothing else but to move along with your day. he just started working under a new organization several months ago, one much larger than his previous corporation and earning a bigger salary.

it was your first time ever in the tall and luxurious building, cramped with busy employees and staff, loud sounds of voices and other noises ringing your eardrums as you navigated through. during that moment, all you knew was that you’re going to get lost, even after several workers by the front desk specifically directed you and gave you a guest pass before returning to their duties. your father message said he was on the ninth floor of the building, so that’s where you venture off to after getting on the elevator.

what was even more astonishing was the complex hallways of the ninth floor. it was awkward for you, arriving at the floor and having absolutely no knowledge of where to go. and while turning a corner, you just so happen to bump into satoru— a man who’d you never thought you’d continue seeing regularly.

at first, it was just a mild attraction. you’ve never seen him before, so you easily mistook him as someone several years older than you. but boy, were you wrong. from your first impression, you presumed satoru as an employee that everyone admired and wanted to be around with, someone who’s confident and playful, sarcastic at times, and enjoys the little things in life. satoru had immediately noticed that you were lost but pretending like you’re weren’t, and he’s teases you about it before inquiring if you need help.

and not wanting to embarrass yourself even more in front of him, you gladly accept the help of this man. and to your luck, satoru happened to know who your dad was, and guided you to the department he was positioned in. and minutes after you met with your dad, was the moment when you found out satoru was your dad’s boss. and that satoru wasn’t even damn close to your age. he was a much older man, almost as old as your own dad. satoru’s voice was raspy, but welcoming with a hint of flirtation. his white hair was natural, glossy blue eyes bright and invigorating enthusiasm like he’s in his 20’s.

you were astonished, embarrassed even to think about the fact you had the hots for him when you immediately saw him. you and your university friends always joked about having an older boyfriend, or a sugar daddy, or someone as old as their own father. you didn’t take it seriously, because you were certain that you’d never get or even find someone close to the age of your dad.

but encountering satoru just so happens to change all of that.

for the next three months, you and satoru often saw each other. your interactions were short, mostly simple hellos and how are yous, nothing more. well, maybe there was more. there was always some sort of intense tension between the two of you: manifesting for you to get close and driving you to want to continue knowing each other better. therefore, this withholding attraction just so happens to lead you to a night with satoru in a bed of a hotel.

obviously, you both agreed to keep your relationship a secret, especially away from your dad. you feel penitent sometimes whenever you hear your dad boast about how amazing satoru is, and how much he’s being promoted and getting recognition for his diligent work. your dad’s an excellent employee, and everyone grew to admire him. but most of his promotions were due to you requesting satoru to do it, well because you want the best for your dad.

and though it’s quite odd to promote a new employee to a high position, satoru still does it— somehow convincing his own bosses to accept your dad’s promotions.

however, your attraction for satoru was fervent and devouring you whole when you were trying to deny such feelings towards him. none of your friends knew about your relationship with satoru, not even your best friend- who you tell everything. he was the same as you, swearing he wouldn’t text or call you anymore and would leave you alone since it’s most likely for the best. his words dagger your heart each time, and it makes you plead for him not. hence, always caused you two to come back to each other. you can never resist the temptation of sending satoru that one message that would lead you to him pounding his heavy cock into you, having you cry for more and grind your body against his.

therefore, your secret relationship then continued for another five months— and well, you’re most definitely certain that you’re in love with satoru. but you’re probably never going to disclose such information, though you’re certain you make it obvious. satoru’s love life was never as fortunate either. his relationship with his previous wife consisted of countless arguments, disagreements and misunderstandings that she couldn’t handle it anymore. but that’s all you know, and you figured he’d probably never get too serious with a 20 year old and just wants to mess around for the fun of it.

so, you’re deciding to take this moment of fun until you both officially come to terms of no longer contacting each other.

your dad’s aware of the bond you and satoru share, but he only thinks it’s because of your similar interests in traveling. whenever satoru is invited to your parents’ home and you’re there, he’d always inform you about his weekend or business trips, encouraging you to go and buying you souvenirs. you both pretend as if you never see each other, but of course, it’s most likely possible that you two were fucking in his car the night before. your dad had never once assumed anything sexual between you and satoru, so you both got away with it perfectly.

today’s another day where you’re dropping off your dad’s lunch. you offered to bring your dad lunch nearly every single day, which allowed your mother to prepare warm dishes for him. and because of your regular visits, nearly everyone on the ninth floor knew about you. they always greeted you, welcomed you with smiles and short taps on the shoulder. most of the men tease your dad, since they wanted their daughters to bring them their lunch too but other than that, no one ever speculates on the other reasons why you’re actually there.

“[name]! you’re here early,” your dad greets you whenever you approach his office desk. he takes a quick glance at the bento box wrapped in your hand and smiles. “i wonder what your mother made for me today. i can already smell how wonderful it is.”

you chuckle. “right? i almost ate it on the way here.”

“are you hungry too? we can share,” your dad replies with a short laugh as you place the bento box down on his desk. “just give me about ten more minutes, sweetie. i’m almost done with my final documents,” he adds on next to which you shake your head.

“it’s alright, dad. i have to get going now anyway. i’m meeting up with several of my friends for a study session, i’ll see you later tonight though,” you reply, smiling before leaning down to peck a kiss on your dad’s cheek. he sighs, disappointed since he always looks forward to sharing his lunches with you but he returns a wide smile.

“okay, my daughter, no problem at all. call me whenever you’re coming over then,” your dad utters, and you nod before saying your final byes and waves.

as you disappear from your dad’s sight, you quietly slip to the restroom nearby. he thinks you’re leaving, but you’re actually not. interestingly enough, this restroom was just right across from satoru’s office, and you always used the area to your advantage in order to sneak into his office. it’s worked countless of times, and you didn’t even notify satoru about coming to see him today, since it wasn’t like you go there everyday.

there wasn’t any employees or anyone else around, so you gently knock on his office door. you wait several moments, before hearing him reply from the other side. “come in.”

twisting the knob and opening the door, you step inside, eyes faltering to satoru.

satoru was sitting behind his desk, eyes riveted on the screen of his computer that he didn’t even look away until he detected your figure in his perception. satoru lifts his gaze, surprised that you appeared unexpectedly and stands from his chair. “[name], what are you doing here?” he questions.

“oh, you know- just dropping off my dad’s lunch like always. surprise?” you reply, almost with a giddy attitude as satoru approaches you. he shuts the door behind of you, clicking it locked before pressing his hand on your back to pull you close to him.

“you should’ve called or texted me that you were coming,” satoru pouts, leaning in for a kiss but you turn your head, rejecting his lips and furrow your brows. satoru chuckles, “no kiss today?”

“if you give me a kiss, you know where it’ll lead to.”

satoru smiles, now pressing your body close to his. “i know, princess. but just one? been missing you since yesterday after you left,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your ear that it’s almost hard to resist not crashing your lips onto his.

it’s addicting— satoru and his tender voice, words pulling you in like a magnet and making your heart flit in motions you couldn’t control. you shift your eyes slightly, meeting his gaze before pouting. “i’m guessing that’s a yes then,” satoru smiles wider before leaning in, pressing his lips passionately against yours.

your hands reach behind satoru’s back, nudging into the material of his blazer as he deepens the kiss, holding your body against his. your eyes close shut, lips hungrily moving with satoru’s, and a moan quietly escapes when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. he groped the side of your ass with a hand, gently caressing the fat underneath your denims.

“sa-satoru..” you quietly utter as he breaks the kiss, lowering his lips against your jawline and down your neck. “n-no more..”

“you sure, angel? sounds like you don’t want me to stop though,” satoru purrs, pulling his face away to directly look down at you again. a faint smirk appears on his lips as he drags his thumb over your lips. “we only saw each other for twenty minutes yesterday, ‘nd i wasn’t able to return the favor for you. let me do something quick, yeah?”

satoru’s words are alluring, and you find yourself nodding your head before you even realized it.

whatever satoru meant by ‘doing something quick’, just so happens to steer towards you being stuffed with his cock and riding him while he sits on his chair. you’re both completely naked, clothes discarded around his office’s floor, moans muffled behind of your lips as you slowly rock your hips, moving against the length of his hard member. satoru’s holding his moans too, dick throbbing from the feeling of your gummy walls pulsating and tightening around him.

“you really gotta stop coming here, princess. i’m out of condoms because of you,” satoru speaks softly, a low grunt following after as he feels you squeeze around him when you glide your hips up. initially, satoru wouldn’t have done this because he’s out of protection, but hearing your whiny voice and seeing your desperate expression granted the acceptation of going raw. “b-but you’re the one who-“ you start, pausing when satoru bucks his hips, jerking his cock deep in your aching hole.

“i was the one who what?” satoru repeats with a smug smile, both hands holding the sides of your hips. you squirm, unable to reply at that instant, feeling intense rushes of ecstasy flowing in your veins. “you’re blaming me for this?”

“no..” you finally respond with a short squeal, bouncing your hips faster on his cock. most of the time when you two are having sex, it’s with a condom and you never feel the bare skin of his dick unless it’s in your mouth. but whenever it’s inserted warm and hard into your pussy, you just become an entirely different person— drunk all over him and moving like you’re trying to milk him dry. “‘ts my fault, ‘toru. shouldn’t have c-come here..”

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have, but i’m glad you did,” satoru replies, eyes lowering to where you two connected. his cock twitches each moment he watches your folds spreading just to fit him, his girth getting coated by your slickness and clenched by your overbearing neediness. “can never get tired of my cock, no?”

“never!” you mewl out, your fingertips prodding into the flesh of satoru’s shoulders. your moans pitch louder, nearly resonating the room along with the wet squelching noises of your pussy grinding against satoru’s cock. it’s filthy to hear, but you loved it. “love, love, your cock s’much..”

“you gotta be quiet princess, these walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru groans quietly, slapping your ass as you proceed to bounce your hips. of course, you’re aware of that, you always are but you can’t refrain yourself from moaning like that. especially when satoru’s bare cock is rubbing into you so perfectly, making you reach an orgasm.

“satoru, satoru- please-“ you cry out his name repeatedly, but he quiets your lips by pinning his against yours, having your moans fall into his mouth instead. you know you need to tone your voice down, especially when there’s high chances of people walking outside of satoru’s office. the only benefit of fucking in his office was that there wasn’t any windows peering out to the hall. however, even if these walls were thick enough, satoru knew you’d both get caught eventually because of how loud you’re moaning.

but satoru couldn’t deny the way he loves hearing you utter his name so affectionately and erotically when you’re pleading for more. it makes him feel like he’s special, like he’s being gifted by something no one else can receive from you. you’re so different from his previous partners, it always makes him ponder how he even found himself in a situation with a college girl. he’s not complaining though, not after reaching this far with you. satoru’s thoughts process towards an end when his smirk grows wider because of your cunt fluttering around him, making him realize you’d reach your orgasm.

“‘toru.. please.. want you to fuck me, please,” you whine, pushing your hips down to feel his cock spread your sensitive walls once more. you’re almost rocking against him again before he firmly holds you, smiling at how needy you already became even after orgasming.

“you wouldn’t want your father to know that you’re fucking his boss, do you—?” satoru tilts his head, as he brings one hand to softly thumb the skin underneath your eyelids. “or maybe you do, that’s why you’re begging for me like this.”

“no, no, i don’t. please, satoru- i’ll be quiet, i promise,” you frown, trying to convince him with your sheepish voice. but you both know that wasn’t bound to occur. with the way satoru thrusts his hips, it’s unlikely you’d stay quiet even with something covering your mouth. you bite your lower lip, trying not to move your hips as you cockwarm him for a little while. he gives you an expression of consideration, a small and sly smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

“fine. but on one condition.”

your eyes seem to light up, and nodding your head, you’re indicating that you’ll do anything if it meant satoru fucking you.

“you’ll have to call me daddy,” satoru blurts the condition, raising your body to press you down against his desk, knocking several small objects off the surface and making them roll on the ground. you breathe a small gasp, glancing up at him with a large set of eyes. “am i seeing this as a no?”

you shake your head at an instant, pulling him close by the neck. “n-no.. i’ll say it,” you reply quietly, swallowing lightly.

“hmm?”

“da-daddy… please, i want your cock..” you plead once again, almost breaking gazes with him because of how flustered you felt. you never uttered such name in a sexual setting before, but maybe you’ll start to like it, the way satoru is.

satoru has you in the mating press position, pressing your thighs down close to the cold top of his desk as he pushes his cock past your folds and starts thrusting his hips. your breathy moans starts plummeting fast and it’s just as you thought before, you’re unable to refrain them back. especially with the angle of your g-spot satoru’s cock is scraping against, driving you back towards another orgasm and stirring your core.

“n-ngh- fuck!” you cry, eyes shutting as your hands begin to claw the skin of satoru’s back.

“you really want to get caught, don’t ya?” satoru chuckles, nudging his cock into your deepest parts and feeling your cunt squeeze around him. just as long as everyone outside was occupied and not paying too close attention, you two would most likely be fine. but your voice seems to be pitching higher each moment, potentially drawing others to become curious on what’s happening in this room.

“no! i-i don’t, ‘m sorry, daddy- i’ll really quiet down,” you manage to choke out as he’s gradually pounding into you, heavy balls smacking against your wet vulva. satoru groans quietly, murmuring low explicit words as his fingertips prod the flesh of your thighs. you press your palm over your lips, hoping that’d help your moans stop from reaching further out to the other side of satoru’s office door.

“is my good girl sure ‘bout that? sure she can keep quiet while being fucked by my cock?” satoru grunts, lifting one of his hands to wrap around your neck. he gently presses against your throat, smirking at how you’re covering up your moans even though they’re still audible beneath. well, how can you now when he’s saying that name to address you?

honestly, satoru lost the amount of times he’s fucked you like this. he still remembers the first time— when you both encountered each other in front of a convenience store one late friday night. you were returning home from a college party, while he just finished completing paperwork. surprisingly, you weren’t as drunk as satoru expected, since most college students partied hard. even though you weren’t drunk, you acted like it. stumbling your words, averting your gaze from his, appearing flustered each moment he neared you. there was no stench of alcohol on you, and he speculated you were directing towards something else. however, he didn’t assume further until you two neared a hotel. you seemed to have noticed the building and it must’ve triggered a nerve, as satoru shortly finds your lips pressing on his. you admitted how you wanted him, and that was all when it started.

such a young and horny adult yearning for the touch of an older man. when you two fucked the first time: your cunt openly took in his thick length, your walls opening to fit around him perfectly— such a young pussy satoru never thought he’d have his cock stuffed in. the way your quiet moans quickly turned into loud ones, voice crying out his name until you no longer couldn’t.

satoru had never felt attracted to a younger woman before, specifically one who’s still in college and younger than his own daughter. you were even the same age as his son, megumi. satoru figured you’d probably affix your attraction towards him, but he shortly realizes how you completely disregard the boy, even when megumi showed interest in you under his stoic demeanor.

just what was so special about satoru that made you stay around him?

“fucking around with a man as old as your dad, aren’t you ashamed?” satoru questions, his hand still wrapped around your neck before he pushes your hand away to insert his thumb into your mouth. your tongue instantly swirls around his finger, eyes nearly rolling back because of how rough satoru’s thrusting. “it’s ‘cause i fuck you good, don’t i? that’s why you’re always coming around.”

“n-no, that’s not true!” you cry out, your throat moving against his palm. “then what about you? a-aren’t you messing with someone as old as your daughter?” you repeat the question, making him hiss slightly.

“what if i said i’m not ashamed?” satoru decides to answers, short groans following as he fastens his thrusts, making you wince louder. “if i was, i wouldn’t be doing this with you, y’know. it may be wrong, but it feels right.”

“‘toru—“ you whine, tears welling your eyes as you’re unable to formulate the proper words to respond to him. but they dagger you in the heart, making it pound heavily, flourishing your ears. in this sense, you believed in satoru’s words and you also felt the same he did. “i love you, i love you, satoru,” you manage to chant out.

those three words were something satoru’s never expected to hear from you and for some reason, it switches something in him. he knows why and what it is: he loves you too. he’s just been too afraid to admit it ever since his first marriage failed, claiming that there’s no curse worse than love. satoru claims it’s utter bullshit, that there’s no need for such emotions because of what it can do to a person. but when satoru met you— you just happen to change it all for him.

“f-fuck..” satoru grunts, holding your jawline before kissing you harshly. he’s still thrusting, sensually and rough, pace quickening as he’s nearing his orgasm. “mm- i’m always around you- because i love you, ‘toru!” you repeat again when your lips parts. your mind somewhat was becoming foggy, yet these words are able to slip out casually, but it’s genuine and that’s all you need to get your reason across.

“i love you too, [name]. sososo much,” satoru replies as your lips meet again, your tongues passionately grinding together. his thrusts become harder to the point his desk is shaking and slightly moving to another position. his lips move down to your neck, peppering soft kisses before he whines in your ear. “fuck it. scream all you want, baby. let your dad and everyone else hear how much we love each other.”

your pussy clenches around him at his words. it’s arousing to think about, to imagine other people outside listening to an older man relentlessly fuck his cock into you. you’re already staining satoru’s desk with your arousal, both of your moans mixing with the wet sounds from where you two connected becoming louder that it’d probably be audible from the hall.

“i—i’m cumming.. oh god-“ you can’t fathom how many times satoru has already made you orgasm, you’ve lost track. your body’s sensitive and quivering with the amount of pleasure flowing through your veins. it’s overwhelming, however it feels absolutely amazing.

satoru’s rough drags with his cock has you nudging your nails into the skin of his back once more, leaving long red scratch marks visible on his pale skin. you’re both close, warm bodies chafing against each other’s as time slowly rolls forward. maybe you two didn’t know that there were several people outside of satoru’s office, unbeknownst to what was happening on the other side.

“don’t forget the name, princess. c’mon, let me hear it.”

“daddy!” your cry of pleasure echoes off the walls, it’s incomparable to the sound of his cock ravaging your cunt, plunging deep towards your womb. “a-are you gonna cum, daddy? please cum inside me.”

“y’know, i can’t do that, angel,” satoru grunts, lifting your body off the table and propping you up with his firm hold. he’s never given you a creampie before, out of concern of you getting pregnant since the chances were still much very high despite his age. but seeing how you’re always so desperate for one just makes satoru want to forget the consequences at least once and do it.

“please— ‘toru- ngh, daddy, please!” you whine out, feeling him piston hard into you when you uttered his name. your moans are messy, his thrusts are sloppy and wet, and whoever else is outside is probably aware of what’s happening. but you two couldn’t care about the world, thoughts only occupied with each other’s embraces and passion. “please don’t pull outtt!” you cry next, sucking his cock into your cunt.

but he doesn’t listen to you and pulls out anyway.

“fuck, i’m cumming,” satoru groans before his warm load shoots on your lower belly, and your ejaculation follows next, squirting all over him, parts of his desk and the floor.

gaspy breaths were only heard between you and satoru as he sets you back on the desk, your forehead pressing against his bare chest. you can hear the vibrations of his heart, pounding softly beside your ear as one of his hands reach to hold the back of your head. the moment feels rather romantic, and you couldn’t help but recall to the moment he said he loves you too.

it sends roiling signals to your core and your eyes search for satoru’s face as he was cleaning up the mess on your lower belly. “‘toru..” you whisper softly and he raises his gaze.

“yes?” he replies.

there were no more words uttered when your lips meet his, ever so gently and endearing. you feel satoru smile within the kiss as he pulls your chest close to his. it’s romantic, more than anything you’ve felt before. was this what it was like being in love with an older man? or just, gojo satoru in general?

a knock shortly interrupts you and satoru, causing the two of you to drift away and turn towards the door.

“um.. sir, are you alright in there?”

the voice belonged none other than to your father.

you panic, turning to satoru who shakes his head, indicating for you to remain silent. he keeps a calm expression through all this. satoru then remembered about a small group meeting he needed to attend, but forgot about it due to your arrival. he sighs, “i’m fine. just got distracted a little, please go to the room. i will be there shortly.”

“understood,” your father replies, before quiet hurries leave the other side of the door.

it’s silent again, but just to make sure no one else was still out there, the two of you quickly cleaned up and redressed in your clothes. satoru takes a quick peek into the hall, sighing when there wasn’t anyone around anymore. but that didn’t mean that no one didn’t hear what was happening inside of his office. satoru’s certain that your dad’s aware about him sleeping with someone, but that someone he didn’t know was you. from now on, it’s going to be riskier. but satoru couldn’t stop himself anymore. he returns to you, watching as you were slipping on your shoes.

“you free tonight?” satoru questions, a small grin on his face for a hopeful yes.

“i’m going to my parents’ for dinner tonight,” you reply, approaching him and tiptoeing to give him another quick kiss on the lips. “well.. i mean, i’m free after that though.”

satoru’s eyes burn with excitement, and he wraps his arms around you once more. “come to my house afterwards then. megumi’s out with his friends for the night so it’ll just be you and me,” he explains, lowering his face near yours. “we can have a nice dinner. talk and do whatever. that sound good to you?”

“sounds more than wonderful,” you reply, giggling softly.

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: happy early birthday to my one and only gojo satoru 😴 i should’ve published on his bday but i already have my dates set up UGH it’s ok. hope you guys enjoyed this! once again i was just rushing with the end, LMAO. no pt. 2 for this!! but definitely more dilf/older man gojo fics in the future :P likes and reblogs are always appreciated! thanks for the love and support