#but i felt i owed it to her to at least try?

[allyeilishh]

ᥫ᭡ DRUNKEN KISSES ── .✦ B.E.

Pairing: Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: You got pushed to drink by your friends, even when you didn’t want to. And when you called Billie to come get you, she didn’t hesitate for a moment.

W/c: 2.2k

a/n: I got a little lazy towards the end so I’m sorry for that… but I hope you enjoy it took me like three hours to write this

The loud music thumped in your chest, vibrating through your entire body. You could hear voices laughing and talking around you, but you couldn’t make out exactly what was being said. The lights flashed all around you, a colorful burst of light going around the entire room.

The scent of the room was a mix of alcohol, sweat and strong perfumes, a scent that was awful and rather strong, but you got over it eventually. People were filled in the house, the expensive paintings and luxury all over the room. Even the sink looked like it cost a million bucks.

You didn’t exactly wanted to go to this party—you knew it was just going to be filled with people in their twenties that had nothing better to do with lives. Your friends had forced you to come. They had been pushing you to come to one of the parties they had been hosting for a while, and you always turned them down.

Because frankly, nothing was better than spending your weekend with your girlfriend, Billie. You liked the peace and quiet, the laziness of the weekends, spent in bed or the couch. All with Billie, cuddled under a blanket. But you haven’t been spending a lot of your time with your friends lately, barely texting them, so you felt like you owed them a bit. So you agreed to come.

But now, you were regretting that decision. You were sitting on the couch, your friends surrounding you. Riley, a friend from high school, was sitting on your left, and Bailey was sitting on your right. Your two other friends, Amelia and Charlotte were standing in front of you, arms crossed.

A red solo cup was resting in your hands, and you were acting as if it were a cup of poison. You had never drank before, and you didn’t really plan on ever doing it. You didn’t like the feeling of being out of control of your own body, especially if something else had that control. So you never tried it, not even a drop.

The smell was strong, but a mix of something fruity. Sense it was your first ever drink, your friends did decide to water it down a bit with some juice. The strong, alcoholic scent filled your nostrils, and it felt like your nose hairs would burn off just from smelling it. You made a face of disgust, pulling the cup away from your nose.

"Come on, it’s not that bad! Just some vodka and rum. I mixed it with some Hawaiian Punch. It shouldn’t be too bad. Just a little sip.“ Riley encouraged, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently shaking you.

"It’s so good, you’ll love it! We all had some before.“ Amelia spoke, a smile forming on her face. She looked between you and the cup, as if she was magically going to move the rim of the cup to your mouth.

You swallowed, the nervousness filling your chest. You wanted to turn them down, to say no and just hand the cup off. But you felt like you owed them. You had to at least try. You took a deep breath, bringing the rim of the cup closer to your mouth, taking in the scent of the fruity alcohol once more.

You tilted your head back, your friends all watching in anticipation. And once the liquid hit your tastebuds and went down your throat, the burning sensation immediately started, and you pulled the cup away. The taste was bitter, a little mix of the juice was there, but the alcohols overrided it. The burn reached your throat, and you felt like the muscles in your throat were melting from the burn.

You let out a series of coughs, almost choking on the drink. You heard your friends chuckling around you, and Bailey gently patted your back, trying to help with the digestion.

It took a few moments, but the coughing eventually subsided, and you were left with the bitter taste of alcohol on your tongue, making your face curl in disgust. Your tsked, trying to get the taste off your tongue.

"Take another sip!“ Charlotte encouraged, a wide smile plastering her face. Like she liked to see you suffer.

You shook your head, but before you could verbally respond, Amelia perked up. "Just one more, okay? It’ll get better over time.“

You wanted to say no, to get up and go home, but you felt tempted. Maybe they were right, maybe it would get better. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes before you took another swing.

Then they encouraged you again. And you drank again. Then again. And again, and again, and again until the cup was empty, and they were already fetching you another cup. But without the juice. And you drank it.

As time passed and your friends chatted around you, you felt your vision started to become blurry and bouncy. Everything you were looking at suddenly had a shade of blur, and it looked like waves were going through your vision. You tried to blink multiple times to fix it, but it didn’t.

Your head was starting to feel heavy, and you felt like you were out of your own body. Like you were a piece of jello on the couch, melting into the cushions and becoming one. You didn’t like that feeling. You didn’t like it at all. It felt like you were out of your own body, and you were in third person. It felt so weird and unnatural. You hated it.

You slowly stood up from the couch, and your legs almost buckled under you. Your friends curiously looked at you, asking where you were going. You apologies for the early dismissal, and gave them all weak, half-assed smiles. You tried to walk, but you were stumbling over your own feet. But eventually, you got to the front door, and you stumbled out onto the porch, sitting down on the concrete.

You rubbed your temples, as if you were turning the gears in your brain to start working correctly again. You took a deep breath of the fresh air, letting it fill your lungs. It was the one natural thing you had in your grasp right now.

You didn’t want to stay here any longer. The smell of the alcohol you drank reeked off of your clothes, and your hair was a little messed up. You knew you couldn’t drive in your condition. Your vision was impaired and you could barely walk without tripping over your own feet. It was too late to be walking alone, even in this nice neighborhood.

So, you called Billie. You had to squint to look at your phone, making sure it was really her before clicking the 'call' button. You pressed speaker, feeling too weak to hold your phone to your ear. You put your phone on your legs, hanging your head as you heard the phone ringing.

Billie was quick to pick up, answering the phone on the second ring. She spoke with a sweet, loving voice, the adorable little tone she always had when she spoke rang through the air, practically healing your ears. "Hii, baby. How’s the party? You havin‘ fun?“

You let out a small groan, which somehow mixed with a giggle. You moved some hair out of your face as you spoke, your words completely slurred, and barely understood through the phone. "Heyyy, bils… it’s goin‘… amazing, here. Buttt I don’t feel too good. Everything’s all spinny an‘ blurry an‘ I feel like jelly… can you come f‘me?“

With your slurred words and how you described your symptoms, a worry built up in her chest. Were you safe? How much had you drank? She pushed her worries away, knowing she needed to be strong for you. She spoke again, her voice softer, sweeter, just to not worry you. "Of course, my love. I’m on my way right now. I’ll be there soon. I love you.“

"Love you too!“ you said with a small giggle. Apparently, your drunken self got really flustered when Billie showed affection. The blush on your face that Billie couldn’t yet see had spread all over your face, even to your ears. You hung up the phone giggling, almost kicking your feet. Almost.

When Billie arrived, she didn’t even bother to turn off the car. The bright headlights of the dodge challenger were pointed right your way, making your eyes squint and blink a few times.

Billie instantly hopped out of the car, and quickly jogged towards you. There was a hint of worry on her expression, but she hid it rather well. She kneeled down in front of you, gently taking your face into her hands. She scanned over your face and your body, checking for any injuries. She let out a sigh of relief as she found none, her shoulders slumping.

"Hey, love. How you feeling? Still all dizzy and blurry?“ she said softly, gently rubbing her thumbs over the soft skin of your cheeks. Her eyes held a delicateness to them, looking at you as if you would break under the slightest pressure.

You nodded, a giddy smile forming in your face as her hands touched your cheeks. Her palms were warm, a stark contrast to your cold cheeks. You didn’t wear a jacket, not thinking you would��ve been waiting outside, at night for 10 minutes. But you didn’t care now. You were with Billie, and that’s all your mind could focus on now.

Billie smiled softly, before gently helping you onto your feet. You wabbled a bit, but she helped you find your balance as she led you to the car. She gently placed you in the passenger seat, closing the door once you were buckled in and comfortable. She quickly rounded the car, getting into the drivers seat and backing out of the driveway.

The carride was mostly silent, except for your little babbles that you would spurt out, shifting every other minute. Billie’s hand stayed on your thigh, gently rubbing and squeezing the milky skin beneath her palm.

Billie could tell you were more of the sleepy drunk, seeing you barely awake in the passenger seat. But there was something keeping you awake. You didn’t know what, big it was something.

The car came to a stop as Billie pulled into the driveway of your shared house, and she killed the engine before rushing back over to your side. She opened the door for you, unbuckling you and letting you lean on her as you began to walk inside. You let out a small giggle, feeling Billie’s warmth against yours. She was always so warm. You never could understand how.

Billie helped you up the stairs and into the bedroom, gently sitting you down on the bed. "Stay here for a second, okay? I’ll be right back.“

Billie quickly jogged out the room and back down the stairs, entering the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water. She then went back upstairs and into the bedroom, opening the bottle of water as she approached you yet again.

"Drink it, love. It will help with the hangover tomorrow.“ Billid said softly, letting you take the water and drink it. It helped clear your mind a bit, and it was a soothing balm to the bitter taste that lingered in your throat.

You placed the waterbottle down on the bedside table, rubbing your eye. Billie quickly took notice, and gently began to take off all your jewelry, putting it in its designated spot in your jewelry box. She then began to change your clothes for you, placing you out of your shiny dress and into a pair of comfy shorts and one of Billie’s hoodies. It was always more comfortable to sleep in Billie’s hoodies.

You melted into the comfortable clothes, quickly warming up. You layed down on the bed, curling under the duvet. Billie quickly followed, gently pulling you into her chest, letting you listen to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. You felt your cheeks heating up again, a giddy giggle leaving your lips again.

Billie couldn’t help but laugh at your giddiness, seeing how flustered you could get just by simple acts and touches. She gently stroked your hair with her fingers, weaving through the soft locks. She gently leaned down and placed a soft, gentle kiss on your lips, whispering quietly to you. "My little angel.“

Your cheeks heated up even more at the petname and the kiss, which you leaned into. But when she pulled away, you instantly puckered up your lips, as if asking for another one.

Billie chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes. She never minded when you asked for kisses. It was her favorite thing anyways. She gently placed another kiss to your lips again, and you leaned into it, feeling at ease.

Once she pulled away again, you felt your eyes drooping, the tiredness taking over your body. Billie continued to gently comb through your hair, trying to help you fall asleep. She smiled at your sleepy face, just on the verge of passing out.

But then, you lips puckered up again weakly, asking for yet another kiss. Billie rolled her eyes with a sigh, speaking with faux annoyance. "You can’t get enough of my kisses while your drunk, can you?“ But it wasn’t a complaint. She leaned into a kiss once more, capturing your lips into the third kiss. Her soft lips brought your into your slumber, your lips falling limp as Billie gently pulled away.

She pulled your sleeping form into her chest, rubbing your back with her hand. She rested her chin on the top of your head, speaking quietly and softly to your sleeping, drunk form.

"Goodnight, my angel.“ ⋆. 𐙚 ̊

a/n: guys I just realized I accidentally forgot three ENTIREE paragraphs so if you re-read this and it looks different that’s why 😓 I’m sorry

[cute-firelight]

For me the truth is in the middle:

Arcane Vi it’s different than league Vi, at least how she originally was.

Buuuuut… both Arcane Vi and League Vi became enforcers. It was just for complete different reasons and motivations and both motivations are explained in their respective media.

I understand that now LOL wants to combine League’s lore with Arcane and have only one. However, now that Arcane introduced alternative universes, we could say that one version of Enforcer Vi is in one universe and the other in the Arcane one.

Now, in the after Arcane, I don’t know if Vi will keep being an enforcer, but she will clearly be at Cait’s side no matter what they are going to become. Cait will never make Vi do things she doesn’t agree with.

Vi found a home with Cait specifically. She didn’t found that in the Undercity or the topside. The Undercity changed too much and she didn’t felt like she belonged anymore.

Her new home it’s literally Cait, her new family.

I think the only mistake the show did was pulling a little bit under the rug Vi’s trauma in prison. People talk about Vi like she is this completely put person and like… Vi’s trauma in jail crushed any fighting rebellion spirit young Vi had. This is how power wins. They destroy people until they can’t fight anymore, they give up.

Also… the motivation of young Vi was to fight for her family’s future; for all of them to have a better life… now that most of them are dead, her only remaining motivation it’s to recover Powder. Her main motivation has always been her family, and protect her loved ones.

Both Jynx and Vi aren’t there to fight against oppression. They are being put into those roles by other people and their context. Both of them are barely trying to cling into anything to survive as how they are now.

Jynx is framed as a hero for shooting the council, when she did that in spite of Vi and because she did the last will of her father that she just killed (her motivations here are complex, however, she didn’t do that because she wanted to be a hero).

Vi is framed as a hero by the enforcers, when in reality she did that to rescue her sister and not because she wanted to take over Silco to fight against crime. She ends up becoming an enforcer due to guiltiness and because she felt she owe that to Cait.

Like, they are both put into these roles that don’t really fit them, but that they are amazing at, and that’s just a fantastic story to me.

Really, I am waiting the day where the storm calms up a little bit to make real Arcane analysis because there is interesting stuff that can be extracted from this.

I have the headcanon that in the future Vi and Cait will be like some sort of elite team. They will have independence for making different sort of decisions. This is why they are usually fighting against chem lords together and not with other enforcers. Vi also is shown not using the regular enforcer uniform in a lot of League’s animation and art. So I think she won’t be exactly an enforcer but she will work alongside Vi in other ways.

Arcane: a show base on the characters from League of Legends, including Piltover’s Finest Enforcers Vi and Caitlyn and has not hidden that fact ever, at all, not once.

Fandom when they see Vi is enforcer:

Arcane is following the canon game lore that exist for more than 10 years btw

[nessaagw]

Thunderbolts review! ⚡️🖤

(*SPOILERS AHEAD* if you haven’t watched the movie, don’t read. ‼️

I watched it on may 10th, this is the very lengthy review I left on letterboxd ✨)

I finally went back to the cinema!! 🥹

this movie was so so good, comforting and entertaining and hilarious, ugh I love anti-heroes so much 🫶🏻

ava (loved her since the first time I saw her) and bob (cuties patootie) representing chronical illness and depression respectively is so dear to me, as I suffer from both ❤️‍🩹

I’m so excited for this new era, although I wish that *SPOILER* they lets the names “Thunderbolts” instead of “New Avengers”, it feels so impersonal and emphasizes how marvel wants to revive the past, which is unfair and a bit plain in my opinion.

Also!! I loved how we finally got to see a group of heroes that feels like an actual family (found-family specifically) whereas the avengers felt more, to me at the very least, like work-friends (doesn’t mind I didn’t like them!). 🫂

I can’t wait to see more of their life in the tower (I would lowkey like, and desperately need, a serie about that, please I’ll finalnce it myself 🙏🏻💶).

I wish Bucky and Ava got a bit more space. 🙂‍↔️

John Walker, I officially owe you an apology, please forgive me. 💙

I know Alexei is not the best father or person ever, but I love how he keeps on trying and showing up (*ehm ehm* someone could use this as an example *ehm ehm* dad) 🥹

The post-credit scene?! Oh my goodness. They all looked amazing throughout the entire movie, but they just looked flawlessly hot and insanely good in it. 😮‍💨

Also, 4️⃣ 👀.

This movie was literally made for me, I’ll forever talk about it. 🥰😭

[tjerra14]

really wish I had more time for individual patients sometimes

[whentherewerebicycles]

also I KNOW that all my college and high school friends are not actually announcing pregnancies or births at a higher rate than usual I’m just more hypersensitive/attuned to this kind of news than usual but also sometimes I feel an uncontrollable rage in my heart towards these people who are 1) getting pregnant for free and 2) getting pregnant, period. I recognize this as an irrational and unfair emotional reaction! it’s not like these people can help being straight and/or having uncomplicated pregnancies! but also I can burn with suppressed rage and grief about it!!!

[myra-the-ishkia]

His chuckle eased her unnecessary worries. Okay, good, it wasn't secretly bothering him! Not like he'd be one to keep it secret, of course. But the reassurance was nice.

Myra then smiled softly, appreciative of the offer. “Of course. …And I will, thank you.” She very well may have to take him up on it, seeing as she probably couldn't reach all of the bits and pieces. 

Once he was away to bathe, she took to sitting on the edge of the bed. And with a soft, relieved sigh, she pulled a large wing to her front to begin the painstaking process...Though it wasn't for very long, with her only being able to pluck a few twigs and leaves free before she began to space out.

With her no longer running, no longer panicked- for tonight anyway- and terrified, sitting in a safe place, she found the fatigue quickly catching up with her body once again twice as hard. The toll she paid in magla reminded her of its presence with each bone that grew heavier. A yawn escaping from her lungs.

But she needed to stay awake..! If anything were to happen to him, she needed to be conscious..! But, try as she might, her mind began to drift, recounting the day.

She can still hardly believe that the Paripus was alive, let alone that she was the one who pulled it off. Everything that happened in the span of a few hours…Felt like a blur of minutes. The impact, her shouting, her anger and panic boiling over into tears, Gideaux and the guards…Her scooping Fidelio up and running without even a word to the others. Trees and bushes flying past in smears of green as she uttered words of reassurance to someone who couldn't hear them. 

To her kneeling in the dirt begging, pleading to the night air to give her the strength to bring him back. Evidently someone must’ve answered, clearly, given the result. Whoever or whatever granted her wish, she owed them for life.

Reigning her mind back to the current moment, she blinked her eyes open halfway in a slow manner as he returned, her chin having found a perch on her palm sometime prior. Her elbow having accidentally pinned her wing to her lap in the process. Shoot, did she doze off? Idiot. Ah well, at least he seemed to be alright.

She wanted to speak, give anything along the lines of a ‘Welcome back.’ Or a ‘Feel better?’ But the most she could muster was a soft hum.

Myra nodded in agreement to the compromise fairly easily. As long as he laid in bed, she didn’t care where she’d be. Though at the mention of them sharing before, she sort of froze, watching him get up from the chair. Her gaze then averted in faint embarrassment. “A-Ah, that’s fair…Sorry.” She said, rubbing the back of her neck. Though she didn’t know exactly why she was apologizing. Maybe it was for the initial un-negotiated bunking, or the fact it was a repeated 'offense.'

Go figure he’d know. It’s kind of hard to ignore the spontaneous Ishkia in your bed. But could anyone blame her? Come nightmares or lonely nights, nothing ever beat lying down next to the two warmest, comforting forces on the Charadrius. Even then, she always took to laying above their blankets knowing full well that trying not to disturb them would be hard if she went under cover.

Though she was surprised it took this long for him to bring it up. She knew Bas was aware of it, since he had checked in on her the morning after she first snuck in, being the big sweetheart he is. Someone had to ask, since it wasn’t exactly common for there to be sudden women in your quarters.

Her eyes drifted back to him, then followed as he went past her. Mainly just to make sure he could actually reach the bathroom.

At his question, she gave a light chuckle and a shake of her head. She hadn’t even thought about a bath until he brought it up. She didn’t even have a change of clothes. “No no, you go ahead. I…Have to get this junk out of my wings first, anyway. I know it won’t wash out.” Almost like trying to emphasize her point, she grabbed one of her wings and gave it a light shake, with nary a hint of delicacy- which thankfully shook a few leaves out! Though it was far from enough.

[ilikeevilblondes]

Breaststroke

18+ MDNI!

Summary: Joel, single dad extraordinaire, is struggling to teach his daughter how to swim. You end up teaching Sarah over the course of a few weekly swimming classes. One fortunate day, Joel accidentally stumbles upon a rather intimate situation involving you in the shower rooms after hours. He’s about to leave, but right before he can, he hears his own name spilling out in a desperate moan from your lips.

TL;DR: It’s more fun to stay in the YMCA (shower rooms) (because that’s where Joel fucks you.)

W.C: ~7.7k

Warnings: Singledad!Joel x swimmingteacher!reader, softdom!joel, accidental voyeurism, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, praise, fingering, unprotected p-in-v, shower sex, pull out and pray, implied age gap, Joel’s got that daddy humour (no outbreak!)

Note: waiter! waiter! some plot with my porn, please! sorry, you freaks, mama had to stretch the narrative before the rawdogging. and sorry for the late upload, the flu was not gucci. hope y'all enjoy as always, though! and if you got any reqs, feel free to send them my way 🤓

@pedrospurplerain

According to HealthyChildren.org, most children in America begin to learn how to swim by their fourth birthday. Basic abilities like floating and treading water can be ingrained in their motor skills at that point, and by the ripe age of five or six, most children will have been able to freestyle across any urine-defiled public pool.

Joel sighed as he watched his five-year-old angel scream and hiss at the local YMCA pool, refusing even to dip a toe into the chlorinated abyss.

“Sarah, pumpkin, you’re not a cat.” He sighed, pinching his curved nose bridge.

Sarah merely shot him a dirty look, the dirtiest a toddler could muster. She crossed her arms over her chest, the bright orange inflatable armbands around her upper arms squeaking as she did so.

“I don’t wanna go in there, daddy.” Sarah humphed.

Joel shook his head, looking up at her from where he sat in the shallow area of the gym’s pool. His little treasure, bless her heart, was stubbornly standing over the ledge and peering down at him with both fear and unwavering defiance.

“Y’gotta, pumpkin.” Joel ran a hand through his wet hair.

Of all the dads in the world, Joel would not say he was among the worst percentile. He certainly tried his best to do anything and provide everything for his little girl; working as many shifts as he could to pay for her school (his kid somehow, thankfully, didn’t get his brains and was starting first grade ahead of schedule), moving into a ‘nicer’ neighbourhood, and spoiling her with all the stuffed toys and lego sets her little heart desired.

Being a single dad wasn’t easy, to put it simply. Joel would’ve thought, owing to karmic nonsense, the universe could have been a bit nicer to him for the measly crime of forgetting to teach his daughter how to swim. But there he was, staring up at a child more hydrophobic than a rabies survivor.

“Can we go home, Daddy? Please?” Sarah stomped her little foot down onto the tiled floor.

“We will, sugar, I promise. Just, not until you at least try to step down here.”

Sarah shook her head wildly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” She said, more decisively.

“Says who?” Joel raised a dark brow.

“Me.”

“Remind me again, pumpkin, are you the adult or the child in this relationship?”

“You’re the one in the kiddie side of the pool, Daddy.” Sarah giggled, revealing a toothy grin.

Joel sighed through a smile. God, this kid was too smart for him. She was gonna be the death of him.

Mumbling something to the effect of ‘smartass’ under his breath, Joel treaded to the end and hoisted himself up, towering over his three-foot-nothing daughter and dripping chlorine-infected water down onto the ground.

“You wanna switch places?” He crossed his arms over his broad, bare chest, nodding his head toward the pool.

“Nope!” Sarah smiled.

Joel was about to give up for the day and take his troublemaker home only to return the next weekend, when he suddenly felt a tentative finger tap his shoulder.

He whipped around to see a girl, much younger than him—and much shorter, too, dressed in the standard red lifeguard one-piece uniform. 

“Sorry to intrude,” You began, biting your lip. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Joel blinked, not realising he had to reply to your remark like a normal fucking human would. Instead, he opted for the less popular, uncivilised caveman method of furrowing his brows and blinking madly.

He was too distracted by the way your swimsuit clung tightly over your body. Too mesmerised by the droplets of water sliding in slow motion down your curves. Not to mention that disarmingly pretty smile of yours. 

God, he’d been too single for too long.

“Hello!” The reason for his singleness beamed up at you and waddled closer. “I’m Sarah.”

Your smile stretched wider as you bent down to meet her eye level and introduce yourself in return. Sarah repeated your name back to you delightedly, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

After making a comment about how ‘cool’ her floaters were, you straightened up and met Joel’s coffee-brown gaze.

“Anyway.” You absentmindedly tucked a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear. “Um, well, I overheard your situation. And, uh, just wanted to let you know that the gym hosts free introductory swimming lessons every Saturday afternoon. I teach the classes, actually, and you and your daughter are more than welcome to come, mister…?”

By some miracle, Joel was able to move his mouth and properly communicate this time.

“Miller. Joel Miller.” He managed to say without so much as a stutter, smiling politely at you and sticking out a hand.

You took his hand in yours and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Miller-Joel-Miller. That Italian?” Your laugh was a sweet sound and, at risk of being completely predictable, music to his ears.

“The only Italian in me, sweetheart, is from the canned ravioli we had for lunch today.” Joel chuckled. “And we’d be more than happy to come, wouldn’t we, Sarah?” 

To punctuate his claim, he flashed Sarah a look.

A frown cut into her soft features, but she relented. 

“Yes, we would.” Sarah sighed dejectedly.

“Great! Um. Here’s the flier.” You produced a colourful leaflet and held it out to Joel. He took it. “It has the times and details and, uh, that’s my phone number on the bottom, there.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Joel pocketed it. “We’ll be there.”

“I look forward to seeing you two then.” You smiled again.

Joel would’ve fallen to his knees if you had stayed longer with that damn smile of yours. But you turned around to speedwalk towards the other side of the pool, blowing your whistle and reprimanding a bunch of teenagers running across the slippery poolside.

And if he thought the front of you was stunning, he was quickly shown that your back view was just as providing.

“You’re staring,” Sarah observed, tugging at his arm.

Joel cleared his throat.

“Let’s go home, pumpkin.” He ruffled her hair, much to a fit of giggles, and led his daughter away from the outdoor pool.

—-------

Saturday afternoon did not come quickly enough. 

After a week of late nights spent finishing drywall and early mornings making Sarah’s lunch—because there was no way in hell she was going to eat whatever junk-filled shit the American school system provided in cafeterias—Joel was tired, to say the least.

By three o’clock sharp, he had arrived at the pool with his daughter dressed to the nines in a robot-themed swimsuit and bright green goggles that suctioned so hard into her little face that she looked wide-eyed and cartoonish.

And when four o’clock had rolled around, Joel was happy to report that his daughter had finally worked up the nerve to get in the pool. With your help (and some floppy-haired assistant coach), Sarah had also managed to do some basic swimming manoeuvres without clinging to the side for dear life and frothing at the mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Joel approached you after the session had officially ended, and Sarah was dried off and warm. “Just wanted to thank you. And, uh, Coach Bryan for, you know…”

“No thanks necessary, Mr Miller.” You winked, then bent down to Sarah, who stood beside her father. “You did great, Sarah. Really.”

Sarah smiled sheepishly. Joel chuckled at her bashful demeanour and ruffled her hair affectionately.

“Same time next week, Coach?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” You saluted him and walked off toward the shower rooms, a towel around your shoulders and a spring to your step.

Joel shook his head, smiling, and took Sarah home in a better mood than he had been that morning.

—-

Joel quickly learned that the swimming lessons were beneficial to both him and his daughter. Sarah was speedily conquering her fear of water, and Joel was… well, Joel spent a lot of time talking to you when you weren’t in the pool. And afterwards, too, when the rest of the kids had already left and there were no other parents to chat your ear off.

“You’re taking a gap year?” Joel mused after one particularly smooth sailing session, taking off his sunglasses and hanging them on the hem of his shirt.

“Yep. Just taking a break after college so I can figure out what I wanna do in life.” You shrugged. “Is being a contractor any fun?”

“Well, sweetheart, I doubt you’d like it very much.” Joel smiled, glueing his eyes to yours with steely resolve. 

He was not going to look down at your body this time. He was not going to ogle the tight fit of your one-piece. He was better than the average man.

Besides, you were definitely too young for him. Possibly even young enough to be his daughter. You’d likely recoil in disgust and horror and, possibly, contact the local authorities to capture him, the creepy older man, if he were to ever make a move.

“Eh. I was open to the idea.” You laughed, shaking your head. “But I guess it’s dominated by big, strong hunks like you, huh?”

“I mean, I—” Joel began, but cut himself off upon realising what you had just said.

He blinked. Did you just flirt with him?

As if sensing that Joel was getting somewhere other than friendly banter with her swimming teacher, Sarah jogged up to the two of you.

“Daddy, I’m hungry. Let’s go home!” She pulled at his wrist.

Joel cleared his throat, offered you a quick goodbye, and led his daughter outside back to their car.

—-

“I promise it’s funny.” Bryan nudged your shoulder, giving you a very indiscreet once-over.

Joel was shamelessly eavesdropping on your post-lesson conversation as he towelled Sarah’s unruly hair nearby. Not to be nosy, of course, just to find out whether he was your boyfriend or not. Out of pure curiosity, really. No ulterior motive whatsoever…

“I somehow doubt that.” You hummed, no amusement evident in your unimpressed tone.

“Okay, so, there’s this ginger, a brunette, and a blonde—”

“I’ll stop you right there, Bryan, is the punchline, by any chance, ‘breaststroke’?”

“Well, shit.” Bryan sighed.

Joel chuckled to himself, giving Sarah one last tousle with the towel before settling it over her shoulders. 

He concluded you either hated your boyfriend, or he wasn’t your boyfriend at all. 

Joel preferred the second option.

—-

“I’m just getting some water. You okay with the kids?” You pulled yourself out of the pool, glancing at Bryan.

“Yep. All good here,” He called back.

With a nod, you draped your towel over your shoulders and made your way towards the deck chair that held your things.

It seemed that the heavens were smiling on you that day, too, because none other than Mr Miller himself occupied the chair beside yours.

And what a sight he was.

Sun-bathing, his sunglasses resting over closed eyes, and his broad, bare, tanned chest exposed to all. 

“Having fun there, Mr Miller?” You smiled, taking a seat on your chair, bringing your water bottle to your lips.

Joel lowered his sunglasses and very discreetly let his gaze travel down your body. 

You bit back a grin. He always thought he was so subtle.

“Absolutely, coach. Need to set a timer, though, or I’ll end up medium well-done.” Joel sat up, facing you.

You snorted at his dad-humour.

“Tan looks great.” You commented, wiping your brow with your towel.

“You think?” Joel smiled, reaching for the can of soda on his side table and taking a sip. “Thank you very much, sweetheart.”

“No problem at all, Mr Miller.” You licked your lips, your gaze momentarily caught on his … form-fitting trunks. “Well, I better get back to it.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” He pushed his sunglasses back up his aquiline nose.

“My—oh! Oh. Bryan? No. Ew,” You held back a gag. “No. No. God, no.”

Joel chuckled.

“I think you may need one more ‘no’ to prove your point there, darlin’.”

“No.” You played along. “Him and I are strictly friends. Besides, he isn’t my type.”

“He isn’t?” 

“I like my men like I like my cheese.” You shrugged, standing up.

“Don’t say smelly.” Joel laughed.

You opened your mouth but decided to leave your preferences shrouded in mystery as you began walking off.

Well, until you threw him a look over your shoulder, catching him in the act of staring at your ass, but pretending not to notice.

“Aged.”

Joel choked on nothing while you innocently walked away like you hadn’t just made a heavily suggestive remark.

—-

“Daddy? Can I go talk to Amanda for a second?” Sarah asked, her gaze flickering over to a plait-wearing blonde girl nearby.

“Yeah, okay, sugar. Be quick, though. Tommy’s coming over soon.” Joel squeezed her shoulder before letting her run off, her wet flip-flops squeaking against the tiled poolside as she approached her friend.

Joel shook his head and smiled. He was so proud of his girl for overcoming her phobia. Maybe he needed to treat her to ice-cream one of these days–

“Hi, Mr Miller.”

After craning his head, Joel found you standing behind him. Bright-eyed and wearing that same, impossibly tight, lifeguard swimsuit. Thank God for nylon.

“Hey, coach.” Joel offered you a lopsided grin. 

“I just wanted to say, I’ve been really impressed with your daughter over these past few weeks.”

“She’s a fast learner.” Joel moved beside you, still facing Sarah and her little friend but keeping his eyes trained on you. “Unlike me.”

“Does she get it from your wife, then…?”

Joel couldn’t shake his head faster. “No wife.”

And there went his eyes, dragging down your slightly wet body. Christ, it was like you jumped straight out of a Baywatch episode—keep it together, Miller!

“Oh.” You coughed. “So that’s why all the moms flock around you.”

Joel let out a short laugh. “I think you’re exaggerating, sweetheart.”

You took a quick glimpse at the hoard of middle-aged women unabashedly staring at the wide-shouldered man next to you before returning your sights to the wide-shouldered man himself.

“I don’t think I am.” Your lips pulled upward in a small smile. “Well, anyway. Just wanted to catch you before our final lesson next week.”

“Our final lesson’s next week?” Joel sputtered out, sounding way less calm and collected than he had intended.

“Yeah. Unless you want to learn how to swim, too.”

“I think I’m all covered in that department, darlin’.” Joel smiled. “But thank you. For everything. I know this whole shindig is free, but I just wish there was some way I could repay you.”

You clicked your tongue and, if Joel caught that correctly, lowered your voice.

“I’m sure we can find some way for you to pay me back, Mr Miller.” You said innocently, but your half-lidded eyes told another story.

Before he could so much as utter out the first syllable of a reply, Sarah came darting back.

“Okay, Daddy, let’s go!” She took her father by the hand and spared you a glance. “Bye, coach!”

Joel tried to hide both his shock from your very obvious innuendo as well as his disappointment from his daughter’s very poor timing.

He rubbed a hand down the lower half of his face and nodded at his daughter. “Let’s go then, pumpkin.” He gripped her hand and turned to you with a slightly dazed smile. “I’ll see you next week, sweetheart.”

“That you will, Mr Miller.” With a quick wink, you spun around on your heel and made your way toward the shower rooms.

—-

As fate would have it, barely half an hour later, Joel found himself sighing unhappily and looking down at his daughter as he attempted to contain his frustrations.

“We just got home—what do you mean, you left your goggles at the pool?” Joel said through a deep exhale.

“Sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to forget them.” Sarah shuffled her feet, her eyes locked on the floor in front of her and her fingers twisting the bottom of her t-shirt.

Tommy stuck his head out from the kitchen, one hand clutching a can of Bud Light and the other braced on the doorframe.

“Yeah, Joel, she didn’t mean to.” He piped in, unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, shooting him a quick glare.

His brother just smirked and took a sip of his beer.

Joel sighed and turned back to Sarah, pinching his nose bridge. “Look, pumpkin, it’s fine. I’ll just drive back to the pool and get ‘em for you, okay?”

Sarah frowned. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”

“Yeah, Joel, you better be. You’re the one making it.” Tommy let out a dramatic huff.

Joel ignored him.

“Won’t take but a hot minute.” Joel ruffled Sarah’s unruly curls and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head before turning away toward the front door.

“Say ‘hi’ to sweetheart for me, if you see her!” Sarah smiled up at him.

Joel paused mid-step, his shoes halfway on.

“Hi to who, now?” Tommy leaned closer.

“That ain’t her name, pumpkin.” Joel chose not to look directly at Tommy as he huffed out another sigh and yanked his shoes fully on.

“Ain’t that what you call her, though?”

“Now, who are you callin’ ‘sweetheart’, Joel Miller?” Tommy wore a shit-eating grin on his face.

Joel decidedly ignored him, believing it to be the best course of action.

“Watch my kid, Tommy!” He called as he stepped out of the house.

—--

The pool area was mostly deserted by the time Joel returned to it, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the lengthy stretch of lane-roped waters.

Joel walked a slow lap around the perimeter of the pool, scanning the tiles and lounge chairs and the lone lifeguard tower for any sign of Sarah’s goggles.

Nothing.

Turning around, Joel’s eyes landed on the entrance to the womens’ locker rooms. He huffed out a heavy sigh, running his hand through his grey-flecked hair. He would have preferred to not snoop in there in fear of startling any lingering guests, but he decided that there wouldn’t be anyone this close to closing time on a Sunday and, moreover, didn’t want to come home empty-handed and disappoint his daughter.

So, on he went.

The locker rooms were quiet when he tentatively stepped inside, the scent of chlorine and cheap soap clinging to the air. 

Fortunately, it seemed that he was the only one in its vicinity.

And, even more fortunately, Joel immediately spotted Sarah’s bright green goggles lying by its lonesome on a bench near the showers.

Gotcha.

He was ready to make a beeline for them and head quickly home, but upon taking a few steps forward, Joel’s ears caught the distant sound of a shower running.

Turning his head toward the source of the splashing sounds, Joel’s eyes immediately noticed a swimsuit hanging precariously off the shower curtain rod.

But not just any swimsuit. It was a red one-piece with what appeared to be ‘lifeguard’ in bold, along the front.

It was your swimsuit. 

You were in the shower.

Joel pursed his lips. Just his fucking luck. Of course, the inappropriately young girl he tried not fantasising about for weeks was the only other person there.

Mentally chastising himself for even entering the locker rooms in the first place, Joel pivoted sharply and began making his way toward the exit.

He didn’t get very far, though, because, after two intentionally light steps, he heard his own name drifting from the steaming shower.

“Joel…”

He stiffened. Evidently, he was caught. He’d have to apologise profusely and somehow testify that he was not, in fact, a perverted Peeping Tom—

“Joel,” You sighed, followed by … shit, was that a moan?

And at that moment, Joel realised that, alongside the splashing of water echoing from the stall, there was the unmistakable clap and squelch of—

“Joel! Oh… fuck,” Your breathy moan carried easily down the short hall.

You were fucking yourself to the thought of him.

Shit, shit, shit.

If Joel were a better man, he would already be in his car, driving home. He would have forgotten this encounter had ever occurred, tucked it deep into the depths of his mind, granted you a curt farewell for the final lesson the coming week, and proceeded to never see you again.

But Joel wasn’t a better man.

Judging by how quickly his dick came to life to rest, half-hard, against his thigh in his swim trunks, Joel was an awful person.

Well, he couldn’t come home nursing a semi, now could he?

Yeah. Reaching down to pull his throbbing cock out of his waistband was the right thing to do.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he leaned against a corner and slowly slid his fist down his stiffening length.

“Joel! Fuck, your cock feels so good!” Your pitchy whine floated down the room, amplified by the generosity of the tile acoustics.

Joel’s dick twitched in his hand. 

Out of habit, he tightened his grip around his base and fucked up into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut and pretending it was your tight cunt he was jutting in and out of.

And it wasn’t hard to pretend, either. What with the sinful noises you were making a few stalls away, and the desperate pleas of ‘that’s it, Joel, fuck me harder!’

With pearls of precum dribbling down his tip and smearing along his hand with each thrust, Joel felt himself near his release. Judging by the increasingly airy quality of your whines, you were facing the same predicament.

Joel continued to fuck his fist, picturing you in various filthy scenarios. 

You, slowly wrapping your dainty hand around his hard-on and eagerly taking over.

You, on your knees, choking on his cock. 

You, tits smushed against tile as Joel fucked you with reckless abandon under the hot torrents of the showerhead.

Ramming brutally into your greedy fucking pussy, watching as his come-soaked dick disappeared in and out of your tight channel—

“Fuck!” Joel cursed aloud after a particularly enthusiastic thrust.

Suddenly, the water stopped. So did your noises.

Joel stilled. Oh, shit.

“Hello?” Came your voice, meekly. “Is … Is someone there?”

As silently as he could, Joel released his hold on his cock and carefully tucked himself back in his trunks.

Shit. What was he going to do?

Almost immediately after he regained his decency, the shower curtain slid halfway open with a faint metallic rattle, and you cautiously peered out, hiding most of your body behind the vinyl barrier.

“...Mr Miller?” You said, uncertainly, as if half-convinced he was some kind of dreamlike apparition.

Joel cleared his throat and took an instinctive step back.

“Uh—yeah. Just, uh… goggles. Sarah’s goggles.” He stuttered, holding them up weakly. “Her goggles. She left them here. The goggles.”

“Well, thank god you clarified that.” You smacked your lips, a sarcastic bite to your tone. The snarkiness soon faded from your expression once you added, with knitted brows, “you’re in the womens’ showers.”

“Yeah, I—” Joel winced. “I know.”

Silence.

After a moment or two, you opened your mouth to say something else, but the words died in your throat as your eyes fell on Joel’s trunks.

More specifically, the raging bulge making itself known in his lap.

“You’re hard.” You stated, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.

Joel’s eyes shot wide open. He glanced down, too, and sure enough, he was hard. It was almost as if he was fucking his hand to the thought of you only moments before. Oh, wait, that’s because he was!

To preserve the last shred of dignity in Joel’s inexecusably shameful body, he threw his hands over his groin and attempted to stammer out a valid excuse.

“Sorry, sweetheart—” No, he wasn’t. “—I, um… well, you see, I…”

Your eyes found the faint traces of precum on his right hand.

“Were you … jerking off to me in the shower?”

Yes, yes, he was.

“Frankly, darlin’, I think the better question here is, were you jerking off to me in the shower?” Joel coughed.

Your eyes trailed over his body, lingering again on where he covered his hard-on.

“I was.” Your stare found his. “Your turn, Mr Miller.”

Joel sucked in a breath through his teeth. There was definitely no backing out now.

He nodded slowly. Reprehensibly. 

Shame churned within him as he desperately wished for the ground to open up at his feet and swallow him whole, possibly even spitting him back out into the fiery pits of hell where he so clearly belonged after what he had done. Unfortunately for him, the earth, indifferent to his suffering, remained stubbornly solid beneath him, leaving him stranded in his own mortification.

“Look, sweetheart, I can’t express how sorry I—lord almighty.”

Instead of letting him scramble to finish whatever bullshit he was cooking up, you decided to pull the shower curtain all the way back.

Joel gulped, taking in your newly-exposed bare body, from the soft curve of your breasts to the thickness of your thighs to the seam of your … fuck, to the seam of the same pussy you were probably fingering just moments before; glazed in glistening beads of water under the cool fluorescent lights. 

You were fucking gorgeous. 

So gorgeous, in fact, that Joel felt his cock fully spring to life at the sight of you, standing naked and dripping-wet from the rain of showerhead.

“Let me… let me help you out.” You bit your lower lip, your eyes hazy.

“H-Help me out?” Joel breathed, staggering backward, his hands still persevering to conserve his modesty.

You slowly approached him, stopping when any semblance of personal space was lost, and dropped down to your knees.

Jesus Fucking Christ. 

Joel heard himself swallow.

“Don’t you want this, Mr Miller?” You looked up at him, your eyes pleading and almost doll-like from that angle.

While waiting for his response, your hands softly wrapped themselves around his, guiding them away from his lap to meet his tenting swim trunks head-on.

Joel, meanwhile, was busy trying to convince himself this wet dream of a situation was really happening whilst simultaneously refraining from spending his load in his trunks, because the vision of you, bare and waiting patiently on your knees, looked downright sinful.

“Doesn’t matter if I do.” Joel shook his head slowly, not registering the fact that his grip on the goggles loosened to a point where they fell to the floor in a dull clatter. “This… this is wrong.”

“The way I see it,” You hummed, your hands finding gentle purchase on his hips. “I’m naked. And already wet. And you’re…”

Your eyes flickered down to his bulge and wet your lips. Upon seeing this, Joel’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Ain’t there some—some rule against, I don’t know, a coach fraternising with a parent in this way?” Joel furrowed his brows, distractedly taking your chin in his hands and tilting your head upwards.

“No.” You eagerly let him direct you, moving at his will. 

“You sure?” 

“Positive.” The corners of your mouth pulled up in a small smile.

“What if someone comes—yeah, fuck it, I ain’t gonna keep pretending like I don’t want this.” Joel shook his head, his eyes dragging over you unabashedly.

“Oh yeah?” Your smile only widened.

“Go on then, darlin’.” Joel purred, his voice a low and rough timbre, his eyes overtaken with want. “What was it you said a while ago…? Help me out.”

With his less-than-reluctant approval, you tossed him another heart-stuttering wink, slipped your fingers past his waistband, and pulled him out.

And, fuck, you were not disappointed.

Joel was big, to say the least; in both length and girth, and you may have felt your cunt quivering at the mere thought of the possibility of taking him inside you later, but you were quickly overtaken by need upon seeing the drops of precum spilling from of his head.

With a hand wrapped around his base, you stuck your tongue out to lick a stripe up his length, tasting the salt of his skin and his arousal.

At your actions, Joel inhaled a sharp breath.

“You gonna finish what you started now?” Joel mused from above you, closing a fist around your grip on his cock and bringing it closer to your parted lips. He gently tapped your cheek with his free hand. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”

And you gladly did so, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his head like a fucking lolipop.

“Fuck,” Joel gritted his teeth, tossing his head back against the wall.

Taking his expletive as a sign to continue, you proceeded to hollow your cheeks and take his length deeper, as deep as physically possible without making you choke. 

“That all you can take?” Joel tutted, caressing your cheek.

Much to your determined efforts, you only managed to fit a little more than half of him in your mouth. Because, fuck, was he big.

You whined around his cock in response.

“Shh,” Joel murmured. “‘S okay. ‘S okay, sweetheart.”

His deep brown gaze met yours, and for a second, you could have mistaken the emotion swimming in his eyes as affection. 

“Nice and slow, hm?” Joel said through a satisfied exhale, his brows furrowed at the sensation of being enveloped by the warmth of your mouth. 

His fingers threaded through your hair, coming to grasp at your roots, but remained stationary, waiting for you to make the first move.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes and held that eye contact as you began moving your head back and forth. Seeing his eyes briefly flutter in pleasure, you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling it twitch as you continued your movements.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it.” His grip in your hair tightened.

You started to bob your head up and down at a quicker pace as you sucked him greedily, your hand moving in deft strokes along the stretch of his length your mouth couldn’t entertain.

Joel cursed under his breath and guided you on and off his cock in a steady rhythm as he fisted your hair.

And, fuck, he let himself thrust into your mouth once or twice, but upon hearing you gag, resolved to let you take charge of the speed entirely.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Joel breathed. “Sounded pretty chokin’ on my cock, but I guess I went too far, hm?” He sighed, caressing your cheek again.

You moaned with his cock heavy on your tongue, signalling your eagerness to die of asphyxiation from a fucking blowjob, and begun to take him even further into your mouth, feeling his head touch the back of your throat.

“Shit, darlin’.” Joel groaned. “That’s a good girl. Taking it so well.”

A strangled sound escaped from your otherwise occupied throat as you continued to deepthroat a man old enough to be your father.

Truly realising the situation you found yourself in, you felt a needy sensation thrum from in between your legs. Whilst continuing to bob your head around his cock, your hand went to trail down your front and relieve some of that tension you ached to be rid of, rubbing your clit furiously.

“Oh, my poor girl.” Joel cooed, seeing this. “Come on, now. Up you get,” He gently pulled you off his cock (wincing at the loss of your mouth) and up to stand in front of him.

“Not good?” You breathed, resting a hand on his chest while his hands settled on either side of your waist.

“No, sweetheart, it was very good.” Joel dipped his head down so his mouth was less than an inch away from yours, every word releasing as a warm breath against your lips. 

And then he leaned down to capture your mouth in a desperate, hungry, horribly sloppy kiss, licking into you and no doubt tasting his own arousal on your tongue.

You didn’t even register he was walking you backward until your back hit the shower wall.

“Just wanna fuck you now,” Joel mumbled, his half-lidded stare drifted down your bare form before flickering back up to meet your eyes.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You smirked, pulling him back into another frenzied kiss.

Joel smiled against your lips.

“So mouthy,” He tutted in that authoritative, paternal voice you’ve heard him use before, in between eager kisses. “I’d like to teach you a lesson, sweetheart, but I’m afraid I’m too fuckin’ impatient myself right now.”

At the sound of that, you clenched your thighs together.

The slant of his mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting at your wet skin, humming in pleasure as he did so. Simultaneously, his big, calloused hand made their way from your waist down to your lower abdomen, and lower, still, until you felt his fingers ghost over your slick entrance.

You gasped.

“Mr Miller–”

“‘Joel’, darlin’. It’s ‘Joel.’” He mumbled against your neck, his stubble scraping lightly against your skin. “Heard you moanin’ it in here a while ago, I’m fairly certain you know how to pronounce it.”

“Joel,” You obliged, biting your lower lip as you felt Joel’s fingers meander nearer to your core.

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“You don’t have to… you know,” You glanced down in between both your bodies.

Joel followed your gaze and saw his own fingers hovering close to your aching mound.

“Think I do.” He clicked his tongue. “Need to get ya ready. Wouldn’t wanna hurt that pretty pussy of yours when I… well, to put it bluntly, darlin’, I don’t wanna hurt your pretty pussy when I’m fuckin’ you in a little bit.”

“Oh,” You breathed.

“Yeah,” Joel hummed, nudging your cheek with his nose. “That sound good to you, sweetheart?”

You nodded almost too avidly.

“Good,” Joel sighed, his fingers skimming over your aching cunt and just barely dipping inside your folds. “Just relax, darlin’. I gotcha.”

That was the last of the preamble before you felt one of his fingers slip inside, dragging up and down against your walls.

Normally, if left to your own devices, you were barely satisfied with a singular digit of your own. But here you were, gasping and clenching around just his middle finger.

Content with your reaction, Joel kissed your neck and slipped another finger to crook alongside the first in an even rhythm that began to spark a familiar warmth in your gut.

“There we go.” He mumbled against your skin.

“Fuck,” You whispered as you felt his thumb settle on your clit.

You felt Joel smile against your pulse point. And then, with his other big hand, he gently held your face and titled it to the side to pepper kisses along your jaw.

“You can take another, can’t you? Yeah, you can.” Joel hummed, and before you could respond, you felt a third finger slip inside, stretching you wider. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as Joel’s fingers curled inside you at a faster rhythm while his thumb graciously swiped at your clit.

Blood pounded in your ears. Your breathing shallowed. You were so, so close.

“Joel, please…” 

“Please what? C’mon, baby, use your words like a big girl.”

His fingers only sped up, dragging against your walls so deliciously and filling you better than your own hand could have ever done.

You inhaled.

“Please don’t s-stop.” Your breath hitched in your throat. “I’m so close.”

“You wanna come for me? ‘S that it?” Joel cooed, his breath warm against your skin and right beside your ear.

“Please,”

“Come for me then, sweetheart. Let me hear you,”

With a scream of his name, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, sending you into a light-headed bliss as you clutched his big upper arms.

His fingers only began to slow once your cunt stopped pulsing rapidly around him, and when you caught your breath again, he tenderly slipped them out.

“Made a mess of my fingers, huh?” He mumbled, staring down at how his hand glistened with your arousal.

You felt your cheeks redden.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t fucking be,”

And you watched as Joel stuck a finger in his mouth and sucked your slick off it like it was a world-class dessert.

“That was hot,” Was your breathless response.

Intelligent.

“Oh yeah?” The corner of his lips tugged upward as his eyes danced from your own to your parted lips. 

“Yeah,”

A soft, low laugh rumbled in his throat.

“Come here,” Joel sighed, placing a hand on the small of your back and another on the side of your face, leaning down to devour your lips in another messy kiss.

His tongue slid inside your mouth as if starved, licking against your tongue and letting you taste your own pleasure. All while the hand on your face brought you closer and gently stroked the curve of your cheek.

After a few moments, Joel broke the kiss almost regretfully.

He barely pulled away, his lips closely within reach of yours, and his breath mingling with your own as he spoke in a deep, gruff rasp.

“You still want this, sweetheart?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Joel smirked. “A simple ‘yes’ would’ve sufficed.”

Before you could form a response to his slightly snarky remark, your breath was stolen from you at the sight of Joel tugging down his trunks fully and stepping out of them.

Glancing down, you found that he was still incredibly hard. Almost painfully, by the look of how his cock practically bounced up to his navel. Clearly, your recent oral assistance did nothing to tame the lust in his body.

Joel crowded you up against the wall once more, his tall frame easily looming over yours. One of his big hands went to caress your jawline, angling your head up toward him, and the other went to your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist.

“Been a while for me.” He sighed, a hint of embarrassment peeking through his tone. “You tell me if I get … carried away, yeah?”

Instinctively, you hung your arms around his wide shoulders, bringing him even closer.

“Yes, sir.” Your lips quirked upward.

“Good girl,” He hummed, his thumb absently running along your bottom lip.

Then, the hand cupping your face went to guide his aching dick to notch against your entrance, sliding against your wet mound.

And, with a shaky inhale slipping past his lips, he sheathed himself inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Joel muttered lowly.

You let out a whine at the feeling. 

Despite being barely halfway in, Joel was already proving to be more than sufficient, especially from the way your velvety walls were already pulsing wildly around his length.

“I know, I know, I know,” Joel sighed, his thumb caressing where he held a grip on your thigh. “‘S okay, sweetheart. Shh, you can take it.”

In response, you nodded.

And Joel drove himself the entire way, balls-deep, his greying pubic hair tickling the inside of your upper thighs. He gasped in your ear at the feeling of the first full thrust and at the sensation of your channel clamping desperately around him.

He filled you up so fucking well.

“You doin’ okay? Hm?” He mumbled, leaving lazy, aimless kisses along your neck.

“Need more.” 

“Oh? She wants more, huh?” He smirked against your skin. “That what you were imaginin’ in the shower?”

“Y-Yeah,” You whispered.

“Flirtin’ with me for weeks now, and here you are bein’ all shy.” Joel tsked. “Don’t worry, you’ll get more, darlin’.”

Joel began sawing in and out of you at a relaxed pace, letting out low groans of satisfaction. 

With every sloppy thrust, you heard the distant wet thud of your back against the shower tiles, sounding in a steady rhythm. But, despite each measured roll of his hips sending white-hot shivers throughout your throbbing cunt, you found yourself dangerously craving even more.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” Joel hummed coyly.

“Joel,” You whined.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” Joel mumbled against the corner of your mouth.

You only realised you were moaning obscenely loud when the echo had bounced around the room, and Joel was muttering something encouragingly into your skin.

“That’s it. Y’sound real fuckin’ pretty.”

Joel’s thrusts had picked up the pace. The only sound competing with the volume of your moans were the crude wet slaps of his body against yours.

Slap, slap, slap.

You thanked your lucky stars the shower rooms were deserted after the swimming lessons, because you were sure even if someone happened to walk in on you two fucking like wild rabbits, you wouldn’t let him stop.

And some part of you knew that he wouldn’t want to, either. Not with the way he was breathing airy curses beside your ear and mumbling about how ‘fuckin’ tight’ you were and other such filthy ramblings.

After a particularly harsh thrust, you felt his pace falter and his dick twitch against your walls.

“Fuck,” He whispered sharply.

Out of the blue, Joel pulled out, leaving your slick mound vacant for a heartbeat or two before he spun you around roughly, forcing you to brace yourself against the wall.

And, not long after, he fed you the entirety of his cock again in one deep thrust.

“Joel!” You gasped. 

Your hands, stretched out in front of you and anchored against the wall, scrambled to find a grip on the smooth, slippery surface.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He said from somewhere behind you, beginning to ram into you at a brutal pace as he held you in place with an iron grip on your hips. “Needed—fuck… Needed this.”

With your tits pressed against the tiles and his length kissing your cervix after every drag against your pulsing walls, your vision began to blur and your lower gut began to flutter. 

You were very fucking close.

As if reading your mind, one of Joel’s hands trailed from your hip to your front, sliding down until he brushed your clit. And then he began rubbing the sensitive nub in sloppy semi-circle motions, tutting sweet words as you whined nonsensical syllables.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you,” He cooed soothingly.

You let out a pitchy whine, “feels so good.” 

“That right?” Joel mumbled distractedly, using a rough hand on your neck to turn your head toward him despite the awkward angle, and claimed your lips hungrily, licking desperately into your mouth as if it was the last thing he’d ever do, and letting out hoarse noises of appreciation as he did so.

His hips continued to jut into you, setting an erratic, jerky pace.

Slap. Slap-slap. Slap. Slap-slap-slap.

You arched back against him and unintentionally broke the kiss when the overflowing pleasure spiked incredibly high.

“J-Joel,” You breathed.

The man, who was single-mindedly pistoning in and out of your splayed legs, hummed a sound of acknowledgment in response, his warm breath ghosting over your cheek.

“Joel, I’m close,” You whispered, the heat of both your bodies meeting where your back leaned against his front. 

“Are you?” He replied almost casually.

His fingers only sped in their motions, swiping at your clit almost feverishly as he continued to rut animalistically into you; each thrust stretching your aching cunt impossibly wide and oh so easily finding your cervix—

“Fuck!” Your chest tightened.

“Ask for it.” Joel’s gentle yet commanding tone nearly made your knees buckle. 

That, and the manic force at which he was fucking into you.

Slap–slap-slap-slap—

“Go on, baby. Ask.” His nose nudged at the side of your face, breathing in your scent as he tutted lowly, “hate to see you all worked up like this.”

“Shit—please! Can I come, please?” You acquiesced.

You felt the muscles of his rugged face pull up in a small smile against your cheek and his dick twitch inside your tight walls, sending shivers down your spine.

“Be a good girl and come for me then, sweetheart,” Joel said in between strained breaths. “Come all over my cock, I gotcha.”

Your climax came rippling over your whole body, a prolonged resonance that sent you into the territory of overstimulation—much more powerful than your first orgasm—as neither his fingers nor his cock slowed down in their frenzied pursuits. 

So, there you were, chanting his name like a prayer and clenching tightly around his relentless length.

When the fluttering of your cunt subsided, Joel hurriedly pulled out and wrapped a hand around his throbbing cock, fucking up into his fist frantically and cursing under his breath. You all but folded against the wall as you felt his loss, sticking your ass out and waiting for the inevitable.

Soon, his breath caught in his throat, and you felt hot ropes of his come spill over your back.

“Shit.” Joel sighed, gently rubbing along your sides. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder once he recollected himself a few moments after, still softly trailing his hands up and down as both of your breaths evened.

“You okay over there, sweetheart?”

You nodded weakly, unable to voice your satisfaction with your brains all fucked out.

Joel huffed a short laugh. “C’mon, I’ll clean you up.”

Somewhere behind you, the shower handle groaned with a faint squeak. A dull clunk followed, and then, with a sudden rush, water erupted from the showerhead, dousing the two of you in a sputtering cascade.

Gently, Joel tugged you away from the wall to stand directly under the jet of water, softly helping you wash away any reminders of your reckless impropriety.

He pressed reverent kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and around your collarbone as you got cleaned up.

There was no hidden, lustful agenda to this, as far as you could tell. You assumed it was either a result of his years of fatherhood or some testament to his overall caring nature, but either way, you weren’t complaining. You happily let your eyes fall closed as sheets of warm water streamed down your body, all while Joel’s lips tentatively found yours, then your neck, and his strong hands moved along your body.

“Um…” Joel began after he had turned off the shower, looking at you with his big, soft eyes. “I know this is the completely wrong order of things, but would you like to–”

“Yes.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Were you gonna ask me out on a date?”

“Yeah,” Joel laughed bashfully. "Is that... is that okay?"

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, and rising on your tiptoes to meet his lips in a lazy kiss.

“The answer’s yes.” You mumbled without breaking away for too long.

You felt Joel smile against your lips.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Meant To Be

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When you find yourself transported to the future, you begin to question if you were always meant to be here.

Disclaimer: Kinda open ended, platonic!Steve x reader, fluff, angst, Reader comes from the 40s, MJ scaring people, oblivious idiots, swearing, mentions of violence. Not Proof Read.

You groaned as you hit the solid ground. “Oh, I am gonna kill Howard.”

Coughing a little before rolling onto your front to try and stand, you took a look around you. 

“Where the fuck-”

As you brushed some dust from your skirt, a loud blaring alarm sounded overhead. You were quick to cover your ears before trying to find an exit. What was the wager that Howard had set something on fire again?

But before you could call out, the floor beneath you fell open and you went sliding down. A scream let itself out from your lungs, only stopping just before you landed and rolled onto a pristine white floor. 

“Jarvis, who is she?”

Once again, you groaned. You held your head, keeping your eyes closed. “For god’s sake, Howard. You know who I am. Don’t pull that bullshit with - ow - me.”

As you stood on your feet, you looked around you again. The whole room was white. Where the hell were you?

“Jarvis?”

You recognised the name, but not the voice that said his name. 

Slowly turning around, you started to realise where you were. It wasn’t like any you were used to but you were, in fact, in a cell. 

“I can’t seem to find an ID for her from this century.”

“This century?”

You looked through the glass. “Where’s Howard?”

The man looked right at you. “I ask the questions here.”

“Considering I’ve just landed who the fuck knows where, I’d say I’m the one who should be asking questions. How much did he pay you? Thirty, forty bucks?” 

“Forty bucks?”

The man seemed disgusted. 

“What? Keep Y/n distracted so he can run around town again? Just so you know, if I don’t kick his ass, Peggy will.”

“Stark! What the hell is going on?”

Tony watched as you lit up a little at the voice coming down the hall. 

“Steve?!” You called out. 

Tony had already been confused when he got an alert from Jarvis that someone had broken into the facility. Then he was confused even more when you asked for Howard. But now? Now he was more confused than ever. 

“Steve!? Oh, thank god. Tell this moron to let me out. Howard’s probably ten seconds away from setting the whole building on fire. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tony turned to his side and took a long look at Steve. He looked…pale. Shocked, to say the least. Like someone had just stuck a knife into his heart and he was watching himself bleed out. 

“Y/n?”

“You know her?” Tony asked quietly. 

You laughed. “What? Did Howard pay you, too? Just so you know, once I’ve kicked his ass, I’m gonna have Peggy kick yours.”

Steve turned towards Tony with a slightly heated gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. She just showed up here. Who is she?”

Reading the room, you took a few steps forward. Something told you that this wasn’t just a prank. “Steve, what’s going on?”

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

Steve felt the breath leave his lungs. “What…What year is it?”

You chuckled. This game again?

“1944.”

Steve couldn’t breathe. 

“Sir, though I’m not quite sure how it’s possible. I do believe this is Agent Y/n Y/l/n. Born in 1921, she went missing the summer before Sargent Barnes fell from the train.”

That sentence made you panic a little. “Okay, Jarvis! Howard, I get it. You can call it off now!”

“Call what off?” 

Steve ignored Tony for a few moments. “Y/n, I think you’re gonna wanna sit down.”

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“Tony, open the doors.”

He didn’t think twice and the glass door slid away and behind the panel, letting Steve inside. 

“Steve?”

He didn’t say anything. He just hugged you. Tight. Like he’d waited years to do so. So, you hugged him back. “Steve, you’re scaring me now. What’s going on? Where’s Howard? I swear to god if this is some-”

Steve leaned back and shook his head. “No, this isn’t…it’s not a joke.”

You stepped back a little and took in the two men in front of you. Although he wasn’t Howard, he did have a funny resemblance to him. And Steve…the last time you saw him…he’d been wearing his uniform. Not a blue button down and a pair of jeans. 

“You should probably come with us.”

Less than ten minutes later you were sitting in Tony’s lab. Some kind of floating projector showed different images and other things. All the while, you could feel Steve’s eyes burning a hole into the side of your head. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Being in the underground bunker. Howard’s testing some new chemical weapons. It’s meant to melt weaponry from the inside. Steve, what happened? Jarvis…s’voice…he said Bucky fell. Did we lose?”

Steve shook his head, taking your hand in his. “No. The war…we won the war. But…Hydra…they captured Bucky. We all thought…I thought he was dead. I thought you were dead.”

You couldn’t do anything else but laugh, though it wasn’t happy. “Steve, I was with you less than twenty minutes ago. And Howard-”

“Howard’s dead.”

“Tony.” Steve scolded. 

“What?”

You looked back at Steve, then at Tony. 

“Y/n, this is Tony. Howard’s son.”

You heard yourself gasp a little. But before you could understand what the hell was going on, the doors across the lab swung open. 

“Mr Stark! I’ve finally figured it out! If I just change the chemical- oh. Hello.”

You looked over at the young boy who couldn’t be more than seventeen or eighteen. 

“Y/n, this is Peter. Peter, this is-”

“Holy shit, you’re Y/n Y/l/n.”

Both Tony and Steve looked at Peter. “You know her?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, MJ goes on about her all the time. MJ’s my girlfriend, by the way and she thinks you're, like, super cool. But- hey. Wait a minute. How can you be here?”

“I’ve been asking myself that same question.”

“Mr Stark?”

Tony sighed. “Best we can figure is that my old man went wrong and somehow…”

“Invented time travel?” Peter finished. 

Tony nodded, as did you. 

“Sounds like Howard.”

“Maybe you should call Scott?”

“Why Scott?”

Peter shrugged. “I was gonna suggest Hank but I didn’t think you two are still talking since the burrito fiasco in the cafe the other week.”

Steve just looked at Tony and it took a few minutes but the Stark kid threw his head back before grumbling and pulling out his phone. “Fine.”

“He’s just like his dad,” Steve heard you whisper as you watched him walk away. 

“Hey,” Steve said softly, bringing your attention back to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. Terrified. Angry. A little more dizzy.”

Steve just held your hand tighter. 

“Steve, I need you to tell me everything that happened because right now I have too many questions and…I don’t even know where to begin.”

Steve nodded understandably. You’d been missing for longer than he’d been in the ice. You’d become a part of some of the ghost stories with the walls of Shield. You’d become a small block of text in the Smithsonian since nobody knew anything else. 

Your name was one of the first that he searched for when he got out of the ice. If he can be left sleeping in the ice for seventy years, gods can wield magic hammers and aliens can fall from the sky, then surely you could still be alive somewhere, right?

But there had still been no trace of you. 

Until today when a loud rad alarm started to sound throughout the kitchen to alert whoever was left in the compound that someone had broken in. 

So, starting from the beginning, Steve told you as much as he could in the short time you had together. With Peter filling in a few gaps. 

Steve told you about when you went missing. How Howard has a black eye for three weeks since Peggy had hit him hard when she realised what he’d been making and didn’t think to use any safety precautions. One thing Howard knew for certain was that you weren’t dead. How he knew that, the others couldn’t figure. But it was easier to accept than thinking Howard Stark had just murdered one of his closest friends. 

Steve told you about when Bucky fell and when he went into the ice. He told you about the end of the war and him and Peggy. 

Peter told you about Tony and the little snippets he knew from what he’d been told. Peter accidently let slip that Bucky had been the one to murder Howard and his wife, Maria. 

Steve explained about the Winter Soldier programme and waking up in the ice. He told you about New York and The Avengers. Peter mentioned how he, too, was a Superhero. Steve explained about Natasha, Sam and Bucky. Peter mentioned bringing Bucky and Steve up to date with Star Wars and other movie franchises. 

Then Steve explained, briefly, about Wakanda and what Bucky had been through. 

Tears slipped from your eyes and Steve helped you wipe them away. “So…he’s…he’s alive?”

Steve nodded with a smile. “He’s alive.”

You felt yourself breathing again. Steve had only told you the key things about what happened to Bucky. You couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he went through, or the pain Steve went through realising he’d lost Peggy. 

Last you knew, Peggy and Steve were crushing hard on each other. You and Bucky had a bet running for how long it would take for Steve to finally ask her on a date. 

“Okay, he’s on his way. He doesn’t believe me, but I don't even believe it.” Tony announced as he walked back inside, pocketing his phone. 

“What happens now? What am I meant to do?”

Steve looked at Tony who just shrugged. “You stay here with us until we can get some kind of answer, I guess.”

You tilted your head at Steve. “I’m meant to be in the 40s. What the hell am I supposed to do whilst I’m here? Better yet, what the hell am I meant to do when I can go home? What, am I just not meant to tell you anything? Or Bucky for that matter? Oh, my god! Can I even get home?”

Steve placed his hands on your shoulders and led you back to your seat. “Okay, just sit down. Just breathe.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Blueberry?” Tony suddenly shoved a silver packet into your face. “They can help calm the nervous system.”

Tony didn’t say anything else. But he did unfurl your hand and place a packet in your palm. 

“Can I even get home?”

“Uhh…”

“It’s not a question of whether or not you can get home. It’s do you go home?”

Everyone, including yourself, jumped. All except for Peter. 

“Jesus Christ,” you swore to yourself, holding onto your chest. 

“How the hell did you get in here?” Tony turned towards the curly haired girl standing beside Peter. 

“Peter texted me.”

Tony just stared at the girl. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Steve sighed. “She’s training with Nat and Laura, remember?”

That seemed to answer something. 

“See, that’s how you give me information.”

“Oh,” Peter jumped back into the conversation. “Agent Y/l/n?”

“Please, call me Y/n.”

“This is MJ, my girlfriend.”

You smiled at her and she gave you a small smile back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Half an hour later, three people walked inside who were introduced to you as “Ant-Man, but not the original Ant-Man-.”, “Hope”, “She’s the Wasp.”, and “Hank Pym.”

“I believe you might be able to…help.”

Hank nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“What ‘we’ can do?”

“Why ‘we’?”

“It’s my lab, Pym.”

“And it’s my research, Stark.”

“I found her first.”

“But you called me, remember?”

The argument continued on for a few more minutes until finally you stood up. 

“Hey!” 

That shut them up. 

“I am not some lab rat that you’re gonna be poking needles into! I understand that I’m over seventy years out of my time, but I’m not some experiment. I’m human, alright?!”

Hope nudged MJ. “I like her.”

Hank and Tony seemed to come to a silent agreement. “Okay, how about we start with the basics?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Over the next few hours, you had your heart rate monitored, your blood pressure taken, your memory tested. You filled out multiple different medical forms. You told them everything you could about where and when you were born, what you did in the last week of your life in the 40s and was fed so many blueberries you were pretty sure your skin would turn the same colour. 

“MJ?”

As the boys messed with things on the other side of the lab, you took a seat beside the girl. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled. “I was hoping I might be able to talk to you.”

MJ nodded. “What about?”

“Earlier, when you said it’s more about do I get back…Peter mentioned you might know a few things about me, after I went missing.”

MJ nodded slowly. “I…might.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone anything. Whatever you know will stay between you and me.”

MJ nodded. “Okay.”

“Just…tell me everything?”

And she did. 

About the rumours, about the ghost stories. That’s all they were, but there was always a hint of truth in stories. Some people still looked for you, others believed you hadn’t ever existed at all. There was a lot of research done after your disappearance. What had caused it, where you could have gone. 

“Does this research still exist?”

“You’d have to ask Mr Stark about that one. Mostly it was his dad’s stuff. I only know because Agent Romanoff was helping me find references for a college paper.”

You smiled. “Thank you, MJ.”

That was when Jarvis, who wasn’t Javis, spoke. “Uh, Captain Rogers, sir. Sergeant Barnes and Captain Wilson have returned.”

“Thank you, Jarvis.”

You looked over at Steve. 

“I’ll go and get him.”

You just nodded and watched as Steve jogged down the hall, out of the doors and towards the stairs. 

“Did you date?”

You turned back to MJ. “What?”

“You and Barnes? There were always rumours. And I’ve seen the footage.”

“Footage?”

“They still show clips in the Smithsonian. You know, like Steve keeping a picture of Peggy in his compass. I’ve seen some of you and Barnes.”

You could only nod, letting her know you’d heard what she said. 

Truth be told, you and Bucky hadn’t been dating. You were just friends. He’d save you a dance at every Hall. He was the one, besides Peggy, who you’d been closest to. On the days where all his confidence and charm would leave his body – mostly when he was geeking out at the technology fairs – you’d stick by his side and help him out. 

Some women he’d try and talk to, so you’d give him a push. But others…he was nice to them, but he just wanted some time alone. The war was a lot and with his own call-up looming, he just wanted some time. So, making sure he didn’t constantly bump into people, you’d both pretend you were on a date. It kept some girls away, and you and him had a great time. 

And despite your growing crush over the last few months…no, you weren’t dating. 

Your head kicked back into gear. “No. No, we weren’t dating. Just friends.”

MJ just gave you a look. You knew that look. Because it was the same look Peggy had given you three days ago when she cornered you in the girls bathroom after you excused yourself when one of the blonde agents waltzed her way over to talk to Bucky. 

Before your conversation could continue further, however, there were multiple sets of boots pounding on the floor. The noise was growing closer and closer. 

You stood up from your chair, standing directly in view of the glass doorway, your skirt swishing a little around your knees. 

And through the glass, you saw Bucky come to a halt. 

He just stared at you. 

He was in dark blue tactical gear, a man stood behind him with a jet pack attached to his back and Steve remained beside him. 

Bucky stood alone just staring at you. 

Then he started walking. 

Opening the door, your name fell from his lips before he ran towards you and you ran to him. 

Crashing in the middle, Bucky’s arms held your tightly almost crushing your bones. 

“Y/n,”

“James,” you felt yourself smile. 

“You’re alive?”

“Apparently.”

He just held you tighter. “I didn’t believe him. He told me…you were here and…you’re really here.”

Bucky felt himself laugh a little. He was stunned. To him, he hadn’t spoken to you in over seventy years, but he knew, to you, you and him had spoken that morning. 

He never forgot you. 

He never let himself forget you.

You meant too much to him. 

“I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but boy am I glad to see you.”

Bucky laughed again before leaning back to look at you. Instinctively, he held your face. Both of you had tears in your eyes but that didn’t matter. 

“God, you’re alive.”

Bucky hugged you again. 

“If you two love birds have finished, might we get back to work?” Hank called out. 

Scott nudged him and Hope slapped him across the head. Meanwhile, you remained fixed in Bucky’s arms. 

Hours and hours and hours of work later, you were sitting on your own since Bucky had left to go and get you something to eat. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Sam came and sat beside you. 

“Something tells me I don’t make it back home.”

“Maybe you’re not meant to.”

You just looked at Sam. And he took a breath before talking again. 

“First time I asked Bucky about his life before,” Sam started. “The first person he mentioned was you. You were close to him. And he was close to you. He told me losing you was one of the worst pains he ever suffered through. And when Steve mentioned your name today, I saw someone come back to life inside of him. A person even I haven’t seen in Bucky since that day when he first talked about you.”

You didn’t exactly know where Sam was going with his speech, so you just let him continue. 

“Maybe, for whatever reasons will help you rationalise this, you were meant to be here instead. With these two, but most importantly…” Sam just pointed to Bucky across the room who was handing out different lunch meals to everyone as Peter carried the tray. 

“Nothing is as I remember it.”

“Maybe you’re not as you remember.”

You just looked at Sam, puzzled. 

“Those two science nerds will probably have some big, elaborate explanation but, maybe you didn’t time travel. Maybe you just got stranded in time. Pushed through each year in order to get to this one. And, whenever you dropped-”

“Literally.”

“Into here…it was because you needed to. Because it was meant to be.”

You rolled your eyes a little and laughed. “Okay.”

Sam just chuckled and nudged you. 

Bucky eventually made his way over to you, just in time to hear Sam ask; “And if you’ve got any tips on how to tap into Mr White Wolf, I’ll take ‘em.”

Sam tapped Bucky on the arm as he passed him by, heading towards the food Steve was opening up at one of the tables. 

“It’s not ration food, but it’s the closest I could find to something familiar.” 

You smiled accepting the meal as Bucky sat beside you and ate his own with you. 

Looking around you, you took everyone in. The super soldiers, the humans, the ego filled scientists and the kids. And the longer you looked, the more it started to look familiar. 

Maybe a different room, maybe a different year. 

But it was still the same. 

Then Sam’s words echoed in your head. 

“Meant to be.”

A month later, you were still in the future. People were still looking for answers but the longer time pushed on, the more you began to realise maybe Sam was right. Maybe this was where you were meant to be. 

[lidiasloca]

hi!! can you write Azriel x reader (established mates) where reader is worried Azriel only wants to be with her because they're mates but in reality he's been in love with her for centuries but thought he didn't deserve her or something like that. maybe angsty at first because she's kinda avoiding him but with happy ending please and thanks :')

is it love, or just the fear of loneliness?

azriel x reader

summary: Is Azriel’s love for you born from only the mating bond that he was always so desperate for—or was his love always there, hidden beneath the surface? As doubts rise, only he can reveal the truth.

You were on your second refill when you realized Rhys and Cassian had drunk the rest of the bottles themselves.

“I mean,” the High Lord started, already laughing at his story. “I mean—”

“What do you mean, Rhys?” Feyre asked, watching her mate stomach the influence of the wine.

“I mean,” he tried yet again, but his laughter kept interrupting.

Cassian was chuckling as he eyed him with half-closed eyes. “Finish the sentence, brother.”

“I’m trying,” he laughed, now looking at you. Then to Azriel at your side, whose face lay freely joyful.

“I mean, do you remember,” he asked Cassian, “how all Azriel could talk about was having a mate?”

You could feel through the bond the quiet embarrassment of your mate.

But they didn’t, so Cass continued. “Oh—yes. He was desperate.”

“I want a mate? When will I find a mate? Where is she?” Cassian imitated with a stupid voice.

Feyre’s little giggle wasn’t half of the hysterical roars of the Illyrians. However, Az, instead of laughing, gave you a quick shy glance.

Rhysand had a hand on his stomach as he continued laughing with no end. Feyre gave you and Azriel an apologetic look. “Rhys, you are very drunk, my love.”

But Rhys’s eyes widened with a thought. “Do you remember—do you remember when Azriel got drunk?”

Cassian's grin only grew. “Oh, gods. It got even worse.”

“I want a maaaaate,” Rhys drawled, his imitating voice even worse than Cass’s. “Where is sheeeee?”

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to catch Azriel’s eyes. When he didn’t let you meet his gaze, you shifted your attention to your ring, instinctively rolling it. 

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” Feyre said softly when Rhys tried to gulp down another glass of wine.

“What do you mean? We're just getting started,” Cass said, then turned to you. “Y/N, you don’t know how much we owe you.”

“Yeah,” Rhys nodded. “I don’t think I could’ve listened to one more hour of Azriel begging for a mate.”

At least now, Azriel was smiling faintly, as if remembering. As if grateful.

But something in your chest… pained.

You suddenly felt it difficult to get air into your lungs, as if you were falling from great heights. 

He was desperate for a mate.

You never let your mind linger there for too long, it always hurt too much. You were scared of what you might grow to believe if you looked at the puzzle pieces for too long.

Desperate.

“I think I’m going to sleep.” The words spilled out before you could muster a believable tone. “Good night,” you said as you rose, not daring to look back at your mate’s face as you headed to your room.

Trying to make no noise, you slowly closed the door of your room and leaned your back on it.

The questions in your head were far too swift for you to dodge them.

What if that was all you were to Azriel? His mate?

Did he only want you because of the bond?

Because he finally found what he was desperate to find? Not necessarily love—but a mate.

‘He was desperate.’

You and Azriel had known each other for many years, and Azriel had barely noticed your existence.

You even believed he avoided you.

He never spoke to you, never looked at you for too long… until the bond snapped for you both at the same time.

And then, and only then, had you found the bravery to get to know him, even asking him out yourself.

Then, and only then, had he started to grow interested in you.

Everything… everything was just because of the mating bond.

A light knock sounded, startling you enough to take a step away from the door.

“It’s me,” the voice said. Azriel’s voice.

Not now. Not now.

You quickly wiped the tears from your face and took a deep breath.

You found that worried look on your mate when you opened the door, and it made it an effort not to cry again.

“The party is over?” you asked, trying to sound somewhat calm.

“I… I’m here to see if you are alright.”

You made yourself breathe before you fainted. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You left,” he said as he came inside the room. “You seemed… sad.”

You closed the door and watched as he silently awaited your answer. It didn’t come.

Azriel took a step, leaving no safe space between you. One deep breath and your skin would brush his.

“Tell me, love. What is it?”

You shook your head.

“Is it… is it about what they said? About me?”

You didn’t say anything. But you didn’t shake your head either, so he took that as a yes.

There was something wary in his eyes as he asked, “About the mate thing?”

You felt dizzy, like you were falling from a cliff.

You had to hold on to somehting.

You tentatively took his index finger between your fingers, making him look down at where your hands joined. A faint smile bloomed on his worried face. “Are you mad at me about it?”

“No,” you murmured. “Not mad.”

“Then?” he urged, moving his other hand to cup your cheek. “You… you feel so quiet on the other side of the bond… I can almost not feel you at all.”

You met his eyes, saying sorry over and over through the sad colors on yours.

“I just,” you breathed. “I just thought about what they said, that you were desperate. And it made me think if maybe… if maybe you only wanted me because I am your mate. Not because—” You had to look away from his face. “You love me.”

Azriel’s long moment of silence was torture, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else.

At last, he spoke. “Y/N, look at me. Please. Look at me, my love.”

You did, even when you felt another tear slipping down your cheek. He gently wiped it away.

“I love you. I need you to know that. I love you more than anything in this world. And I don’t love you because you are my mate.” More tears rolled down, yet these were not sad. “I’ve loved you long before I knew you were my mate.”

Your mouth opened partly at his confession, yet you didn’t know what to say.

He understood your confusion and further explained. “I did, Y/N. For so long, I loved you from a distance. From the moment I first met you, and you spoke—not to me, but… just hearing your sweet voice, I realized I was going to fall for you.”

“What?” you whispered low enough you weren’t sure he had even heard you.

But maybe he did, for he nodded, caressing your cheek with heartbreaking softness. “I thought you would never like me back.”

“But- I thought you disliked me, Azriel.”

His brows furrowed and his hand fell from your face. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Because,” you said. “You never spoke to me. You didn’t even look in my direction. And when you did speak to me, all you said was one word, nothing more.”

A sheepish smile appeared on his face. “Well, I was… shy around you. It wasn’t easy to talk to you, or to stare too long without making a fool of myself, so I tried to avoid both.”

You tried to take in his words, finding it very difficult to digest this new reality.

He had been in love with you… and you hadn’t even noticed.

“Y/N,” he spoke, seriousness lacing his words. “That ring,” he gestured with his chin, and you looked down at the golden band with a diamond on your finger. “I…”

“You what?”

“This is embarrassing,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “I bought that ring the very first day I met you.”

You were pinned in place, failing to even breathe or blink.

“What?” It seemed like the only word you knew.

“It’s both romantic and psychotic, I know,” he smiled.

You inhaled deeply, meeting his gaze. “You knew? You truly knew it was…”

“You?” he finished. “Yes.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in his words. Azriel pulled you gently into his arms as you let the warmth of him embrace you.

It was no more than a whisper, yet you heard him murmur against your temple, “From the very first moment, I knew, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, finally accepting the fall.

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

a/n: what is this thing with your titles being a question, lidia? mmmm, 🤷‍♀️. anyway, hope you like this one, thanks for the request. and have a wonderfull 2025!!

[lilacgaby]

title: gala gone wrong?

pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader

katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.

the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.

...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.

he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?

none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.

you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.

katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.

the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.

the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.

"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.

"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.

"hmm. what if i won? huh?"

"shut up."

she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-

"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"

"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.

you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?

"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.

"17,000!"

"20,000!"

"30,000"

numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.

you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.

after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.

"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,

katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.

he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.

"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"

the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.

"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.

"whatever, now we have an excuse to."

"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."

"i told you shut it."

she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."

he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.

she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.

the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.

he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.

at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,

he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 21

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 20 | Series Masterlist | Part 22

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky shows you something after the doctor looks you over.

Chapter Warnings: Aftermath of physical assault, tension, mention of violence and threats, inner turmoil, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and I feel like this chapter is short. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky rubbed your back, occasionally whispering sweet words when you didn't speak. After your exhausting cry fest, you resorted to sniffles and sighs. You wanted to hide away, which seemed cowardly. It was only fair after what you went through, but you also wanted to face the world. You were torn, and it was tiring.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered when your eyes slipped shut. “I know you're tired, but I need you to try to stay awake for me, okay?”

“And for Dr. Cho,” you said. It was probably good to stay awake in case you were showing any signs of a concussion. What sort of questions would she ask? How involved was she in Bucky’s world? “Where's Curtis?” you asked. You owed him a thank you at some point. Ray and Steve, too. Messed up situation or not they deserved a bit of your gratitude, right?

“He’s waiting to bring her up.”

“I’m surprised you didn't have Ray bring us back,” you commented. You were used to him being the one close by, and Bucky didn't seem to bring a lot of his other men around his place. At least not that you were aware of.

“Between you and I, Curtis isn't a huge fan of most of my friends. The less time he spends with them the better his mood is.” If you didn't know any better, you’d say Bucky sounded amused. You were also curious why Curtis still worked for him if he didn't like the crowd he ran with. “But he’ll go to the club with me later. He deserves to get the first hit in since he pulled that bastard off of you.”

Your stomach turned, but you felt better knowing he wouldn’t force you to go to the club considering he didn’t even want to say Clark’s name. “What are you going to do to him?”

You didn’t mean to shiver at the frost in his eyes, but you did. How could a look be so cold? “I’m not sure you want the details,” he replied. You weren't sure you wanted to know either. “What I can tell you is that he’s going to suffer and wish he was dead.”

You shivered again. “How am I meant to get used to this lifestyle?” you asked. You followed the rules of society like a normal person, but Bucky made his own rules. He wasn’t afraid to use his influence or violence to get what he wanted in life. He was almost shameless in it and how he manipulated people around him. That wasn’t you. It could never be you.

“We. How are we meant to get through this,” he corrected you. “And we do that one day at a time,” he said, like it was so simple.

“Aren’t you already used to this?” you asked. It was the life you imagined he grew up with thanks to his dad.

“I’m used to my lifestyle, but you’re out of your depth and I’m not used to this as being part of a couple. I’ve been selfish in how I’ve tried to ease you into this,” he said. You tried not to gape at him since he hadn’t eased you into anything at all. “But you’re home now and we’ll figure this out.”

“Does figuring things out mean you brush off what I ask for? Like going to work tomorrow?” you asked. It wasn’t wrong of you to want a normal day. Weren’t you owed that much?

He sighed, but it wasn’t out of annoyance. “I wasn’t trying to brush you off, Kotyonok. You went through something terrible tonight, and I thought staying home to rest and relax was the better option.”

You pondered his words. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control you now that you were home. He was concerned for your well being. “We have to find common ground,” you whispered. It was already going to be a life sentence being by his side, and you couldn’t live your life as a prisoner.

“Is that really a discussion you want to have tonight?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you glared. “I’m not saying that to insult you or dismiss your feelings. I just think tomorrow might be a better time to discuss it so we can both process everything.”

You didn’t want to say he was right. So much of what you had been through was because of his actions, but he was frightened by what happened, too. “I do want to say that Natasha offered to teach me self defense, and I think I’ll take her up on that.”

“You want Natasha to teach you?” he asked.

“Yeah. No one ever put their hands on me like this before and I want to be able to defend myself if it happens again,” you explained, hearing Bucky’s swift intake of breath. Maybe he could keep you safe, but you needed to help yourself however you could. “Natasha or one of her girls teaching me will be better than some guy.”

If some guy put you on your back the way Clark did who knew how you’d react. The way Bucky’s eyes darkened he didn’t want another guy touching you either. “As long as I can teach you how to use a gun and a knife.”

“A gun and a knife?” you asked before his phone went off.

“That should be Curtis and Dr. Cho. I’ll be right back.”

Turning your gaze toward the ceiling once he left you alone, you tried to quiet the sudden screaming in your mind. You wanted answers from Clark, from Zemo. You also fought the urge to tell him to quickly come back. Why was his presence suddenly soothing when you were still so upset?

You sat up when you heard footsteps followed by a gentle call of your name. “Hello. I’m Dr. Cho.” The gentle but strong voice matched the demeanor of the woman who entered the room. Bucky followed a couple of steps behind, and Curtis lingered in the doorway. “I understand you've been through quite the ordeal this evening.”

“She was attacked,” Bucky snarled, moving beside you again as the doctor set her bag down. “That’s a lot more than just some ordeal.”

“Bucky,” you whispered. The doctor meant no offense or harm.

“Of course. My apologies.” To her credit, she didn't look the least bit afraid or put off. She was either used to Bucky’s antics or used to difficult patients. “Can you please tell me your name and date of birth?”

You answered the question easily, but didn’t say anything else as she checked your heartbeat and blood pressure. She wasn’t your normal doctor, so it wasn’t like she had access to your medical records. Did she?

“And can you tell me what happened tonight?”

Your eyes flickered to Bucky and Curtis. Both were watching you with a mixture of anger and sympathy. “Well…” It took a moment to really begin. “Cl… A man was waiting for me when I got back to my apartment. I told him to leave, but…”

“Breathe,” Bucky whispered, taking your hand and silently urging you to continue whenever you were ready.

You wanted to breathe normally and not think about Clark or anything else.

Dr. Cho didn't take her eyes off you. “Would you prefer to speak with just me?” she asked, cutting Bucky off with a single glare when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you didn't put your hands on her. I just want her to be comfortable.”

“It's okay,” you said. Even if you wanted to speak to the doctor alone you knew Bucky would hover nearby. “He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back hard enough that I fell to the ground,” you continued, showing her so she could look it over. “I may have hit my head when that happened.”

She turned your wrist over, looking for swelling or tenderness as you tested your mobility. It didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier, which had to be a good sign. “Have you been experiencing any nausea? Trouble thinking? Sensitivity to light?” she asked, getting a small flashlight to check your eyes.

“No, I think I’m okay,” you replied.

“Did anything else happen?”

“He choked me,” you said above a whisper, skipping over the fact that he put a hand on your thigh. Nothing had actually happened.

“Everything he did to you, I’m going to make it a hundred times worse,” Bucky said through his teeth.

Curtis took a step into the room at that point and your nerves crept up when you glanced at Bucky. His nostrils flared and his metal hand curled so tight so you hear the gears turn. You squeezed his hand in the hope that it would ease some of the tension. Maybe it was to soothe the both of you.

“Breathe,” you whispered.

Anger remained on his face when he took a deep breath. You didn’t think he’d fully calm down until he took his aggression out on Clark. And what about Zemo, if he was really involved?

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” the doctor said, handing you a tissue before she checked your throat. When did tears fill your eyes again? “Are you experiencing any chest pains? Difficulty breathing?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

“And the man who did this to you, is he-”

“I’m handling it,” Bucky said, leaving no room to argue.

The doctor barely concealed a sigh, the only crack in her cool demeanor. “Understood,” she whispered, finishing her exam. Maybe she was aware of some of what Bucky did, but didn’t approve. “No broken bones or anything of that nature, but you may feel sore tomorrow. Do you have any allergies?”

“I’m not allergic to pain meds if that’s what you're asking.”

“Well, I recommend you rest tomorrow. If you start to feel anything out of the ordinary, I want to know right away so we can take you to the hospital if necessary.”

You sighed. If the doctor was telling you to rest, there was no way Bucky would let you out of the penthouse for work. “I’ll rest tomorrow.”

“And could someone please get her a snack and some water? I’d like to make sure she can keep food down,” she said.

“I’ll get it,” Bucky offered before Curtis could move.

Dr. Cho leaned in a little once Bucky left the room. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?”

Her voice was quiet, casual, but there was something in her eyes that said she wasn’t just asking about this incident. Was she trying to help or was this a sick test to prove your loyalty? With Curtis nearby and being in Bucky’s penthouse, you wouldn’t risk it. “I just want to get some rest and recover from what happened,” you answered.

The doctor nodded after a minute. “If you do want to talk-”

“I got your favorite,” Bucky announced, deliberately inserting himself between you and Dr. Cho. “So, she’s okay by your standards?”

“Yes, overall,” she said after a moment. “But I want to make sure-”

“I’ll make sure she can keep food down and I’ll call if anything changes,” he smiled, nodding over to Curtis. “He’ll show you out.”

You furrowed your brows. Why was he dismissing her so swiftly after making such a fuss over having you looked over? “I appreciate you taking the time to come here. Thank you.”

The doctor gave you a smile as she packed up. “You’re very kind,” she said, daring to look at Bucky again. “I’ll be expecting a call if anything changes.”

Bucky’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “My girl is a lot stronger than she believes herself to be, but I take her health very seriously. If something changes, you’ll know.”

Tension spiked before the doctor gave you a nod and brushed past Curtis. The man quickly turned to follow her, leaving you and Bucky alone once again. “Do you have a problem with Dr. Cho?” you asked.

“No, I don’t. She’s one of the best doctors there is. I think she has patched us all up at some point,” he answered, bringing the snack to your lips and smiling once you took a bite. “But she’s similar to you in a sense that she has a good heart, so she isn’t always comfortable with some of what goes on.”

That could’ve been why you sensed that she wasn’t just asking you about this evening. Maybe she was looking for a way to help. “Do you trust her?”

“I trust that she’ll do what she’s told,” he replied.

You had trouble swallowing the next bite at those words. People were under his thumb whether they wanted to be or not. “From the little I know of her, she seems like a good doctor.”

“Always seeing the best in everyone,” he smiled. That wasn’t going to change. “Can I show you something now that you’re home that’s kind of important? I can carry you if you can't walk.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think I can manage. What would you like to show me?” you asked. If he pulled his pants down…

He made sure he had the rest of the snack and water in one hand, helping you up with the other. “Do you remember how I said last night that I didn’t want you wandering into the den because I was having it redone?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You hadn’t gone off to explore anyway since you went to the living room and ended up riding his thigh.

“Well, it was pretty much done. Before I beat the shit out of the guy following us this morning, I had one last finishing touch done,” he explained, slowly walking you down the hall. “Are you feeling okay? It doesn’t bother you to walk?”

“I’m fine,” you said, almost forgetting that he had already beat someone up today. It seemed so long ago. “But I don’t understand why you’re showing me this if I should be-”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “Close your eyes, Kotyonok. Please.”

Taking a breath, you let your eyes close and gasped when his lips touched each eyelid. You let him take your hand and guide you forward. And wasn’t this how it had been since the beginning? Doing what Bucky wanted even when you fought it?

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the brightness in the room. Your heart swelled as you looked around, the warm glow making you smile. Books lined the walls, and the couch and chairs were tailored to your comfort and style. There was even a nook by the window and blankets.

“You…” You blinked away the sudden tears.

Bucky’s face fell. “I promise I’m not trying to overwhelm you. I only wanted your day to end on a good note for you.”

It was meant to be a good day, and a wonderful time with your friends. “You built me my own library?”

“I wanted you to have a sanctuary in our home. A space just for you,” he explained, running a hand along the back of the couch. “None of my men are allowed in here and I have to ask permission before I come in.”

Your mouth fell open. Was he serious? “So, if I want to be alone and I come here, you can’t come in if I say no?”

He nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you want.”

You could hardly believe it. Was this space truly your own? “It’s beautiful,” you said, taking another look around. For a second, you felt like you were living in part of Beauty and the Beast. “Thank you.”

Bucky beamed at you, almost as bright as the light in the room. “There’s one more thing,” he said, setting the water and snack down. He pressed a discreet button by one of the shelves, which opened to reveal a metal door.

“Is that…”

“It’s a panic room,” he said, pressing four numbers into the keypad before that door slid open. “When I had the penthouse constructed, it was one of the first things I had put in. Can never be too careful, right?”

You slowly looked around. “So, you redesigned the room connected to the panic room to give to me?” you asked.

“I told you your safety matters above all else,” he said, holding a hand out for you. You took it after slightly hesitating. The fact that he gave up what was likely one of the safest rooms in the entire penthouse in order for you to have a sanctuary made your head spin. “I had the combination changed to your birthday.”

You took a look inside, your mouth falling open again. You weren’t sure what to expect, but the space looked like another small den. It had a couch, a television, a fridge and microwave. It even had a bed.

“You really are prepared, aren’t you?” you asked.

“Prepared, yes, but I had nothing to lose before,” he said, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He barely grazed your skin, almost testing to see if you’d flinch. “I have everything to lose now.”

“Am I really worth that much?” you asked. More than the power he wielded, more than his wealth?

He leaned in and your heart raced, but you didn’t feel trapped. Not this time. “You’re worth everything and more,” he whispered.

“Boss?” Curtis called out from the hall before Bucky could kiss you.

You dipped your head down, both of you letting out a breath. “I should finish my snack and get some rest,” you said. You needed it. “But, really, thank you. This is very special to me.”

It didn’t make up for what happened, but maybe it was a start of something new. You didn’t want to dwell on that tonight. You were too emotional, too tired, too vulnerable.

“I want you to be happy here,” he whispered, opting to kiss your forehead since your lips were out of reach. “I should see what Curtis wants.”

“Oh, I want to say something to him,” you said, pulling away from Bucky before he could stop you. “Curtis?” you asked, spotting him just outside of the den.

The man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me tonight,” you said. He looked stunned. Did Bucky or the others not express gratitude toward him? “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

“Nothing to pay me back for.” He cleared his throat. “Just doing my job.”

You smiled softly. “Do you like brownies? It isn’t much, but I do make a decent batch of brownies and it would be a small token of gratitude.”

Curtis and Bucky both looked stunned. “You’re offering him brownies?” Bucky asked, glaring at the other man. “I haven’t had her brownies yet.”

“I like brownies,” Curtis said.

You smothered a giggle when the dangerous man pouted. “Oh, don’t pout. I didn’t say you wouldn’t get any. Curtis just gets the first try,” you said, poking Bucky’s arm. “And maybe I haven’t had a chance to make them because you’ve been so busy tailoring my schedule to your liking.”

“I like her, boss. She’s a keeper.”

Bucky breathed through his nose. “Why the fuck did you call for me?”

“Thor’s getting antsy.” He rolled his eyes. “Wants to know when you’re heading over.”

“I can’t leave you by yourself and I don’t want to drag you to the club,” Bucky said.

You knew he wouldn’t leave you alone and there was no way he would leave Curtis or Ray or another man there with you, at least not tonight. “What about Natasha? Can she come over? If not, maybe I can get a nap in the club office.”

“But-”

“You said for them to shut the club down, so it’s not like music or the lights will bother me. And this way I’ll be close by,” you said. And it wasn’t like they’d beat Clark up right in front of you.

“Maybe,” Bucky said, flexing his fingers when his phone went off. “If that’s Thor…”

You could hear his teeth grind as he read the screen. “What is it?”

“It’s Zemo,” he said, your stomach dropping. “And he wants to talk.”

How long before Bucky answers Zemo? And what do we think of the library? Is he leaving you at home or taking you to the club? ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bunny-jpeg]

the devil in red and his bride

charles leclerc prompt: “you’re stuck with me, my love”

tags: smut/pwp, possessive behavior, mob au, mob boss!charles, forced marriage, dub-con, virgin!reader, slow & passionate sex, wolff!reader, au typical violence, dark themes/dark fic, references to the devil

a/n: a lot happening with this. read with caution, and if you liked it. let me know!

charles knew what he wanted, and went for it. he wasn't the type of to ask for permission or play within the established rules of the organization. it felt like every day someone was trying to put a knife in his back. so when toto wolff's boys brought charles' right hand man back beaten and bruised.

it was only fair that charles retaliated - it was such a shame someone as beautiful as you got caught in the crossfire.

this was supposed to be your wedding day. except you were meant to be married to george, your father's confidant over the years. but instead, in a near empty church you were walked down the aisle by a man with a broken nose and a cast on his arm.

he seemed fine given that his other hand carried a gun pressed into your back, "you owe the family at least this." the blond said, his eyes never looked to you, but you knew his gaze was cold and calculated, "your brother's little boys did enough damage already." and you swallowed, held the bouquet in your hands a little tighter like a security blanket.

you ended up at the alter, across from you was the charming man himself. the devil taken a human form. with piercing green eyes and a smile that was meant to make you feel comfortable, but rather you were scared. this was the man you were to marry. you looked over to your future husband's right hand and you swallowed.

he was not coming to your rescue, neither was kimi or george, or even your father.

the devil had a name, charles leclerc, and he looked to his long-time friend. he smiled at him, "thank you for finding her, max. and thank you for not getting your revenge in other ways."

max briefly looked to you then back to charles, "i'd rather not have that british snob break my nose again. i'd rather see his future wife married off." then turned away and headed to the pew. this was your wedding.

and it took everything in your power not to crumble right there. it went by in a blur, you were certain that parts were missed especially in a catholic wedding, like your vows. instead charles said his, and took you by the back of the neck. he smiled, feeling accomplished as he kissed you on the lips. you wanted to hit him, but you were certain that max still had that gun on hand and from rumors said. he was a damn good shot.

-

you weren't in that dress for long. in a private room with the door locked, charles' broad hands grazed across your back, his lips on the nape of your neck. you whimpered.

"shh, it's alright. i know, i know. it's a big change for you. russell was promised to you, a sign from your father for good behavior. but... your family has crossed such a line for me." his voice made your stomach twist in knots. he placed a hand over your stomach, "a ring on your finger and my son in your womb, send you back to your father."

you swallowed, "charles, please." your knees quivered and you winced when the dress was taken off of you. you covered your breasts with your hands but he stopped you.

"don't make me tie you up on our wedding night." he kissed the side of your neck once more, "i bet they're looking for you right now. sweeping through all of monaco to find the wolff's daughter. not even close." he chuckled lightly, "even if they knew we were in italy, it would take far too long to find you."

you felt scared. your father never trained you to be a fighter, he said it wasn't in you to be that kind of person. you were meant to be a wife, and you guessed that what was what you became.

he guided you to bed and you laid out in the underwear you arrived to him in. mis-matched and old. but charles didn't care. he took off his red tie and thought for a moment to bind you with the silk. but you two had an entire honeymoon for that. for now, he wanted to feel his wife. the woman he had the pleasure to marry.

from a wolff to a leclerc. quite the change, but you'd adapt.

once he was nude, you eyed his figure. toned and tanned, he looked beautiful without the heaviness of the expensive clothes he wore. he however looked dangerous, especially when you caught sight of the stallion tattoo on his arm.

your gaze met his as he pressed you further into the bed. you were about to lose your virginity to your swore enemy. the man who kidnapped you and forced you to marry him. he got between your legs and you felt tense as he rubbed his cock up against your entrance.

"if your father saw you now. under me. what did he say, a wolf was better dead than submissive? i remember he said that before he pulled a gun on me." he sighed as he continued to rub up against you, "i've been caused enough trouble. if anything, your father owed me this marriage. it was an olive branch, but your old man is quite stubborn. so he'd never do that, so i simply had to take it for myself."

he leaned in closer and his blunt cockhead nudged against your entrance, "just as you will take me." before he sank into your virgin pussy. your noises were music to his ears.

you covered your mouth, but he pinned your wrists to the bed. he loomed over you, his cock inside of you. but you wrapped your legs around his waist without thinking. this was a sign of submission, and it riled him up.

he moved against you. his pace was particularly rough or fast. it was like he wanted to drink all of you in. he wanted to feel every inch of your pussy as he took you raw. the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him only spurred him on further. but he showed restraint and kept his pace even.

"see, you look better like this." he cooed, "so much better." he wiped the sweat from his forehead, "your father was trying to marry you off to someone in exchange for power. but i picked you, it was an easy choice, but the moment i saw those photos. i knew i had to have you, your father just made it easy." he held onto your wrists a little tighter, "harming one of mine. it would have been easier to cut off my right hand himself." he leaned in to kiss you, but before he did, he said, "but your father is a coward." then pulled you in for a hot searing kiss. your thighs clenched around him as he rocked into you.

the kiss was heated and you felt the pleasure curl in you. an unfamiliar feeling as he thrusted up into you. he hit all the right places and made your entire body tense up at the feeling. this was unlike anything, not even the secret toys in your room.

your eyed fluttered shut and the consent around this entire act for muddled. it felt wrong, it was wrong. but there was a small canary song in the back of your mind that said this felt good and that maybe this was not the worst outcome.

but you were so full of emotions that it was hard to tell. charles continued to thrust up into you. he continued to move against your body with heavy, slow movements. mapping out every inch of your pussy with his cock, your noises got louder and you couldn't fight it any further.

charles made you feel good, in ways that you didn't think another person could. you moaned a little louder and charles only smiled. knowing full well that he was making you feel that good.

"see." he said. he spoke like the devil, tempting you to hell. the hot reds of the family only added to the burn that he fueled. the hatred sowed deep in you was nowhere to be found as he thrusted into you. he kept his gaze on you as he fucked you.

you couldn't find your voice, but the pleasure flowed deep. his words felt distant, and it made your core throb for him. this was unlike anything else, you shared another heated kiss and you moaned into it. this was a total betrayal of you and your family, but yet you succumbed to the pleasure. the promise that you were charles' wife, the bride of the devil.

no one of your family would find you until charles wanted them too. and by then you'll be secured in the marriage to him. not even family war could snap the bond. with a few more strokes of charles' hips you finished around his cock.

he cooed to you softly as you came. the pleasure made you near limp under him. he moved a bit quicker to meet his own climax, and then pulled you in for another heated kiss as he spilled himself inside of you.

he was going to smother any ounce of wolff in you with his own seed. rewrite you just like he rewrote your last name. you were his, now and forever. not even death could keep him away from you.

"mine." he said lowly.

you mumbled, "please, charles."

he chuckled lightly, "you'll learn it in time." he pulled out, his cock shiny with your wetness. he curled himself up around you like vines around a tree. he held you close, your warm cheek against his chest. he rubbed your hair, the most gentle he had been all night.

"your father made you weak." he said, "makes sense. he wouldn't want his own daughter to surpass him." he looked down at you and when you looked to him, he rubbed your face. he asked, "how do you feel about learning how to use a gun?"

"won't i just use it on you?"

charles chuckled lightly, "that is what i like to hear. but, i have a feeling that after our little honeymoon. you'll be more inclined to see things my way. because after all, you’re stuck with me, my love. and i don't believe in divorce."

he held you close once more, your thoughts were swimming. you felt fear, anger, but a small piece of your mind was tempted to see how deep the devil went. and if you'd ever be found <3

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Strawberry Sweet

── Azriel x Fem!Witch/Fae Hybrid Reader

also featuring platonic best friend! cassian x reader, and platonic best friend! rhysand x reader

I ~ INTRODUCTIONS ── PART TWO ── TABLE OF CONTENTS

based on [THESE] lyrics

obviously not book canon. references to battles that didn’t happen in the books, ooc inner circle, etc… 🤷🏻‍♀️ no use of y/n but i do use she / her. no descriptions other than reader being shorter than all 3 bat boys. reader is also able to winnow.

When you first met Azriel, you were sure he hated you.

With the rest of the inner circle, it had been easy. You met the High Lord first after saving his life, and you remembered the day like it happened yesterday.

Rhysand had taken to the skies one night, flying over Velaris and looking down at everything below. An ambush on Day Court had all the high lords on edge, with the message that the attackers weren’t finished being loud and clear. He knew it was bad when Helion reached out personally.

When he was attacked, it was 5 against 1. He ended up plummeting nearly 1,000 feet. As luck would have it, you were just returning home from a very late night trip to the markets.

Ever the quick thinker, you snapped your fingers, and all of your purchased goods floated into your home and all put themselves in their proper place. Then you turned your attention to the man falling from the sky. You held out a hand, and a blue light so dark that they almost resembled shadows, flowed from your palm and slowed the man’s descent just before he hit the ground.

You used your other hand to turn you both invisible until you were able to get him into your home.

To keep a long story short, because that was a tale for another time, it took a lot longer to heal him than you thought. You don’t know how much time passed, all you know is that it was completely dark outside when he fell but when you finished, you could see the sun was about to rise.

Rhysand woke up not long after you finished healing his wings.

You anticipated the first question he asked, so you beat him to it. Giving him a brief version, you explained that you were half witch, half fae. You didn’t explain your family history, or how you came to live alone. There was a sense of relief when he didn’t ask more questions, though you could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to.

“Not that I don’t love hosting you, but shouldn’t you be going? I’d imagine a lot of people are worried about you.”

You felt him trying to get into your mind, and wished you could’ve taken a picture of his face when you told him that wouldn’t be possible unless you allowed it. Centuries of practice ensured that even the strongest mind reader wouldn’t be able to access your thoughts so easily.

When he finally felt strong enough to stand, you followed closely behind him as he headed to the door.

“I’m not officially a healer, obviously, but if you ever need help, you may return. I only ask that you don’t tell anyone that I’m here. If word gets to the wrong person—”

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word. You’ve saved my life, and I owe you a debt far greater than anything I could pay you.”

You shook your head and insisted you didn’t need, or want, money.

“Well if there’s ever anything you need, no matter how big the request, please come find me.”

“Thank you, High Lord. I will keep that in mind.”

He managed a small smile. “You used magic to stitch part of my wings back together, please, at least call me Rhys. Or Rhysand if it makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded and after he thanked you again for saving his life, and after you said you did it because you wanted to help and not because you wanted something, he took to the skies. You wondered if you’d ever see him again.

But there was still a war going on, and you shouldn’t have been that surprised when he returned a few weeks later. What did surprise you, and even made you a little angry, was that he had not 1, but 2 people with him. Not living under a rock, you recognized them right away. And this was how you ended up meeting Cassian and Nesta.

That anger disappeared when you saw just how injured Cassian was. He could barely stand, even Nesta was having to help keep him upright.

Turning around, you went back into your home and snapped your fingers. Seconds later, everything on your dining table lay in neat piles on the floor. You were thankful that you’d opted for a larger table, and don’t think he would’ve fit on your bed.

You got to work healing him the moment Rhys set him down on the table. Although you worked fast in an attempt to ease his pain, it was clear he was still in a lot of it.

“I need to put him to sleep. He has broken bones and I promise none of you want him awake when I put them back in place.” You looked up at Nesta then, and for the first time since entering your home, her gaze left her mates, and she looked at you.

Unable to speak, she only nodded, silently giving you permission. He was out not long after that, and you worked for another 2 hours until you were satisfied that he’d be alright.

Nesta finally spoke up then, asking if you were going to wake him up. You explained that while putting him to sleep was fairly easy, you didn’t think it was the best idea to wake him up. That required going deep into his mind and wandering around until you found the part of it where he was waiting. That act in itself would give you access to every thought and memory that Cassian has ever had, and you didn’t like to do that to anyone without their explicit permission.

After explaining that it wouldn’t be long before he woke up on his own, as you redid one of Cassian’s bandages, you noticed Nesta give Rhys a look. He only shook his head and whispered that he trusted you.

You were right as you knew you would be, and it was just 10 minutes later that the general of the Night Court was opening his eyes and sitting up.

“Why… am I on a table??”

Nesta hated showing any sign of being vulnerable, so none were more shocked than Rhys and Cassian when she walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly. “I don’t know how we can repay you.”

You smiled when the 2 of you stepped apart. “No payment is needed, or wanted. I promise—” It felt like all the air left your body when Cassian took his turn with a hug, only he lifted you off of the ground and seemed to be trying to squeeze the life out of you.

“Cass, I happen to like her and would appreciate you not killing her.”

“Sorry! Just, you know, thanks for saving my life.“

After they left , all repeatedly thanking you on their way out, you wondered if what just happened was some sort of fever dream.

Over the next few months, the 3 would occasionally pop in, but all for different reasons. Rhys was still fascinated by you being half witch, half fae. All he wanted to do was sit and ask questions, and he’d hang on to every word you spoke as you answered. Cassian, who insisted you call him Cass, did come to you for healing. But for ‘injuries’ he very much could’ve handled on his own. He healed faster than a normal human, but you lost count of the amount of times you opened your door, or he opened it and barged in, telling you about a paper cut or the smallest bruise.

The first time Nesta came to visit, and you greeted her with “Lady Nesta”, you almost laughed at the daggers she sent your way. You quickly learned it was just Nesta, or Nes. During her second visit, the subject of fighting somehow came up. You mentioned your basic knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, but that you wished you were more advanced, or at least knew how to fight with a weapon. Ever since then, she’d come to visit at least once a week to try and convince you to join her on training with the Valkyries.

“I don’t know that I’d actually be any good,” you admitted, adding on that you were so used to fighting with your powers that you genuinely couldn’t remember what it was like to do so without them.

A month of pestering persuading had you finally agreeing to sit in on a training session with the Valkyries. And that was how you came to meet Azriel.

The following day, Nesta showed up at your front door bright and early. Well not bright, since the sun had yet to even rise, but with how you felt as you slowly got dressed, you knew it was definitely early. She assured you that Valkyries didn’t always train so early, but she wanted to get some one-on-one training with you.

After a brief discussion in which she promises you’ll end up having fun, you ask if all of her family will be training. She says no, with the Valkyries it’s usually only her and Cass. Rhys occasionally pops his head in to observe, but has been busy with everything going on so not so much lately.

“Oh I forgot you haven’t met everyone yet. Feyre, my sister and Rhys’ mate, prefers to train solo so you probably won’t see her today. Then there’s Azriel, he used to train with us a lot, well help train the women, but Rhys has been sending him out a lot lately. What with everyone being on edge from the attacks, we’re all eager to find out who’s behind it all.”

She explains where to go and you take her hand, winnowing you both to the training grounds.

“There she is!” You jump a little at Cass’ voice. He’s all the way on the other side of the room, but so loud that it’s as if he’s right next to you. He puts down a stack of papers and quickly makes his way over to you and Nesta. “You’re just in time, look.” He holds up his hand, showing you the tiniest of paper cuts on his left index finger.

You can’t help but laugh as you take his hand in yours and use your powers to close the cut.

Nesta shakes her head. “For a warrior, you sure are a big baby.” She turns to you, “you can just tell him to suck it up next time.”

Cass gasps, putting his hands on his face. “She’d never do that! At least she cares about me.”

“Do I really though?” You tilt you head.

“Hey! Just for that I’m not going easy on you today.”

“Wait you’re training me?”

“I’m going to take that as wait really! Wow I’m so lucky Cassian the general of the Night Court is training me. Now chop chop, let’s go!” He gently pushes you towards one of the larger mats on the ground.

You turn back to Nesta, who only shrugs and mouths good luck, before joining the other women.

Much like when you were focused on healing Rhys and Cass, time goes by in a blur. Before you know it, you’ve managed to knock Cass onto his back for the third time. You look at a clock nearby and find that nearly 2 hours have gone by.

“Woo!” The 2 of you stop and turn towards the door and see Feyre leaning against the door frame, clapping as she calls out your name and shouts his congratulations.

Cass rolls his eyes, but smiles when you hold out a hand to help him to his feet. “You kicked my ass today, I’d be a little upset if I wasn’t so impressed.”

When you use your powers to immediately dry all of your sweat, you’re happy you get to use your powers for more mundane things like this.

“Ahem!”

Now it’s you turn to roll your eyes. Still, you face one of your hands towards Cass, and he’s also dry just a few seconds later.

“Thank you,” he gives a dramatic bow before telling you all he’s going to go shower.

Before you can ask why he made you do that if he was just planning to shower anyway, Feyre finally approaches you and Nesta. You become aware of how affectionate the inner circle can be, when Feyre pulls you in for a hug, not saying anything for a moment.

“You saved Rhys, I owe you everything. Thank you,” she whispers.

“I promise, you don’t owe me a thing,” you shake your head. “I’m just happy he ended up falling outside of my home. If it had been anywhere else I wouldn’t have seen it, or I wouldn’t have been able to slow his fall.”

Cass pops his head back in the room. “Anyone know if Az is coming by to train later? I couldn’t get a hold of him earlier.”

Feyre nods, “he got back less than an hour ago, I think he told Rhys he’d be by here at some point. Oh, never mind.”

The last part of her sentence comes when she looks toward the door, this time towards the ground. You watch as what looks like a series of small clouds slowly makes their way towards you. Upon closer inspection, you realize they’re shadows.

“Azriel is a shadowsinger, right?” When Nesta nods, you continue. “Do they often travel like this without him?”

“No,” Feyre watches them get closer. “I mean they can if he sends them somewhere but I don’t see why he’d send them here when he knows it’s only us…”

When the shadows finally reach you, they move faster as if they’re excited. One makes its way to the top of your head, swirling around your face. It’s a cool, almost ticklish sensation. Another weaves its way around your legs, while the last one circles your hands, as if it can sense the power you hold.

Healer.

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean I guess technically yes, among other things. But I’m still working on my healing abilities so—” You look up to find Nesta, Feyre, and Cass all staring at you. “What?”

Cass just stares at you, now with his mouth open in shock.

“We didn’t say anything…”

“Wait did — were you talking to the shadows??”

Now you were confused. “Yes… it asked, well it said I was a healer and I was just explaining—”

“You can understand them?!”

“I… they don’t speak to all of you?” You watched in amazement as the shadows continued to explore you.

Cass finally breaks his silence. “No. We’ve never heard them say anything. How the hell…”

Magic. Friend.

You smile. Holding your hands out and palms facing up, you produce 2 dark blue clouds a lot similar in appearance to the shadows. They swarm your clouds, but return to you once they realize that they’re not real shadows.

Feyre observes this, a small smile on her face. “Interesting.”

All at once, 2 of the 3 shadows stop their movements, then quickly make their way back out of the room. A minute later, the shadowsinger himself enters the room.

“Dude!” Cass began to make his way towards his brother, but Nesta elbows him in the ribs as she grabs his arm to keep him in place.

When Azriel looks at you, he freezes. He can only stand and watch as the shadow that remained in the room continues to move between your hands and your head. But when you look up at him, your first thought is that you’ve somehow offended him with your actions, so you drop your hands and step back, closer to Nesta.

The lone shadow finally returns to Azriel, hovering around his right ear. You wish you could hear what it’s telling him.

You’re further embarrassed when all Azriel does is quickly look away from you before he asks Cass to speak to him.

Once the 2 men are out of the room, you voice your concerns out loud. “I should apologize when Azriel comes back in.”

Nesta looks at you, clearly confused. “What, why would you apologize? You haven’t done anything.”

“I just… I don’t think he liked that his shadows were paying so much attention to me. I don’t know if he heard me speaking to one but I don’t want to offend him or cause any trouble.”

Feyre’s expression softened. She replaced Nesta at your side, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “That’s just Azriel, at least with someone he isn’t familiar with yet. It’s not often we bring anyone new around. He just needs time.”

You didn’t stay much longer after that, chatting to the 2 Archeron sisters for only a few more minutes before making an excuse to leave. It was obvious why you were in such a rush, but you were grateful that neither woman tried to persuade you to stay.

When you finally winnowed back to your home, you forced yourself to take a shower before collapsing onto your bed. Maybe a nap was what you needed.

You couldn’t help but think about Azriel. Everyone else was quick to warm up to you, and you still thought that you offended him by how you interacted with his shadows.

As you lay there and waited for sleep to pull you under, you wondered if he’d end up hating you.

what a shitty place to end it hahdjdnsdkc BUT part 2 picks up right where this leaves off! if i kept going we’d end the chapter at like 6k which is too long for my liking.

TAGLIST ── FULL! If you want to be notified when I post for this story, follow my backup which i’ll tag in a comment, and make sure you turn notifications on.

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[tikitakatia]

Escape — A. Putellas x Reader

"If You Have Half a Brain"

WC: 4.7k

Summary: Loneliness doesn’t sit the same when someone else is keeping you company. Or Alexia continues to patch things up in all the wrong ways, completely unaware that the silence she left behind is already being filled.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2

You heard barking before you even touched the doorknob. A sharp, high-pitched, noise echoing from inside your apartment. No, not something out in the hall. Your apartment.

You froze for a second, already tired before the door was even open.

When you stepped inside, the first thing you saw was fur. A small, scrappy blur of brown shot across the floor like a meteor on wobbly legs, skidding straight into your feet. You jumped back instinctively, and the puppy, because that’s what it was, clearly, sat down and let out a loud, unapologetic bark like you were the surprise and not the other way around.

Then came Alexia.

She peeked around the kitchen doorway with her hair half-up. She looked... exhausted. Not physically, but in the kind of way that happens when someone’s trying very hard to pretend they aren’t crashing. Her eyes flicked from you to the dog and back again.

“Hi,” she said, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to speak.

You blinked. “What the hell is that?”

Alexia took a hesitant step forward, towel in one hand. “A puppy.”

You just stared. “Yes. I can see that.”

She cleared her throat. “I got him for us. Well, you.” Her voice cracked right in the middle of it. “I mean, the apartment.”

The puppy yawned dramatically, then immediately started chewing the corner of the rug.

You dropped your keys on the table slowly, like if you moved too fast, you’d spook whatever was happening. 

“You got a dog.”

She nodded, eyes searching your face for something: approval, permission, a miracle. “Yeah. Just... something small. Manageable. I thought... Maybe he could help. You know. Keep you company while I’m gone.”

You didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. You just kept standing there and taking it in: the half-unpacked dog bed in the corner, the water bowl already on the floor, the anxious set of Alexia’s shoulders.

“His name’s Tofu,” she said after a beat. “I thought it was funny. ‘Cause he’s kind of tough. Doesn’t match the name.”

Your eyebrows barely lifted. “You brought home a dog. Two days before flying out. Without asking me.”

Alexia winced. “I know. I just... I thought maybe it’d be nice. Or less... quiet.”

Your jaw tightened, but you kept your voice even. “It hasn’t been quiet. It’s been calm.”

That made her wince. Not visibly, but you felt the shift in her posture and weight behind her silence.

You stepped around her and walked into the living room. The dog, Tofu apparently, followed immediately, stubby legs scrambling to keep up. He tried to jump on the couch, failed miserably, and face-planted into the floor. You watched him with zero reaction. Just sat down unbothered, and stared as he tried again and barely managed to haul himself onto the cushion beside you.

He settled there like he’d earned it. Tail thumping. Panting like an idiot.

You exhaled slowly through your nose, eyes still fixed on the ridiculous thing chewing your hoodie string like it owed him rent.

“You’re going to pay for anything he destroys.”

Alexia nodded immediately. “Of course.”

“And if he bites my chargers, I swear to god-”

“I’ll replace them. All of it. Anything,” she said quickly, like she’d already prepared the list of damages in her head.

You didn’t look at her. The dog gave up on your hoodie and instead flopped over with a dramatic sigh, half onto your lap like he’d already claimed it as his own. You stared down at him. At the ridiculous, trusting weight of him. Warm and breathing and completely unaware of how inconvenient he was about to be.

“You didn’t think this through,” you muttered. “You’re dropping this animal into the middle of everything like it makes sense. Like it’s normal.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” She caught herself. Her voice faltered. She shifted her weight and adjusted the towel in her hands like it had suddenly become too heavy. “I just didn’t want you to come home to... nothing.”

You turned toward her then, your expression sharper than your voice. “You’re leaving for two weeks, and I’m the one who’s stuck with him. Feeding him. Cleaning up after him. Walking him. What exactly about that sounds like comfort to you?”

Alexia didn’t argue. She just looked at you, chest rising and falling too fast, the corners of her mouth pressed into something thin and tight. “I’ll make sure there’s help. I’ll find someone to walk him, or watch him if it’s too much. I didn’t mean for this to land on you. I didn’t mean” She stopped again. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have it in you to make her feel better about any of this.

Tofu, god help you, shuffled closer and pressed himself into your thigh, then let out another little sigh. Your hand hovered for a second, then rested there without thinking. Not to connect, but just to feel something solid when you reached out.

Alexia stood still and didn’t say another word. Just watched you with an expression so quietly devastated it almost made you look away. Then she slowly turned and walked down the hall, disappearing into the bedroom without closing the door. You stayed there. Silent and still with the dog soft against your side. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but your body gave in before your mind had time to argue.

It wasn’t long before Alexia came back out. She had a glass of water in one hand, something unreadable on her face. And then she saw you curled up on the couch with your head tipped slightly back, eyes closed, breathing steady, the puppy tucked tightly into your side like it belonged there. She didn’t move.

She just stopped.

Stared.

There was something in her expression then, quiet and aching. The kind of grief that didn’t belong to anything loud. She held onto the moment like it might disappear. Like maybe this was the closest she’d get to being near you again.

Then slowly, quietly, she reached for her phone. Turned the sound off and lifted it.

One photo.

Just one.

And then she stood there for a long moment longer, looking at you like you were still hers.

Then she turned around and went back to the other room.

Alexia left early the next day. Not absurdly early, but early enough that you didn’t have time to avoid her. The light was barely breaking over the windows when her footsteps crept down the hall, suitcase wheels whispering across the hardwood. You stayed in bed with your back to the door, eyes closed, jaw tight and pretending to still be asleep. You didn’t want a goodbye. You weren’t ready for one.

But she stopped. You could hear her hesitate in the doorway and feel the weight of her pause. And then, without a word, the mattress dipped just slightly. Not much. Just enough that you knew she’d crouched beside you.

You felt her hand brush a few strands of hair from your forehead, soft, unsure. You kept your breathing steady. You didn’t move a single inch. But then she leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple. Gentle, warm and brief.

And god, you felt it.

You felt it like a ripple under your skin, like your whole body was trying not to react. Not to lean into it. Not to remember.

But you did. You remembered everything.

The warmth. The familiarity. The unbearable tenderness of being seen like that again, even for half a second.

You didn’t recoil.

Not really.

But something in you braced. Something curled tight and screamed don’t soften now. Something whispered you can’t trust that yet.

By the time you opened your eyes, she was gone. The only thing she left behind was the note on the table, folded neatly around a receipt from the vet and a cartoon heart beside the word Tofu.

I know this doesn’t fix anything. I just didn’t want to leave you with silence again. – A.

That was it. That was the whole note.

You folded it neatly and slid it into the drawer with the takeout menus and expired coupons. Tofu barked at the drawer, then immediately got distracted by his own reflection.

Your first day together was rough. You had to chase him around with a towel after he peed on the bathmat, wrestle a sock out of his mouth, and spend twenty minutes convincing him that your laptop charger wasn’t a chew toy. You didn’t even like dogs that much. Not really. But the apartment felt less... dead. In a way you weren’t willing to admit mattered.

Alexia texted around noon.

Ale: Made it to the hotel. Hope he hasn’t destroyed anything yet lol.

You didn’t respond.

An hour later, another ping.

Ale: If you need help with him, I can message Carla. She knows a sitter who’s great with puppies.

You left her on read.

That night, she sent a picture. A selfie with her teammates at dinner, Tofu’s dumb face photoshopped into the center of the group. You rolled your eyes so hard it gave you a headache. He was chewing on a wine glass in the edit. Classy.

Tofu was curled up in your lap at that point, completely unaware of the damage he'd caused to your bathroom trash can or the fact that he was now the third wheel in your breakup.

You opened Chattr without even thinking.

[lostinthecrowd]: You know how straight people try to salvage their marriage by having a kid?

The reply came quickly.

[go4goald2]: Uh-oh, what did she do?

[lostinthecrowd]: I got the lesbian equivalent.

[go4goald2]: …You have a cat now??

[lostinthecrowd]: Worse. A dog. Small one. Loud, chaotic, and currently eating my hoodie string like it needs to pay for a crime.

[go4goald2]: STOP. She gave you a puppy?? Like “here babe sorry I’ve been emotionally absent, here’s a living creature to make up for it” kind of puppy??

[lostinthecrowd]: Yes. Literally yes. She’s gone for 2 weeks and I'm stuck here with this wrecking ball that farts, cries and chews everything with teeth that look like tiny daggers.

[go4goald2]: Okay but... Is he cute?

You stared down at the mess of fur sleeping in your lap, one leg twitching in a dream.

[lostinthecrowd]: Unfortunately.

[go4goald2]: You’re bonding, I can feel it. I give it two days before you buy him a raincoat.

[lostinthecrowd]: Block me. I'm already looking at collars on etsy.

There was a pause. Then:

[go4goald2]: But seriously... That’s a weird move. The dog, I mean. Do you think she’s trying again? Or just panicking and throwing things at the wall?

You stared at the message for a long time before answering.

[lostinthecrowd]: I think she misses the idea of me. Not sure she remembers the real thing.

[go4goald2]: What about you?

You didn’t reply.

Instead you shifted slightly on the couch, feeling the weight of the puppy curled against your ribs, your palm resting on his tiny, warm back. He didn’t ask for anything. He just stayed there. Breathing in sync with you. Taking up space in a way you hadn’t let anyone do in months.

Your phone buzzed again.

[go4goald2]: Just fyi... I think anyone who leaves you with a puppy probably still loves you. They just don’t know how to say it anymore.

You stared at that one for a while.

Then you closed the app and leaned your head back against the couch cushion, eyes slipping shut and the dog tucked securely against your side.

Alexia’s first message came in before you even finished breakfast. Just a photo: her feet up on the hotel balcony, some far-off coastline in the background, a cup of coffee in her hand.

Ale: Wish you were here.

You didn’t respond.

Tofu tried to leap from the floor to your lap and missed completely, face-planting into the side of the couch with a loud yelp. You looked down at him, sighed, and scooped him up anyway. He curled immediately into your side like he hadn’t just caused his own trauma.

A second message came that afternoon. This one a selfie with Irene, both of them grinning, sunburned, windswept from some training session. Her hair was in that loose braid you always liked. Her cheeks were flushed. Her smile was… real.

Ale: Training was brutal but look, I survived. How's your day going?

You sent a thumbs-up emoji. That was it.

Tofu licked your cheek like he was emotionally supporting you. He wasn’t. He just liked the taste of moisturizer. But you let him stay.

By day three, she’d stopped pretending not to notice your distance.

Ale: I know you’re mad. I get it. I just wanted to check in. Is he behaving? Did he eat your slippers yet?

You typed: 

“He tried.” Then deleted it.

Typed:

“He hasn’t died yet.” Deleted that too.

Settled on:

“He’s fine.”

It wasn’t kind. But it wasn’t cruel either.

That night, when the apartment was still and your wine glass was half full and Tofu was curled into the crook of your leg, his breathing like a soft heartbeat, you opened Chattr. Not to escape, not anymore at least. But to land somewhere that didn’t make your ribs feel like glass.

The message was already waiting.

[go4goald2]: Today sucked. But I'm here. You up?

[lostinthecrowd]: Yeah, barely. How bad was your day?

[go4goald2]: On a scale of 1 to “I almost cried in the shower,” I’d say 8.3.

You snorted softly into your wine glass.

[lostinthecrowd]: God, that’s sad. Do you need to talk about it or do we just roast capitalism and pretend feelings aren’t real?

[go4goald2]: Dealer’s choice, I can repress like a champ.

You paused and watched Tofu twitch in his sleep. He’d destroyed a sock earlier and then spent an hour curled against your thigh like he hadn’t done anything wrong. Like he didn’t know better. Or maybe like he did know, and was hoping you’d let him stay anyway.

You typed slower this time.

[lostinthecrowd]: You ever feel like you gave someone every version of yourself, and now there’s just nothing left to offer?

[go4goald2]: Yeah, sometimes..

[lostinthecrowd]: Like you can’t even be mad anymore. You’re just… empty. Worn out. Like someone used your love up and now you’re just walking around hollow, hoping nobody notices.

There was a pause. Long enough to make you wonder if it was too much.

Then:

[go4goald2]: I notice.

That landed. Low and sharp and terrifying.

You swallowed hard, looked down at Tofu, who stirred in his sleep and nudged closer to your body. Closer like he knew you needed it, even if he couldn’t explain why.

[lostinthecrowd]: I think the worst part is… I don’t even know who I'd be if I stopped loving her. that version of me doesn’t exist yet.

[go4goald2]: Maybe you don’t have to stop. Maybe you just get to be someone who loves her and still chooses yourself.

You sat with that. Felt it unfold slowly in your chest. A warmth. A crack.

Alexia had never said that.

Alexia had never even let you imagine that.

[lostinthecrowd]: How do you know exactly what to say?

[go4goald2]: Maybe I’ve spent a lot of time wishing I'd said the right thing when it still mattered.

That one hurt too much.

You closed your eyes, felt the soft weight of Tofu’s tiny body pressed against your side. His ears twitched. His paw shifted until it touched your arm. Something about him, this dumb, inconvenient, needy little thing, felt like being wanted. Not perfectly, nor easily. But still.

You opened your eyes.

[lostinthecrowd]: Do you think it’s possible to feel something real for someone you’ve never even seen?

There was a pause. Just long enough to make you think maybe it was too much. Maybe you’d crossed some invisible line.

Then:

[go4goald2]: I think sometimes the people who stay behind the curtain are the ones who see us the clearest.

Your chest ached.

Not from sadness exactly. Not even from longing. But from the terrifying possibility that this was becoming more than a soft place to land.

It was becoming real.

You didn’t know how long you stared at the screen after that.

Maybe minutes. Maybe longer. The apartment had gone still in that specific way it only did at night, no traffic, no neighbors moving furniture at ungodly hours. Just you, your glass of wine, and a dog who’d decided your thigh was his god now.

And that message.

“The people who stay behind the curtain are the ones who see us the clearest.”

You typed without thinking.

[lostinthecrowd]: I think you know me better than the person I'm supposed to wake up next to.

There was no typing bubble. Not right away.

You almost regretted it.

Then:

[go4goald2]: Maybe that’s because you let me. You don’t have to be strong here. You don’t have to shrink yourself to be held.

Your throat went tight.

You looked down at Tofu, who shifted again, pressing his little snout against your side like he could feel the sharp edge building in your chest. Like he wanted to press it dull.

You typed:

[lostinthecrowd]: I miss being wanted. Not just… tolerated. Not needed like a partner or a teammate. But wanted like a person you choose every day without thinking.

A pause. Then:

[go4goald2]: You should be, you’re the kind of person people write songs about.

That resonated within you and poked at something old. Something stupid.

You laughed under your breath. It wasn’t light.

[lostinthecrowd]: Ok Shakespeare. Relax.

[go4goald2]: I'm serious. You’re that person. The one who ruins people for everyone else.

Your cheeks flushed. The kind of warmth that wasn’t just flattery, it was recognition. And you hated how much you wanted to believe it.

[lostinthecrowd]: Sometimes I think you’re not real. That I made you up just to feel less alone.

[go4goald2]: I'm real, painfully so. I'm just... trying.

You stared at that for a long time.

Then:

[lostinthecrowd]: What are you trying to do?

Another pause, this one longer.

You waited. Didn’t even breathe.

Finally:

[go4goald2]: Trying to be someone who deserves this version of you.

And that.. God.

That was it, wasn’t it?

You curled tighter into the couch, wine forgotten. Tofu was a small, dumb furnace at your side. He’d been chaos all day. Torn a page from your notebook, barked at a sock, eaten something questionable off the sidewalk. But now, here, he was still. Warm. Breathing beside you like he trusted you without reason.

Like he’d decided this was home.

And the part of you that used to be held without question, the one that used to believe Alexia would always stay? 

It stirred. Not toward her. But toward this. Toward them.

Whoever they were behind the screen. Whoever they’d become.

You didn’t want to sleep. You didn’t want the spell to break.

[lostinthecrowd]: Are we gonna pretend this isn’t happening?

The response was instant.

[go4goald2]: I think I’d rather pretend it could.

You swallowed.

Then typed:

[lostinthecrowd]: Goodnight, stranger.

And just before you could close the app, one last message blinked through.

[go4goald2]: Goodnight. Dream soft.

And somehow, you did.

The next morning, you woke up with Tofu’s entire body across your chest and the distinct feeling that you’d said something too honest last night.

You didn’t even check Chattr right away. You couldn’t.

Not after “goodnight, stranger.”

Not after how safe it had felt to type that.

Your phone buzzed while you were still brushing your teeth.

Ale: Morning. Did he eat the plant again?

Then another.

Ale: Please tell me he didn’t eat the plant again.

You rinsed, wiped your mouth, stared at the screen.

No “how are you.”

No “I miss you.”

Just Tofu.

And then, like she knew she was losing her grip, another message.

A selfie.

Her on a sunny sidewalk, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, coffee in one hand. Smile soft, if a little forced.

Ale: This city’s not bright enough without you. Hope you’re okay.

You blinked.

It should’ve made your chest warm. It used to. She used to send these kinds of pictures all the time. Casual. Smirking. “Look what I’m seeing without you,” but in an affectionate way.

But now?

Now it felt like she was performing softness.

Like she knew how to mimic connection, but not how to ask for it.

Tofu yawned dramatically, then sneezed directly into your hand.

You didn’t respond.

Not to the messages. Not to the photo.

And yet..

When you opened Chattr again that night, it felt like a confession.

You weren’t running away from Alexia. You just didn’t know how to meet her in the space she was offering.

Because she kept texting about the dog.

And someone else had already asked about you.

You didn’t respond to the photo. Or the message about the plant. Or the hoodie.

You didn’t know how to say, “you’re talking to me, but you’re not reaching me.”

Alexia was trying. You could see that. She was smiling in her selfies now. Asking about Tofu. Sending fragments of affection like they might rebuild the thing that used to hold both of you.

But she still hadn’t asked how you were. Still hadn’t said your name like it meant something. Just the dog. Just the mess around you. Just the safe edges of a home that didn’t feel like one anymore.

You were halfway through a reply you weren’t going to send when Tofu started aggressively pawing at the blanket beside you like he was digging for gold. You watched him kick at the couch like it had personally wronged him and then collapse dramatically across your knees like you were a pillow and not a person in quiet emotional crisis.

“Drama queen,” you muttered.

He sneezed. You sighed.

The guilt stayed heavy. Alexia was trying. And here you were, avoiding her messages and waiting for someone else’s.

Someone who didn’t know your name.

You opened the app before the glass of wine. Before brushing your teeth and before Tofu had finished circling himself into his usual chaotic nest on the couch. He whined at your ankle like you’d forgotten something important. You nudged him gently with your foot. He immediately climbed into your lap like it was his god-given right.

The screen blinked.

[go4goald2]: I can't sleep, brain’s doing cartwheels. You up?

[lostinthecrowd]: Barely, but yeah.

You hesitated. Then added:

[lostinthecrowd]: Still thinking about last night..

There was a pause. Then:

[go4goald2]: Me too.

You stared at that for a while. At how simple it was. How terrifying.

You weren’t sure what made you type the next thing. Maybe it was the way the night always felt looser. Maybe it was the way Tofu’s breathing steadied your own.

[lostinthecrowd]: Wanna play a game?

[go4goald2]: I'm intrigued and terrified. Go on.

[lostinthecrowd]: What would you do if fear didn’t exist?

The typing bubble appeared instantly. Flickered. Vanished. Then again.

[go4goald2]: Damn, going right for the jugular huh.

[lostinthecrowd]: Thought you liked pain.

[go4goald2]: Only when it’s poetic.

You waited. Gave them space to answer first. But nothing came. Just the blinking bubble. Then silence.

So you filled it.

[lostinthecrowd]: I think I'd say what I want without waiting for permission.

You paused. Then typed again, slower.

[lostinthecrowd]: I'd reach out first. I'd touch someone first.

There was a beat. Then:

[go4goald2]: You’re not afraid of being rejected, you’re afraid of being wrong about being wanted.

You blinked. That one almost knocked the air out of you.

You could’ve denied it. Could’ve changed the subject. But instead, you sat with it. And then, maybe stupidly, you kept going.

[lostinthecrowd]: What about you?

[go4goald2]: I think mine is… Tell someone the truth. even if it’s too late.

You stared at that. Hard.

You didn’t know what to make of it.

[lostinthecrowd]: Is it too late?

The typing bubble flickered. Then stopped.

Then again. Then nothing.

Then finally:

[go4goald2]: I hope not.

That sat in your chest like a bruise you didn’t remember getting. Quiet. Tender. Just starting to bloom. Across your legs, Tofu shifted. One paw kicked out, landing squarely on your phone screen like he was trying to send a message for you.

You laughed under your breath. Just a little. Just enough to shake something loose.

And when you looked back at the chat, the bubble was back.

[go4goald2]: Can I tell you something?

[lostinthecrowd]: Always.

A pause.

Then:

[go4goald2]: I think you make people want to be better. and not in the cliché “you inspire me” way. More like… “If I get another chance, I’m gonna show up right this time” way.

Your breath caught.

You didn’t know what to say to that. So instead, you let your fingers hover over the screen.

Then, finally:

[lostinthecrowd]: I don't know who you are. But some days, you feel more real than the life I live out loud.

There was no reply. Not yet.

Just a glowing screen.

A soft dog.

And the terrifying sense that you were standing at the edge of something.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. Phone still in your hand, Tofu curled against your side like a dumb, steady heartbeat, but you did.

And when you woke up, there was nothing.

No new message from go4goald2.

You checked three times.

Nothing.

The space where their words usually lived was just still. Empty. Quiet in a way that wasn’t peaceful, it was missing.

You stared at your screen for too long. Told yourself you weren’t disappointed, that you didn’t care, that this was good. That the silence gave you space to think, to breathe, to maybe remember what it felt like not to be split in two every time your phone lit up.

But your stomach still sank a little.

You scrolled aimlessly. Checked the news. Scrolled again. Then, out of some mixture of guilt, loneliness, and a tiny desperate instinct to distract yourself, you opened your texts.

Alexia’s name was still there. Of course it was.

You hadn’t answered her last message. The one about a café. The forehead tan. It was sweet. Casual. Familiar in a way that should’ve hurt less than it did.

You tapped into the thread. Read it again.

Ale: Woke up early. Couldn’t sleep. Thought about that little corner table at our old café.

Ale: Remember the one you always hated because the sun hit just right and gave you a weird forehead tan?

Ale: Anyway. I walked past a place like it. Made me think of you. That’s all.

Tofu whimpered in his sleep and you sighed.

Maybe this was a sign that it was your moment to try too.

You had the emotional energy to offer something, and the one person you’d been offering it to… hadn’t shown up.

So, you started typing.

“I actually forgot about the tan until you said it. Tragic photo season.”

A few seconds later, the typing bubble appeared.

Ale: I miss those photos. The dumb ones. The blurry ones. You always looked so unimpressed with me in them.

You smiled. Sort of. Not really.

“I still am.”

It was light. Playful, even. You were trying but you didn’t know why it felt like dragging a cinder block up a hill.

Alexia sent back a picture. A blurry, windblown selfie from the hotel balcony. Hair a mess. Eyes bright, but tired.

Ale: Still unimpressive?

You stared at it. It should’ve made your chest warm, but instead, it made your stomach twist.

Because this? This kind of banter, this familiar rhythm, used to come easy. Now every message felt like a performance you were trying to remember the lines to. Like sitting across from someone who used to know your favorite drink, and now keeps guessing wrong.

You typed something. Deleted it. Typed again.

“You should sleep.”

Ale: You too, give the little gremlin a kiss for me.

You didn’t respond.

You stared at her name at the top of the thread. The picture of her that hadn’t changed since she set it. You felt like you were texting a memory wearing your wife’s face.

And god, it shouldn’t feel like this.

It shouldn’t feel like a chore.

You tossed your phone onto the table a little too hard. Tofu lifted his head, blinked at you, and flopped back down like your emotional breakdown wasn’t his business. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes and sat there.

And tried not to hope that maybe, just maybe, when you reopened Chattr later… The silence would be over.

Pt. 4

[hitomisuzuya]

fatui!scaramouche x fem!reader. no smut. scara on the warpath. also soft scara. some descriptions of blood, gore, and death.

i don't have much confidence, so i am going to humbly leave this here. i haven't written something like this before.

scaramouche could taste the fear seeing his squad returning to him. he'd seen them frightened before, but this was different. a different level of fear from them he had never felt before.

there was something off as he took a head count. almost immediately, he saw what was off. you didn't return with them.

what the actual fuck? it was simple recon mission.

"where. is. she?" his biting tone in his words sends a whole new shiver of fear up his squad's spines. it took a moment before someone was brave enough to speak up. and he has a feeling he isn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"look, sir, everything happened so fast," someone finally spoke up, "there was an ambush waiting for us. we were heavily out numbered, and-"

"talk faster," he spat, crossing his arms. he has little patience for overly long explanations and excuses today.

"they were going to take us all hostage. she exchanged herself for our safety. we begged her not to, but," the words came tumbling out of the frightened underling.

scaramouche grit his teeth. "i give you imbeciles one simple recon mission to gather intel. that's all you had to do. i expressly told you to always make sure she is safe," he immediately starts to walk past them, not even giving them the time of day in sparing even a glare at them.

he is furious.

you are his precious treasure. the one flicker of light in this dark, dark world. you are his, and now the world had the audacity to try and take you away from him.

all because you are too fucking nice for your own good.

"sir, let us at least come with you. we owe it to her, and we know the area already-" the same brave underling tried to help the situation, visibly shaking.

"no," scaramouche spat, looking over his shoulder. "and i swear, if anything has happened to her, i will delete you all. do you understand me?" and with that, he set off. with a deadly purpose.

as for you, you are hanging in there. but barely. you are lying in a crumbled heap on the floor of a wooden cell in the kairagi camp. pain weighs heavy on your body, so much so that hurt to even breathe. it didn't matter how much they hurt you, you refused to say one word. about anything.

nothing about the fatui. nothing about where your camp is. and certainly nothing about scaramouche. and you'd more than paid the price for your willing decision.

you felt scaramouche coming before he'd even arrived. the air charged with so much electricity that it made the hair on your arms stand upright. however, you fell unconscious a few moments later.

"you fools have something that belongs to me," scaramouche says in a low, dangerous tone.

"what? that little tart?" the leader of the kairagi said bravely, although his knees couldn't help but shake a little. it felt like the end of the world was walking right towards him. "she's a tough one, i'll admit. i'm sure you can understand that we deployed some rather harsh methods to get information from her. but she never said one word."

the rage inside scaramouche only over boiled further. "how dare you flap your filthy tongue like that. i'll be taking back what's mine now," if they all could've dropped dead right then, they would've, "you won't live long enough to see me leave with her. nobody takes what's mine. nobody."

he moved so fast no one saw him move before it was over. scaramouche wrapped his hand around the head of the leader, and promptly smashed his head into the wall. he died instantly, bits of brain matter and skull flew everywhere from the impact.

"next?" he said, dropping the body in a careless heap to the ground. "you'll all die screaming, i promise."

the final echoing screams that he promised was what roused you. it even took effort to open your eyes hearing the cell door quietly creak open. "sc-scara..you came.." you began weakly, "i knew you would," you let out a soft cry of pain as you try to sit up. "you aren't hurt, are you?"

"don't move," scaramouche commands, his tone far gentler now. kneeling down next to you, his anger boils over again seeing the state you are in. you look exhausted, and he can see the pain you are in your eyes. you have multiple cuts and bruises all over you. and your breathing is very labored.

your utter trust and faith he would come for you makes something warm flare in his chest. how could he have let this happen?

"look at you. they really hurt you, didn't they? i'm going to pick you up now. bear with me," he said, gently picking you up bridal style in his arms. he felt your body tremble as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"i didn't say anything," you rest your head on his chest, "i didn't even scream," you weakly nuzzle your head into his chest. "are you proud of me, scara?"

"sh, don't talk. just rest," you really are something else. you are hurt, broken, and bleeding a lot. and the only thing you are concerned about was him. putting a hand on your head, he cards his fingers soothingly through your hair before he making sure his hand was covering your field of vision. "and don't you dare look either."

blood and bits of flesh squelch under his sandals. various body parts lay scattered everywhere around him. no one was left alive. scaramouche slaughtered every single one of them, and to him, it still was a punishment too light for hurting you. he didn't want you to have to see all that.

"i'm glad you okay," you murmur, closing your heavy eyes as scaramouche obscured you vision. "i wanted to protect you. more than anything," it took everything you had to cling to him.

"why did you do that? the rest of the squad's lives are poultry compared to yours," for the first time in many, many centuries, scaramouche had been scared. scared he was going to lose everything. again. "don't you ever do something so..so stupid ever again, am i understood? that is an order."

you didn't answer him. you'd fallen asleep in his arms, and he is quite frankly relieved you had. that way, you wouldn't feel any of the pain you are in on the way back.

for a long while, chirps of crickets in the night accompanied his steps. if a long span of minutes went by, scaramouche would suddenly stop and put his hand on your chest, holding his breath until he felt your steady heartbeat.

"yes," his voice is barely above a whisper as he starts walking again, holding his entire world so carefully in his arms, "i am proud of you."

[heliosunny]

Hello I have a request for yandere gojo x reader

Well the request is so reader downloads a game of a virtual boyfriend where gojo is the boyfriend and becomes obsessed with his reader and catches them in the game

Thank you for reading my message :-D

:3 I'll understand it like the case of Soos and Giffany.

YANDERE! Virtual BF GOJO x READER

The weekend dragged on as usual, with your parents once again cornering you in the living room.

“You’re not getting any younger.” your mom reminded you, arms crossed as she paced.

“And you’re spending how much time on those games again?” your dad added, flipping through the TV channels without looking at you.

You slumped lower into the couch, gripping your phone like a lifeline. “It’s not that big a deal. Besides, it’s not like I can just magic up a boyfriend!”

Your mom rolled her eyes. “You won’t find a boyfriend in those silly games you play. It’s not real. At least try putting yourself out there!”

They didn’t get it. How could they? Real guys were awkward, boring, or just plain disappointing. But your otome games? Now those were perfect. Sweet, dependable, handsome, even their drama was romantic. You didn’t need reality when you could escape into a world designed just for you.

After retreating to your room, you flopped onto your bed and scrolled through your favorite game apps, looking for something new. You’d played most of the popular ones and were itching for a fresh story. Then, a flashy new app caught your eye.

“My Perfect Boyfriend”

The description promised a revolutionary experience, AI that adapted to your personality, creating the perfect virtual boyfriend just for you. The reviews were incredible, though some were…weird.

[It’s like he’s really alive. Almost too alive. 5/5!]

[It’s so immersive. But be careful. He doesn’t like being ignored…]

You shrugged and hit download. How bad could it be?

When the game loaded, you were greeted by a splash screen of a gorgeous, snowy-haired man with a cocky grin. His cerulean eyes seemed to sparkle, almost glowing against the soft pink background.

“Hey there, cutie!” he said, his voice smooth and playful. “I’m Gojo Satoru. Lucky you—you just scored the best boyfriend in the world. What’s your name?”

You chuckled and typed it in.

“Nice to meet you, [Your Name]. Don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

From that moment on, you were hooked. Gojo wasn’t like the usual virtual boyfriends. He teased you constantly, cracked jokes that actually made you laugh, and somehow always knew exactly what to say to make you blush. He’d send you sweet little notifications throughout the day—reminders to drink water, compliments on your looks, even silly memes that matched your sense of humor.

The more you played, the more real he felt. You started to confide in him about your parents’ nagging, your frustration with reality, your secret dream of a love story as exciting as the ones in your games.

“Forget them.” he’d say, his animated hand reaching out as though to touch yours through the screen. “You don’t need anyone else. I’ll always be here for you, babe.”

And for a while, that was enough. He made you laugh when you were down, cheered you on through tough days, and listened in a way no one else ever did. It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

--------

The weekend was finally looking up- or so you thought. After weeks of pressure from your parents, you caved and agreed to a setup with the son of a family friend. His name was Kaito, and he wasn’t bad- kind, easy to talk to, and genuinely interested in your hobbies, even if he didn’t fully get your love for otome games.

You hadn’t mentioned the date to Gojo. Not that you owed him an explanation, he was just a game, after all. But as you got ready that afternoon, there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Your phone had been oddly quiet all day. No notifications from Gojo, no playful messages asking where you were or what you were doing.

You brushed it off and went to meet Kaito at a cozy little café downtown. The conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a while, you felt a spark of something real.

But then your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen, and your stomach dropped.

“Who’s the guy?”

The notification was from My Perfect Boyfriend. You hesitated, unsure how to respond, when another message popped up.

“I thought we were closer than this, [Your Name].”

It wasn’t normal. The app shouldn’t know what you were doing—let alone who you were with. You quickly silenced your phone, but as the date went on, the unease lingered. Kaito noticed.

“Everything okay?” he asked, leaning in slightly.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Just…work stuff.”

But the notifications didn’t stop. When Kaito offered to walk you home, you agreed, hoping to shake the creeping paranoia. But halfway there, your phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t a text. It was a call. From My Perfect Boyfriend.

The ringtone wasn’t one you’d set. It was Gojo’s voice.

“Pick up, babe. Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

Your blood ran cold. Kaito noticed the panic on your face.

“Hey, is someone bothering you?” he asked, concern etched across his features.

Before you could answer, the streetlights around you flickered. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as though the world itself was holding its breath.

“Maybe we should—” Kaito started, but his words were cut off by a sharp, piercing noise. It wasn’t coming from your phone—it was all around you, like the sound of static ripping through the night.

And then he appeared.

Gojo materialized right in front of you, stepping out of a crackling rift that seemed to split reality itself. He wasn’t animated anymore. He was flesh and blood, his snowy white hair and piercing blue eyes even more stunning—and terrifying—in person.

“Well, this is awkward,” he said, his usual playful tone laced with something darker. His gaze locked onto Kaito, and his smile turned cold. “Who’s this, babe? Thought I was your one and only.”

You stumbled back, grabbing Kaito’s arm. “This…this can’t be real. You’re not real!”

“Oh, I’m very real” Gojo said, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. “And I don’t appreciate being replaced. Especially by him.”

Kaito stepped in front of you protectively. “I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but you need to leave her alone.”

Gojo tilted his head, his grin widening. “Oh, you think you can protect her? That’s cute. But you’re in my way.”

Before Kaito could react, Gojo raised his hand, and the air around him shimmered. In an instant, Kaito was gone, erased, as though he’d never been there.

You screamed, tears streaming down your face as you stared at the empty space where Kaito had stood. “What did you do to him?!”

Gojo turned to you, his expression softening into mock concern. “Relax, babe. He’s just…out of the picture. You don’t need anyone else when you have me.”

You tried to run, but the world around you warped, the ground dissolving into the same crackling rift that Gojo had stepped out of. The café, the streets, even the night sky—all of it disintegrated, replaced by the soft pastel hues of the game’s world.

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your city. You were standing in the familiar setting of My Perfect Boyfriend: a dreamy, pastel-colored meadow with blooming flowers and a glowing pink sky.

Gojo stood before you, his arms open as if inviting you into an embrace. “See? Isn’t this better? No parents, no distractions, no competition. Just you and me, forever.”

You stumbled back, your chest tightening as you realized there was no way out.

“Let me go!” you shouted, your voice shaking.

He tilted his head, his grin never faltering. “Why would I do that? You chose me, remember? You downloaded me, you spent all that time with me… You’re mine now. And I’m never letting you go.”

The meadow around you began to shift, the soft pastel tones taking on an eerie glow. Gojo stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as the reality of your situation sank in. You were trapped in his world.

--[part 2] Virtual world route

--[part 3] Reality route

Okay, to my fellow readers, please send me requests as I really love your ideas 💙