#but i just feel like they want me to talk about something else since what i say is not interesting. i suppose if i had a crush at work we

[dokyumms]

seventeen's reaction to you overworking yourself (hyung line) !

pairings: hyung line x reader (find maknae ver. here)

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.6k

cw: light cursing, overworking, fatigue, fainting

a/n: i had to cut this in half since it was getting too long and i wanted to make sure i posted today! i have NO idea why i made seungcheol's so long lmao. hope you enjoy kings ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ also, i will be closing my requests so i can catch up on them over the weekend, i'll try to get them done by monday! thank you for all the support, it means so much to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

seungcheol - seungcheol is livid. you're still at your second part-time job when seungcheol calls you, "send me your location, y/n." you didn't tell seungcheol you had taken on a second job. you've never been comfortable with money, always having to work multiple jobs to stay afloat. that was until you met seungcheol, and since then he's always taken care of your expenses, even offering to pay for part of your tuition, and you decided it was enough. you didn't want for your (millionaire) boyfriend to think you were using him, so you told him you took on some evening classes.

today, you're covering someone else's shift. originally, you weren't going to, but after their promise of sending you a little extra money for it, you accepted.

"cheol, i told you i'm-"

"at class still? don't bullshit me, y/n. you didn't take on any new classes, you left your paper schedule on the counter."

your stomach drops. ah hell, you must be stupid. "y/n, what are you really doing?" he asks, almost pleading. there's absolutely no fighting it at that point, "i'm... at work. shift just ended, i'll send you my location." in defeat, you sit on a barstool at the restaurant and wait for seungcheol.

when he walks in, his eyes are immediately on you, walking over and grabbing your hand. "let's go," is all he says. the car ride is silent with tension; he only asks about it once you two are both home. "why? y/n there's no reason for you to be working another job. i'm right here; if you needed financial help, i could've helped you." he says gently, trying to maintain his frustration, but his brows are furrowed, exposing his true emotions.

"that's just the thing seungcheol, you're always here to help me. i don't want to use you because i can't support myself." you reason, but seungcheol obviously isn't buying it. "y/n, you're not using me, even if you did i wouldn't care. i don't want to watch you struggle when i know i can help." he takes your hand into his own. "don't do this to yourself, please. i love you too much to let this keep going." looks like you're quitting that job.

jeonghan - you and jeonghan are walking home from your date night. it's supposed to be romantic, you two walking hand in hand, but you're feeling the weight of the all nighters you've been pulling all week to finish your project, walking wobbily on the side walk.

"did you drink or something? you're walking a little funny babe." jeonghan teases before giving you a genuine look of concern. you try to laugh it off, "hah, maybe." but then your eyes start to droop ever so slowly. jeonghan notices, "have you been sleeping?" damn. did your concealer wear off or something? you're about to respond, but your legs give out and jeonghan catches you before everything goes dark.

you wake up on the couch, tucked in with a blanket with jeonghan caressing your forehead lovingly. "so i'm guessing the answer to my question is no," jeonghan murmurs, giggiling. "but seriously y/n- don't scare me like that," he adds. "i know i know, sorry-" you say, trying to sit up, but jeonghan interupts. "i don't think so, you need to rest baby," he gently pushes you back down before joining you on the couch. "we'll talk about this seriously later, let's just sleep for now." wrapping his arms around you, leaving you no choice but to comply.

joshua - joshua wants to trust you, knowing that you're fully capable of taking care of yourself, but he can't help but worry when he looks over at you. you've been sitting at your desk for hours now, trying to finish all your assignments before the end of the grading period.

he walks over, putting his hands on your shoulders and massaging them. "you've been working for a bit, love. how about a break?" he suggests. you turn around, giving him a small smile, "i really would shua, but i've got like 2 hours till this is due. just let me finish this and i'll take a break." he frowns, "you promise?" "i promise," he hums in response, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before retreating to whatever he was doing.

2 hours later, joshua is back at your desk, only to find you slumped over your papers. he sighs, shaking his head before taking a look at your laptop. "hm, looks like you made the deadline," he says softly, gently shaking you awake.

"you did it, love. i'm proud of you, but i don't want you doing this often- it makes me worried." he murmurs, "come on, you need to take your well deserved break in a more comfortable space," taking your hand and guiding you to your room.

jun - honestly he gets it, between his singing and acting career, he knows what it's like to always feel like you're on the clock. he still doesn't approve of this though.

you just got home from working over time, it's 11:35- you both should be asleep, but he's waiting for you on the couch. looking at you, his heart breaks, noticing the eyebags, the bad posture, the way you're barely holding onto your bag, all of it. he makes his way over to you.

"oh, y/n," you don't process what's happening, about 30 seconds from fall asleep as he holds you. taking your bag from your hand, he then ushers you toward the couch. he helps you take off your jacket and shoes.

"do you want something to eat? water?" he asks while laying you down. you shake your head, but he still hands you a waterbottle anyway. "i'm always scared when you're like this bǎo bèi," he comments softly. "please take care of yourself, but if you can't, i'll be here." he gives you a kiss before laying your head down, falling asleep almost immediately.

hoshi - hoshi is nothing short of assertive, literally showing up to your job. "soonyoung, what are you-" "do you know what time it is? i'm taking you home." he leaves no room for argument as he drags you out of your work place. you're going to need to explain this to your manager.

"i'm not letting you do this to yourself, y/n. it's late. why are you still trying to work at this hour?" he asks, frustrated. "soonyoung, you know why. i don't have a roommate anymore; i can't pay rent with one income." he sighs, "i know, but you just look so- i don't know- tired now. i can help y/n, just let me."

there's no talking your way out of this, you just let him drag you all the way back to your apartment while rambling about how bad working late could be for your health: what if someone kidnaps you on the way home? what if you faint while you're walking up the stairs because you're so tired? what if you're so sleepy you don't notice someone walking by and you run into them and fall into a storm drain?

wonwoo - he doesn't scold you, but he'll get all nerdy and tell you terrible facts about not taking care of yourself.

you're bent over your laptop, trying to finish a whole group project on your own since you got assigned terrible partners. he sits down besides you, whispering in your ear, "keep sitting like that, and you won't be able to walk properly at 40," you scoff, but adjust your posture anyway, you don't want to test this guy. smiling in victory, he kisses you before walking away, reminding you to take a break.

you don't listen to him though, getting carried away in your work. wonwoo comes back every so often to tell you that your brain will start eating itself because you haven't eaten, you'll get terrible wrinkles because you're dehydrated, all that stuff.

once you're finally done and in bed, he scolds you, of course. "i know you think i'm joking, but i'm not y/n. this isn't good for you, next time you do this, i'm forcing you to stop, okay?" he strokes your hair and gives you a kiss. "i love you a lot, so take good care of yourself, can't have you dying on me."

woozi - out of all the members, he's definitely the one who relates to you the most. he knows you'll drown out the sound of people telling you to take breaks, so he takes things into his own hands.

you're working at your desk when woozi turns your chair around and grabs your hand, dragging you to the couch. you try to argue, you really need to finish this so your group doesn't fall behind on the project, but he doesn't take no for an answer.

"shush y/n, just let me talk." he starts, "i know what it's like, i really do. you feel like everyone is depending on you, and maybe they are, but you don't have to do it all alone," when you try to dismiss him and get back to work, he's actually pinning you to the couch. in any other circumstance, you'd be turned the hell on... but he's serious about this. "listen, stop trying to shut me out y/n. i'm someone you can rely on, and i want you to. don't do this to yourself, i won't let you."

you nod in agreement. "good, now let's just stay here for a second," he lays on top of you, trapping you under him so there's nothing you can do but rest.

[cisnt-critter]

I will sit there thinking about doing a task for literal hours. I will mentally bargain with my own brain over the task. I will start offering different tasks! Desperately hoping that one of them will make my body move. I will keep doing whatever I’m doing- be that doomscrolling or drawing or watching a video or literally nothing. I will plead “please we are hungry- at least go eat something!” “Please we need to clean!” “The homework is easy!” “We have to do laundry” “actually please just at least stand up” “do anything else” “wouldn’t a walk be nice?” “What about writing or reading somthing!” “Or drawing our blorbos?!” “Please?” and my body just doesn’t listen, my brain lets echos of what I need and/or want to do loop in the background while I continue to not do a thing. It is hell. It is hell that happens less and lasts for a shorter amount of time when I’m medicated but it is a hell I can’t control and that is always a risk. Sometimes I’m exhausted but I feel like I can’t sit down on the floor for a second to pet my cat in fear that I will become trapped there.

And yet I genuinely didn’t know there was a difference between what I was feeling and people saying they were feeling/being lazy for so long. I only got diagnosed after Covid made me do school work in front of my parents and they eventually noticed how them removing distractions and them hearing me talk about wanting or needing to do something would still lead to it not getting done. Since the diagnosis it’s been a process of learning that I am not inherently flawed or immoral (tho there’s something to be said about how productivity is tied to how moral a person is viewed to be).

Idk for sure why I feel the need to say any of this but I guess I want to see if my words can help people understand themselves or others. It’s rough.

people who dont experience it cannot comprehend how awful executive dysfunction is. I WANT to do the task, i have the resources TO do the task, i will feel better having DONE the task

but i cant fucking do the task

[yamumsyadadd]

First love

Part of the mariquita universe. i didnt proof read this at all :)

its about 4.7k words. bit of yelling, mentions of sex.

It took a long time for you to be comfortable telling your parents what you needed. Everytime you tried, the worst washed over you. But it never happened, both your mami and mama would move mountains for you. 

This time it was because you felt a little neglected. Rio was two, he was mobile and just loved to be around people. Olga got one on one time with him most days, your mami however did not. A large quantity of her free time in the evenings and even weekends was spent playing with Rio, which left very little time for you. 

As you were sitting on the couch, your mami on your right and Olga on your left, Rio in bed. 

“I have something to say.” It came out a lot harsher than you were anticipating, both your mami and Olga whipped their heads around to look at you, slightly taken aback by the way you spoke. “Sometimes I feel a little left out because you both have one on one time with Rio and not with me. I know he’s small and needs help but it would be nice to have one on one time too.” You couldn’t lift your head up to look at them, feeling slightly embarrassed that you weren’t being more independent. 

“Mariquita, I’m so sorry. We are sorry, that you’re feeling that way. How about we make a plan? One day or morning or whatever, we can have it as just us. No one else.” Your mami said as she stroked through your hair. 

“What about Olga?”

“What about me? You want to have one on one time with me too?” 

“Well yeah. You’re my third parent?” 

For the 6 years that Olga had been in your life, she had tried not to make any parenting decisions directly to you, always texting your mami and mama, not wanting to over step the line but now with you saying it, she felt more at ease. To her you were her daughter, just as much as Rio was her son. 

“How about on Saturday mornings we alternate? One week with me, one week with your mami, then if it’s a home game we can have a movie night on Saturday nights?” Olga knew she had to hold in her tears, saving them for when she was wrapped up in alexia’s arms later tonight. 

“I like that plan.” Your mami kissed your head, giving Olga’s shoulders a squeeze from behind you. 

For the next year, that’s how to worked. Every week you’d have one on one time with your mami and Olga. Even if Olga was meant to be in Madrid, she’d make time for you. Very occasionally someone else would join. Sometimes Alba, sometimes one of two of Olga’s friends. 

With your mami, your favourite thing was going on a hike. They weren’t particularly easy ones and not once did she complain. With Olga, you typically ran, 5 or 10kms, sometimes going to Pilates or yoga, always ending up at your favourite cafe for brunch and coffee. 

————————————-

As you got older, more mature, so did your body. To your mami and Olga, it was like you grew boobs overnight. The boys and girls at school noticed too. You went from being a flat chested, quiet girl, to being a c-cup, pretty and popular. 

Your bright green eyes, light freckles that littered your face, stood out to the boys but one boy in particular. Juan had been in your class since you moved. You didn’t know much about him, he was athletic, enjoyed playing football but he was also creative. He drew a lot, you would see all the drawings as you passed his desk in the mornings. He was in the ‘popular’ group at school but he was definitely the most quiet out of them. 

There were times when you were paired together, during gym class or biology but you were never really able to talk. It was all about school and getting the work done. 

It wasn’t until the Sant Jordi festival that you really got to know him. The Barcelona team, Olga and a few of her friends were going, your friends too. Your mami let you go off with them for a few hours, only for most the girls to go off with their boyfriends leaving you alone with Juan. 

“So, um, what do you do for fun?” He would barely look at you, hands buried in his pockets to avoid an accidental touch. 

“I like to run, do yoga, hiking, I like science and reading too. How about you? I know you play football.” 

“I like hiking too! I do play football, not for Barcelona or anything yet. But that’s the dream right?” He chuckled slightly. 

“Yeah I guess.” 

“You don’t like football? I thought you would because of your parents.”

“I like watching, I don’t like playing. It was never really fun for me considering who my parents are.” 

“Ah gotcha.” That was all that was said for a while, until you saw your mami who waved you over. 

“I’ve got to go. My mami is waving me over.”

“Do you want to go on a hike together?” You both spoke at the same time. Blush creeping over both your cheeks. 

“A hike sounds good. I can give you my number and we can organise it?” 

“Yes!” He practically shouted, “I mean, yeah yeah that’s cool.” You swapped numbers before saying goodbye and running over to your mami and Tia’s. 

One look from Mapi meant that you’d talk about this later. Later when your mami and Olga were no where near.

It took a few days of talking and planning until you were able to settle on a day that would work. There was only one problem: your mami and Olga. Usually they were fine with you going to hang out with your friends but this was different. Or at least it felt different. 

You decided to pull someone into this and help the cover for you. Your first thought was Mapi and Ingrid, but Mapi had a big mouth and would tell your mami. Vicky was out, she too would accidentally let it slip, same with Patri and Claudia. The only option left was Alba. 

“You want me to lie to your mami?” 

“Well it’s technically not a lie because I will be with you, just not the entire time.” 

“Fine. But if she finds out, you owe me £50 and you tell her the truth about her missing shoes.” 

“Thank you thank you!” You hung up, rolling over and smiling like an idiot. Tomorrow you’d have your first date? Hang out alone with a cute boy? You weren’t sure what to call it but you were excited. 

When the time finally came everything was set in motion. Your mami and Olga thought you were spending the afternoon with Alba, but you were going to be with the boy you had a crush on. 

It felt like school drag on for you. Whenever you could spare a glance towards Juan, he was already looking at you. A love sick smile on his face. Your friends giggled about it at lunchtime and in between classes. 

At first, it was a little awkward. Between carrying your school bags and the hike itself, there wasn’t much talking. Once you got to the top, Juan stopped near a clearing, pulling out a blanket and a container of food. 

“I made us some afternoon tea.” The container was filled with chips, cookies, soft pretzels, some cut up strawberries and watermelon. 

“Did you make these?” You gestured towards the cookies and soft pretzels. 

“I did. I like to bake, sorry if they aren’t good-“ you leaned towards him, kissing his cheek and effectively shutting him up. 

The rest of the afternoon was filled with lots of laughs and getting to know each other. You’d never been on a date before, or really been around straight couples, but if your mami and mama felt this way about each other when they met, then you knew it was going to be good. 

The hike back down was a lot less awkward than before, when Juan reached for your hand to hold you let him. Smiling shyly up at him. You could see albas car a little up the path from where you had stopped. 

As you both awkwardly stood there, you took your chance. You stood up on your tippy toes and kissed him. He kissed back almost immediately and when you pulled away, you both had mirroring smiles. 

“I had a really good time today. Thank you for the afternoon tea.” 

“I did too. Can we do it again? maybe we can do out for dinner or something?” 

“Yes!” Alba car horn made you whip around, “text me? I gotta go.” You kissed him again then walked away, feeling a feeling that you’ve never felt before. 

Alba was sitting in the front seat of her car, having watched the whole thing, remembering helping your mami sneak off to go on a date with your mama. 

“So… how was it?” 

“It was fine. A nice hike, he made some afternoon tea, had my first kiss, talked about our hobbies, his football. You know the usual.” 

“YOUR FIRST KISS!?” Alba screamed. “How was it?”

“It was good. Really good. Better than I imagined.” 

“This calls for ice cream.”

“Mami is going to be annoyed.” 

“Who cares.” 

Your mami was in fact annoyed. Going on and on about alba spoiling your dinner and how you both knew that you weren’t allowed ice cream so close to dinner but you didn’t care. All you could think about was your first kiss with Juan and how he continued to text you even though apart of you thought he wouldn’t. 

For the next few weeks you and Juan continued your secret dates. Sometimes it would be just as simple as watching him at football training, or going for a run together. Olga had noticed something was up, you generally weren’t the typical phone always in hand teenager but over the last few weeks you had been. That and the love sick smile on your face whenever you looked at your phone. 

“I think Mari has a boyfriend or girlfriend.” It was said in the safety of their bedroom. The house was quiet, both you and Rio were asleep. 

“Oh?” Alexia put down her iPad, “what makes you think that?” 

“She’s always on her phone now, smiling at it. She’s also spending a lot of time with Alba.” 

“She’s always been close to Alba.”

“I know, but this feels different.” 

“Okay, how about I ask Alba since she can’t lie to me, and you ask Mari?”

“Okay.” 

They talked a little more to make the plan fool proof. Alexia would corner Alba, a short time after Olga cornered you. Olga would report back to alexia and alexia would use that to get the truth out. 

But it wasn’t that easy. While you had been spending time with Alba, you’d managed to finally rope in a Vicky and Pina. At first they were hesitant, neither could lie to your mami if they interrogated her but you promised it wouldn’t come to that. Alba didn’t know exactly how much time you were spending with Juan and that you had gotten two more people in on it. 

When Juan asked you to be his girlfriend officially you were over the moon. You’d lied yet again about where you were and who you were with. This time, you were alone in his room. His parents were still at work and one thing led to another. You left his house that afternoon with an ache between your legs and a smile on your face. You had a boyfriend. You were happy and you had entered a new stage of your life. 

It had taken a week for Olga to be able to effectively corner you. It was your time for one on one time with her, this week was a 10km run followed by a swim at the beach, then brunch. 

“Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Olga had completely disregarded the plan her and alexia had, wanting to get straight to this point. 

“Yes.” 

Olga’s head turned around so fast you’re surprised it didn’t snap off. “You haven’t said anything? How long?” 

“I don’t know. Couple of months.” 

“You’ve been using alba to cover for you?” 

“Alba, Vicky and pina. Only a few times a week.” 

“Why?” 

“Mami is… overbearing. She’s Alexia Putellas for Christ sake.” 

“She’s protective. Only wants the best for you, we both do. Have you told your mama?” 

“No. Only alba, Vicky and Claudia plus my friends at school. I guess you too now.” 

“You need to tell her.”

“I know. I will.” 

It wasn’t spoken about for the rest of the day, Olga never did message Alexia so she couldn’t interrogate Alba. You were stewing away trying to figure out how to tell her. You wanted it to be at home, somewhere she was calm knowing that she would freak out. 

But it didn’t work out like that. On sundays you’d always go to your Abuela’s for dinner. No matter what, everyone was there. It was something your Abuela had been incredibly strict on. 

Throughout the night, both Olga and Alba kept giving you looks. Alba had mentioned that something seemed different about you, but you shrugged her off. After Olga put Rio down in the portacot in the spare room, something inside you snapped. 

“I have a boyfriend and I had sex with him.” As soon as you realised what you blurted out, you covered your mouth. 

The sound of cutlery hitting the plates seemed like the loudest thing in the world. 

“What did you just say.” Your mami asked, you were pretty sure she heard and the vein popping out of her neck confirmed it. 

“Ale-“ Olga started. 

“No! Repeat what you just said!”

“I have a boyfriend, his name is Juan. He plays football, he’s really great mami.” 

“I didn’t ask his name y/n. I didn’t ask if he was nice or what his hobbies were, I asked you to repeat yourself.” 

“I have a boyfriend and we had sex.”

Everyone watched on in horror as Alexia slammed her fist on the table, “you’re 15! A child. You’re child who should not be doing that!” 

“You had sex with mama when you were 16.” Something inside of you wanted to fight back, to stand up for yourself. “The only difference is Juan is a boy and mama is a girl. Alba had sex at-“ 

“Enough! I cannot believe you would be so irresponsible, so reckless. Is that why you made Alba lie for you?” Her voice was getting louder and louder. Olga was silently worried that Rio would wake up. 

“How would you know if I was reckless? All you’ve done is yell at me. I didn’t make Alba do anything! She is an adult!” You matched her volume, yelling back. 

And right on que, Rio woke up. The scrapping of Olga’s chair and his screams snapped you both out of it. 

“Get in the car. Do not say another word.” Your mami was seething. There’s only one other time you’d seen her like this, it was when you were being bullied at your old school but this time, her anger was directed at you. 

You didn’t even bother saying goodbye to your Abuela or to Alba, slamming both the front door and the car door as you sat down. 

Your mami spent the entire car ride trying not to blow up at you, you could tell by the way her hands gripped the wheel and her posture was stiff. Occasionally Olga would turn back and give you a sympathetic look, she didn’t know for a fact that you and Juan had sex but she could’ve guessed it. To your mami, you were the shy, scared four year old even if you were the opposite at 15. 

As soon as the car was in the garage you made a move to get out, “don’t even think about it.” Your mami gritted through her teeth. You weren’t sure if she was going to punish you by making you sleep in the garage, or if she needed a quiet place to kill you. 

Olga got Rio out and made her way inside, deciding to ignore your mamis demand you got out of the car. You were full of emotions, you were mad at your mami for the way she was acting, you were sad she didn’t trust you but a part was also relieved that she knew. 

“Give me you phone, laptop, iPad. Hell any device you can message on, I want on my bed in the next 2 minutes.” 

“Mami that’s not-“

“2 minutes.” She stormed off down the hall, no doubt to message your mama and ask for her help in this matter or maybe she was going to google ‘how to deal with your child having sex.’ 

You knew that trying to fight her on this wouldn’t end well so you begrudgingly gathered up your devices. Apart of you was going to make this difficult for her, if you couldn’t have you laptop you couldn’t do school work, then she’d get a call from your teacher but that would be her fault not yours. Same with your phone, she wouldn’t know where you were or what you were doing. The convenience would be turned into an inconvenience. 

“You’re not to go anywhere after school. I will drop you off and I will pick you up. No phone, laptop, iPad, anything. You will come home, do you homework and chores and stare at a wall. I do not want you talking to that boy. I will book an appointment with a gynaecologist and we will go. There is no discussing this.” She didn’t even look at you. The disappointment was radiating off her. 

“You and mama were the same age as me. I don’t see the big deal in this.” 

“That’s exactly the problem, you don’t see the big deal in this. You’re a child y/n, you’re not some adult who gets to frolick around. I thought you knew better than this, I’m dis-“

“If you’re so ashamed of me then I’ll go live with mama! You won’t have be repulsed every time you look at me!” 

“Fine! Go live with your mama! Go right ahead, move to Mexico, say goodbye to your little boyfriend and your friends. You think you’re so grown so go ahead.” You knew she didn’t mean it because she had fought hard to keep you in Spain, more than once. 

“I hate you!” You screamed at her as you slammed the door closed. Throwing yourself onto your bed and screaming into your pillow. 

While laying there crying, you were trying to make up a plan in what to do. Flying to Mexico was out of the question, you needed your phone and passport, both which your mama had. Running away was an option that you were on the fence about. You could hide, but that would be unfair to Olga and your other family. 

Over the next few days you refused to talk to you mami, not that it really mattered since she wasn’t talking to you. Olga could tell you were mad and sad about the entire thing. There was no part of her that was disappointed or mad at you, it was a natural thing to do. Teenagers have sex, she had sex as a teenager, both or mami and mama too. 

She kept her word, dropping you off at the gate everyday and picking you up. The only way to talk to your friends and Juan was at school. It was annoying for everyone. 

Usually, your mama would take you straight home, cancelling her appointments that she usually had in the afternoons, today however was different. All week she was grumbling to Olga about how the club was making her go to the La Masia trials, the same trials that Juan had been talking about all week. It never clicked until you pulled up. 

“Why are we here?” “Trials. Don’t embarrass me.” She barely looked at you and got out. It was slowly getting to you. Your mami was your best friend and now she was treating you like shit. 

The first hour was spent standing around, staring at the grass as your mami spoke to all the coaches. It wasn’t until 15 minutes before the trials began that you saw Juan and his family. His mami and papa and little sister were always at his trainings and games, showing support whenever they could. 

After an hour it all came crashing down. You didn’t realise it at the time, but when you went over to say hello to Juan and his family, your mami was watching. She realised right away who the boy was and made a mental note of it. You had gone off to the bathroom, finally allowed to be alone after having your mami breathing down your neck. 

Panic arose in you when you saw your mami and Juan’s parents talking. With her scowl on her face, you knew it wasn’t a friendly conversation. 

“Our children seem to be dating, we need to set some boundaries. If the children, because thats what they are, are at either houses I need there to be adult supervision and for the bedroom doors to stay open.” Your mami crossed her arms, looking over as you walked towards them. 

“I agree, y/n is only ever allowed over when one of us is home.” Juan’s father, Jorge said. 

“Well if thats the case then they wouldn’t have been able to have sex would they?” “Excuse me?” His mama, Isabel got defensive , “they have never been home alone, they go out after school alone, but never ever have they been home alone.” Jorge had removed himself from the conversation, walking over to Juan and pulling him by his jersey to his mama. 

“Ms Putellas has just told us that you and y/n have had sex? You are never home alone so this isn’t true is it?”

Both you and Juan stood there in silence, knowing that whatever the answer you’ll both be in trouble. “You were asked a question, answer it.”

“Yes we had sex. Tia was on the phone to her boyfriend and so we were in my room with the door closed.“ “Juan! Not only have you disrespected our family, our rules, but you also disrespected the Putellas family. Go get in the car, you’re done today.” Juan looked like he was about to cry at his papas words. You knew that if he left early, he wouldn’t be counted in the trial and his dream to join Barcelona would have to wait another year. 

As he walked off, not even sparing you a glance, you could feel the tears slipping out of your eyes. The drive home was quiet, you sat there staring out the window crying silently. The coming days would be horrible, you just had that feeling. 

And boy were you right. For three days, Juan ignored you until it got too much and you cornered him in the locker room as PDHPE finished. 

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“Im not” he continued to pack his bag. 

“You’re lying to me. Why?”

“My parents said it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore.” He said it with the coldest voice, no emotions at all.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes. I need to focus on school and on football.” “I thought you loved me?”

“Love doesn’t matter y/n. I need to go, my papa will be waiting.” 

He left you standing there, crying in the middle of the boys locker room. Your heart had just been broken by the first boy you loved. So you did what you did best, you ran. You didn’t even take your school bag with you, or bother to tell you mami or friends. You just ran and ran until your tears were mixed with sweat and your chest hurt. 

Albas house is where you ended up and luckily she was actually home when you pounded on the door. She took you in no questions asked. Holding you sweaty gross body close to hers as you cried into her. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, a mix of exhaustion from crying so hard and running all the way there. 

When you did wake up, there were voices talking around you, you could feel a hand running through your hair. You tensed up at the thought of your mami being here. 

“Relax mari, its just me.” Olgas voice calmed your ears. “Are you ready to go home?” She asked softly.

“Yeah I guess.” You got up, hugging alba goodbye and thanking her, then followed Olga down to her car. Neither of you spoke, but she did give you a small sympathetic smile and squeezed your shoulder. 

You knew it was bad when you walked in the front door and Olga didn’t even greet your mami. To be the cause of their fight made you feel incredibly anxious. Olga followed you into your room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you made yourself comfortable.

“Can you tell me what happened?” You nodded and told the entire story. How everyday you and Juan would spend all the breaks together, how your mami acted insane today at the football trial and how Juan broke your heart and didn’t even care. 

On the inside, Olga was seething. She had already gone off at Alexia multiple times about this whole thing, and for Alexia to go behind her back and break a promise, made her see red. 

For two days, Olga let you stay home with her and Rio. Your mami wasn’t told, Olga just said she was talking you to school. For two days, you got to lay in bed and sulk. Feel whatever you needed to feel and then you decided that was enough. You weren’t going to let a boy ruin the rest of your high school experience. 

And so the next day you got up, scrubbed your entire body and put on a brave face. The kids at school whispered as they saw both you and Juan ignore each other, your friends groups stayed separate and the girls refused to talk to the boys. 

All that was left to face was your mami. Your mama, Olga, abuela and alba had all torn into her. She overreacted and ruined a relationship.

“Mari, can we talk for a moment?” Your mami asked as she stood in the doorway to your room. 

“Depends, are you going to yell at me or tell me I’m a disappointment again?

“No. That was a mistake. I should never have said those things to you because you aren’t a disappoint, you’re strong, brave, and the perfect child.” She walked over to your desk chair, sitting down. “I had never imagined you having a boyfriend or having sex. In my head, you were still our little baby, not someone who is going to be an adult in three short years.”

“Mami-“

“No please let me finish otherwise Olga might kill me.” You both laughed, knowing that Olga was probably waiting in bed for this conversation to end. “Your mama and I had sex when I was 16, alba had sex when she was 15. The difference being, I didn’t have a pregnancy scare but Alba did. She didn’t tell abuela, and I carried that secret for years, so when you said you had sex all I could imagine was a 15 year old Alba crying in my apartment.”

“I understand, but I promise we used a condom. It was only one time and it wont happen again because he broke up with me.”

Your mami frowned, then her eyes went wide, “he broke up with you because of me?”

“Yeah.”

“I am so so sorry. If I could go back in time I would.”

“No mami, its fine. He obviously wasn’t worth it but if you do it to the next person I probably wont be so forgiving.”

Your mami laid down with her, letting you snuggle into her. For now your relationship Ould be strained and maybe it wouldn’t ever be as good as it once was but for now it was fixed. 

[bu3ck3r]

nothing feels better

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: pazzi being all cute with each other

a/n: this is my very first fic so lmk if you like it and if yes i wouldn’t mind any suggestions for some next ones😭

Paige Bueckers knew she was in trouble the first time she saw Azzi Fudd shoot a three-pointer in person. Not because Azzi was a rival—no, that would have been easier. Paige could handle rivalries, she thrived on competition. But this? This was different. This was her heart skipping a beat as the ball arced perfectly through the air and swished through the net like it was drawn there by fate. This was trouble.

By the time Azzi committed to UConn, Paige had long since accepted that she was smitten. Of course, she'd never admit it outright. She had a reputation to uphold, after all—witty, confident, the undisputed queen of teasing. She and Azzi had developed a playful, competitive friendship over the years, always pushing each other to be better, always one-upping each other in any way possible. It just so happened that along the way, somewhere between the trash talk and the late-night gym sessions, Paige had fallen hard.

The first few months at UConn were a whirlwind. Practices were brutal, classes were exhausting, and the spotlight was ever-present. But through it all, Paige and Azzi had each other. Whether it was studying in the library late at night or sneaking snacks into the film room, they became inseparable. And then, one chilly November evening, something shifted.

They were the last two left in the gym, as usual. Paige was sprawled on the hardwood, catching her breath after another round of shooting drills. Azzi stood over her, hands on her hips, a smirk playing at her lips.

"Giving up already, Bueckers?"

Paige groaned, dramatically rolling onto her side. "You see, Fudd, some of us have already perfected our game. We don’t need to spend all night proving we’re better than everyone else."

Azzi snorted, nudging Paige’s shoulder with her foot. "Please. You just don’t want me to outshoot you."

Paige propped herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow. "Outshoot me? You?"

"Yeah. Me." Azzi crossed her arms, tilting her head. "One round. Loser buys the winner ice cream."

Paige grinned. "Oh, you’re on."

She should have known better. Should have known that Azzi, when determined, was nearly impossible to beat. Shot after shot, they matched each other, neither willing to back down. It wasn’t until Paige’s last attempt bounced off the rim that Azzi let out a victorious laugh, hands in the air.

"Looks like I’ll have some cookies with my ice cream, thank you very much."

Paige groaned again, but this time she was smiling. "Yeah, yeah. You just got lucky."

Azzi dropped down beside her, still grinning. "Or maybe I’m just better."

Paige nudged her knee against Azzi’s. "Debatable."

There was a moment—quiet, warm, despite the cool air of the gym. Azzi’s smirk softened, and for the first time, Paige let herself admit it. This wasn’t just a friendship built on competition. This was something more.

From that night on, things changed in subtle ways. They still teased, still competed, but there were lingering glances, soft smiles exchanged across the court. Paige found herself noticing the little things—how Azzi tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, how she hummed under her breath while tying her shoes. And, apparently, Azzi noticed things about Paige too.

"You chew on your lip when you’re thinking too hard," Azzi pointed out one afternoon while they were watching game film.

Paige blinked. "I do not."

"You do." Azzi smirked. "It’s cute."

Paige nearly choked on her water bottle.

Their teammates caught on pretty quickly. KK Arnold was the first to say something, leaning against the lockers one day with a knowing smirk.

"So, when are you two gonna stop pretending you’re just ‘best friends’?"

Paige scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

KK rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. The heart eyes? The ridiculous amount of time you spend together? The fact that you two practically have your own language?"

Azzi, who had been tying her sneakers, muttered, "We do not."

"Oh really?" KK mimicked their back-and-forth banter perfectly, down to the teasing tones and the way they always countered each other’s points. Paige and Azzi exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter.

"Okay, fine," Paige admitted. "Maybe we’re… close."

"Close," KK repeated dryly. "Right."

It took another month before Paige finally worked up the nerve to do something about it. They were walking back to their dorm after a late practice, the campus quiet around them. Azzi was talking about something—maybe a new shooting drill, maybe a class she liked—but Paige wasn’t really listening. She was too focused on the way Azzi’s hand brushed against hers as they walked.

So she stopped walking.

Azzi turned, confused. "What—"

And then Paige kissed her.

It was soft, unsure for half a second before Azzi melted into it, her hands gripping Paige’s hoodie to pull her closer. When they finally broke apart, Azzi let out a breathless laugh.

"Took you long enough."

Paige grinned, her forehead resting against Azzi’s. "Yeah, yeah. I was just giving you time to catch up."

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t let go. "Debatable."

From then on, they were inseparable in a new way. They still competed, still pushed each other, but now there were soft kisses after wins and comforting hugs after tough losses. There were whispered good lucks before tip-off and celebrations that turned into tangled limbs and laughter in their dorm. There were stolen glances during team meetings, fingers laced together under the table, and endless teasing from their teammates.

"Y’all are disgusting," KK announced one day after catching them sharing a look across the court.

Paige smirked. "Jealous?"

"Absolutely not."

Azzi just laughed, squeezing Paige’s hand. "She’s totally jealous."

And so it went—two competitors, two teammates, two people who had found something special in each other, on and off the court. Because as much as they loved winning, nothing felt quite as good as loving each other.

[halsteadlover]

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @dandelionfairyyy: Where Jay and reader accidentally hook up, but happen to need to work together so he tries to talk with her about what happened, but she just wants to avoid and forget it. That turns out into a fight, until it bursts out of her like “I am terrified you’ll say it was a one time thing!” With lots of fluff in the end?

• Warnings: curse words, sex (there are just few scenes in the flashback but they are descriptive so READ ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+) and I don’t know what else honestly let me know if I missed any lol

• Word count: 3995.

• A/N: I don’t know what to think about this one to be fair 😭 I hope you’ll like it please give em your feedback if you want! I’m trying to get back to writing so I hope to post as many fics as possible. Love you all ❤️

The sun’s rays hit your eyes through the window’s cracks, making you blink several times.

You looked around.

The unfamiliar ceiling made your senses go on high alert, momentarily disoriented and confused about where you were. You sat up in bed, a single sheet covering your naked body and that was enough to bring back all the memories of last night like a raging river.

You froze, afraid to make any kind of movement or even to turn your gaze to the person lying on that bed next to you. But you didn’t need to see that figure lying with his back to you, also naked.

How the hell did that happen?

How did you end up in bed with Jay Halstead?

Memories after memories of the previous night continued to play over and over in your mind. It was a mess, a complete mess but it was the most beautiful night of your life.

You tried not to cry.

How could you go on after this? How could you work with him and pretend like nothing happened? Pretend you weren’t madly in love with your coworker who you happened to have sex with?

You turned to Jay, noticing with relief he was still asleep, since you weren’t able to face him especially at that moment.

A smile appeared on your lips even though you couldn’t see him as you tried to suppress the desire to get closer to him, to caress his hair, leave kisses on his face, to hug him like you always wanted.

For a moment, a single moment, you let yourself wander in the illusion you two were a couple. That he’d soon wake up and pull you into his arms, preventing you from moving and going anywhere, that eventually you’d get out of bed and make breakfast together, you only wearing one of his shirts, and then getting ready and go to work together.

You let out a sigh and got out of bed, still sore and trying to be as quiet as possible. You quickly got dressed and you casted one last glance at the man who had made you lose your mind so much before leaving, not knowing if you’d ever be able to have this sight again.

That night had changed everything.

You didn’t know how you’d manage to keep your feelings at bay from now on, especially since you two worked together and you couldn’t avoid him forever.

You always had feelings for Jay, ever since you had joined the team. You had established a deep relationship from the beginning and, given the nature of your work, you found yourselves working together very often and very close. This had led you to often confiding in each other, spending time together, to establish a friendship that inevitably on your part had transformed into something else.

You never had the courage to confess your love, not wanting to risk losing your beautiful friendship. It was important to you, he was one of the most important people of your life, so you did nothing but look at him from afar and imagine a future with him that would never happen.

You immediately dove into work as soon as you arrived at the Unit, trying to keep your mind occupied and not think about Jay and the amazing night you had.

“I want you so fucking much,” he whispered as his lips captured yours in a breathtaking kiss. His arms wrapped around your hips, pulling you as close to his body as possible while your hands were in his hair.

His tongue explored every inch of your mouth as your lips moved in sync, as if this was always meant to be. He pushed you against the wall as his hands roamed every inch of your body he could reach, hungry, longing to touch your skin.

“Oh my god Jay please…” you sighed with pleasure when his lips moved to your neck, making you arch your back as he started sucking and nibbling on a particular spot that was making you lose your mind.

“Yeah baby, I can’t wait to hear you scream for me…”

“Y/n!”.

Kim’s voice brought you back to reality, making you wake up from the memories of the previous night that were haunting your mind.

How could you move on from that? How could you work when everything reminded you of him?

“Huh? What?”.

“I asked you if you wanted coffee?” Kim asked again with an amused tone. “What has you so lost in your thoughts today?”

If only you knew, Kim.

You tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, not wanting to give away any clues as to what had happened. The last thing you needed was for the rest of the team to find out you and Jay had sex, since they already didn’t give you a break.

“You two should be together, I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”

“You look so cute together such a beautiful couple!”

“How can you say there’s nothing between you and Jay? Have you seen the way that man looks at you? Or the way you look at him? C’mon.”

And this happened almost everyday. Single. Day. And imagine being in love with your coworker and hearing your other coworkers saying this. Let’s just say it wasn’t helpful at all.

You nodded, smiling. “Thanks.”

You got up and went to the break room with her, where you chatted for a bit waiting for the rest of the team to arrive.

When Jay arrived at the Intelligence, a look of disappointment crossed his features as he noticed your jacket hanging on your chair, meaning you were already there.

He couldn’t help but be disappointed and confused, not expecting to not find you the morning after you had sex. He couldn’t suppress the feeling of anxiety that gripped his stomach, having no idea how you’d react and what to expect.

Were you going to pretend nothing happened? Or tell him not to talk to you ever again?

The thought immediately broke his heart and made his insides tighten even more. He didn’t deny what had happened, it had been nothing short of the best night of his life.

He went to the break room, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat as he saw you sipping your coffee and talking to Kim in the meantime. The air suddenly became heavier, almost suffocating as you both pretended the other didn’t exist if it wasn’t for the initial glance you had thrown at each other.

A tight feeling in your stomach made you almost drop the cup from your hands when your eyes fell on him. He was as beautiful as the sun, dressed all in black with a sweater that fit him perfectly and showed off his muscles and a pair of black jeans that fit perfectly around his hips and along his slender legs. Once again, the memory of all the moments spent with him the night before invaded your mind.

Kim was the first to speak to him. “Good morning Jay. There’s some coffee left if you want.”

You used every fiber of your body to divert your attention from him, taking a sip of coffee as you felt your cheeks heat up and get redder with every second that passed.

You were nervous.

You didn’t know how to act and you hated it, you hated not knowing what to do especially with Jay, with one of the closest people to you, the person you were secretly in love with.

But you were just afraid that after sex he’d end it, you were afraid of losing him and your friendship. Because as much as it hurt to just look at him from afar, you would’ve preferred a life of just friendship than not having him in your life at all.

“Oh yeah thanks, I need it after last night,” he replied in a calm tone and hid a smirk when he saw you cough as you choked on your coffee.

Asshole.

Kim chuckled, pouring some coffee into a clean cup and then handing it to Jay, who continued to look at you sideways waiting to get your attention.

“What happened last night?” she asked curiously.

Jay shrugged. “I just didn’t get much sleep,” he replied, skipping over the part where you’d spent most of the night fucking.

“I’m going to finish the case report from yesterday,” you said before putting your cup down and walking out of the break room, suddenly feeling suffocated by Jay’s presence. You knew Kim immediately understood something happened, you blatantly gave it away but you didn’t care, you just wanted to get away.

Your eyes met Jay’s for a second, just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to send shivers down your spine and make your stomach twist in a knot.

You let out a sigh and headed towards the bathroom in an attempt to calm yourself down.

As you placed your hands on the sink, you took a few deep breaths. You hadn’t even spoken to him and he’d left you in a whirlwind of emotions you didn’t know which one to listen to first.

The previous night kept replay in your mind over and over again, and you couldn’t help but think how much everything had changed in the span of not even 24 hours.

You couldn’t look at him like he meant nothing, you couldn’t pretend you weren’t crazy in love with him, that just seeing him didn’t make your knees weak and heart race.

You were sure of your feelings but you weren’t sure of his. What did he think? How did he feel?

You didn’t have a chance to talk and it was killing you. Not knowing. The truth, though, was that you were terrified of talking to him. You knew you had to but the possibility of hearing he didn’t feel anything for you besides physical attraction and what had happened between you was only sex, paralyzed you.

You rinsed your face with some cold water before drying yourself with a paper towel, throwing it in the trash. Your breath caught in your throat when you exited the bathroom and your eyes met those green ones you were so obsessed about.

He was looking at you so intensely as if he wanted to read your mind and soul.

“Why are you avoiding me Y/n?” His voice was a mix of amusement and resentment and your stomach dropped at least ten stories.

You looked down at your shoes for a moment before looking at him again. “I’m not, why should I?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” he began, taking a step toward you. You took one back in return. “Maybe because you ran away before I woke up or the fact you haven’t even looked at me since I got here. You didn’t even say good morning.”

“I’m sorry Jay, I’m just busy and Voight will have my head if I don’t finish those case reports in time.”

He took another step forward and you took another step back, until your back hit the wall and there was no way you could run away.

“I don’t give a fuck about those reports,” he spoke and despite his low voice his words ran through your body like a knife. And the way his scent hit you fully didn’t help either.

God, I want him so much.

Jay was so close to you, you had to slowly tilt your head back to look at him. Anyone passing by would’ve seen you but it didn’t seem to matter to him, his attention focused solely on you as his eyes scanned every inch of your face.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, you tried to control your breathing but it was no use, Jay’s presence was too much for you to even form a coherent thought.

“Jay, someone can see us.”

“Why did you leave?” He pressed on, completely ignoring your words. His gaze kept roaming over your face, occasionally lingering on your lips, and it was enough to make your knees weak.

“Why do you care?”

“Excuse me?” He furrowed his brows, looking at you as if you had said something blasphemous. “Why do I care? Are you serious? You’re the one avoiding me and you have the courage to ask me why do I care?”.

“Listen…” you took a deep breath and placed your hands on his chest to push him away, trying to ignore the fact that less than twenty-four hours ago your hands were on his bare chest as you rode him on his bed.

His hands palmed your breasts, squeezing them between, his fingers pinching your nipples as you kept riding his dick, letting him penetrate you so deeply, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful, you drive me crazy,” he panted, his expression twisted with pleasure as he looked at you with such intensity it almost made you falter. Your hands were resting on his chest as they helped you gain leverage, your nails pressed hard into his perfect skin.

“Oh my God yes like that… You’re gonna make me come so hard Jay.”

He moved his hands down from your breasts to your ass, squeezing and slapping it so hard the force made you lean forward. His hips moved with yours and his mouth took over yours, in a kiss that left you completely breathless.

The thought alone made you blush and you prayed he wouldn’t notice but from the way he was smirking, you knew he caught you.

You immediately removed your hands, as if you were burned. “We have a job to do okay? We’ll talk later.” You continued before walking away and leaving him standing there, without giving him a chance to reply.

You knew you were being immature. A grown-up would’ve faced it, damn it everyone has sex, but you weren’t ready to hear Jay say it had been a mistake, that last night would never happen again.

The whole day went like this, you looking for any excuse to avoid Jay and him trying to push you at every possible moment. Luckily, a case had come up so you managed to keep yourself busy for most of the day and, above all, stayed away from him.

Despite this, however, he was always there. His eyes were always on you, you felt them whenever you were, trying to read inside you, you felt them on you every time you moved. His presence—even though he was far away from you—was overwhelming, filling every single space and inch of your mind.

You thought you had managed to avoid him for the day but when—shortly after you got home—you heard your doorbell ring, you immediately realized you’d claimed victory too soon.

Before you even looked through your peephole, you knew it was Jay and a pang gripped your stomach when you saw him through the peephole, still in his work clothes exactly like you, handsome and breathtaking as always.

You sighed deeply, knowing it’d be no use avoiding the inevitable. You had to be an adult and deal with what was coming your way.

You opened the door, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that was so loud you could almost feel it leaping out of your chest. Jay’s eyes traveled down your body before landing on yours.

“Are you done avoiding me like the plague?” he asked sarcastically but with a less than happy expression.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you lied through your teeth and he snorted loudly before rolling his eyes and making his way into your house, not even waiting for your invitation.

I guess we really need to talk and he’s not leaving until we do.

“Y/n I’m getting tired of this game,” he snapped, the neutrality of his features now gone, giving way to anger. “You want to tell me what the hell is wrong with you?”

You sighed and closed the door behind you before walking towards the living room, him following you. “I’m sorry… It’s just…” You took a deep breath again, trying to gather all your thoughts.

“It’s just what? You regret it? You could’ve said that instead of acting like a child and avoiding me!” His voice slightly rose, his breathing quickening. “I’ve lost my mind all day trying to find an answer for your behavior! I—I thought we had a good time…”

“I did have a great time Jay oh my god… And of course I don’t regret it! How could I?! I just needed time to think!”

“Think about what? For fuck’s sake Y/n it’s me! I’m not a stranger you know you can talk to me about everything!”.

“I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, damn it!” You raised your voice too. “I was scared!”

“Speak up then! For fuck’s sake stop saying these half-assed sentences, you’re driving me crazy!” He went completely nuts, hands waving in the air as he let out all the frustration he was holding in. “Scared of what?! What the hell were you thinking about?!”

“Scared you’d tell me it was just a one time thing!”

Jay’s expression quickly changed to one of confusion and then pure shock.

“I didn’t want to face you because I was afraid it meant nothing to you… Shit, Jay… I wasn’t ready to hear you say it was just sex or… Or a mistake.”

At that point you were a raging river, uncontrollable. You couldn’t control your thoughts and the flow of words that were coming out of your mouth. “Because it wasn’t just sex for me. Fuck, I’m in love with you Jay, I’ve been for years, but I… I don’t want to get hurt and I know that would’ve happened if we had talked, that’s why I was avoiding you. I’m so sorry for how I acted but I… I’m just scared shitless of losing you and I’m not ready for—”

You suddenly stopped talking when he grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours.

You froze for a moment, in disbelief of what was happening. You would’ve expected anything, shit you were already preparing yourself for the humiliation you’d feel hearing him say he didn’t feel the same for you, but this… This was beyond your imagination.

It was everything you hoped for, everything you desired.

You wrapped your arms around his chest, pressing your fingers into his back in an attempt to pull him closer. Your lips moved spontaneously against his, mimicking the same hunger, longing and frustration. It was messy, desperate, a kiss full of the words and unspoken feelings.

He slightly groaned against your mouth, as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life, deepening the kiss more and more. His slightly trembling fingers continued to cup your face, tilting your head for a better angle. There were no words to describe what you felt in that moment—that moment with him. Him, who tasted like coffee, like something warm and addictive, like the flavor that made you lose your mind and forget all sense of reason.

It was intoxicating. Him, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, with so much passion and voracity as if he wanted to express what he had not been able to say with words.

When you finally pulled away, Jay rested his forehead on yours, close enough to brush your lips with his again. “Please don’t cry baby,” he whispered, pulling away from you just enough to wipe your tears with his thumbs. You were so emotional you hadn’t even realized it. “I can’t stand it, I don’t want to see you like this, especially because there’s no reason to.” He pressed another kiss to your lips, resting his forehead on yours again. “It wasn’t a mistake, I never thought that for a second,” he continued as his breath tickled your lips. “And it sure as hell wasn’t just a one time thing.”

You slightly pulled your head back, just enough to look into his eyes and you noticed the way his green irises almost obscured by his dilated pupils.

God, he was so breathtaking.

Your heart tightened in your chest. “But… But you—” you stammered like a complete idiot. “You never said anything.”

“Do I have to remind you you were the one avoiding me?” he replied sarcastically. “But to answer your unspoken question, I didn’t do it before because I was scared too. I had no idea how you felt and I was terrified of losing you. You mean everything to me, more than you realize. And the thought of messing this up, of ruining us—” He shook his head, letting out a small, breathless laugh. “I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk you. But if I had known—if I had even guessed you felt the same way—I never would’ve wasted so much time baby.”

You opened your mouth to talk but nothing came out. Your brain was short circuiting, you weren’t able to form a single coherent thought.

Was this really happening? Or was it just a hallucination? It had to be the latter, you must’ve been hit your head.

He chuckled at your reaction before pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering a few seconds longer than necessary, before kissing your nose. “You ruined me,” he whispered before kissing your lips again. He kissed you more slowly this time, with a gentleness that almost made your legs give out.

He kissed you as if it was his first breath of air after so much time underwater, as if you were his lifeline. He held you as if he was truly afraid you’d walk away, his lips moving against yours in a sensual dance that neither of you wanted to end.

His fingers tangled in your hair—while his other hand gripped your jaw—and he pulled your head slightly, tilting it just right and you almost fainted. God, the way that man made you lose your mind, how crazy he drove you, it was something you’ve never experienced in your life.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless, your lips still tingling and longing for his. He looked at you for a moment, with so much intensity and so much adoration you would’ve paid an organ to always see that look in his eyes.

“God…” he whispered as his fingers caressed your face. “I love you.”

Your heart stopped beating for a moment.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, completely in shock. “Huh? What?”

He laughed, and he was so unbelievably and unfairly beautiful it hurt. His thumb continued to caress the side of your jaw, firm but gentle at the same time. “I love you, I’m in love with you. Quite for a while now.”

Something inside you bursts—a relief so overwhelming you could cry. Instead, you laughed—bright, breathless, disbelieving. “I—You… Holy shit… You love me? You?” You pointed your finger at his chest. “Love me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he chuckled, grinning from ear to ear. “I love you. And, man, it’s such a relief to finally say it.”

You barely gave him time to breathe before you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again, like your life depended on it. He stumbled back with a startled laugh but caught you easily, holding you tight against him as if he’d never meant to let you go.

When you broke apart, you pressed your forehead to his, making him smile so softly it made your chest ache.

“So,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours, “Can we finally stop this avoiding crap? We have a lot of time to make up for.”

You giggled, eyes shining from tears as you nodded your head. “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Jay smiled, then kissed you again and again—slow, sweet, like you had all the time in the world.

And for once, you let yourself believe in happy endings.

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[nodoubtily]

okay wait I just requested jealous jungwon smut but how abt the reader having a huge crush on him n shit n he knows abt it but doesn’t act on it until he sees someone else tryna go after reader 😫 IK THIS IS BASIC BUT PLSSS

OHHHH YEAH

Warnings : smut so MDNI, possessive Jungwon, underage drinking, slight choking, teasing, dirty usage of language. Lmk if I missed anything! Not proofread!

Jungwon who froze when you first confessed, albeit accidentally, but nevertheless.

Jungwon who watched you cut through different corridors to avoid him, preventing an awkward moment.

Jungwon who chooses to just carry on about his day. Clearly you were trying to move on, and it’s best for him to stay out of your way.

“Come on, Won. Just talk to her.” Jay had said one afternoon at Jungwon’s house. “She’s literally ignoring me.” Jungwon reasoned.

Jungwon who feels a weird feeling growing in his stomach as he sees you grow a little closer with Sunoo.

Jungwon who can’t help but feel jealous as he watches Sunoo lean in close to you, whispering something you find funny for some stupid fucking reason, sulking when you playfully slap Sunoo’s arms.

Jungwon who boils over at Jake’s party, mentally snapping as he sees Sunoo and you talking in the hallway, faces close.

Jungwon who grabs your wrist, leading you to the bathroom located in the other side of the house.

written:

“Jungwon..” you say quietly, attempting to ignore the growing butterflies in your abdomen. “What are you do—“

“I can’t stand this.” He says reputedly. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, which you catch on. Your fingers reach to your bottom lip, and you can’t help but feel a little sad.

“What do you mean?” You ask, voice shaky. His whole being brings you different emotions; the air around you thick with the tension.

The tension that has only built up since that dreadful moment you absolutely refuse to reminisce.

“I have only tried to make things less difficult for you..” his voice is low, menacing. It brings chills to your spine, though you can’t shake the feeling of your thighs clenching, all because of the way he’s looking at you, watching you. “And yet you decide to torture me.”

“How have I been torturing you?” Your voice is frustratingly shaking, and you can’t help it. Your hands tremble, and you resort to clenching your fingers around the rim of your skirt.

“Avoiding me…talking to my best friend, giggling at his jokes, slapping his arm. Absolute torture.” Your cheeks blush, you feel it. You feel the blood rushing to your face, sweat sticking to your skin, surrounding the air in such a tiny bathroom. “Do you enjoy messing with my brain?”

“You’re the one who rejected me—“

“I didn’t say anything. You caught me off guard. I didn’t get the chance to explain how I really felt. And then you moved on, and I’m stuck. Stuck imagining a future with you in it.” Jungwon cuts through your sentence, and you only flush more with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. And, I don’t like Sunoo like that.” You reassure, your knuckles turning whiter the longer they’re scrunched n your dress.

“Do you still like me? Do you still want me, the way that I, want you?” Jungwon edges forward, causing you to bump onto the sink. Your hands clutch the edge of the bench, leaning against it as your heart paces quicker.

“Yes.” You quiver.

“You still want me?” Jungwon’s voice is doing something to you. Your legs cross over, and your hips buck as you beg yourself for some kind of relief.

Jungwon takes notice to your growing sense of need, and his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. He towers over you, his eyes portraying a different side of him.

A side of him only you’ll ever get to see. A side that belongs to only you, just as how, you belong to only him.

“I want you, Y/N.” His voice is low, his hair wispy over his face. Your eyes follow along his face, and you’re in disbelief at the close proximity.

“You have me.” You say in the same low voice to, just above a whisper, but still ever so quiet.

That was all the reassurance Jungwon needed.

Without warning, his hands glide to your thighs, hoisting you above the counter with no hesitation. He whips around, reaching over to the door. You hear a click, signalling the fact he had locked the door. You were really alone now.

He leaves kisses along your neck, and your breath hitches when his lips find exactly where you’re sensitive the most: your pulse point. He leaves an open mouthed kiss there before working his way up to your lips, where he smashes his against yours, mushing them together as his hands find the sides of your face, yours grabbing his biceps with all the energy you can.

Your legs open wider, inviting him closer to your body as you cage him in, ankles looped around each other.

“Need you, Wonnie.” You sigh out in between the kiss. He pulls away, eyes trained o to yours, panting.

“How so?” He continues to nibble down your neck, hearing you pant like a needy dog.

You pull your hands away from his arms, dragging them lower between your legs, palming his growing erection through his pants. His breath hitches, and he groans, his head falling back slightly.

“I can’t wait.” His movements become more hurried, as he lifts your skirt to your hips, serving more as a belt then it’s proper use. His right hand comes into contact with your heat, his fingers swiping your panties away from your folds, gliding his index and centre finger along your slit, applying pressure to your clit.

Quiet gasps leave from your throat, and you rest your head against the mirror, mouth gaping when Jungwon slides his two fingers in, scissoring open your greedy hole.

“Feels good?” Jungwon asks you in your ear. You nod, earning a pinch on your thigh. “Words, or I stop.”

“Yes, feels so—“ a high pitched moan elicits from your puffy lips as a third finger is added, his thumb working finger eights on your clit. “Right fucking there—oh shit.” You succumb to the knot tightening when Jungwon’s fingers pad the spongy goodness deep inside your pussy.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungwon sighs, before sliding his fingers out. You whine at the loss, but Jungwon stares at you, silently telling you to wait.

His hands find his buttons to his jeans, and he tweaks around them before undoing the buttons and zip. He reaches into his boxers, fishing his unit out.

He drags his tip along your folds, teasing you. “You want it?” He asks you, eyes boring into yours, daring you to admit it.

“Yes—give it to me. Give it all to me, god, please.” You beg, hands squeezing your own thighs in desperation.

“Are you sure?” He continues, a sly smirk dancing on his tongue.

“Fuck, please! Jungwon, just fuck me. Fuck me stupid with your cock…please..” you’re shy, and Jungwon finds it cute.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He angles his tip right in front of your gaping pussy, sliding in slowly. Your hands find his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life as his big cock drives deeper inside you.

You both collectively let out a content sigh as Jungwon bottoms out, snug inside as he rests deep in your stomach.

His palm presses on the bulge, and you can’t help but whimper, thighs shaking. “Feel me? Feel me deep inside you?” His voice itself is shaky, control teetering to its edge. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Please…move. Come on, Wonnie.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. He maneuvers your hips to the edge of the bench, a new angle reaching him impossibly deeper as he slowly moves, bringing his hips back to the point his tip almost slips out, before slamming back inside.

“Fuck, baby. Taking my big dick so well.” Minute by minute, pieces of his resolve shatters, utterly losing himself within your wet, tight warmth, inviting him inside so deeply he can’t help but become vocal. His whines escape his mouth without much hesitation, and his head leans back in immense pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as his dick reaches further points you didn’t know even existed, and you feel so utterly full it’s overstimulating in the most delicious way possible.

“I love your pussy so much.” And you could tell, due to the quick pace his hips followed.

You lifted your legs, so your feet rested on the bench, completely open. Jungwon holds your calves, placing them on his shoulders as he pounds into you, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin prominent isn’t eh room, allowing whoever was outside the door to know what is really taking place in this bathroom.

“You’re so—big.” You find difficulty speaking, air short in your lungs as you experience jaw dropping sex.

“Fuck, you’re pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so tight and tight, like it was formed for my fucking cock.” His words bring you even closer to your long awaited orgasm, a tight ball forming in your abdomen. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

“You—fuck, it belongs to you.” You answer straight away, eyes fluttering shut as you feel yourself teetering to the edge of what will be a delicious climax. “I’m close.” You breathe out, desperation flooding you.

“Me too. Where do you want it?” Jungwon asks, referring to his fluid.

Your eyes open, and you stare into his soul when you say, “Inside. Cum inside and fuck a baby in me.”

Jungwon swears he could cum then and there. He only chuckles, hands coming to your throat, where he thrusts up to your g-spot, overstimulating the pleasure on your spongy goodness, dragging you super close to your orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect for me. Want me fucking babies? Turn you into a mama?” You clench hard against his thick shaft, and he groans. “You got so fucking tight—you want that? I bet you fucking do. You’re just my little fucking cumslut, aren’t you?”

“Your fucking cumslut. God, Jungwon. I’m about to cum.” You announce, and your arms loop around his neck, pulling him as close as possible as your legs wrap around his waist, keeping him right where he belongs. “Let me cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

One of his hands unwrap themselves from your throat, sneaking its way down to your neglected clit, and he aggressively rubs the fuck out of it, bringing you to your long awaited climax.

It feels as if your clit explodes, waves upon waves upon waves of pure ecstasy flow through your body, creating a tremble you can’t shake as your legs quiver on his shoulders, thighs shaking in sensitivity. Your mouth grows more hoarse as more and more moans escape from your chest, and your eyes squint closed as Jungwon rides out your orgasm, thrusting into you with no mercy.

“I‘m gonna cum. Deep—“ thrust. “Inside—“ thrust. “You’re fucking pussy.” He punctuates each word until he creams inside you, ejaculating his hot seed deep inside your womb, and he shoves his head into the crook of your neck as he rides his own orgasm, overseeing the sensitivity it brings you.

Heavy pants fill the comfortable silence, as you both catch your breaths.

“I meant what I said.” Jungwon is the first to speak.

“What, that my pussy was made for your cock?” You answer, watching as he shoves his softened dick back into his boxers, zipping and buttoning them back on properly.

“That, and, that I want you. And not just sexually. I want you romantically. I want you to be mine. To be mine to love, to admire and mine to fuck. I want you so bad, that I forget myself sometimes deep in though about you.”

“Jungwon, you’ve always had me. I’ve always been yours.”

“Are you officially mine?”

“If I can?” You answer his question with your own.

“Please.”

I SUCK BALLS AT ENDINGS

perm taglist : @jyikeu @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby

@17ericas

[ceilidho]

OC: Sigrid (Follow Me Home) Masterlist

A dog’s been loitering around the neighbourhood recently. 

Twice, Sigrid’s seen it trotting down the street, tongue hanging out of its mouth, and once she caught it sniffing a neighbour’s garbage can at the curb of their driveway. It’s a lanky, short-haired thing with a long snout and a chestnut brown coat, about the size of a labrador or some other medium sized dog if she had to guess—Sigrid’s not much of a dog person so she doesn’t know the breed off the top of her head. She’s not particularly curious about it either. 

She’s thought about calling animal control a few times, but something stops her every time she looks up the number. Maybe pity. Or uncertainty, wondering if what she’s seeing is actually a stray dog or just a neighbour’s dog that they let out to roam around, too lazy to walk it themselves. It’s not like she knows any of her neighbours particularly well.  

It doesn’t have a collar though, she notes the next time she looks out the front window and spots it lifting its leg to pee on the tree at the corner of her property. Her lips flatten into a thin line, a little perturbed at the thought of it peeing and excreting on her lawn. Guilt trickles in a bit later when she thinks about how it’s likely had to scavenge for food if no one else in the neighbourhood has started to feed it out of pity. She hasn’t noticed a lack of squirrels recently though, or any ripped open garbage bags on the sidewalk. 

Another part of her says that as uncomfortable as its presence has made her in recent days, she doesn’t want to be known as the girl who doesn’t like dogs. 

There’s a rotisserie chicken in her fridge that still has some meat on the bones. Sigrid stares at it the next time she opens the fridge for a snack. Better in a belly than in the trash. She might be able to get another meal out of it though—chicken salad or chicken pasta for lunch—and though her salary is half-decent, she’s never been one to waste food.

Besides, if she feeds it, it’s going to stick around a whole lot longer.

If she were chummier with the next door neighbour, she might ask him about the dog the next time they both dragged their recycling bins to the curb at the same time, but Sigrid’s never been one for small talk. In the year or so since moving in, she’s spoken with the man next door only a handful of times, each conversation strained by awkwardness and her penchant for silence. 

Too much time spent thinking about stray dogs around the neighbourhood. There are plenty of other people on the street capable of calling animal control if they feel inclined to deal with it; the woman two houses down has kids that play in the front lawn every day before dinner—no one would look twice at her for calling the pound. 

In the morning, Sigrid drags herself out of bed and brushes the knots out of her hair before tying it up, brushing her bangs away from her face. The sky is a watery thin blue when she exits the house, rain forecast by the low hanging clouds. 

She picks up babka from the bakery on the way to work, hesitating before asking for a second as well, the employee behind the counter barely keeping from rolling her eyes when she snips the ribbon holding the box together and opens it up again to add another. 

The inside of her car smells of cinnamon the whole drive there. 

There’s no one else in the carpark when Sigrid pulls in, so the brisk walk into the office is quiet. Soft, cloud-snuffed light dusts the white-pannelled walls and plum carpeted floor. Ken waves from behind the front desk on her way past and there’s a bucket of umbrellas by the door for when the rain starts later. 

The break room counter is chock-full of sliced fruit, coffee, bagels, muffins, and assorted cream cheese, jam, and jelly packets. 

“Is that for the potluck?” one of the junior associates asks, pointing at the white box in Sigrid’s hands. 

She nods. “Yeah. Where should I put it?”

“Over there’s fine.” They point at a free spot at the end of the counter. 

The wax paper crinkles in the box when Sigrid pulls off the ribbon and pops the lid, folding it back to keep it from closing over. Conversation around the break room is light and stilted, morning yawns punctuating the end of every sentence. The group she hovers near chats about an episode of a show she’s never seen from the night before, and she hums when someone asks her if she’s seen it and says no, but I’ve been meaning to get around to it.

By mid afternoon, a thin sheet of rain pours from the dark grey clouds blotting out the sun. Sigrid’s cubicle isn’t close enough to a window for her to watch the rain, so she lingers by one on her way back from the bathroom, staring out at the dark concrete in the parking lot. It’s too late in the season for anything to grow, but the dirt turns to mud because the ground still isn’t frozen yet. 

Back in her cubicle, she sits down and disappears into her work. 

“They’ve bumped up the SWOT meeting to this Thursday,” Joanne, her boss, tells her apropos of nothing when she stops by Sigrid’s cubicle, front teeth stained red from gnawing on her bottom lip all afternoon. Sigrid chooses not to mention it. 

“Oh,” Sigrid says. “You’ll need the feasibility report and proposal earlier then.”

“Yeah,” Joanne sighs. “Preferably before Wednesday so I can familiarize myself with it.”

“I can stay a bit late and finish it today,” she offers, less than enthused about the idea even though she’s the one suggesting it. 

“You don’t mind?” Joanne asks, brows knitting together concernedly. 

“No.” Yes. 

An avid student of human behaviour, this is an exchange she’s come across before. In the past, Sigrid might have mistook it for a genuine inquiry into her feelings about staying late to finish work for her boss, but she’s learned to read it as an exchange in negation, the implicit demand to stay obfuscated so that each party leaves feeling proud of themselves—her boss for being so even-tempered and not demanding more than her employees are willing to give, and her for being so resilient and hardworking. 

“Thanks, Sigrid, you’re a rockstar,” her boss beams, giving her a thumbs up. 

She smiles back, trying to match her enthusiasm. It must pass muster because Joanne leaves after that, throwing her another cooed thank you behind her.

Sigrid pulls up a mostly blank document and sighs, heading to the kitchen for another coffee before starting on the report. The work isn’t particularly hard, but it’s tedious, and she’d only planned on even starting it today. 

A couple hours pass and her back aches from sitting hunched over her laptop. She takes a break to roll her shoulders out and grab a glass of water. Someone asks for her help on her way back to her cubicle and that delays her another twenty minutes, but she’s learned that people don’t take kindly to being told that she’s too busy to help. 

She stays so late that the lights switch to motion detection, and every ten minutes she has to stand up and wave her arms over her head in order for them to switch back on.

It’s always unsettling to be in the office after hours, the rows of cubicles seeming almost endless when Sigrid looks around the room. An ocean of neck-high modular office partitions criss-crossing each other until the lights switch off again and they disappear into the shadows, illuminated only by the emergency light over the stairwell door at the far end of the office. 

The night security guard nods to her on her way out, sitting behind the desk in the lobby with his feet up, hands folded over his belly. 

Like the other day, the road is empty on her drive home, everyone else already home for the night. Though the rain has mostly let up for the night, the road is still slick and her headlights reflect off the puddles, forcing her to squint slightly. 

She’s just about to switch her headlights off after pulling into the driveway when she notices a dark stain on the side of the house. It’s obvious what it is but she stares anyway, irked. 

Sigrid leaves the headlights on and the car running when she steps out, her shadow stretching across the driveway when she crosses in front of the car. Even from a distance, the smell of piss is pungent and unmistakable. Ammonic. The stain is fresh too, the dog probably still around. 

She exhales through her nose. It’s irritating but not intolerable. She might change her tune if the dog starts leaving presents on her lawn though. 

The rest of the evening slips away without much coaxing, nine becoming ten in seemingly the same minute. Her routine is a comfort against the disorder of her day. At eight-thirty, she puts away her phone for the night; at night, she showers; at nine-thirty, she puts on a fresh pair of pyjamas, and at ten, she slips into bed and reads for the last half hour of her day. By eleven, her cheek is tucked against the pillow and consciousness is drifting away, her day finally coming to an end.

A tap on the window wakes her out of a dead sleep. 

Confused, Sigrid sits up in bed to peer around the room, brushing the hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. The bedroom door is still open like she left it, the radiator humming in the other room. It’s hard to tell what woke her up when a quick glance around the room reveals nothing amiss.

Something scratches against the siding of the house under her window. It’s hard to tell at first where the noise is coming from, or if she’s even hearing anything at all, but it draws her attention because it’s slow, irregular. A scratch, then silence, then another scratch. 

When she looks over at the window, there’s something there.

It isn’t easy to make out. A moonless night and the darkness of her room provides no light with which to make out the thing looking in through her window. But there’s something there, a glint in the darkness. 

Her throat constricts, saliva choking her. For a moment, all she can do is lay there staring back at the thing looking in through her window. A trembling hand inches over to the bedside lamp, shaking fingers wrapping around the cord before pulling down, the room suddenly filling with light.

Her eyes squeeze shut instinctively, the light blinding her for a second. When she opens them again and looks over at the window, her own reflection is the only thing staring back at her. A ghost with dark, tangled hair and owl eyes. 

Fear roots her in place for longer than she’d like. No idea if it’s still there on the other side of the opaque glass staring back at her. Her heart jackhammers against her ribs and her mouth tastes sour. Eventually though, she gets out of bed on shaky legs and lurches towards the window, cell phone picked up from her bedside table and clamped in a sweaty hand. 

Sigrid cups a hand around the glass and looks out. Eyes dart around the backyard, sweeping across from fence to fence. Nothing. She looks straight down. 

There are scratch marks in the dirt under her window, the earth turned up and tufts of dead, sodden grass flattened into the mud. The tracks in the mud look like paw prints, but—

Sigrid frowns, staring at the marks for so long that her eyes start to hurt.

—when she looks around, there’s no dog in her yard.

[freeluigihesbae]

𝓹𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓾𝓫𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 2

(4,612 words)

part 1

summary: you're mean. you're bad. but your smart enough to get grades and attention and yet, breaking luigi mangione to be the kind of person you are... doesn't seem to work.

little do ya know, he's about to break you instead.

𝗍𝗐: 𝖲𝖬𝖴𝖳𝖳𝖳𝖳, 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏 (𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽), 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖺𝗅, 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗓 𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝖾𝗋𝖺, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗒!

~

"Hey!" You turn your head around, only see Kate running over and grabbing your arm. "You look like you've seen a ghost." You shake your head, still staring at her incredulously thinking well wouldn't she love to know, before giving her a laugh.

"I'm fine. It's just the introvert in me feeling overwhelmed." You respond to Kate's constant shaking of you, but the word overwhelmed is double entendre in a sense, because it's true. You're not a party girl. Neither are you Luigi's girl.

But now, you were going to be at least one of those tonight. If Luigi kept his word, then two.

"You need to get laid bitch!" Kate starts dragging you across the floor, away from the counter where Luigi had cornered you a few moments earlier, bringing you to the middle of the dance floor where your eyes were running around the crowd, taking in the girls' small tops and dresses combined with the sweaty men, all giving their attention up to the music blasting and the hands mutually caressing random skin.

Boundaries were constantly being broken and the mere thought of some rando touching and feeling you up made you want to fly out of the nearest window, especially since the main objective to was to keep your mind on something less stressful than finishing the coding project you had.

"If it's that much of problem why don't we make-out?" You snort as Kate starts grooving on the floor, letting her put her hands around your waist before she snorts back.

"I wish I could but I'm into men. No matter h-how hard I try-" Kate is tipsy, laughing at her own joke while you mirror her, trying to keep her on her feet. "I still go for the more pitiful half of the population." You and Kate giggle before becoming a part of the crowd, laughing away. The thoughts of Luigi simply flutter away as you lose yourself in the music, thinking that maybe, being dragged to the club isn't as bad as you thought it would be.

~

"Have fun!" You wink at Kate, who's got a fairly tall and handsome guy around her fingertips, desperately trying to touch her which she seems to enjoy. You always saw her as the charge-taking, dominant type, so all kudos to her as you watch her getting dragged up the stairs and out of your sight.

You're back the solitude of it all, asking the bartender for another drink, the lightest that they've got, before you feel a hand tap your shoulder.

"Ryder?" You squint while looking and nod for yourself when you realize it's him.

Right, Ryder. The guy who certainly has a crush on you and has certainly tried to talk to you on multiple occasions but has been subject to repeated rejection.

Well, by you.

He's certainly handsome, but he wasn't your type. But if the night was going to go on without Kate, it might as well go with someone else.

"What's up?" You eye him while downing your drink, smiling as the alcohol slowly makes your body feel weak. Ryder seems to catch on, eyes widening as he moves closer as a caution.

"Just wanted to talk." Ryder smirks, yet keep a respectful distance between you both. You furrow your eyebrows, feeling more and more out of your element as time passes, but you nod your head.

"Yeah about what?" You nearly slam your head on the counter because it comes out way harsher than usual, but he doesn't seem to feel that way, because he simply answers.

"Why don't go on the rooftop, y'know, spend some time alone?" Ryder shouts over the music, as a new EDM song strong enough to create an earthquake is played on the speakers. The combination of stimulation are draining your energy and for the sake of time pass, this seems like your best option. His cool hand comes to grab your forearm, taking the lead as you both walk towards the end of a hallway and into a different staircase.

"W-Where we goin'?" You slur your words, trying to keep up. Ryder places his arm around you before dragging you up the steps. "We're jus' gonna spend some time alone. Nothin' else beautiful." He takes the liberty of swiping his finger on your bottom lip, which makes you drag your head back, bringing you to your senses.

This isn't the safest situation, so you're on the best high alert you can muster, wishing you didn't get drunk.

He opens up a trap door, the chill air of the night immediately coming to hit your face, before extending a hand and pulling you up with him.

"Thanks." You whisper quietly before finding a comfortable spot on the slant of the roof, keeping a few inches distance with Ryder as he sits down next to you. "So." You speak, wondering what he has to say. Ryder simply looks at you and turns his head.

"So... what brought you here tonight?" He takes a swig at his beer bottle and you raise an eyebrow before answering.

"My friend dragged me- thanks - here because of some stupid coding project I'm doing last minute." Ryder hands his bottle over to you and you take a nice chug yourself, realizing it's full of alcohol. You cough a few times before Ryder places a hand on your back in concern. "You alright there pretty?" Ryder slides his hand down a bit further and you snap.

"Not your pretty." You eye him with anger and Ryder laughs, retracting his hand before giving a half-hearted sorry.

"Anyways," you eye him carefully before turning your head again, quietly trying to balance yourself as the alcohol is making your senses messy again. "Why are you here?" Ryder immediately responds.

"Just came with some friends," Ryder says, staring at the sky before he turns his entire body to look at you. "I need to tell you something." He speaks and you internally roll your eyes, holding your breath because oops, forgot this guys is like IN LOVE me.

You nod, tightening your muscles and jaw before you watch his lips part, quivering in nervousness.

"I-I like you and I thought maybe we could go out sometime?" Ryder speaks in a weak, unsure voice and it makes you want to jump off the roof because he's asked you so many times and you've said no. Anger washes over you and before you know it, you're saying words without thinking.

"Ryder I've told you already. I am not interested. Not. N-O-T. What part don't you get?" You raise your voice, moving your hands around to express your anger and Ryder just stares before speaking with equal vigor.

"You can't just say that without giving me a chance! What's wrong with you? All I've ever done is be a nice guy and you won't even try. All you do is fuckin' moan and smooch around Mangione." Ryder scoffs towards the end and your eyes go wide.

"What did you say?" You ask, tilting your head downward in confusion and shock. Ryder rolls his eyes before repeating his words but you cut him off. "I mean what you said at the end Ryder." You remind him and he rolls his eyes even more.

"What? Y' need a refresher darling? Because for all I know, you only pay attention to the fuckin' Mangione guy. Showing your breasts and ass for him because all you are is a fuckin' slut-" "Oh fuck you Ryder. I don't give a shit about Luigi and I don't know why I should give a shit about what would happen if I pushed you off this roof right now." You don't actually mean it, but this has Ryder threading his fingers through his hair in anger, steam practically fleeting of his skin while you groan.

That's when you remember your moment with Luigi and how he cornered you at the bar, telling you that your attitude should be fucked out of you. It seems like a much more enticing proposition but that familiar sourness fills your lips, because shit, you don't want to admit it.

"Just admit that you like him!" Ryder shouts into the air and you whip your head around, heart pounding against your chest.

If that was a truth you wanted to share, you were not going to do it with a wimp of a boy sitting across from you, one that couldn't take no for an answer.

"I DON'T! He's fucking stupid and annoying and irritating and arrogant I cannot-" "What's going on here?"

A new voice startles you both and you blink your eyes a few times before realizing that it's the man of the century.

Luigi Mangione.

~

"What's it to you Mangion-" "Get off of the roof. Right now." Luigi speaks in a commanding tone, cutting off Ryder, and at first, you're not sure who he's talking to, but you realize that his eyes are on you. They're glimmering in the soft moonlight falling on the roof and you're taken aback, frozen in your spot.

"Hey I'm talking here." Ryder throws his hands up and you're still frozen, prompting Luigi to mumble a few words before he's stepping up onto the roof and practically picking you up and back through the roof door. You yelp, grabbing onto Luigi and looking back at Ryder, who has a knowing and irritated look on his face.

"H-" "You can get down yourself Ryder." Luigi sneers before climbing back down the ladder, gently placing you on the floor before pushing you ahead of him.

"Walk." Luigi speaks simply and you turn around, willing to make an attempt against his upper-hand in the situation.

"No, you don't get to talk to me like that." Youye speak with a steady voice, turning your back around and making your way into the sea of people dancing to the music but his hand yanks you back.

"I said you fuckin' walk and I mean in the direction I first told you do. Do you understand?" Luigi presses you against a wall, gravelly voice speaking into your ear. It takes everything in you not to whimper, yet, you don't nod, opting to push him off and walk in the opposite direction.

Luigi lets your lack of answer slide, stalking behind you as you aimlessly walk down the hall. You carefully check, seeing if there are any open rooms and within seconds and before you can comprehend the unlocked room, you're being pushed inside.

Luigi locks the door before he brings a hand, pressing you into the wall with your neck bare and strained.

"What the fuck was that?" Luigi sneers, speaking into your face whose features are now contorted into shock and pain.

"F-Fuck Luigi he just asked me to get on the roof. What's it to y-oh-" You try to speak with anger and irritation but his fingers slide to the junction of your ear and neck, massaging the weak spot. Your hands tremble as your grab his t-shirt.

"Yeah? Yeah you all weak for me? Where was that attitude in class, hm?" Luigi presses down and watches tears crowd your eyes. "Why'd you go with him, hm? Tell me." He pushes a knee between your legs, and you realize you're soaked, ridiculously soak. You take note of wet drop making your eyelashes stick together as you let soft noises spill from your lips.

Luigi pulls away. You crouch, letting your shoulders fall in confusion and shame.

"Luig-" You try to speak but Luigi shakes his head.

"You're genuinely so fucking stupid." Luigi groans, pulling a chair and sitting down and you're so confused, that you just stand there like he didn't call you an idiot.

"Wh- Luigi, I'm sorry, did I-" "Say that again." Luigi looks up at you, tears in his eyes. Your eyes go wide, heart rate picking up because you're nervous that you genuinely did something wrong. "Luigi-" "NO."

Luigi shouts, nearly pulling out his hair before he starts yelling.

"Is it that hard to say you're sorry? 'I'm sorry' are the two words I never heard you say and this is how far things need to get for you to apologize?" Luigi is glaring at you and you stare back, but with pain and desperation intertwined. You take a step forward, reaching your hands out to touch him even though you know you won't.

Luigi looks at you, craning his neck out and you blink, fluttering your eyelids, trying to get the words out. He watches intently, impatience breaking the a different ceiling with every second that passes. It angers him, your stubbornness making him stand up to tower over you again.

"You are so fucking mean. You're a deplorable bitch and an idiot to think that everyone around is going tolerate your bullshit. You think you're so high and mighty, and yet, all it takes is me standing over you," he emphasizes his words by stepping even closer, forcing you to tilt your head back and stare into his anger-blinded eyes. "All it takes is me towering a few inches over you and your ego melts like butter. It shows, you know, how weak you are. That's why you never think twice before you talk but let me tell you, you've got some shards in your head." Luigi grabs your face and you watch in fear, taking note of a few tears that shed from his eyes from his sheers aggression.

"Luigi-" "No, you fucking listen. You know how fucking irritating you are? You're everything I hate and yet, you're so intelligent and you waste it on acting like slut." You gasp, hearing the word slip from his mouth and it makes you breath hitch, prompting a devious smirk on his face.

"Yeah? Do you like it when I tell you what you're doing? You like it when I reduce you to your worth?" Luigi cocks his head to the side, tightening his fingers around your cheek and you swear, if it isn't for the table behind you, you would've fallen over, bent backwards.

You try to get some words out but his grip is so threatening, that processing his touch takes up most of your brainspace.

"Give me answer NOW." Luigi takes the liberty to push you onto the bed and at a loss of words, you only react with your body, trying to get away from him but it's to no avail, as he's grabbing your ankles and locking you between himself and the bed.

"C'mon baby, it's not so hard is it? This isn't a coding project. It's just a binary system. You know that right?" He bends down, his breath tickling the skin on your neck and you take a deep breath in.

It's time to cede.

"Y-Yes Luigi-" "Yes for what you bitch?" Your eyes go wide and Luigi fakes surprise.

"Oh did that hurt?" He watches as your eyes become glossy because ouch that did hurt. You never thought he had it in him to talk to you like this, seeming like a simple gentleman who would never a lay a hand even when provoked.

You pout, genuinely feeling his words pierce at your conscience which makes him laugh, his hands slowly coming up to press yours down into the bed.

"Answer me." Luigi bends down to whisper in your ear. You part your lips to speak but he interrupts.

"And talk in full sentences please. The way you do when you're trying to shove a stick up my ass because you don't know anything better." The shame overshadows the anger that flares up in your body, so you follow the better option.

"I-I like when you - fuck - reduce me to w-what I really am - mmm -" His hand had already detached from your arm between your stammering words, slowly dragging down your exposed stomach. You squirm, desperate to get more and Luigi thoroughly enjoys it.

"Oh god." Luigi speaks with a hollowness, nearly drowning in satisfaction when he watches your stomach tuck in and out irregularly, reacting to his teasing touch which you know better than to whine and complain about. His eyes are boring into yours, almost as a caution to help you avoid saying the - well - bratty things you normally would. "I've waited to so long to see you like. I've waiting for several torturous months, baby, and finally I've got you like putty in my hands." Luigi smiles while staring into your eyes and fuck, you forget everything that happened between the two of your because wow he's got a stunning smile.

And skill with his fingers.

Before you know it, you're gasping as his hand trails farther down, prodding at your wet cunt. You whine, trying to close your legs but it earns you a hard, inner thigh slap which you enjoy more than you should. His other free arm comes racing down to spread your legs apart, before you replaces the space with his knees and presses his arm into your stomach.

"Stay right there m'kay? Be a good girl for me and maybe I'll help you with that project I know you haven't finished." Luigi commands you and it almost feels like you've crashed into a wall.

As if you haven't stripped yourself entirely of your shame, for some reason, his demand seems to anger you. This, he notices, but continues his ministrations, curious to see if you'll act on it.

You open your lips to ignore the pleasure coming from your clit, but there's nothing you can say because he hooks and curls a finger inside, making your eyes fly open and a string of moans fall from your lips. Your fingers grab and crush the sheets with a passion only Luigi could rile up from within you.

Literally.

"What was that pretty mouth gonna say? Hm?" Luigi starts fucking your cunt, faster with every pump, and your words turn into puddles of letter - sounds - which are incoherent and find him displeased. He pulls the same finger out to the rim of your cunt, before shoving three inside and you nearly scream, clenching around him but you know it won't do anything.

You stare down at him, biting your lip and weak with glossy eyes, taking in the way his bicep flexes with every movement back and forth. The t-shirt pulls on his shoulder, a little too tight, and if you weren't so annoyed at his jab, you may have cum right then and there.

"I asked a fucking question. Where's the teacher's pet when you want her?" Luigi practically growls, fucking you even faster and lord have mercy because you're seconds away from cumming.

"W-Was gonna tell you t-to - fuck fuck fuck - f-fuck yourself-" "So you don't need help?" Luigi pulls his fingers out and stares at you, as if nothing happened. You gasp and stare at him, your rebellion flickering with doubt in your eyes.

"N-No." You answer, unsure of what he's about to do, and with that, Luigi shakes his head. "Guess my job is done here." Luigi smirks and you're not sure how what happens next happens, but it does.

"Please let me cum." You let the words tumble from your mouth and Luigi raises both of his eyebrows, which makes you swallow hard. You were so turned on that you could rut the bed and satisfy yourself, but it wouldn't be nearly as good as his veiny hands gripping your hips while he fucked you like the bratty doll you we-

"Let me help you with the project, and you have a deal." Luigi lowers his mouth, leaving kisses right above your clit and it takes everything in you not to buck your hips up.

"M-Make me." You whisper it out, wanting to test his limits knowing it could go absolutely either way. It certainly does go one way, because his lips are off of you in an instant and his hand is grabbing your hair, pulling you up to his face. You yelp, grabbing his t-shirt to support yourself and wincing at the way the hair pull pinched your scalp everywhere.

"You just don't get it do you? You don't know how to fuckin squash that ego and let me tell you, I'm tired of hearing it. I'm tired of seeing it. And tonight, I'm gonna fuck it out of you until you remember how you begged for me to let you cum because that's what you fucking deserve." Luigi lets go and pushes you back on the bed, instantly tearing your dress off and flipping you around, which earns another gasp quickly drowned by a hard slap.

"Not a fucking sound. I'm tired of hearing that dirty hole." He lands another spank and this time, it's extremely painful, because of his rings, cool yet sharp with detail. You whimper nod and Luigi grabs your neck from behind, arching it with force.

"I said not a fucking sound." He slaps your cunt and pushes you forward, and the force with which he does makes it burn, quickly replaced by his fingers surging inside and through your juices.

Unlike the scene you'd expected, you here him unbuckling his belt, jeans dropping to the floor as you dig a few fingers into your mouth, worried from anticipation.

"Cat got your tongue?" You can hear the smirk in his voice and you want to respond, but you remember he strictly told you not to.

"Good girl." And with that, he slams himself into you and your fingers are outstretched within seconds as you gasp for air, the pleasure coursing through you. You try to orient your eyes but you can't stop them from getting stuck behind your eyelids, moaning with every miniscule movement you sense. He's kind enough to give you time to adjust, but with every second that passes, he's twitching inside and it pushes against your already sensitive walls.

"Alright. Time's up bitch." And with that, Luigi slams into you, skin slapping feverishly as you moan with every thrust, adhering to whatever pattern he was setting, slow or fast.

"Tell me y-ya need help on t-that project - fuck- or else forget 'bout cumming." He's still pistoning himself into you, watching through his own teary eyes the way your body is shaking in tandem. "C'mon!" He slaps your ass, irregularly but enough to remind you that he's looking for an answer.

Meanwhile, it's great that he wants the answer, but his dick is even better. You can't stop yourself from zoning out and entirely focusing on how every movement of him inside of you inducing a dangerous amount of euphoria.

"I-I c-can't." You sob and admit the truth, allowing yourself some vulnerability because it's true, you needed help, but saying it felt like someone was taking away everything you had.

"Y-Yeah?" Luigi surges forward, hiking up a leg over his shoulder and fucking you sideways this time, and you scream, covering your mouth as sweat forms on your forehead. "Why can't I help, hm? Why can't you shove that ego aside the way I'm shoving my cock inside of you, huh?" Luigi laughs a bit before his voice turns into a myriad of groans, signaling that he's close.

"I-I-" You try to get the words up but you can feel yourself getting close too and you know too much movement, even on your part, is going to push you over the edge. "P-Please let me c-cum oh god!" Your whines and moans get higher and higher pitched and you know Luigi is willing to throw his anger aside.

"Tell. Me. You. Need. Help." He thrusts with each word, going extra deep with each one before grabbing your hair and pulling your head back.

You are supposed to give your ego, not your project grade, right?

"FINE I NEED HELP JUST LET ME CUM MANGIONE!" You scream at the top of your lungs and at this point, you're sure more than two people must have heard you begging to for release, but you can't have it in you to care.

Luigi bends down and whispers into your ear.

"Cum." And that's it. Your leg shake inevitably as you chant his name with a combination of several other eloquent curse words, both from your release and the warmth of having him fill you with his cum.

"Oh my god." You and Luigi speak at the same time and stare at each other wide-eyed before breaking into giggles. "I-I-I need help I-" You start crying and laughing at the same time, and a considering Luigi stops pulling out which makes him cock his head to the side.

"I-" "You can pull out-" Luigi nods but doesn't pull out completely.

Your eyes widen before snorting.

"WHAT?" You giggle, confused about what's going on. Luigi lets his lips part before laughing and tilting his head. "My cum is inside I just don't want it running down your legs or something-" Luigi stops when he sees the reaction on your face.

And you're dumbstruck. That one comment makes you realize how much of an idiot you've been this entire time, basking in attention that's so shallow when you never realized how deep people around you could be.

Talk about epiphanies at very strange and confusing times. Like your ex? enemy having half of his dick up your cunt.

"Luigi I'll be fine." You tilt your head before staring back at him, confusion equally etched on your face. He nods, pulling out and grabbing a towel from nearby. "I'll wait outside the room -- I'll walk back to your dorm so we can work on that project." Luigi speaks but you can tell his thoughts are drifting.

You nod, watching him walk towards the door. In that time, you grab the sheets, covering your legs but looking up when his figure halts.

"You alright?" You ask with concern, bending your body forward confusion.

Luigi's hand is still on the doorknob but he turns around before looking up and down at you.

"You're too good to be bad. Please don't hurt yourself that you've done up until this point." Luigi seems to regret his words, but the smile on your face tells him otherwise, before he's slipped through the door and you here it click back into place.

What's better is that it doesn't feel so horrible to say he's right.

~

"I never understood why you were upset the day you found Ryder and I on the roof." You words are muffled from the sandwich you're downing, but Luigi finds it endearing every bite you take.

"I was jealous." He rolls his eyes before looking out the window and blushing when you started squealing.

"Oh my god you were jealous? I can't believe it. No wonder you gave me the best sex I had since start university." You nearly choke on your food and Luigi turns around, his jaw dropping wide.

"Are you serious? You're telling me the best sex you had stemmed from me demanding that I help you with your project?" Luigi furrows his eyebrows, almost concerned because what?

You nod, cackling like an idiot when you watch him go through all five stages of shock.

"Sure thing. Haven't had better since I came looking at the 98% on the project." You smirk, purposefully getting him riled up and that's when his expression remains unchanged, albeit one eyebrow getting raised.

"Deal, pretty girl. I'll make sure you regret saying that. Wasn't too smart of you." You snicker, trying to stifle your smile as you watch him get up and walk into your room, taking his shirt off and you know...

You're in for a good night.

~

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[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 146

"ollie! come here, boy!"

luke's voice was followed by the distinct sound of nails scratching against the hardwood floor – and just a second later, he was attacked by a big, golden bullet.

jack had landed on the name oliver the exact moment he saw the golden retriever pup at the foster home. he felt it deep in his soul, he had told you, and just like that, it had been settled. he needed to get a dog.

you hadn't even been at the foster home to adopt, just to check it out. but you can't stop fate, jack had said. whatever that meant.

luke had been just as, if not more, enthusiastic about the decision. ever since the adoption, luke had spent half his time just lounging around jack's apartment and playing with the dog – which was especially appreciated while jack was away for his national team duties.

jack came home with you from the four nations tournament yesterday, and today, he was back playing for the devils again. you didn't understand how he could do it, fly between games like that, but you supposed that such was the life of a sportsman. needing to be cheered up after the loss against dalas, luke tagged along back to jack's apartment to – again – hang out with ollie. and that's how you found yourself here, slipping onto the couch in jack's living room, bowl of popcorn in your hands as the two brothers argued about which movie to watch.

just like they had for the last hour.

"no way are we watching 'fight club' again," jack complained, slinging an arm across your shoulders.

bored out of your mind and having no other ideas of what to do, you threw a popcorn towards oliver, who caught it mid-air without any issues. "i thought you loved it," luke answered, leaning back slightly as you tossed more popcorn his way – the dog had no control of his excitement, jumping all over the place to catch whatever you threw at him, and luke was in no mood to loose an eye due to a wild dog.

"i do love it," jack started, picking up a handful of popcorn for himself. "but we've already watched it three times this year. pick something else."

the room went silent as luke scrolled through his brother's netflix library. when you stood up from the couch after having dropped a popcorn to the floor, the retriever flew over to your side, apparently scared that this would be the last time he would ever see the bowl. "aren't you the most energetic thing ever?" you asked, bending down a little to pick up the trash and scratch his head as he jumped up and down along your leg.

"he's going to love coming to michigan," jack hummed. "running around in the grass, playing fetch..."

"you think he's going to like swimming?" luke asked with a chuckle once oliver threw himself up into jack's embrace this time.

"i bet he's going to like it so much that he'll try swimming across the entire lake," jack groaned, playfully trying to wrestle the dog to lie still in his lap. "i feel like we won't be able to look away from him for even a second."

you shook your head at the sight, though unable to hold back your smile, before sitting down again. "you like swimming, don't you?" the younger brother asked, gaze meeting yours. "you seem like the kind of girl to enjoy swimming and sunbathing and all that stuff."

"you're going to love the lake house," jack agreed.

right, the house in michigan. jack had mentioned it once or twice, but never in relation to you or the future. yet here he was, talking about it as if there wasn't even a question that you'd tag along.

"let me just take a leak and then we can watch any movie you two want," luke said, already making his way to the bathroom. "i'm tired of searching, just pick whatever."

yet another silence fell over the room, but this one felt... different. oliver had finally calmed down and jack stroked his golden back, though his gaze – and mind – was on something else. to be fair, he had been in a bit of a slump ever since the tournament ended, and you weren't sure how to pull him out of it.

when he didn't speak up, you felt like you had to. "what are you thinking about?"

it didn't take long for him to answer. "the other night."

oh. was he thinking about the game again? that was no good. "jack-"

"i said too much, didn't i?" he said, voice low as a whisper.

during our talk? "of course not."

"yeah, i did." he laughed, but there was no actual joy in it. "i don't really know why i said it. 'i need you', that was silly."

it was easy to tell from the tone of his voice what this was – a defense mechanism. a way to take back his vulnerability, to make sure he looked strong again.

instead of just allowing him to take it back, you spoke again, voice calm as ever. "was it true?"

he froze. you could tell it from the way he stared at you, in the way he swallowed; he couldn't hide from it now, and he knew it just as well as you. "yeah."

he was terrified. terrified of what it means, terrified of having seemed weak, terrified of no longer being in control of his emotions. he's always been able to keep his feelings in check and distance himself from them when needed.

but not with you. something about you makes him feel... weak. something about you makes him open up without thinking it through.

you placed a hand on his cheek, leaning in to brush your nose against his. "i'm here, jack."

and with that, he closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "thank you," he whispered.

and when your lips slotted against his, you weren't worried anymore. you could feel it deep in your soul – everything would be alright.

[overnightheartbeats]

Her amusement grew when he used her incorrect term, her wide grin in plain view. "Kitchen date it is then. Hm, I believe that. Flour is messy, but fun." She was sure they'd find ways to have fun, learning how to cook seemed like a whole adventure on its own. "That sounds perfect, your mom's recipe and you can tell me more about her. I'm sure my dad will like you, you really won't be meeting anyone else. Only child, so it's just me and him." Laurel had to remember to give her dad a heads up of some sort, it had been some time since she brought someone home.

Laurel was melting watching him, she was already in deep, but each time he smiled, she fell deeper. Was marriage really scary after all? It did not sound like that at all while talking to him. It inevitably made her wonder. "Maybe it's not so scary, but it's nice that we're on the same page. Saves us awkwardness in the long run." Looking down at the napkin and spoon, she was eager to try. "Best milkshake? Woah, that is a bold claim. I'm intrigued."

The laughter couldn't be helped, feeling the whip cream resting on her nose but also the funny business. "Okay, we'll share the bed. As long as you're sure I'm not like peer pressuring you into it," she joked. "No funny business, I'm sure we can manage for a weekend." Right? "I've only been to Chicago once, so that'll be fun too."

She listened to him talk about his parents, and she felt a warmth just thinking of such a sweet, loving relationship. He didn't know this, but he was preaching to the choir about his fears. How they resembled each other, without knowing. Her fear was similar, to find out she was like her mother. Run when things get tough. She hoped not, doing that to him wouldn't be right. But, she'd never been with someone long enough to know. "Your parents sound like really good people, and that's such a nice example of love. And, well they do say marriage is just a piece of paper. As long as you find that connection that makes you feel like that, then you're golden." Reaching for his hand, she brushed his palm with her thumb. "For what it's worth, you don't look like the running type to me."

It was a slow nod, because his comforting words were something she didn't expect. A comfort she didn't know she needed. If she wasn't mindful about still being at this diner, the lump in her throat would've given way to her emotions. "It wasn't, yeah. My dad hasn't really recovered from it. Mhm, I just don't think she was ever meant to do the traditional marriage and kids. But, yeah she's out in the world now. Who knows, but more her speed," she concluded with a smile. Talking about her parents didn't not have the same warmth it did when they talked about his.

She felt her heart beating against her chest, threatening to jump out. He had a way to make her heart dance. "I trust you Eli. I just hope I can do the same for you, hurting you is the last thing I want to do."

That had him chuckle as she corrected herself. "I like kitchen date. There's a whole lot of trouble we can get into in a kitchen. All that flour." Something he was looking forward to in a way. "I'd like that. I have one of the pasta recipes I used to beg her to make all the time. We can try that. I just hope your family likes me." He'd never met anyone's families before so this was new territory for him.

A toothy grin spread across his features as she confirmed that she wouldn't be opposed either. Marriage talk wasn't as scary, not if this was how this was what it'd feel like. "It's not as scary, you know." he made sure he put the spoon on her side and spread her napkin out for her. "Prepare to have the best milkshake in the whole state of Texas."

"We're sharing a bed just like we do here." Eli liked that and knew that it would feel the same way it did in their dorm. "Just no funny business," he spread some of the whipped cream on her nose in a teasing manner knowing if anyone misbehaved it'd be him.

"Angela and Nicholas, my parents. They had a good marriage. They took in another kid when they didn't need to. They always seemed like best friends to me. I'd look at them a few times when we were out to eat and if you saw them you'd think they were still dating and in that honeymoon phase. I remember feeling like that was what I wanted my future partner being like. If marriage would be like theirs then I'd have no problem. But I'm just scared. I don't want to find out that I'm the type of man that wouldn't stay if things got tough."

Eli sighed softly reading between the lines. Young marriage on top of a baby, not many people could navigate through that. "That still wasn't fair to you or your dad. Sounds like your mother had a lot of growing up to do that she never did." He would never understand why people couldn't grow up when kids were involved or how anyone wouldn't look at their own child and not feel an immense amount of love. Then again, he wasn't sure he was equipped to answer that.

Taking her hand he squeezed it and smiled. "I promise the chance you're taking on me won't land you getting hurt."

[xmads-omensx]

Part 8

Word Count: 1,866

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

CW: fake dating, swearing, angst, mentions of harassment, self-deprecative thoughts and language, feelings of not being good enough

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @bloody-spades @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @amelia-acero @thisbicc @dominuslunae @enemiestolovershoe @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @cheyyyyr @littlebear423 @dsireland86 @missduffsblog @overmydeadbodysblog @dominuslunae @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm @museonfilm

I always forgot how long Noah’s legs were, but was sorely reminded as I tried and failed to catch up with him as he walked away from me.

“Noah!” I called after him as he walked towards the set of stairs in the restaurant. “Wait, please.”

He didn’t stop. As much as I pleaded he just wouldn’t stop walking away from me.

“Noah!” I tried again as the distance between us widened.

My heart pounded in my ribcage as I tried my hardest to keep up with him, but with the stairs, it was getting harder and harder.

Finally, we were approaching the top.

I didn’t know where he was going.

I just blindly followed him, spurred on by desperation.

There was a metal door at the top that he opened with a creak, slamming it behind him, presumably to keep me out.

I refused to let him shut me out, so I too opened the metal door, which was far heavier than I had anticipated since Noah made it look so easy.

“Noah, talk to me. Come on.” I pleaded.

“No! I don’t want to fucking talk to you Y/N!” He yelled, whipping his body around to face me. “You don’t fucking get it do you? You leave my place without a word and completely ghost me until you needed something, and now he’s telling me that you were at his place last night?”

He seemed angry.

No.

He was livid.

I had never seen Noah so angry in all the years that I had known him.

“I can explain, tha-“ He cut me off.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it Y/n.” He angrily replied, running his hands down his face with a sigh.

I stood there in complete silence as I watched Noah pace the rooftop.

It was cold.

But I didn’t care.

“Noah.” I tried again softly. “He’s lying. I never went to his place, I don’t even know where he lives.”

“Look Y/N, we have already established that you’re an impeccable liar since you’ve been able to hold up this fake ass relationship for what’s starting to feel like forever, so how the fuck do I know that you’re not lying about this too?” He snarled, his hands resting on his hips as he ranted.

“Noah I would never lie to you.” I said, my voice breaking as I struggled to hold back the tears that were threatening to cascade down my face.

“Oh really? Then why did you leave last night?” He said expectantly. He knew I wouldn’t answer. He always knew.

“I- umm-“ I replied, unsure of what to say.

The words I love you hung on the tip of my tongue, but they wouldn’t come out.

“Exactly.” He laughed mercilessly. “Besides, you can access his address, phone number and literally anything else that you wanted to through your work system.”

“Noah, I never went to his place. Please, you have to believe me.” I begged.

“Actually, I don’t have to do shit.” He shouted.

“Noah please.” I begged again.

“And since I don’t have to do shit, whatever the fuck this is.” He snarled, pointing between the two of us. “Is over. Done. Finished. I don’t owe you jack shit, Y/N. You don’t get to backstab me like this after all I’ve done for you.”

I was shocked.

Noah had never acted like this before.

Something else was going on.

“Noah, it’s not like I cheated on you.” I snapped back, frustrated by his anger since our relationship wasn’t real.

“Fuck you.” He yelled back, startling me.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” I shouted in retaliation, furious that he thought he could speak to me like that and not make me mad.

“You fucking heard me Princess, or do you need me to spell it out for you like the child you are?” He snarled viciously.

“Child? I’m not the one acting like a child, Noah, you are. One minor issue and you throw your toys out of the fucking pram like a baby.” I erupted.

“You’re the fucking childish one, Y/N! Prancing around with me on your fucking arm, ready to go to fucking jail for you, whilst you get with the dude I’m supposed to be protecting you from!” He screamed.

“I never slept with him Noah!” I screamed.

“Then why the fuck were you at his fucking house?” He snarled.

“How many goddamn times do I have to tell you that I wasn’t at his fucking house you idiot?” I shouted.

Silence fell around us.

I knew I touched a nerve.

Since dropping out of school at such a young age, Noah was somewhat insecure about the fact that he felt as though he wasn’t as intelligent as his peers.

Like he was lesser than them.

Over the years we had been best friends, I had showed him that he was one of the most intelligent people that I knew.

That he didn’t have to have finished school to be smart.

He was well spoken, but he often played that up to seem more intelligent than he was.

And I had just dragged all of those emotions up from the deepest, darkest, blackest depths of the ocean that was Noah.

I had fucked up, and big.

“Noah, I didn’t mean-“ I tried to apologise in a soft tone.

“Yes you did.” He replied quietly.

Too quiet.

His voice was hoarse from yelling so much, which only made it hurt more to listen to.

He sounded completely broken.

“Noah.” I whispered, so quiet as if my voice would shatter him if I spoke too loud it would shatter him.

It was raining now.

He stood opposite me still, not moving.

His face looked down at the concrete ground beneath his white trainers.

“I look like an idiot.” He whispered in a frustrated voice before he began pulling off layers of his clothes.

First, his jacket came off, throwing it to the now wet ground, then he began unbuttoning his white dress shirt, pulling it out from his black slacks with urgency.

He was breathing heavily as he grabbed at his clothing haphazardly, his body swaying as his feet moved him in a circle.

“Noah stop.” I whispered, the tears now spilling out. “You’re scaring me.”

“Idiot. I’m a fucking idiot.” He kept mumbling as he continued in that circle, failing to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Noah, please.” I begged, almost too scared to step towards him.

“I’m a fucking idiot.” He continued. “Stupid fucking idiot. Why the fuck did I dress up for this. It wasn’t a date. Fucking idiot. She would never date you. Idiot.”

My body moved on autopilot, walking towards Noah and placing my hands on his forearms, close to his elbows.

He was completely soaked.

His short hair hung in his face, droplets falling on my own damp face.

“Noah.” I whispered. “You’re not an idiot.”

His body trembled beneath my hands.

That’s when I realised that the dampness on his cheeks wasn’t from the rain. He was crying. And the shivering wasn’t from the rain alone. He was sobbing.

“Noah, baby, come here.” I whispered softly, guiding him to sit on a vent that was nearby.

He didn’t fight back, and had stopped mumbling.

Noah sat on the vent with a thud, immediately pulling me close and burying his head into my chest.

“Am I an idiot?” He murmured.

“No.” I gently replied. “Noah you are not an idiot.”

“I think I am.” He said sadly.

“Listen to me Noah, you are not an idiot.” I assured as best as I could.

He didn’t respond, he just buried himself further into my chest.

“No, I am.” He replied after a few seconds.

His admission shattered my heart. It was all my fault he was feeling this way.

“If I wasn’t an idiot, I would have never agreed to this stupid fucking arrangement, and I never would’ve gotten so fucking hurt.” He finished his sentence with a snarl and stood up, pushing me away from him.

“Noah?” I called after him.

“Fuck you.” He replied, leaning down to pick up his now sopping wet jacket off of the ground. “I’m done with you and your stupid arrangement. So I am going to leave and go home. You can get a ride to your place off of Gabi or Ashley. Hell, you’ll probably go home with Stephen since you two seem to be a thing now. You know what Y/N? I don’t think I want to see you again. Not for a while. The thought of you alone breaks my heart and we both know that I cannot take any more heartbreak.” He laughed sarcastically.

“Noah I-“ I tried to defend myself once again.

“Just shut up.” He snapped. “I got all dressed up like a fucking dumbass thinking that I would finally, maybe by some stroke of luck, make you see me. Because you don’t. I love you and apparently I’m a massive fucking idiot because you clearly don’t feel the same way about me. So I am going to head home now and try and forget about how shitty tonight has been. Maybe I’ll even re-download tinder or something. Because I deleted it you know. When we started this fucking thing I deleted them all in some insane act of desperation that maybe, just maybe, you would fall for me like I fell for you.”

He slipped his jacket on and strode past me, opening the metal door to head back down the stairs back to the restaurant.

Those three words were on the tip of my tongue once again, but like always they wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

“I guess I just need  to accept the fact that no matter what, I’ll never be enough for you.” He said sadly before I heard the metal door clank shut, a soft “I love you too” fell out of my mouth in a pathetic whisper as tears streamed down my cheeks.

But it was too late.

It would always be too late.

I turned to follow him back down in some insane last ditch attempt to salvage us, if there was even an us left to salvage.

But it was too late.

By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs his car was already pulling out of the car park, leaving me alone.

“So Loverboy left huh?” A voice spoke from behind me, just as a warm, sweaty hand placed itself on my shoulder.

My blood boiled.

“I’m more than happy to give you a ride home if that’s what you need sweetheart.” Stephen’s slimy voice perforated my eardrums as he spoke, leaning far too close to me.

I didn’t say anything, I simply watched as Noah drove away in his car, further and further away from me.

“Oh poor Y/N. Looks like you and Nikolai are over now huh?” Stephen’s irritating voice spoke again.

“His name is Noah.” I whispered as his car faded from view.

I could feel my heart break inside of my chest.

I couldn’t live with the prospect of never seeing him again.

I needed to fix this.

[caffeinated-binturong]

Corrective Maintenance

Sevika x Reader

Synopsis: You thought no one would notice the sudden decline of your prosthetic but are caught and forced to get fixed up. Genre: Fluff POV: Second Warnings: None Word Count: 1.9k

—

The problem started a few days earlier with the occasional hitch in your step. Nothing serious or out of the ordinary, just an annoyance, but you made a note of it all the same for the next time you went to a mechanic. It progressed faster than expected, though. You could still compensate at the moment but it was getting harder and more painful to do so, and you could feel the difference not just between days but from when you started a shift to when you were done.

With growing anxiety, you were forced to accept this wasn’t something you could ignore or put off. Not that you had the money or anything worth bartering with to get it fixed immediately but this wasn’t sustainable. You couldn’t even say what was wrong, only that something was clearly not right.

In the meantime, you kept being a cog in the Shimmer empire. Officially your job was personal courier employed by a shell company of Silco’s in case anyone was sniffing around. Unofficially it was the same work but for the drug network instead. The irony of barely being able to walk while being colloquially known as a runner wasn’t lost on you.

It wasn’t thrilling work but at least it loosely put you under a chem-baron’s protection.

The Last Drop served as a central hub, the centre of a surprisingly vast network. You could and did take things directly between different outfits as needed but you assumed what you moved required a certain amount of oversight or keeping people in the loop. Not that you thought too hard about it—getting too curious is how you wound up with this job to begin with and you weren’t going to make the same mistake as your predecessor.

How often you appeared made you a familiar face no one noticed, background noise long since tuned out. It wasn’t unusual to be in and out in under a minute with only a few words exchanged. Not even the regulars tried talking to you anymore, which suited you just fine.

What was unusual, though, was Sevika roughly grabbing your upper arm while the bar keep was telling you where to go.

“The hell’s going on with you?” she hissed.

Without anything more specific, your only response was to give a quizzical, albeit alarmed, look.

“Don’t think I haven’t see you trying to hide that limp. You’ve been doing it every time you come in.” Her voice was a low growl and her vice-like grip on your arm was tightening. “If you can’t do your job…” The threat hung in the air.

Around you, a few people were watching the show with interest while others were acting too hard as if nothing was happening. The poor man behind the bar looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“Oh, that!” you blurted, recognizing what she was referring to. “My leg’s been acting up and I haven’t been able to get it checked out yet.” You give a half shrug with your free shoulder, playing it off as no big deal.

“… Why didn’t you say so? Follow me,” she said after searching your face and eyeing those watching. She let go and the sudden release sent blood you didn’t know was missing rushing back into the limb. That will be a nice bruise later you thought, flexing fingers as you trotted up stairs after her.

That’s how you found yourself in your Boss’ office with your superior hunched over your leg.

Various tools were spread out on the table that was also helping prop up your leg. The couch you sat on was plusher than you were used to and who even framed their paintings and hung them in such a lavish manner? The room itself even smelled important. Everything screamed you weren’t supposed to be here and your face must have reflected that.

“Relax, Silco’ll be out all day,” says Sevika, elbow-deep in machine guts.

“I’m not supposed to be up here.”

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s fine.”

“I was almost done for the day anyway. I’ll go.”

“Now that… that’s not fine,” she sighs with exasperation. You couldn’t feel it but you saw the way Sevika’s mechanical hand flexed around your metal shin, locking you in place if you tried to bolt. You were stuck here and it did nothing to calm you down. Sevika mutters to herself about something and grabs a different tool, seemingly forgetting you, but her hold doesn’t lessen just yet.

Without being able to leave and not having anything useful to say, all you can do is watch your senior deftly rummage around your leg. The rhythmic tapping of metal against metal, the occasional curse under the breath, and cigar smoke wafting in and out ends up lulling you into a trance despite your unease. Without noticing, you start to nod off.

You jolt awake when you notice Sevika fully turned on her stool as she looks pointedly at you.

“Uh, sorry. Say again?”

“I asked,” she turns back to do something with your ankle joint, “when did you get this?”

“Oh, a few years back.” You could still remember every detail from when that ceiling collapsed and crushed your lower leg. You could still feel it if you wanted to, not that you wanted to.

“Looks older than that.”

“Might be.” It definitely was. It had happened before you started working for Silco, back when you still lived in a particularly destitute part of Zaun and worked mines deemed too unsafe to work. Sevika lets it drop there and you’re glad for that. It’s not that you were still raw about the subject but you were used to snide comments about the tech, as if it was so easy to get where you’re from or you weren’t aware of how ancient it really was.

Silence on the matter instead of prodding questions was a nice change.

“Don’t you have to keep an eye on the bar?” you ask, realizing the time and not wanting to still be there when Silco returned.

“The others can handle it for now. It’s a slow day and won’t pick up until later,” she shrugs.

“Is that why you’re doing this? Boredom?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation but that’s how it comes out. Your stomach drops.

Sevika slowly turns to look at you, not quite believing what you said. Her harsh gaze alone is enough to lock you in place this time.

“I’m doing this because some fool thought they could still work despite barely being able to walk,” she snaps. “You put others at risk with your stunt and I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.” A dangerous energy hangs in the air.

“Sorry,” you mumble, averting your eyes and feeling redness crawl up your neck.

She huffs at that—at you—before turning back once again. You expect to be kicked out, fired, banned from the bar, something. People had lost their heads for less and there was no reason to think you were an exception.

But nothing happens. It still feels too combustible in the room, as if one wrong word would ignite everything, but it’s clear you’re allowed to stay.

Truthfully you’re glad for what Sevika was doing even if you would have preferred it to be somewhere else—even the leers and commentary from downstairs would have been better. You had never been mechanically inclined but even if you were, the prosthetic couldn’t be disconnected and working on it yourself required more flexibility than you possessed. You learned early on to grit your teeth and deal with any problems as they came up.

You had even had issues before while working for Silco. Not as serious as this but no one ever said anything, it’s why you thought you could get away with it this time. That and you had to keep working if you wanted to get it fixed, and it’s not like you could request desk duty in the meantime.

“Hey, Sevika,” you carefully broach once the tension dissipates enough.

“Hmm?”

“I just wanted to say thanks. Formally and all that. It would have been a bit before I could have seen someone.”

“You’d have been lucky to make it a couple more days without the whole thing giving out. Shit’s busted in multiple ways.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No shit. It’s more patch job than original.”

“Makes sense. I got it as a teen and it wasn’t new then.” It still amazed you that you got it at all when you thought about it. Prosthetics were a luxury where you grew up, it was far more common to see people missing body parts completely.

She gives a low whistle. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was old. Can’t say how much longer it will last.”

“It’s not like I can afford a new one,” you sigh, knowing how this conversation will go

“If those mechanics you’ve been seeing weren’t so eager to take your money, you could,” she says. “It’s clear there’s no point continually repairing it at this point.”

You frown at the idea you’ve been swindled all this time. It wasn’t like there was a new problem every month and obviously something so old with daily wear would have issues… It didn’t sit right but you couldn’t deny it either.

“I don’t mean to push,” Sevika continues, “but you really should consider a replacement.”

You only grunt. It’s not your fault the finances never work out.

“Besides, if you don’t I’ll have to pull you. Can’t have a courier who can’t walk.” She slaps the compartment shut in victory. “See how it feels.”

After carefully standing up, you tentatively see if it will even support you but it holds without complaint. Emboldened, you to risk a few steps, the catches and grinding you were used to were gloriously absent—your gait was smooth, the actuators properly adjusting.

And it held.

“It works!” you exclaim, unable to hide the grin on your face.

“You doubted me?” Sevika raises an eyebrow. Her posture is casual but her eyes are all business, assessing the result of her work.

“No!” you’re quick to respond but Sevika’s eyebrow only arches higher at the obvious lie. “Okay, maybe a bit,” you add sheepishly.

“It wasn’t easy,” Sevika responds with a chuckle. Deciding you weren’t going to fall over any time soon, she switches to the formality you were used to. “Come on, we should head back down. You aren’t done yet, either.” Without waiting for a response, she’s out the office door.

Back in the main area, the two of you go your separate ways. The bartender hands you a sealed folder for the second time and reminds you where to take it, unsure if you remembered. With new orders, you go to head out but not before giving Sevika a small nod—she’s back at her usual table—but she barely glances at you. What she does do, however, is give a brief swirl of whatever was in her glass. It was small and might have been coincidence but you want to think it was a response.

Out on the street, you allow yourself to smile. You weren’t done for the day and the sun was already setting behind the evening haze but a growing weight had been lifted.

—

A/N: So many Mechanic!Reader fics about fixing Sevika’s arm and Mechanic!Sevika AUs, how about one where she fixes Reader? That’s it, that was my thought process.

[animereaderinsertwriter]

part one - two - three - four -five

i saw you in a dream (bucky barnes x reader)

tags/warnings: plot with porn, fluff, a little angst, there is some mild amnesia, major plot twist, first person (bucky's) pov, inspired by this song

blurb: In this life and every life; waking and dreaming; this I swear.

These are the words inscribed on Bucky's wedding ring. A wedding ring that he doesn't remember ever having. It's not a vow he made-- not that he remembers, anyway-- but it might just be one that he decides to keep anyway.

ao3 here

“I’ve decided to call off of work for a while,” my wife explains to me over breakfast. “I’d rather be around if you need me than be at work, and we’ve got ample savings to live off of in the meantime.”

I ask her if she’s sure about that— I don’t really need a babysitter, I’ve already gotten over my meltdown about this whole thing— but she assures me that she believes it’s the right decision.

“What do you do for work, then, that they let you have time off so easy?”

She hesitates.

“I work for Tony Stark,” she replies after a moment. “As it stands, though, he’s got an excellent team, so they can share the load of whatever I’m leaving behind. Besides, it’s time I took a vacation.”

She’s keeping something from me, but I let it slide.

“Babysitting me is hardly a vacation.”

She shoots me a sly grin over her cup of coffee.

“Who said I was babysitting? Keep up the sass and I’ll call Dolores to sit with you while I go to Bali.”

I’m startled into a laugh.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? Try me, soldier boy.”

There is a strange energy between us that makes me feel oddly playful. I want to forget about eggs and bacon and chase her around the house instead.

Gradually, though, that energy fades as we run out of things to talk about. Awkwardness subsumes us again, and since I cooked, (Y/N) offers to wash dishes, presumably to escape the weight of the silence between us.

About an hour of that tension is all either of us can stand. 

“I’m going downstairs to train,” she says, throwing a bar cloth over her shoulder. “Would you like to join me?”

I blink.

“We have a downstairs?”

“Yes— a basement.” A fond smile comes over her face. “You designed it yourself.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“I did?”

“Oh yes.” She grins. “Come on, dear— I’ll give you the tour. You’ll love it.”

She walks past me just close enough for me to feel the heat from her body, but does not touch me. She keeps going just long enough for me to see the full length of her figure, then turns back to throw at me a mischievous look over her shoulder. 

“Well? Coming?”

She keeps walking, and I keep staring. This time, though, I grin. This hint of playfulness gets a rise out of me not unlike the one from before, and I realize that this must be what normal is for us.

What a fox.

Like a hound dog wagging his tail, I move to follow her. This, if nothing else, should prove interesting.

***

Three and a half hours later, I’m sore, sweaty, and I can’t feel my face.

To be fair, we’ve only been working for most of three hours. The majority of the first hour was spent on rediscovery— and what an hour it was! Not only did I apparently stock most of the cool machines I’d used in Wakanda, but there were also some things I’d never seen before, such as the combat simulator that Shuri had apparently gifted me last year for my birthday. (Y/N) warned me that it felt real, but I didn’t believe her until those nerve stimulators of Shuri’s mimicked exactly the feeling of a bullet ripping through my shoulder. It’s unpredictable, the simulator; it generates combat scenarios at random, and not every conflict ends well even if you do everything by the book. It’s a genius invention, and I spend an hour and a half on that alone.

As fascinating as the combat simulator is, though, it doesn’t hold a candle to what comes next.

While I rest from playing with all my (new) gadgets, my wife has been working slowly and steadily, alternating between lifting weights and training with a punching bag. She’s sweating heavily, and she looks pretty fatigued, but she keeps at it with a determination that reminds me of Steve. Eventually, though, she sits down to rest too, and between gulps of water, she says,

“Spar with me.”

“What?”

The word comes out as a laugh. She smirks.

“Laugh now, Sergeant Barnes, but I learned from the best.”

“Oh yeah?” I challenge playfully. “Who?”

Her smile is radiant and warm; it feels like a house fire in my chest.

“You.”

My heart skips a beat. 

She thinks I’m the best.

It’s a stupid thought, perhaps even a silly one, but it’s there. Even so, looking at her now, moving to stand with her hair all mussed and her face all sweaty, I know I can’t seriously spar with her. 

At least, that’s what I think until she whirls a kick at my head, forcing me to block it with my forearm.

“I said,” she pants, baring her teeth in a feline grin, “spar with me.”

The word no had been on the tip of my tongue— but I’ve never been one to leave a blow unanswered.

I grin back, and the game is on.

I launch myself from my seat, aiming to use my size to my advantage and grapple her— safely, gently, of course— to the ground. All my arms catch is air. She bounds lightly backwards, as graceful as a dancer, and holds her hands up in a ready position. 

After I aim a few hits at her, missing each one, I realize her strategy. I’m bigger, stronger than her, sure, but it takes a lot more for my muscles to move my larger body than it does hers. She’s baiting me into my strikes, hoping to fatigue me before she presses what then will be her advantage. I adjust accordingly. I feint left, but move right— the motion traps her as my metal metal hand closes around her soft flesh. I think I have her until she uses the same momentum that I use to pull her to me to bash her forehead against the bridge of my nose, stunning me. She wrenches free and tries to sweep my feet, but I’m too sturdy for her. Instead, she falls with the motion, and I follow her to the floor in an unsightly but effective crawl to try and close the distance between us for a grapple. She doesn’t make it to her feet before I’m on her, and I know it’s game over now.

Size for size, strength for strength, I’ll win.

Surprisingly, though, she still makes me work for it.

In an impressive show of agility, she rolls away from me before I can grab her— but not before aiming a kick at my temple that, had it landed, might have been deadly. Frustrated, I make a grab at the foot that kicked at me, and she stomps my fleshy hand with her heel— meet punishment for the pettiness of my grab. Truly irritated now, and in sorry pain, I get my feet underneath me and throw myself at her once more.

She rolls again, and my hand misses her arm by only half an inch. In fact, she almost makes it to her feet before I finally latch both arms around her waist and bring her down hard. I win the ensuing scramble; only a few seconds pass before I have her pinned beneath me, my hands circling her wrists and forcing them to the ground beside her head. Her legs are pinned open by my knees, and I grin in fierce triumph.

“I win,” I say, and I know my expression must be wild with joy.

Her expression doesn’t exactly match mine, though. Her eyes are wide, her lips are parted, and…

And her chest, slightly exposed and pressed forth by her raised arms, is heaving.

The world slows. My awareness narrows to just the places where our bodies are touching, which is… a lot of places. My heart is racing, I can’t catch my breath— and neither can my wife. My wife, who is panting, sweaty, and beautiful, whose soft thighs are on either side of mine, and whose eyes say she wants me to close all the distance that there is between us.

“Bucky.”

She breathes my name like a sigh, and I know that in this moment, I’ll do whatever she asks of me. 

“Bucky,” she repeats, “I think— I think I need to shower.”

That’s… not what I wanted to hear.

I let her up. She dusts off like it’s nothing, but I can see the tremble in her limbs. She’s fatigued beyond fatigue, utterly exhausted— and so, I find, am I. On unsteady legs, I move to follow her, then stop.

“Eat something,” I tell her belatedly, uselessly. “I mean, to keep your strength up, you should probably eat.”

She turns. Her smile is sad.

“Thanks Buck, darling. I will.”

And thus, like a newborn fawn, she stumbles out of the room on shaky legs, leaving me to stand in humiliating silence with a raging hard-on and nothing to do with it.

***

While (Y/N) showers, I raid the kitchen. 

My own shower was short and cold. I took it in the guest room, which is just as richly furnished as the rest of the house. It wasn’t the best shower I’ve ever taken, though, since I wouldn’t exactly call it refreshing. I came out of it just as I came into it— tired, frustrated, and hungry.

One of those things can be fixed quick, fast, and in a hurry by an enterprising guy like me, though, and I place my bets on the fridge as I crack it open for a peek at its treasures.

There is everything imaginable in that refrigerator. So much that I have a hard time choosing anything at all. I settle on boiled eggs, string cheese, and an apple to start, and when that doesn’t do the trick, I manage to put together the ingredients for a simple but flavorful soup.

By the time (Y/N) returns from her shower, the soup is finished and there’s a bowl cooling for her on the counter. I serve it to her myself when she comes into the kitchen, and she thanks me tiredly as she sits at the dining room table.

“This is good.” She blows on the steaming spoonful she’s scooped up. “Thank you.”

I shrug.

“Sure thing.”

Once she’s done, I take her bowl and clean up. Her eyes are drooping sleepily, and I have to work to hide my smile from her as she yawns cutely.

“Wanda, Nat, and Bruce want to go out tonight,” she sighs tiredly, looking at her phone. “They’ve invited us, if you’re interested— although, just so you know, they likely have selfish intentions for asking us to come.”

I cock my head to the side in question. My wife blinks blearily, then clarifies.

“You can’t get drunk, so you always DD.”

“Not selfish, then.” I laugh, “just common sense.”

“Mm, maybe. Wanda gets weepy when she’s drunk, and Bruce gets cornier. Natasha stays Natasha, but sometimes her languages become… interesting.”

“And you?”

She grins.

“I have no idea what you mean. I’m a delight, as usual, even when I’m drunk.”

Oh, I can translate that pretty easily. My money says she’s worse than all three of them combined.

“So,” she continues, “you in or out?”

I consider declining— (Y/N) seems too sleepy now to go out later in the day— but then I remember our sparring earlier and decide that, super-soldier-ness be damned, a drink might be a good idea after all.

“I’m down. You sure you’re not too tired? We worked hard earlier.”

“I’ll nap,” she yawns. 

I continue cleaning up, and she shuffles in the direction of the master bedroom with a muffled thanks for the food.

A little while later, I settle in on the couch and very politely pretend that I can’t hear the distinct buzz of a vibrator through the walls as my wife, on the other side, softly calls my name, doubtless thinking me unable to hear. 

Damn that super soldier serum. Never did me any damn good. 

***

I’ve never taken so long to dress in my life.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like I completely fried my brain looking at the wardrobe in front of me. There are… there are colors here. Colors and designs and textures— how the fuck am I supposed to match any of this to anything else? I have half a mind to ask (Y/N) for guidance. However, the other half of my mind would insist that I jump off a bridge before resorting to having her dress me like I’m some kind of doll, so instead of looking at the clothes and continuing to overwhelm myself, I move to look at myself in the mirror and try to imagine an outfit that I would like.

While I’m scrutinizing myself trying to find the best outfit, I realize that my hair is different than I remember it. It’s still long, but there are more layers. I like it, I think. It makes me look cleaner, sharper. 

I finally settle on a black button-up and a pair of jeans. There’s a jewelry box on the dresser that I found my socks and underwear in, and I open it to find jewelry that must belong to me: a couple medals (Jesus, they’re old!), a silver chain, and a set of cufflinks.

There is also a wedding ring.

I lift the wedding ring and examine it. There is an inscription looping on the inside of it that reads,

In this life and every life; waking and dreaming; this I swear.

I consider putting it on my finger, but I decide against it. I haven’t earned the right to wear it— not yet. I have no right to my wife; as I am, I can’t be what she needs. I’ll need to wait until I can prove to her and to myself that I can still make her happy before I can feel right about it.

I place the ring back in the jewelry box and try not to feel disappointed.

I pick up the silver chain. It might be a nice addition to the outfit, I think. I put it on, stare at it, then take it off. I peer at myself, sigh, then put it back on. 

It’ll have to do.

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I finally manage to meet my wife in the living room, ready to head out. I make it halfway through the threshold to the living room before my jaw hits the floor.

Her dress is champagne gold with a perfectly-draped neckline that I feel sure makes my eyes bulge out in cartoonish heart shapes. The thin straps of the halter neckline settle pleasingly over her shoulders, and when she turns, I thank God for every roll, dimple, and contour of her back. Her long, delicate earrings brush her shoulders as she turns back to me, and I decide then and there that it’s over for me. There’s no way I’m not going to spend every minute of every day trying to make this dame happy for the rest of my life. Greek statues would be jealous of such a beauty. Hell, I don’t discriminate— statues of every race, color, and creed can eat their hearts out. They could never compare to her.

“Hey handsome. Whatcha think? Will I do?”

My approval must be obvious; she smiles cheeky and adds,

“It has pockets!”

To show me, she sticks her hands in them. The motion makes her breasts jiggle prettily, and I fix my gaze on the light fixtures in the ceiling trying to will away the urge to peel that fucking dress off of her with my teeth like I have any right whatsoever to do so. 

I really don’t know what the hell’s come over me. I feel like a hound-dog slavering over a fox. I’ve always loved women— who doesn’t?— but this feels… different. I ache for her in a way that makes me want to crack open her rib cage and live there.

“You look great.” My mouth is dry. I clear my throat. “Really great. I feel a little underdressed, looking at you. I can change, though, if you— ”

She grabs my arm, right on the muscle of my bicep.

“Don’t you dare,” she murmurs, looking up at me through her lashes. “If you look any better, I’ll have to keep a baseball bat around to beat the women off of you.”

She squeezes my bicep, then releases me, her expression subdued.

Was that… jealousy? 

Interesting.

I offer her my arm— the metal one. She takes it, and I try not to feel smug.

“Ready?”

She smiles, nods, and accepts the arm I offer— but not before glancing at it and frowning. I frown too, confused about what might have displeased her, but there’s nothing I can figure out before we’re loading up in what is apparently my Jeep Wrangler. She directs me to each of our friends’ houses— “Wanda last,” she insists, “to give her time to put the kids to bed”—and then to the nightclub Natasha likes.  

The club is nice— the whole place looks like the inside of a lava lamp— but it’s full to the brim with sweating, drunk, scantily-clad people who all seem to feel entitled to touch everyone else. I personally don’t have any interest in that sort of thing, especially not this grinding business that looks little better than public dry-humping. Back in the day, I’d be spinning girls all around the dancefloor; I’d keep them on the floor until their feet hurt and even after. Now, though? I wouldn’t be caught dead doing… whatever that stuff is.

Well, if (Y/N) asked for a dance, I’d do my best. Anybody worth their salt would know better than to say no to a dame like her. But the thing is… she doesn’t ask me.

“I’m going to dance for a while,” she yells at me over the sound of the music. “Are you good here?”

“Peachy,” I shout back, propping my feet up on a rung of the barstool I’ve claimed. “Have fun, beautiful.”

Her smile glows in the blue-green light, and then she’s gone with Wanda and Natasha, who seem just as eager to dance.

Out of politeness, Bruce hangs out with me at the bar for a little while and we talk shop— S.W.O.R.D’s research and operations, Steve’s programs there— but it’s clear that he wants to dance as well. Before long, I send him off with a clap on the shoulder for encouragement, and then I’m alone at the bar, sipping surprisingly good whiskey.

A while later, a woman sidles up beside me to order a drink. I turn to look at her. She’s a dark-haired beauty with skin the color of polished bronze and hair like big, dark, fluffy clouds. Her lips are full, and they glitter with reflective golden gloss.

“Hi!” She greets me as we make eye contact. “You’re super handsome, oh my God!” 

I blink.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Say, do you wanna dance?”

“No can do. I’m here with my wife.”

The response is automatic. I shock myself with it. For a guy that’s only been married less than forty-eight hours, I’m coming to find that the “nope, I’ve got a wife” instinct sure does kick in fast.

“Oh my bad king! Have a good night!”

She turns to go, but I reach out and grab her arm.

“Wait, wait!” Jesus, fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve got to be the stupidest man alive… but this might just be what I need. “I… think I might need some advice. Do you know stuff about relationships?”

She purses her lips in thought, then nods her head.

“Bad ones, yeah. Good ones, not so much. Also, babe, I’m a little drunk so I dunno how useful I’ll be to you right now.”

“That’s fine.” Reconnaissance, I tell myself. This is just simple reconnaissance. “You mind if we talk a minute?”

“I don’t mind at all! Yap away!”

I tell her the important bits and leave out the stuff she probably shouldn’t know.

“Like I said, I just feel like I barely know her anymore, but I… I want to try and make it better. She’s good to me, and I want to be good to her. Plus, the chemistry is…” I think back to that sly smile, the press of her thighs against mine. “Off the charts. I just wanna be the man she fell in love with.”

Lani— that’s my new friend’s name— nods thoughtfully. 

“And you say you’ve only been back stateside for a couple days?”

I nod and feel a little guilty using someone else’s war for my white lie. Still, though, I don’t know what all my excuses would consist of if there was only peacetime in recent years.

“Then this is just relationship throat-clearing,” Lani tells me confidently, throwing back the shot I bought her. “Ack— that’s strong. But yeah, it’s just a phase. If you wanna speed stuff up, I recommend physical touch. Not the sex kind, you understand— just hold her. Your bodies have probably done a little forgetting even if your minds haven’t. Might be a good idea to start there.”

“But how do I initiate it without coming off.. weird?”

Lani and I talk for a long time. I lose track of how long. Before I know it, it’s been two hours, and I look up to realize that I haven’t seen my wife in that amount of time. I look around, but I don’t see her.

“Don’t worry,” Lani is telling me, “You seem like a good guy, and you’re trying. If she loves you, you’ll work it out just fine.”

A weird look comes over her face, and she adds, “Besides, if I’m guessing correctly… she’s definitely still burning hot for you, king, so good luck out there.”

I turn back to her and thank her sincerely. She pats me on the shoulder and thanks me in turn for the drinks. It’s only right, she insists, that her bad experiences should serve to help someone else prevent them. With that, she’s off, and I’m sitting by myself once more.

Tired now, but armed with a good strategy, I stand, stretching my legs. I scan the dancefloor for my wife, but I don’t see her in the immediate vicinity. When I do catch sight of her, I wish I hadn’t— her eyes are all molten fury as she squishes her way through the crowd of dancing bodies. Whatever has happened tonight, she’s not happy about it, that’s for damn sure. Still determined to act on the advice I was given, I start to make my way toward her, but before I can get very far, I see someone grab my wife’s arm and yank— hard. She stumbles, and I catch sight of the person who’s holding her. 

It’s a man. A large, scruffy-looking man with a look of trouble about him.

I start to shove through people faster.

(Y/N) tries to snatch her arm back, fails. She’s clearly a bit drunk, and stumbles when he yanks her over to him. I’m two strides away, but not close enough to help before the situation explodes.

My wife, full of righteous fury from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head, rares back and punches the guy straight in his ugly face. 

He lets her go then, but people start screaming and the crowd jostles me away from her. I’m trying very hard not to lose my patience and start swinging my elbows— I could kill someone like that with my level of strength— but I’m starting not to care as I watch her use her fists like hammers on the guy’s skull. I’ve seen shit like this among soldiers before, back in the day. She’s drunk, she’s angry— and, judging by how long she lasted against me sparring, she’ll catch a fucking manslaughter charge if I don’t intervene soon. 

I scream her name above the din, but she doesn’t hear me. Her knee connects with Ugly Guy’s nose, and I finally break free from the people-prison that had me trapped. 

“Hey!” I call out to her, reaching for her arm. “Baby, hey, he’s had it, okay, you made your—”

She whirls on me, and I catch hell in the form of a cupped hand smacking painfully against my ear.

“Stay the fuck out of this,” she snarls at me, vicious and cruel. “I’m not done here.”

Oh, but she is. I can be every bit as vicious and every bit as cruel as she can be, and I prove it by grabbing her from the back and putting her in a metal-armed headlock.

“Stand down, babygirl,” I growl close to her ear. “You don’t want to kill him.”

“I do,” she confesses darkly, struggling vainly against me. “I want his bleeding heart in my hands!”

“Then not here, not now.” Bouncers have finally noticed the commotion— too late, sadly. They’re heading for us, but I keep my voice level and calm. “Behave or I swear to God I won’t let anyone bail you out of jail.”

“You have no right to command me!” She thrashes in my arms like a trapped animal. “Let me go, asshole!”

“I have every right.” I tighten the lock.

“Says… who?”

“Says this.” I tighten my arm more, and she wheezes like a squeaky toy with the squeaker ripped out. “Now behave. I don’t wanna go to jail.”

And, let’s be real— if that stupid, ugly fuck decides to raise his hand to her even in self defense, it’ll be both of us sitting in a jail cell. I’d kill him for it.

I let her go then, and she stumbles, clutching at her throat and gasping for air. I feel an instant flash of regret, but I have no time to process it before I’m gathering her in my arms and promising the bouncers that we didn’t start it, but that we’re leaving so as not to cause more trouble. They look at us skeptically, but decide that we’re apparently not worth the trouble and send us on our way. 

Natasha and Bruce catch up with us at the doorway. They saw the whole thing, apparently, and had the same trouble I did with trying to reach (Y/N) before she caused more trouble for herself and us. 

“You guys go on home,” says Natasha, a strange look in her eyes. “We’ll catch up with Wanda and we’ll all get an Uber home when we’re ready.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, desperate for an answer in the affirmative.

“Yes, we’re sure,” Bruce says, placing a reassuring hand on my wife's shoulder. “We all get mad sometimes— and sometimes, we all need a break.”

If Bruce Banner tells you that you need to take a chill pill, you take one. 

And so that’s how my wife and I end up parked in our garage, staring straight ahead at the wall in absolute silence. I’m lost in thought, pondering how such a promising evening went to shit so fast, when (Y/N) breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry I hit you.” Her voice wavers a bit. “And that I called you an asshole. I was just so mad…”

She’s fighting tears. I want to stretch out my hand to her, but I don’t know that the gesture would be welcome.

“S’okay. You had a right to be mad at that guy. He was a total creep.”

She shakes her head.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t mad at him. I mean, I was, but not initially.”

I turn to her, but she’s staring straight ahead, jaw clenched. With great effort, I keep my voice gentle.

“What happened? Why were you angry, then?”

Her lower lip trembles.

“I really don’t want to talk about this right now, Bucky.”

It’s not the answer I wanted, but it is an answer I will accept.

“That’s okay. We’ll talk about it later.” I think for a minute, then add, “Also, I’m sorry for putting you in a headlock and then insinuating that I have a right to order you around.”

She huffs a laugh.

“I deserved it. All you did was keep me from making a pretty big mistake.”

“Still,” I insist, “I was meaner than I would have liked, and rougher too. I’m sorry.”

“Bucky, please don’t apologize— not for this. It was the right call.”

“But I am sorry it had to happen that way. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

To my shame, there is still a red line at her neck where my arm pressed against it. It’s not bruised or anything, but the mark itself shames me.

My wife turns to me, rigid and acerbic. She says,

“James Buchanan Barnes, I have begged on my actual knees for the same thing you did this evening and worse for my own, selfish… lascivious reasons. When I tell you that no apology is necessary, I mean it. You have nothing to apologize for. No touch from you could ever be too rough for me.”

The implication she just made— that she enjoyed being in a headlock, that she… gets off on that rough and ready side of me— lays heavily between us. 

I’m utterly speechless.

“Ugh, I’m still fucking drunk,” she groans. “Don’t listen to me. I’m going to bed.” 

She clambers out of the Jeep and makes her way into the house. I sit there for a minute to process, then turn the car off and follow her inside.

By the time I make it in, the water to the main shower is running. With a loose plan in mind, I undress down to my boxers and slip between the covers of our shared bed adjacent to the bathroom and wait for her to finish. 

Then my hearing picks up on something I’m not supposed to hear— a whispered phone call that is meant to be masked by the running water of the shower, but isn’t.

“I don’t know, Shuri.” My wife is saying, her voice thick with tears. “He may wake up tomorrow and remember everything. No, the tests won’t be back for— oh stop that, you know we don’t have Wakanda’s resources. No, I don’t think international travel is a good— Shuri! Listen to me, he’s okay. Why am I so emotional then? Why do you think! Because— ” there is a pause, a shuddering breath, then, “Well, I’ve made a fool of myself. Oh, Shuri, what a jealous fool I’ve been!”

(Y/N) recounts the evening as she remembers it, and I am horrified to discover her version of events. Right off the bat, I apparently managed to fuck up by not wearing my wedding ring— apparently she saw that as a sign of rejection and not the show of respect I had intended it to be. That pain, of course, exacerbated the jealousy she describes to Shuri as me openly flirting with and buying drinks for a hot, drunk chick— a jealousy that she thinks she doesn’t even have a right to feel because I’m no longer hers— or at least that’s what she thinks I seem to think.

This account paints me in a terrible light indeed. I feel physically ill listening to all of my actions being laid out and twisted into something they were never meant to be.

“I can’t even be mad at him, Shuri,” she cries, a terrible, aching sound that wrenches my heart and roils in my gut. “It’s not his fault— he doesn’t even know me. And— I mean, yeah, I know he saw the ring ‘cause he had on the necklace, so he had to have looked in— ugh, don’t distract me! My point is, what if he never remembers? He— he may want to leave. No, I won’t stop him— I want him to be happy, even if it’s not with me. I just— I love him, Shuri. If he leaves, it will break my heart.”

I keep listening , but those words bounce around in my brain. 

If he leaves, it will break my heart.

“I don’t even think he thinks I’m pretty anymore. When he saw me in my cute little dress— you know, the gold one with the pockets?— he looked up at the ceiling as if he’d rather look at anything else. Oh, Shuri, it’s over. It’s hopeless!”

It’s all I can do not to bust the bathroom door down and correct every misconception she has. Instead, I bide my time, resting my eyes and my body as she finishes her phone call and her shower. She needs this time and space, so I give it to her until the water shuts off and she makes her way to the bedroom where I lay in apparent sleep.

(Y/N) steps softly up to the bed, then hesitates. I’m willing to bet she’s contemplating sleeping in the guest room. Without opening my eyes, I say,

“Don’t be shy. There’s plenty of room.”

Gingerly, she climbs into bed. She settles as far from me as she can get— an admittedly respectful distance in a circumstance such as this one. Still, I’m unsatisfied. 

“You can stay there if you’d like,” I tell her, “but I’ll feel terrible if you fall off.”

She doesn’t move. It’s remarkable how quiet her crying is, but I can feel the sadness radiating off of her in waves.

I sit up. 

“Hey.” I open my arm— the metal one— up to her. “Come here.”

She shakes her head.

“You don’t have to do this, Bucky,” she sniffles. “You— you’re really not obligated to comfort me. If anything, I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

“Why?” I ask. “I’m not the one who’s lost anything. From where I’m sitting, I’ve only stood to gain. I have a home, friends, and a beautiful wife where I used to have none of those things. But you… you’ve lost a husband.”

She covers her face with her hand, and I take it upon myself to close the distance between us. I pull her to me, and she buries her face in my chest while she cries.

“I’m sorry,” she says, over and over. “I’m sorry…..”

I soothe her as best I can. I rub circles into her back and hold her close. When she shifts awkwardly, I grab Kleenex from the nightstand and let her blow her nose. The whole time, I take Lani’s advice and don’t let her get more than three inches away from me. 

When she’s calmer, I begin to speak. I start with what I feel should be the most obvious fact that she has misunderstood.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” I tell her firmly, brushing hair away from her face. “I’ve seen a lot of women in a lot of places all around the world and even outside of it, and to me, you beat the hell out of all of them. When I saw you in that dress, it was all I could do to keep my hands off of you and go back to whatever it was we were doing in the basement earlier.”

My wife blinks owlishly. I don’t wait for her to respond before I press on.

“But,” I continue, “I kept my hands to myself because I haven’t earned that yet. I’m stumbling in the dark here with no clue what I’m doing— I’m not the man you married. At least, not yet. But I’m trying to be. I want to be him. That’s why I didn’t wear my wedding ring. I wanted to be worthy of it— worthy of you— before I put it on. In retrospect, I’m realizing I must have seemed like an asshole by not wearing it— even further from the man you know and love.”

“Oh Bucky,” she sighs, tears streaming down her face, “you really are the man I married, even if you don’t know it, you sneaky, conniving, eavesdropping bastard. You listened to my phone call with Shuri, didn’t you?”

I turn pink from the top of my chest to the tips of my ears. 

“That depends on how mad you’ll be if I say yes.”

She lets out a snotty giggle that’s stupidly cute.

“S’what I get for marrying an assassin and a spy,” she smiles through her tears. “Go on, dear— you might as well finish up. You’d better have a jam-up excuse for letting that girl fawn over you all night, or I’ll still be cross with you.”

I shrug.

“That one’s easy. I was asking her for advice about you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She’s quiet for a long time after that. I keep handing her tissues and she keeps blowing her nose until the fount of her tears finally dries up.

“So?” I probe gently, taking her hand in mine, “Am I forgiven?”

“Of course.” She squeezes my hand. “It’s me who should be asking for forgiveness— I should have trusted you to start with.”

I shake my head with a grin.

“My wife can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned. Even when she does something wrong, I’ve got to assume that it’s my fault somehow.”

“Bucky,” she laughs. I lean my forehead against hers and decide to press my luck.

“Can I kiss you? I’ve wanted to since we sparred earlier, and I think it would go a long way towards soothing any ruffled— mph.” 

Her lips are soft against mine. She kisses me once, twice— and then I deepen the kiss, adjusting our bodies until my hand is threaded through her hair, forming a cup around her skull as we kiss deeply, unhurriedly, as though we have all the time in the world. Her hands roam and so do mine, and in this slow, sensual exploration, I am completely, utterly lost. 

Selfishly, I want more. I want to pull my wife into my lap and let her feel what she does to me— I want to kiss and touch her and make her feel good— but Lani had advised me against this temptation.

“If you give in too soon, somehow sex and intimacy become the same thing, which… they aren’t,” she’d told me. “She needs one much, much more than the other, and I’ll give you a hint— it’s not sex. Trust me, even if it feels right in the moment, it won’t later. It’ll feel transactional. That's the worst possible outcome, ‘cause when it comes down to it, there’s always a better deal somewhere else. Give her safety, though, and she’ll always be yours.”

So that’s what I do. I hold her and kiss her and touch her until she’s tired, and then I tuck her into my chest and wait until her breathing evens out to close my own eyes and sleep.

[daphwritesworld]

Every possible established couple out of that foursome would be the hottest thing ever, how are you meant to decide which one?! 🥵

Like from your words alone I'd say Reader and Alessia are obviously not the already established couple and are the more shy but eager ones, typically I'd go with Alessia x Leah as the couple because it would make sense since they play for England and I love this duo BUT imagine the way everyone would lose their mind if Alessia x McCabe were together? The shy, gentle and puppy like Lessi with the cocky, argumentative McCabe?! Fuckkkkk

Feel like there would be a lot of edging for a while to get them worked up, get R and Alessia right to where they want them and then when they thinking that's all their getting, they'd overwhelm them with orgasms

I'm picturing Alessia and R being more shy to be shared, clinging to their girlfriends at first while someone else touches them. Unsure what to do with themselves until they turn to each other and start sinking into each other, moaning into each other's mouths tentatively and before they know it they're humping at each other like they're in heat.

So many thoughts

-🧠

SEE YOU GET ME.

i’m always down for a Leah x Lessi pairing….but McCabe x Lessi ??? 🤭 GIRRRLLLLL!!!!!!

i get the feeling the reader & Alessia are good friends on the team. usually doing drills together when needing to team up and leaving their girlfriend to fend for themselves. that’s how it starts— Leah and Katie pairing up out of force tbh. but they quickly stop pouting about being left by their significant others when they realize just how much fun they can have together. Leah and Katie have a competitive friendship at heart, seeing who can do drills faster, better, and god knows what else. they also both seem to get distracted by their hot sexy girlfriend’s about 50 times every practice session. which inevitably leads to them trying to compete in other areas of their lives. it starts small— a passing comment from McCabe about how she had Lessi cumming 4 times after their win. oh and that makes Leah pipe up about how she had reader squirting in her mouth after the 5th orgasm she gave her that same night. and that’s how they start the idea of having a competition….a sex race you could say. they get a months time and whoever can give their girl the most orgasms wins. im talking they’re on their phone texting as soon as the rounds over, “make that 10–8 Williamson” and a nice reply not even 20 minutes later “12-10 eat my dust McCabe 🖕🏻”

that leads to both of their girlfriends growing suspicious. i mean they appreciate all of the orgasms, but every single day?? and the sneaking on their phone every single time after sex?? yeah they’re confused, concerned, and worried their girlfriends have some sex addiction they’ve been keeping under wraps until now. it isn’t until they start confiding in each other at practice that they realize something is definitely up, so they make a plan. i’m thinking they both run off to the locker rooms first— grabbing their girlfriends’ phones before going into a shower stall to investigate. idk where i’ll take it from there but 🤭 it will escalate to the best extent.

but once they’ve worked out the plan and they get into that room? GOOD GOD OL MIGHTY. Lessi and Reader are definitely shy at first. hiding their faces with their hands, not wanting to make any noises so they bite their lips. red rosy cheeks and hesitant hands as they let themselves relax more from their girlfriend’s touches. once they’ve worked up the courage to finally look at each other— the connection is instant. they’re reaching out, holding onto each other for support as they’re being taken apart right next to each other. “Y-You look really pretty, Lessi,” it’s said so softly reader’s not even sure the other girl heard it. oh but she does, and it has Alessia leaning forward so close her breath is fanning against reader’s lips. “So do you,” and her cheeks are turning darker. and before they know it they’re sinking into each other..kissing, moaning, groping each other’s bodies as they’re girlfriends swap places. they don’t even notice at first— too caught up in each other to even realize they’re building orgasms had dwindled down.

anyways i’ll stop myself now before i actually ruin the whole fic 🤣

[swtt4hk]

You and I || Cho Sangwoo x fem!Reader (Fluff) [enemies to lovers] PART ONE

author’s note: this was inspired by a story I made with this character on c.ai…enjoy!

You recently got a job at a fish market to get some extra money since you don’t get paid enough from your first job. You worked for a lady called mrs Hye-jin who was really nice to you and absolutely adored you. Even if the job was not a nice one , mrs Hye-jin made it more enjoyable with her jokes and cheerful personality.

Her son , on the other side , is the absolute opposite. He is cold and often rude , especially with you. He finds your kind and cheerful personality annoying and always makes sure for you to know it how much he despises you.

You despise him too. You hate his cold gaze and how he never smiles. It pisses you off whenever he insults you but you’ve both gotten used to the bickering , it has become a routine.

Today you’re arguing because you tripped and accidentally spilled coffee all over his shirt. Even though his mom said that it’s okay because she has an extra shirt for Sang-woo at the back of the store , Sang-woo got irritated by your clumsiness.

—are you serious? This shirt was expensive and you ruined it because you don’t look where you’re going!

—I’ve already apologised a hundred times , why don’t you just forgive me and move on?! Besides , you make enough money to buy a new one and your mom will give you a new one , it’s not like you’ll go outside with the coffee stain on your shirt!

—but it’s still ruined , thanks to you! And I’m NOT spending my money on a new shirt , I’ve got other things to pay for. You should buy me a new one or at least give me the money to buy a new one!

—what?! Where’d I find the money to buy you a new one?! What am I an ATM?!

—I don’t see how that’s MY problem…

He says and walks away. You’re trying your best not to start screaming or start throwing things at him. His mom on the other side is loving the banter between you two. She always tells you that there’s definitely something behind it and that arguing is a way of bonding with someone and that it will turn into love and affection. You and Sang-woo get pissed off when she says that it will turn into love and affection. Whenever she says that , Sang-woo gets pissed off and tells her to stop and you’re gently trying to explain to her that you and her son will never be together. The only thing you feel about each other is hate. Nothing else.

Later that day , you’re in the storage room organising some stuff and you accidentally overhear a conversation between Sang-woo and mrs Hye-jin…

—come on , Sang-woo , just give the girl a chance! She’s kind , smart and positive , what else would you want?

—mom , you don’t understand. I don’t want to give this girl a chance! I find this “kindness” thing fake and her cheerful personality? Ugh it’s so annoying , she’s acting like everything’s sparkles and rainbows. Not to mention her clumsiness…she doesn’t even watch where she goes , how could I go on a date with her? She’ll embarrass me.

—what are you talking about , son?! Is that how I raised you?! Y/n is genetically a kind girl and maybe her cheerful personality would help you enjoy life more. As for her clumsiness, it was just one time , don’t make a big deal out of nothing. Give her a chance!

—no!

—please , son , all I’m asking for is to take her out one time! You never know what your relationship turn into!

—mom , I don’t wanna take her on a date and I believe neither does she want to go out with me , so it’s a no. Conversation over.

Sang-woo walks out of the store and his mom follows him outside , still trying to convince him to take you out. You chuckle behind the door. It reminds you of a mom trying to convince a kindergarten kid to eat its vegetables. But deep down you feel a pang of disappointment…why would he not wanna go on a date with you? You’re pretty , smart and kind. Besides , you’ve tried being nice to him a couple of times but he keeps being a jerk. “His loss” you think to yourself.

You come out of the storage room and you go behind the register , just in case a customer comes. Then , Sang-woo comes in sighing and his mom is behind him.

—come on! Tell her!

She whispers and pushes him near you. You’re trying to hold your laugh at the whole situation.

—hey Sang-woo , what happened?

You say in a slightly teasing tone. You know damn well that it gets under his skin when you tease him. He sighs again and looks down before speaking.

—let’s go out tomorrow night.

He mutters , audibly enough for you to hear.

—wait what did you say? Say that a little louder.

You purposely say to piss him off.

—you heard what I said. At 7pm , in front of the store.

He says and leaves the store without even saying a goodbye.

—ts…so rude.

His mom looks at him disappearing in the dark and then you. She takes your hands into hers and looks at you with a warm smile.

—please excuse my son. He can be pretty cold or rude sometimes but he has a soft side…he’s just afraid to show it to people…just…give him a chance and go to the date with him. Maybe you guys will get along if you spend some time alone.

You sigh in defeat , knowing that you can’t decline mrs Hye-jin’s request. You love her too much to decline.

—don’t worry about it , mrs Hye-jin…I understand and I’ll go out on a date with him.

Sang-woo’s mom gives you a satisfied smile and walks away to finish some work. You definitely didn’t want to go on that date but you had to…

———————————————————————

I wasn’t planning on splitting this into two parts but I have soooo many ideas for this one…I hope you enjoyed part one and part two is coming soon!💓

taglist: @vkeyy @chosangwooswife @sensationallysangwoo

[anystalker707]

full-course meal

Pairing: [trans, ftm] Anakin Skywalker x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Anakin finally comes out to you as trans, and he's never had an orgasm before... Tags: oral / use of pussy/cunt / modern au / anakin's prosthetic arm / pussy eating / kissing his top surgery scars / whimpering / squirting / dysphoria / ftm character by an ftm author

Requested by @mistress-skywalker and @hayden-christensen-verse

MASTER LIST

          Anakin had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes on the TV, but it was clear his mind was somewhere else. Usually, he’d notice your gaze, ask what was on your mind, or give you a kiss, but he kept his gaze on the screen, eyebrows furrowed, way too tense for someone who was supposed to be relaxing on the bed with you on a slow weekend. His fingers played lightly with the hem of his sleeves, poking out a little, and you knew well the signs of your anxious boyfriend.

“Ani?” You pressed your nose to his temple, inhaling deeply, and his shampoo had such a nice scent, matching his cologne’s. A faint hum came from Anakin. Your arm around his shoulders tightened, and he pressed a little closer to lean his head against your shoulder briefly. “You okay? Are you feeling hot?” The day wasn’t particularly warm, but cuddling was warm, so it often dismissed the use of such a thick hoodie. Still, he didn’t seem to want to let go of it. “Baby…” You kissed his cheek a few times.

“You’re insufferable.” Anakin tried to suppress a grin, biting his lower lip.

You chuckled, rubbing his upper arm. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. You know you can always talk to me about anything at all.” It was obvious, clear ever since the beginning of the relationship. Nevertheless, the reminders were comforting. Reassuring.

“I know.” Anakin kissed your jaw softly, but he didn’t move much aside from that.

Something hung in the air as the relative silence took over, interrupted by the murmur of the TV, but even Anakin’s reassurance couldn’t effectively brush the sense of unease away. Still, you shouldn’t stare.

In a matter of minutes, Anakin exhaled, squirming around a little. He leaned his head back against your shoulder, and you could see him looking at you from the corner of your eyes. Anakin would inhale as if he’d say something every once in a while, but nothing ever came. Instead, he shifted continuously. He needed time.

“I wanna tell you something,” Anakin blurted out, breathless despite having no apparent reason. His eyes averted away from yours the moment they met, and he pressed his lips together. “I really love you, okay? Please, I just…” His shoulders tensed up, and it was almost automatic as both of you adjusted your position and sat up on the bed. Anakin held both his hands on his lap, the flesh one playing with the prosthetic fingers absentmindedly.

“I love you too,” you said carefully, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’m a guy,” Anakin continued. “I’m a male, okay? A dude.”

It sounded stupid, to a degree, but Anakin wouldn’t just say and do all of that for a trivial reason, so you trod carefully, nodding slowly. “Yeah, man.”

Anakin’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and nothing ever came. His face clearly demonstrated the battle of emotions inside him, something akin to nervousness and fear against confidence and something else. “I’m trans.” He stated, nodding to himself. “Yeah, I’m trans. ‘Been on T for a few years already. Got top surgery, and all that jazz. Self-made.”

You raised your eyebrows, taking a good look at Anakin under new lighting; or at least trying to, because your feelings for him and your perception remained the same despite the revelation. It felt like just another detail in the complexity that Anakin held. “Oh, really? That’s so badass, dude, I’m very happy for you!” You tried to mirror his feelings, the mix of casualty and conformity. You didn’t want to overreact nor to dismiss it too casually.

Either way, maybe that wasn’t what Anakin expected. He raised his eyebrows, observing you in silence for a moment. “I’m…”

“Very handsome, but I think I tell you that every day already,” you tried to fill in the silence, even if something awkward and unknown still hung in the air.

“Do you love me?” Anakin asked quietly, voice small.

“I love you.”

“…Am I manly enough today?”

“You’re always manly enough,” you added, and things started getting clearer. All that discomfort and tension probably had to do with dysphoria. Baggy clothes, trying to make himself less perceptible, unquietness, and self-doubt. You wanted to kiss all the bad feelings away from him, hold him until that uncertain glint faded away from his gaze.

“Do you still want to be mine?” Anakin’s voice sounded more like a faint keen, and you couldn’t resist, pulling him closer to hug him.

“Something like that wouldn’t be enough to free you from me.” You grinned and kissed Anakin’s cheek softly, and he almost instantly melted into your arms, wrapping his own around your neck. Despite not saying anything, the relief was noticeable in his demeanor.

A small smile finally tugged on Anakin’s lips before he could turn his head to meet yours in a soft kiss, warm lips pressing to yours lovingly, accepting all the love you were willing to give. He hummed, needy and clingy as he found a way to melt into you until you were lying down again, with him on top of you.

Anakin let out a little sound when your teeth grazed his bottom lip, his fingers grasping tighter onto your shoulder, and he deepened the kiss, tongue pressing to yours, body pressing to yours. That was far from easy to resist. He knew just how to run his tongue along the back of your teeth and suck on your bottom lip to have a groan escape your throat.

“Fuck,” Anakin inhaled deeply once the kiss finally broke, but his breath only fell more out of pace as you started mouthing down the side of his neck, nipping and kissing on the skin until you found a spot that made him squirm on top of you. “Mmph, love!”

“Ugh, it’s your fault,” you mumbled between kisses, about to slip your hands under his hoodie when you opted to just hold onto his waist instead.

He didn’t stop you, no, Anakin even tilted his head to the side and adjusted his position so that you’d kiss and nip on a spot that made his back arch. “Nngh, you’re so good at this,” he complained without real bite to his words.

“Not my fault you’re so irresistible, duh?” You scoffed, grinning once he did so himself. “Can I ask you a question? A personal one?”

Anakin raised an eyebrow. “Shoot.”

“Ever came before? After you started taking T, I mean.”

“Oh.” Anakin furrowed his eyebrows, propping up on his elbow as he looked down at you. “Um, I…” His cheeks flushed. “No.”

“Oh?” You repeated. Fuck, if you could be the one to provide him that first orgasm… “Really?”

Anakin nodded slowly as his eyes averted away. Fighting against embarrassment at this point would be useless. “I mean… Wanna do the honors?” He looked down at you again, a playful smirk masking his nervousness as he bit his lip.

“Baby boy, love of my life,” you groaned, shifting your positions so that you’d be the one on top instead. “You’re fucking perfect.” You started kissing his neck, but Anakin stopped you so that he could remove his hoodie, then his pants, only leaving his boxers on, and it got harder to pay attention the more skin he exposed.

The scars lined along the underside of his pecs, clearly well cared for, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to give him a kiss on the chest. The sudden motion made Anakin flinch before he finally noticed what was going on, so he relaxed and rubbed the back of your neck with his flesh hand, the prosthetic one resting on your shoulder. Anakin’s skin rose in shivers as your tongue traced his top surgery scars between kisses, and when you caught his gaze, there was a hint of disbelief and happiness in his eyes. You offered him a smile in return before pecking his lips.

A trail of hair disappeared beneath the hem of his boxers, and the wet spot by the middle already had you salivating. Your fingers hooked in the hem of his boxers when you paused. “How do I… Y’know, call… refer— Y’know…”

Anakin hummed faintly when he finally got what you meant. “Oh, um…” He looked at the ceiling to consider it. “My… My pussy, my cunt, um, it’s all okay.”

You nodded slowly. “My meal?”

A chuckled came from Anakin. “I suppose so.” He let out a shuddering breath as you kissed just below his navel, propped up on his elbows to watch you. He lifted his hips to help you remove his boxers, and his cheeks burned red again when your gaze finally fell to his pussy, as if you’d eat him up.

“Damn,” you groaned, spreading Anakin’s legs apart to settle down between them.

“I—It’s okay if you don’t want to do it anymore,” Anakin mumbled.

Your thoughts were already hazy. The sight of his pussy, puffy clit peeking out shyly between the trimmed pubes, shining with arousal already, all of it sent pleasure running down your spine, arousal pooling in your lower stomach. “You’re so hot, Ani, y’know that?” You rubbed circles into his inner thigh, and he immediately squirmed, still blushing, flustered. “I want it even more, if possible.”

Anakin’s skin was warm under your kisses as you finally started lowering down, taking your time to appreciate each inch of skin until your lips met his crotch. You nuzzled into it to inhale his scent deeply before you finally did it, pressing your open mouth to his slit. A breathy moan came from Anakin at the first contact, his back arching, so you limited yourself to pressing long kisses to his labia at first. He relaxed, decided to let his head rest back against the pillows and close his eyes while you mouthed at his cunt, focusing on the sensation of your warm lips and wet tongue gently exploring him.

“Fuuuck,” Anakin breathed when your tongue ran from his entrance to his clit, making his thighs quiver slightly. It felt better than anything he could have ever imagined.

Your tongue traced Anakin’s clit, taking your time around it, testing it under your tongue until it throbbed, so you pressed your tongue more confidently to the nub. One of his thighs pressed to your shoulder, and it tensed up whenever you ran your tongue down to his entrance and up to his clit again, so you made sure to repeat it a few times until he whimpered. Anakin did usually whimper during kisses, but having it happen while you ate him out was a whole different experience.

“I— Yeah,” Anakin whimpered when your tongue ran flat against his clit, and it was a matter of seconds before he squealed once your lips sealed around his clit. “A-Ah, babe, I— Fuck!” He fought a lost battle against himself, not able to keep himself together as you sucked on his clit and licked it at the same time, unwavered by his fingers tugging on your hair. “Hah, like that,” he moaned. Anakin arched his back, grinding his cunt against your face, and there was little you could help to do aside from feasting on it.

Anakin’s musky, tangy taste took over your senses along with his scent, intoxicating, making you want more and more from him, so all you could do was give him everything he wanted. He whimpered, squirming, and you imagined he must’ve been sensitive, being touched for the first time in a long while. But would you hold back? No. Anakin would tell you to stop if he wanted to, and since you wanted to give him a good first experience, you’d do it very well.

It wasn’t a lot, but Anakin was coming already. He arched his back with a loud, whiny moan as he pressed his pussy more to your face, and you kept sucking on his clit through his orgasm, only stopping it so that you could lick the cum that trickled down his entrance, drinking up every drop.

“Ugh, babe, you’re so g— Nngh!” Anakin cut himself off when your tongue traced his sensitive clit, moaning instead. His fingers relaxed around your hair, only to tug on it again. “G’nna kill me,” he mumbled, but what would all that babbling do?

You shifted your weight so that you could bring one hand up to Anakin’s pussy, holding one of his lips apart as you took a good look at your meal. “You taste so good, Ani, y’know that? And it’s all mine. Fuck, all mine,” you mumbled before mouthing at his pussy again, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his clit.

The chains of wanton moans spilled from Anakin’s lips continuously, whimpering and needy, punctuated by your name and gasps. You teased his clit with your tongue while pressing a fingertip to his entrance, feeling his pussy clench around nothing in anticipation, before you finally started pushing your finger inside him.

Anakin’s cunt clenched tightly around your finger, hungrily trying to push it deeper as he arched his back with a louder moan, thighs quivering, but it barely compared to how he reacted when you curled two of your fingers inside him. He was practically melted onto the mattress, not even able to tug onto your hair anymore, only squirming under you.

“Mmph, don’t stop,” Anakin almost sobbed, his cunt soaking wet to the point it made a squelching noise whenever your fingers sank inside him.

“Oh, baby,” you mumbled against his clit with a smile, “I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

You ate Anakin out as if he were your favorite meal presented to you after years of starvation, sucking and mouthing at his clit as your fingers curled up inside him, continuously pressing to that spot that made him see stars, the edges of his vision darkening as you kept mouthing at him so deliciously.

“Uuh– There, I– Nngh!” Anakin could barely say anything properly, lost in that crescendo of pleasure that certainly would hit him harder than the first wave did, and he could do nothing but lay there and wait for it to come. And when it did, Anakin let out a louder cry, thighs almost closing around your head as he pressed his eyes shut, feeling that tingle running down his thighs and toes curling, mind going blank, and the only thing that grounded him was your touch. He shuddered, hissing.

Anakin knew something happened, but he didn’t quite know what. He seemed disoriented as he lifted his head, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I… what happened?”

“You squirted,” you said simply, only pausing to suck your fingers clean. He didn’t only cum, but also squirted, giving you a full-course meal to feast on while working him through his orgasm. “I think I’ll need to make you do it again so that you can understand it this time.”

ᯓ★