#but they said :) no actually here is none of that

[my-castles-crumbling]

room - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 417

"So you're an actual thing now?" Barty asked Regulus as the train sped towards London.

Regulus shrugged. "Yeah. He asked me last night."

It had been a moment that had built after weeks of messing around, months of tension. As their lips connected and their hands traced over each other's bodies, James had broken their kiss to stare deep in his eyes and murmur, "Be mine. For real. No...no others, no games. Just us. Please?"

And at first, Regulus had worried that maybe it was just the stress. They would be separated for two weeks: Regulus going back to Grimmauld Place and James to his own family for the holidays. Maybe James was just sad that he wouldn't have anyone to snog for a while? But one look into James's hazel eyes washed all his reservations away.

The resulting kiss had been nothing less than earth-shattering.

But now, his friends were exchanging troubled glances.

"What?" he demanded, frowning in frustration.

"Just...are you sure he won't hurt you? I mean...up until recently we all thought he was straight," Dorcas said gently, placing a hand on his knee. "He's nice when you sneak around, but do you think he'll ever want to...go public?"

A mixture of annoyance and dread flooded through Regulus as he began to second-guess himself. But before he could properly panic, there was a knock on the door of the train compartment.

Frowning, Regulus stood to answer it, if only to give himself time to think. Opening the covered doors, he found himself face-to-face with none other than James himself. He resisted the urge to curse.

"Hi," the taller boy smiled softly. "Erm...I wanted to...to see...to meet...I just..." he sighed, obviously struggling with his words. Taking a deep breath, he stood up a bit straighter. "Room for one more?" he asked, gesturing to the compartment Regulus was standing in.

A fierce wave of warmth washed through him as Regulus realized: James was here to do exactly what his friends had been questioning. He was here to be with him, together, in front of other people.

Grinning happily, Regulus nodded, pulling James inside. "Guys, meet my boyfriend," he said smugly as he did, the sound of the word on his lips giving him a thrill, completely enjoying the way his friends lit up when he said it.

By the time they got to London, James had completely won over his friends, and Regulus was filled with enough bubbling happiness to sustain him for the next few weeks.

[starless-nightz]

The look of love

note -> I am NOT ready for act 3, I don't want Arcane to end :[[[

parts -> [part one] | part two

pairing -> Jinx X fem! reader, platonic! Isha X fem! reader

summary -> Jinx always believed that she would end up alone, she always did. That was until you and Isha came into her life and now she finally has something—someone—worth living for.

warnings -> none.

content includes -> just fluff.

Jinx didn't believe in happy endings. Not for her, not for anyone. Sure, people in Piltover might have them—their shining golden mansions and glittering dresses made them seem like they walked out of fairy tales. But here in Zaun? Happy endings were as real as unicorns, and Jinx would sooner blow herself up than believe in that kind of nonsense.

She had convinced herself she didn't care.

That was until you came along. And then later, Isha.

————

The first time she met you Jinx didn't think much about you. You were just another face in the crowd of Zaun, another person struggling to make it through the grime and smog. She’d been trailing through the streets, looking for some scrap or bauble to turn into her next explosive creation.

And there you were, crouched in some abandond alley with your hands tangled in wires, fiddling with some broken-down device. You didn't even look up when she stopped next to you, a hand resting on her hip as she watched you.

"Hey, you planning on blowing that thing up, or is it just me?

You jumped, your head smacking against the device. Groaning, you rubbed at your scalp and turned to glare at her. "What do you want?"

Jinx tilted her head. "Ooh, feisty. I like that." She crouched next to you, her eyes darting over your work. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Nothing you'd care about."

"Try me."

You let out a sigh, but humored her. "It's a transmitter. Or it's supposed to be. Trying to fix it so I can get in touch with someone topside. Supplies down here are running thin."

She knew should've walked away. Jinx never got involved with other people's problems. It was easier this way: to keep to herself and keep the world at arm's length, to keep her heart safe, she couldn't handle loosing anyone else.

But something about you made her want to stay, something about you made her want to get to know you better, to open up her heart to you.

"Supplies, huh? Tell you what," she said, standing and shouldering her gun. "You make that thing work, and I'll make sure nobody messes with you until then."

You blinked at her warily but curiously. "Why?"

Jinx shrugged, a lopsided grin spreading across her face. "Call it a hunch. You seem… fun."

————

That was the start. You didn't trust her that much at first—who would? Jinx was chaos in human form, a whirling dervish of energy and bad decisions that sane people crossed the street to avoid, not to mention a wanted crimial. But she kept her word. For weeks, she stuck around your jury-rigged workshop, chasing off the more common sorts of Zaunite pests.

And against your better judgment, you began to grow accustomed—and even attached—to her.

Jinx was actually good company when she wasn't blowing things up. She had a way of making you laugh, even when the transmitter refused to cooperate. Her stories—wild and half-believed—painted in the picture of a girl who hurt more often than she let on.

One night, with the both of you sitting on the rooftop of a crumbling building, she turned to you, her usual manic grin replaced by something softer.

"Why're you still here, anyway?" she asked. "Zaun's a dump. You could've gone topside ages ago."

You fumbled for words, gazing fixedly out across the glowing neon lights of the skyline. "Zaun's home," you said finally. "It's messy, yeah, but… it's mine. People up there wouldn't understand."

For once, Jinx didn't have a snappy comeback. She just nodded, the understanding in her eyes making your chest tighten.

————

Then came Isha.

Jinx had always been good at finding trouble, and it just so happens that a little girl fell on top of her while running away from bad men.

Jinx protected her, of course, the guys weren't even a match to her so it was incredibly easy. By the time the dust settled, the little girl was staring at her, wide-eyed and breathless.

"Yep, that's me." Jinx said as the two looked at the wanted posters of her, "You ever need to curse a sibling or a family or a society... my card." she said as she started walking away.

The little girl immediately followed her, trying her best to catch uo with her, her little eyes filled with amazement.

Soon Jinx was at your workshop with the little girl trailing behind her. You immediately noticed the two, raising your eyebrow as you glance between Jinx and the girl.

"She yours?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jinx shrugged. "I dunno. She just kinda started following meu."

You sigh, looking at the little girl then at Jinx. "Well, she's staying. She'll be safer with us."

Jinx didn't argue.

————

Months passed. The three of you became an odd little family, bound together by circumstance and something deeper that none of you could quite name.

You and Jinx spent your days scavenging and fixing whatever you could get your hands on, while Isha stood watch, her quiet presence a constant comfort, sometimes she would even help you two.

For the first time in a long while, Jinx felt something close to peace.

She would never admit to it, not even to herself, but she began to look forward to the moments when you'd smile at her, your laughter filling up the empty spaces in her mind. She loved the way Isha would hold onto her, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone anymore.

And then there was the way you looked at her.

Jinx had seen a lot of things in her life, but she'd never seen anyone look at her the way you did. Like she was more than just a ticking time bomb. Like she was worth something.

It scared her.

But it also made her want to be better. For you.

————

It was one of those nights when the city weighed heavier than usual. You were tinkering with a new device that aimed to channel Zaun's toxic air into something breathable. Jinx sat beside you, mimicking your actions but with one of her bombs instead as Isha layed her head in Jinxs lap sound asleep.

"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked her, looking up to look at her.

Jinx froze, her fingers mid-twist. "What, like… Zaun?"

You nodded, not looking at her. "Yeah, starting over somewhere else. Somewhere quiet."

For a moment, she didn't know what to say. The idea of leaving Zaun had never crossed her mind. This place was her hell, but it was also her home.

But then she looked at you, at the way the dim light caught the curve of your face, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there could be something more.

"I dunno," she said finally, her voice quieter than usual. "Maybe."

You turned to her, your expression soft but searching. "If you ever wanted to… I'd go with you, Isha would too."

Jinx's heart stuttered in her chest. She looked away, trying to mask the way her cheeks flushed. She looked down at Ishas sleeping form, her hands playing with the young girls fluffy hair.

"Yeah, well," she muttered, "don't go making promises you can't keep, alright?"

But the way you smiled at her made her wonder if you meant it.

————

The world didn't change overnight. It never does. But for Jinx, it didn't need to.

She had you. She had Isha.

And for the first time in her life, she thought that might just be enough.

Because when she looked at you, she saw something she never thought she'd have.

Home.

And that was worth living for.

[therealbeachfox]

"Why do we make laser grids like these?" came the chirp from across the table.

"What do you mean?" Otto responded without looking up.

"I mean, instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass?"

Otto sighed heavily and looked up from the blueprints he'd been amending and reworking to focus on his nephew. One of his nephews. One of his multitude of nephews because none of his siblings understood the concept of wrapping it up. He was at Mykola's place, so probably one of his. Too young to be Aiden, too old to be Eric. A, B, C... Connor? Conway? Conrad? One of those. At that extra annoying age where they're too curious for their own good, and have started to believe they actually know something, so get real argumentative about it when you prove they don't.

There's a reason why Otto didn't have kids. Or deal with kids. And tried to talk the Boss out of putting kids into his deathtraps. Fucking kids. Ugh.

"Because if we did that, it'd be impossible to get through." he said, hoping it'd satisfy the kid.

"But isn't that what you're trying to do?" Mykola's boy had his head twisted around to try and look at the blueprints from his uncle's perspective and was tracing out the twisting pathways with his eyes. "This whole thing is a giant 'You Can't Get In Here' tunnel. I don't understand why you're leaving holes in the security."

Well, the kid had actually asked, instead of just flat out stating that his way would be better. Otto grit his teeth and settled himself back for a proper lecture. "You're thinking too mundanely, kid." The boy looked up curiously and brushed a tangle of near-black hair out of his eyes. Slightly mollified, Otto continued. "This isn't like designing security for a bank or vault or something. This is something for my Boss. So we're already not designing like we would for the public sector, right?"

"Yeah? Yeah." Con-whatever agreed, though still looking just as confused.

"So, our issue is, whoever comes looking for whatever it is that the Boss is gonna put at the end of this is already going to be uniquely skilled and driven. Not just your average jewelry robbers or beat cops, right?"

"Right, yeah, you're going to be dealing with capes or cowls and stuff, sure. But wouldn't that mean you'd want it all extra locked down?" The kid was now looking directly at him. But with the intense look of someone who didn't understand but wanted to. It was by far more annoying than if the kid had just been flat-out disparaging of the whole process. Now Otto couldn't just tell him to shove off without feeling bad about it. Ugh.

"Well, here's the thing. If this was something the Boss really wanted to keep away from people, he'd have it put in some indistinguishable bank vault lock-box by a patsy that one of us underlings had hired through a third party, leaving two whole layers unaware of who even wanted the thing in there, and at least three whole layers who have no idea what the object even is besides. But he's not doing that, he's putting it at the end of a long tunnel of traps, alarms, and obstacles. Which means, what he wants is for whoever's coming after him to go through the whole thing. Which means it's gotta be at least theoretically possible to get through the whole thing. If you were a cowl and you came across a perfect laser grid that there was no way to squirm your way through and no way to work around, what would you do?"

Mykola's kid frowned down at the blueprints, eyebrows furrowed in tweenage concentration. "Start cutting through the walls, I guess. Either to find a way to cut the power, or to bypass the tunnel all toget-OH! Ooooooh, okay! I see, I see!" Otto grabbed the edge of the table to steady it as the kid started bouncing a little in his seat. "If you make it impossible, the cowls will start thinking outside the box and start looking for ways to end-run around the whole thing. If you make it difficult, but still possible, they're going to be too busy focusing on how to do the almost impossible thing so they're still playing by your Boss' rules instead of making up their own!"

Otto grunted and bit back the hint of a smile that wanted to cross his lips. Last thing he wanted to do was encourage the brat; then he'd be stuck answering questions all day. "Now you've got it. Make it hard enough that they waste as much time getting through it as possible without breaking out their bat-themed metal cutters or retreating and finding another way to come in altogether. Same reason why museums do it this way. Otherwise, the only way to get at shit would be to blow a hole in the floor, and that'd damage way more artifacts than whatever the thief was targeting originally."

"Okay, I think I totally get it. Is that why the HVAC ducts are big enough for sidekicks to get through? In case they can't work stuff out?"

Otto blinked and scowled back down at the blueprints to figure out what the kid was talking about, "No? No! I've got them as small as they can get without leaving the air rank, and we've got mesh grids every five feet just in case they try anyway."

The kid pointed down at one point in the blueprints and traced out a line that went way from one-third of the way through the hallway to right near the end, "Not on this one. And it's got this other branch that leads out to the bathrooms in the laundry mat you're using as a front, even!"

Otto squinted down at what the kid was pointing out. It was a second branch of the air circulation network, focused mainly on the above ground business, but with a few pipes down below ground as federally mandated backups to the system he'd been focusing on locking down. "No. That's not for the sidekicks." He growled and grabbed for an eraser and pencil and got to work grinding out alterations.

"Huh. So what about the-" the kid started.

"One thing at a time. Let me get this fixed, then you can ask the next one, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, okay!" The kid shrugged and grabbed up one of Otto's old notebooks that had the first iteration of designs for the Boss' main vault and started reading while kicking his legs.

Otto just ground his teeth and focused on his work. Only thing worse than a kid was a precociously bright kid with an honest interest in your work. Worse thing in the goddamn world.

He should message Mykola and let him know he needed to get one of his other kids to bring up snacks for the brat. He was at that age where he was going to get hungry long before Otto was done.

"Why do we make laser grids like these?" "What do you mean?" "I mean instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass through?"

[auroracalisto]

with all the power in oz

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 2.2k words summary: the reader, rather anxious and studious, finds their self head-over-heels with none other than fiyero, supposed boyfriend to galinda upland. to placate this, they somewhat agree to meet him at the ozdust ballroom. a/n: YOU pronouns are used to address the reader, but there is no usage of y/n. just watched the movie today. tried to find a fic, couldn't. here I am writing one instead. reader worries a lot. so me. you're welcome. also, I'm going into this blind. I have unfortunately never seen the actual musical (downsides to living in the middle of nowhere) so I'm only going off based on wikis and the movie. it should be gn as I read through it like... five different times, but please let me know if I missed something!

Breathtaking. That's what he was. But could you truly refer to a man like him as breathtaking?

The very features that graced his face were absolutely mesmerizing, and you felt like a fool watching him at times. How could you not? He seemed so full of life, so full of... well, not a care in the world, really. It was as if he brushed everything off of his shoulders without hesitation.

You could only wished you were the same way.

No cares, no worries. How lovely that would have been.

No, you hold onto the things that happen to you as if you have no other way to live. You hold grudges, you think over things that happened years ago that no one could possibly remember.

For someone who wished to be a sorcerer, you had a hard time simply letting things go. Your emotions often got the better of you, even when you knew better. Even when you wished it could be the opposite. But perhaps that was the way of the world.

Not a man in Oz could tell you otherwise.

Books in hands, you crossed the path to your dormitory, brows cinched together in mild concentration.

You had a project in your history class, and an extensive paper to complete on the study of mathematics—of all the things you could have had, a paper in mathematics. You'd rather perform magic in front of the entire student body, but you couldn't.

As you walked, you heard your name come from behind you. Eyes flicker back, a soft frown on your lips. You see him—Fiyero. The one fool you meant to avoid with all the gumption within you.

You'd melt just being near him.

"Fiyero," you softly greet.

He gave you a charming smile, coming up to walk with you. "Heading back already?" he asked.

"I am."

"Working on the project, hm? We could work on it together if you'd like. I'm sure our minds could do wonders," he said, a playful wink coming from him.

"I'm fine," you simply said.

He blinked slowly, but his smile never wavered. "Come now," he said, your name leaving his lips rather sweetly. "Surely you're not going to spend the rest of your evening alone. Why don't you come to Ozdust tonight?"

You looked back at him, frowning. "Ozdust. Me. I don't think so, Fiyero."

"And why not? I'm sure you'd be as dashing as ever."

You stopped in your steps, eyes searching his for but a moment. "Dashing. Are you in earnest, Fiyero?"

"Yes," he said, smiling.

"And what of Galinda? You'll be with her. Why invite me?"

"She doesn't need to know. It's not her business," he said. "Besides, she will be busy with Elphaba. I'd much rather spend time with you."

"And I think you're just pulling my leg," you said defensively. You crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep your books close.

"Pulling your leg? I haven't even touched you," he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Come now, don't play coy. You should come."

"And if I do?"

"Then I'll be quite happy."

You rolled your eyes and went to walk away.

A hand wrapped around your bicep, and you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.

His eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hand, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he didn't think he would actually reach out to you. He cleared his throat.

"I really would like you to be there. You'll have the time of your life."

"The time of my life," you repeated. "I don't think you realize how much I dread parties."

"Have you ever been to one?"

"No."

"Then how do you know you dread them?"

"I just know," you said. "I feel it in my bones. I know going will just get on my nerves."

He scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "I think you're foolish for that," he said. "Come on. What are you losing? A couple hours to work on a project that you know you could finish in a morning session? You'll be fine. Come to the Ozdust tonight. I'll show you a good time."

You clenched your jaw. "I don't want—"

"—I would like you to be there. That is all. I won't ask again." He gave you another small smile before he looked away. "I'll see you around. Perhaps tonight?"

You stared him down. He would like to see you there? Was he being honest? And what of Galinda? Would he be going behind her back? Wasn't he madly in love with her, or something? Or was it the other way around?

He said your name once more, and you looked up at him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Right. Perhaps tonight," you softly said.

The smile on his lips was rather... hopeful than anything else. There wasn't anything smarmy by it. He seemed as genuine as the glint in his eye—the one he used when he spoke with anyone he trusted. At least, you hoped so.

The night came quickly as you finished up your outfit—one you would hope you didn't look completely foolish in. The color you chose seemed to fit well with almost anything, but you still worried. You always worried about something.

Time was of the essence. You weren't even supposed to leave Shiz University's campus, but here you were, sneaking like some scoundrel.

Well, perhaps you were, listening to the requests of a man who already had a girlfriend—a fantastically beautiful one at that.

But you paid no mind. You did what you could, and soon, you found yourself walking down the steps of the Ozdust Ballroom.

Never had you been in a place like this. It was almost... breathtaking, had it not been for the overpowering smells of perfume and some kind of drink wafting from the bar. Your eyes flitted from patron to patron until you finally spotted him—Fiyero.

He looked just as handsome as ever.

Good Oz, what in the world were you doing? This was foolish.

You took a step back, staring at Fiyero for a moment as he spoke with another man, drink in hand. You needed to leave. This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous! Never in a thousand years would you ever imagine yourself to do such a thing—

"You made it!"

Fiyero's voice rang out above the music.

You look to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Because of course he saw you as soon as you had decided to leave.

Fiyero smiled and made his way to you, taking your hands in his, drink left with the confused man behind him. Surely he didn't just up and leave in the middle of his conversation.

You part your lips and go to speak, but to your dismay, Fiyero is instant.

"I was afraid you had changed your mind," he said. "You look ravishing, darling."

Your eyes widened. Ravishing? You'd been called many things in your life, but never ravishing.

"Galinda couldn't make it?" you asked.

"Wha—no, she couldn't. But what of it? I didn't ask her to the Ozdust, I asked you. I'm glad to see your face."

Warmth blossomed in your cheeks as you watched him. "Fiyero, please... I shouldn't be here."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, grinning all the while. "Come. Dance with me."

"But I don't—"

"—do not say you don't dance. I can teach you."

"Teach me?"

"It's as easy as breathing," he said.

"For you, maybe, but not for—"

"—humor me," he said, smiling.

You pursed your lips. Of course he had to give you that charming smile and the sweet bat of his eyelashes.

"I do not dance," you repeated.

"I think I will be the judge of that."

He grabbed your hands once more and pulled you out into the ballroom floor, smiling all the while.

"You'll be a natural. I can just see it."

"I feel like if I were a natural, you wouldn't have to teach me," you said, gasping as he pulled you close to his chest. His face was dangerously close to yours, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"You know," he began, eyes flickering back to your eyes. "We all start somewhere, do we not? You should know that better than anyone."

"What? What does that—"

He interrupted you by spinning you by your arm, back into his embrace. The music was rather ambient, not quite one for dancing so enthusiastically, but Fiyero embraced it. Hand to your hand, face close to your face.

"See? A natural."

"You merely spun me around, Fiyero. Do not be foolish."

"You could have fell flat on your face," he said, a boyish grin evident on his lips.

"Stop looking at me like that," you defiantly said. "You are far too close to me for my liking."

"Oh, feisty, are we?" he asked, moving his body along to the music and forcing you to go along, too. You nearly stepped on his toes several times. "I do not think there is anything wrong with the way I'm looking at you. You're rather breathtaking, if I may."

Breathtaking. The same way you had described him only hours before. He wasn't a mind reader, was he?

No.

Of course not. That was foolish. He was merely a man. Nothing of great importance—no power within him other than the power he held in every single eyelash as they batted down at you, making you melt over and over again.

"What of Galinda?" you repeated.

"What of her?"

"You shouldn't be calling someone who isn't yours breathtaking. It's quite..."

"There is nothing wrong with admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, your name playfully leaving his tongue. "Look at me. Galinda and I are only friends."

You rolled your eyes. "Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened a bit. "Lie? I do not lie. We are friends and nothing more. Though I do believe she thinks differently..."

"She must," you said, huffing softly.

"But that does not make it true. I have eyes for someone else."

"Eyes for someone else?"

He tilted his head once more. He was rather endearing when he did that.

"Who did I ask to their very first party?" he asked, smiling. "It's quite a feat, isn't it? Afraid you wouldn't show, and then you do, questioning me and everything I stand for, hm?"

Warmth found its way to your cheeks once more. You looked away from him. With the crescendo of the music, Fiyero pulled you closer, fingers lacing with yours. His lips hover dangerously close to yours.

"You know, if you would just give it a chance, perhaps you and I could make some magic of our own."

You let out a curt laugh. "You—oh, good Oz, I hope you never use that line on anyone! Has that worked for you before?"

He gave a cheeky smile. "It seems like it's working on you."

"Absolutely not!"

"Not even a little!"

"No!"

His smile only seemed to grow. "Truly?"

You looked away, swallowing thickly. "I mean... no. Not even a little. Not at all."

"You're lying," he said.

"I am not."

"I do think I know what I'm talking about," he said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. "Come now," he said. "Stop with the lies."

You looked up at him, a soft huff escaping you.

"Fine. I lied. It may or may not be working. But it's not just because of what you said."

"Oh? Are you saying you like me for more than my suave words?"

"Suave words? Who in Oz said they were suave?"

He just smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips once more. "Do you think instead of just a dance, I could try something more?"

"Try what?"

"I think you know."

You blinked slowly at him, your fingers gently gripping onto his tunic. Your lips part in mild surprise, but you realize that you shouldn't have been. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening.

"Very well," you softly said.

"Wonderful," he replied, and in a swift motion, he pressed his lips to yours. It was short as he pulled back almost as soon as he had kissed you, but it was enough to keep you wanting more.

"Fiyero, that wasn't—"

"—come with me," he softly said, lacing his fingers with yours once more. "Somewhere without so many prying eyes, yes?"

Your answer was almost instant: "Yes."

Fiyero led you back up the staircase, and he didn't look back once at the ballroom.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Somewhere where I can see you and only you," he said. "If that's alright."

"Oh," you softly said. "Yes. That's alright."

"Then follow me," he said. "Do you trust me?"

You smiled sincerely for one of the first times in the evening. Did you trust him? What kind of foolish question was that? If you had the chance, you'd do whatever he'd ask of you. You found your answer rather quickly, knowing within yourself that it was far truer than any other statement you had ever uttered.

"With all the power in Oz."

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 piña colada

synopsis: some women just can't take a hint... good thing Zoro's only got eyes for one girl.

cw: nsfw (oral: female receiving), this woman is really shameless, surprisingly tender Zoro, you two are so in love, kinda magical ngl, etc.

"Hey, there," a woman—who was in the tiniest bikini known to man—hummed, tone low as she approached the lounge chair. "I don't think I've seen you on this island before."

'For fuck's sake...'

Annoyed, Zoro let a heavy sigh out from his nose, not even bothering to glance in the girl's direction as his sunglasses shaded his harsh side eye.

You'd think after seeing eight other women walk dejectedly away from his umbrella, the others would catch the hint?

"Not interested," he stated, curtly, hands firmly tucked behind his head as he looked out to sea.

The woman chuckled, softly, completely ignoring his comment and taking a seat in the sand.

She sat criss-crossed, dropping her hands in her lap and using her arms to slightly push her tits together, attempting to endearingly lean closer to your swordsman.

"Don't be so hasty," she sweetly smiled, taking his rudeness in stride. "Haven't even given me the chance to speak."

"Well, that's 'cause I really don't give a shit what you say otherwise," he sighed, shutting his eyes.

"I can name ten other men off the top of my head that would beg to differ," she countered, slyly.

"I'm not other men."

"You certainly aren't..."

'Walked right into that one.'

His brows flattened, and for a moment he wondered if this was a real person talking, slightly glancing around to see if he could find a camera crew of some sort.

Yet, to his surprise, there was none.

"I have a girlfriend," he dealt the finishing blow, delivering the final line that scared away all the other women from before.

He could finally get some peace and quiet.

"I don't see her here," the woman shrugged, simply, as if what he just said made no difference to her.

Zoro threw his head back with an irritated groan, wanting nothing more than to drop kick the woman away and go back to napping.

This was all Luffy and Usopp's fault.

The crew had been docked on a tropical summer island for a few days, and for all of them, you and Zoro had gone down to the beach together and lounged in the sun—tanning, napping, eating, and drinking in rotation.

But on that particular day, the boys had whisked you away to go explore some cove they found on the beach's edge, leaving your swordsman to fend off the wolves by himself.

And at first, it wasn't that bad.

The girls that approached were polite and had pure intentions, and actually respected his wishes when he said he was uninterested.

But numbers four through eight?

Hell, the woman sitting next to him?

Less so.

"Are you deaf or somethin'?" he asked, brows furrowed as he sat up, not appreciating her comment at all. "I already told you, I'm not interested. So get lost."

"Oh, c'mon," she rolled her eyes with a laugh. "There's no way you actually have a girlfriend. No girl in her right mind would leave her man alone on a beach like this, especially if he was as handsome as you."

"Maybe that's why she's my girlfriend and you're not," he scoffed, sarcastically.

Her brow twitched, the remark clearly striking a nerve as her posture suddenly straightened, her sickeningly sweet tone turning sour in a second.

"Well then, maybe your girlfriend can step up and we can see who's really the shit," she spat, standing from her spot in the sand. "Since she's so fuckin' great, let's see how she fares in a fight."

A smirk rose to the woman's lips, her hand coming to rest cockily on her hip.

"I might not look it, but I'm this island's martial arts champion... And I've yet to lose a fight. So let's see how she does with her face in the sand."

Zoro paused a moment, almost disbelieving, lifting up his sunglasses and taking a breath to see if the woman was serious.

She was.

Deadly serious, actually.

'HA!'

The man threw his head back in a burst of uproarious laughter, the sound causing the woman to jolt with surprise, and slight fear.

She'd never seen his expressions range anything past annoyance, so seeing him so amused seemed almost uncanny, especially since he was nearly howling with hilarity.

But he couldn't help himself.

You, the woman with a bounty over one billion?

You, the woman with the devil fruit of the personified spirit of death?

You, the woman who has fought literal monsters with her bare hands?

Lose to a random martial arts lady on a peaceful summer island?

It was almost too much.

The woman's brows furrowed, face warming at the mockery.

"The hell's so funny?!" she huffed with a childish pout.

Attempting to regain his composure, he wiped a tear from his eye, slightly clutching his stomach as his laughs died down.

"She'd fuckin' kill you," he chuckled, shoulders bobbing. "Like actually."

Furious, the woman broke into a long-winded tirade about why she would win... or how badly you would lose... or something along those lines.

If he was being honest, he zoned out the moment she started talking, something more interesting seeming to catch his eye.

You.

Like a dog with a bone, he watched, mesmerized, as you made your way over, hips looking ripe and tender for the grabbing.

'Goddamn...'

After days in the sun, you'd developed a delectably smooth tan, the sunscreen you had him apply earlier giving your skin an alluring shine.

Eyes scanning over your body, he took in the light (f/c) of your bikini, which had a few complimentary, (o/c) flowers decorating its corners, along with the waist beads resting lazily over your stomach, not to mention the gold anklets and bracelets that littered your ankles and wrists.

You looked good enough to eat—a thought he didn't mind indulging in later.

"Hey! Are you listening to me?" the woman continued pestering him, her hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

Huge mistake.

Faster than she could even see, Zoro grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand off and staring her down with a deadly glare, his patience long since run thin.

The woman froze, fear slowly creeping into her chest at the sharpness of his eyes.

He looked like he had half the mind to slit her throat right there.

"I'm only gonna tell you this one last time..." he warned, tone leaving no room for argument. "Get. Lost."

Roughly, he let go of her, and she quickly scrambled to her feet, scurrying back over to the safety of her friend's towel just as you arrived.

"Hey, Zo'!" you chirped, taking a seat on your swordsman's lap as you took a sip of your cocktail, which was in a cut-off coconut.

"Hey, pretty," he greeted with a smirk, placing a kiss on your neck. "Whatchu got there?"

"Some kinda coconut-rum drink," you answered, plucking the pineapple off the rim and taking a bite out of it. "The guy at the bar called it a Piña Colada."

Zoro nodded, "S'it any good?"

"Might be a bit too sweet for you," you shrugged, holding it out to him. "But try it."

Leaning forward, he sipped a bit from the straw, his nose scrunching slightly.

It was incredibly sweet.

"Yeah, I figured as much," you giggled, amused by his expression as you took it back. "By the way, who was that girl that went running away from here? She looked scared."

Slightly, you leaned over to glance at her, who was sitting not too far away, and raised a brow as she quickly turned around, terrified by your gaze. 

'The hell?'

"Was she in trouble or somethin'?"

Zoro chuckled, knowingly, his hand sliding up your side to give your hip a lackadaisical squeeze. 

"Nah," he shook his head, finally leaning back and allowing himself to relax in the chair. "Just needed help takin' a hint."

"So... I miss anything while you were on your trip with Luffy?" Zoro asked with a smile, slowly gliding his oar through the sparkling ocean.

You lit up with excitement, suddenly reminded of the events of the day.

"I wish I dragged you along! You woulda loved it," you sighed, leaning back in your spot in the canoe. "Turns out this island isn't as peaceful as we thought. When we went to the edge of the beach, we found tons of monster-sized crabs and lobsters, all of them strong as hell."

You smirked, holding up your fist.

"Me an' Luffy made a game over who could beat the most, while Usopp kept count. And we ended up in a draw."

'Damn.'

That blew his day fighting off women right out the water.

He should've gone with you.

"What about you? Anything interesting happen while I was away?" you asked.

"Eh," he shrugged, moving his oar to the other side. "Nothin' worth mentioning. My day was honestly pretty boring."

But he was hoping to change that.

While you were gone, he found Nami and Robin on the beach, and managed to weave through theirs sea of admirers in order to ask some advice.

Things had been going really great between the two of you, and since you were always so good with surprising him with gifts and gestures, he wanted to try his hand at it.

Of course, he had no idea where to begin.

And while Nami was little to no help, spending most of the time talking his ear off about how brutish and hopeless he was, Robin recommended taking you out to the nearby cove for a romantic night.

So, after scrounging up his island allowance and buying some booze and a canoe, he swept you away, all of the day's tribulations fading to the back of his mind as he watched you sit down in his lap.

"Y'know, this is really sweet of you, Zoro," you smiled, your fingers carefully tracing the scar across his chest. "Makin' me feel all special..."

He nodded, eyes raking over your face with an almost analytical look.

God, you were so fuckin' pretty.

It was almost baffling.

If he wasn't in this canoe—

"Figured you deserved something nice," he cleared his throat, warding off the less than decent thoughts creeping into his head.

He couldn't keep the romance up if he was too busy thinking about jumping your bones.

But little did he know... you were thinking the same thing.

Shifting your position, you rested your knees on either side of him, smoothly moving to bury your face in his neck, placing firm, meaningful kisses on his flesh. 

Instinctively, the man leaned into your touch, one of his hands coming up to steady you at the small of your back, while the other continued to paddle.

Gliding your manicured hands up his body, you rested them on his strong shoulders, using them for purchase as you continued to nip at him.

His chest rumbled with a deep hum at the feeling, relishing in the way your lips felt against his pulse point, sucking a hickey onto his skin.

Yet, just as it was getting good, you pulled away with a soft pop, moving to obscure his view of the water.

"I'm blockin' you. You can't see. What're we gonna do?" you grinned, cheekily, continuing to move in front of him as he tried to peer around you. "Oh, my Gods, we're gonna crash."

He looked up at you with a small smirk and a raised brow, amused, as you continued your antics.

"Oh, no. What's gonna happen?"

Suddenly, his hand roughly pulled you into his side, a soft squeal leaving your lips as he chuckled, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and continue your kissing assault while his two hands returned to the oar.

Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you peppered lazy kisses on his skin, your hand coming up to card through the hairs at the base of his neck.

Tenderly, Zoro placed a few kisses of his own on your shoulder, his eye perking at the sight of your destination.

Robin had given him impossibly thorough instructions on how to get there, which is the only reason why you two hadn't miraculously made it to the next island.

"Hey..." he lightly nudged you as the boat approached the shore. "We're here."

Lifting your head, you carefully flew out his lap, touching down on the dry sand as he hopped into the shallow water, walking around to the back and pushing the canoe onto the shore.

"Oh, wow," you gasped, in awe at the beauty laid before you. "This is beautiful! Look at the view"

The moon hovered over the water, making the waves crystallize like diamonds below, just as the stars in the ink-black sky.

The sea breeze wafted your hair and cooled the sweat on your body from the heat of the day.

It felt good to get away from people, the serenity too nice to put off.

Suddenly, Zoro scooped you up, you in one arm and the case of booze in the other as he began walking toward the cove.

"It gets better," he smirked, leading you over to where the tall rocks flattened out and arched upward, turning themselves into a natural cabana.

Placing you down, he quickly gathered some sticks from nearby, before bringing them back and starting a fire.

And as he did so, you couldn't help but marvel at his body, thick, corded muscle flexing and extending under his skin at each minute movement, looking delicious enough to bite.

And that wasn't the blood-sucker in you talking.

You sighed in contentment as you tipped your head up towards the sky, admiring the stars twinkling above

Finishing up, Zoro plopped down beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side with a proud smile.

"Nice, right?" he chuckled.

You lazily nodded, wanting to stay there forever—among the water, stars, and him.

You peered up at him through your lashes, hesitant to speak in fear of ruining the moment.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in them. And you let yourself be pulled into him, sighing when your head met the crook of his shoulder.

You embraced him back, crushing your breasts against his hard chest. 

There, you two stayed, holding each other, linked together like magnets.

"You smell nice," he murmured into your skin, taking a deep inhale of you. "Like coconut."

You smiled, shyly, warmth rising to your cheeks at the compliment.

And after a few silent seconds, he pulled away from you, his eyes dark as the night sky.

"I'm gonna kiss you," he stated, curtly, his gaze alight with enamor.

You didn't get to say a reply, too preoccupied with the lips pressing against yours.

The kiss was hungry, your lips moving against each other's like you both were starving for one another.

And you were.

You could tell Zoro wanted the same thing you did when his hands moved below your waist to squeeze your ass, the feeling making you moan into his mouth.

He replied with his own grunt and pulled away, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"I wanna see you," he stated, his voice a deep rumble.

There was a molten tenderness in his gaze that had you shivering in pleasure and anticipation, wondering what else he had in store for you.

So you stripped.

Catching the hint, your hands glided up your back, pulling the string of your bikini top and letting your breasts fall out of the cups, along with the strings to your bottoms.

Zoro's eyes raked over the sight of you as if you were a piece of art he was admiring in a museum.

"Shit," he softly hissed to himself, amazed at the sight of your brown, hardened nipples.

You softly whimpered at his calloused hands caressing your sensitive breasts, causing him to move on to other matters.

He leaned in and latched his lips onto one of your nipples, where he began to suckle on.

You threw your head back to stare at the endless sky, your mouth open in an O as pleasured moans fell from your lips.

You couldn't help yourself, especially when Zoro began to suckle and flick his tongue along the sensitive bud of your nipple, his hand kneading your other breast in the process.

Then he switched, giving your other breast the same treatment.

Your hands found his hair, your fingers aimlessly wandering through the green strands.

You were ruining its somewhat even style, but he didn't seem to care.

He was more concerned with nibbling along your nipple, making you sharply inhale before your voice choked on a broken moan.

You couldn't take it.

All of this was going straight to your core, which was now throbbing and begging for attention between your thighs. 

"Please, Zo'..." you whined, gripping his hair. "I need you to touch me."

With a cocky smile, the man nodded, slowly leaning forward to lay you down in the sand.

Your eyes flitted up to the torch lit beach across the water, realizing any eagle-eyed person could come out and see you naked.

"Wait... what if someone sees us?" you asked, uncharacteristically timid.

A devious smirk rose to his lips, and he pressed a reassuring kiss on your lips.

"Let 'em... They'll be in for a show."

Gently, he pried your thighs open, revealing your sobbing, wet core.

You watched his face change from playful to downright feral as he stared at your cunt.

You flushed at his expression.

'Gods, give me strength...'

"Zoro, I'm serious—"

He shushed you, leaning forward to press wet kisses along your inner thighs.

"No more talkin', pretty," he growled against them. "All I wanna hear is my name on your lips."

He continued to pepper you thighs in kisses while his hands pinned your legs apart, his hold on you firm.

He didn't want you hiding from him.

And it felt good.

You didn't stop him when he dove right into your pussy, first peppering your lips and clit in open-mouthed kisses as if he was making out with them.

It had been so long since the two of you'd gotten intimate like this, you nearly forgot the way the man worked his mouth.

Especially when he started to flick his tongue against your clit.

His tongue swirled around it and flicked it gently based on your responses.

And shit, you were responding well.

Your body couldn't help but react pleasantly to the sensations—your toes curling; your back arching; your eyes fluttering shut; your mouth falling open into an O as moans and gasps fell from your lips.

Zoro was not only good with his tongue, but good with his hands.

He reached up and played with your titties, tweaking and pinching your nipples according to your verbal cues.

"H-Harder, please!" you begged, to which he pinched the hard, brown peaks a little harder, the burst of pain making you gush all over his lips.

"Fuck, Zo'," you moaned. "That feels so good..."

Zoro hummed approvingly into your cunt, the vibrations making your clit quiver pleasurably.

"Keep feelin' good for me, pretty," he said between the wet flicks of his tongue on your rosebud. "Lean back and wrap your thighs around my head f'me."

Before you could even say anything, he was already tugging you closer by your ankle, earning a squeal from you.

He stood on his knees for a moment, taking you in.

His lust-blown eyes trailed up and down your naked form, drinking in every part of you.

Then he inhaled deeply, as if struggling to process the sight in front of him.

"Christ, you're so fuckin' gorgeous," he huskily said.

You had no idea what to say to that.

All you could do was shyly smile up at him as he stared down at you, both of you enchanted with each other.

Then he was ducking back down and throwing your thighs across his shoulders with ease, wrapping your legs around his head.

This gave him better access to your pussy so he could easily tongue-fuck you.

As soon as you felt the wet muscle entering your wet folds and his nose brush against your clit you were in heaven.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your hands found his hair, gripping the blonde strands as your hips began to grind shamelessly into his face.

"Mmm-hmmm," he hummed approvingly, keeping up the pace.

He didn't pause or slow down.

He continued to work your pussy just how you wanted, making you see stars behind your eyelids and cry to the moon above.

It didn't take long for that feeling of release to dawn on you.

You couldn't help it.

His tongue just felt too good.

Plus, the atmosphere and the whole idea of getting caught in such a risque position turned you on more than you'd like to admit.

Zoro must've realized you were close because his jaw started to move fast, accompanying his tongue-fucking with porn-worthy grunts of his own that nearly threw you over the edge.

"Fuck, Zoro!" you whined. "M'gonna come!"

Eagerly, he hummed into your pussy, pulling his tongue out of your hole and proceeding to suck on your clit while his finger began to stroke the outside of your slit, barely touching your insides.

But it was enough to push you further and further down that road to releasing all over him.

His darkened eyes flicked up to yours, staring you down between your thighs.

"Come for me," he demanded. "Come for me, baby. Don't fuckin' hold back."

He grinned up at you, his eyes glistening in the moonlight.

He attached his mouth to your pussy again, and ran it until you couldn't help but fall over the edge.

"Come for me," he groaned into your cunt, becoming gradually louder as your moans reached higher pitches. "Come for me. Come for me. Come for me."

And you finally did.

That tight knot in your core finally snapped and a wave of euphoria washed over you as you came all over Zoro's face and eager lips with a loud moan.

You saw the entire galaxy and beyond as your pussy gushed, your body shivering and shuddering.

Your back arched and your hips widened into Zoro's face, trying to keep as much of the feeling going as possible.

When it finally faded, you were left feeling tired, spent, and oh-so good.

Zoro lazily cleaned you up, taking care to not overstimulate you as he ran his tongue over your sensitive, twitching core.

Then he lifted his head up away from your thighs, giving you a peak of his chin and mouth shining in your juices.

With the moon in his glazed eyes, he hummed to himself.

"You taste better than the rum."

[carneliancorax]

"I am no longer so alone in the world, for this afternoon, as I was wandering the mountains a safe distance from the village where I planned to covertly acquire supplies when darkness fell, I came across a young man seated upon a twisted tree root. He was writing in a small book, so deeply absorbed in this activity that I was able to creep quietly up to him from behind until I came close enough to distinguish the markings he made on the page. For a moment I was disappointed that I could not comprehend the symbols he so carefully penned, and then curiosity overwhelmed me. Not expecting any answer but a cry of terror like those that still rung in my ears at night, I asked him, 'What are you writing?'

"He startled but a little and as he turned around to look at me, my heart filled with dread.

" 'I do apologize,' the man said in German, responding to my query in the language that I asked it. He continued with somewhat clumsy syntax. 'How rude of me! I didn't notice you were there.'

"This man is the first person who has not reacted to the sight of me in fright or violence. He even gave me his name, and asked mine, though I have none to give. He explained to me that this was his journal, which he was writing in a sort of code called shorthand, which greatly shortens the time taken to from each word on the page. What an ingenious thing! I asked many questions and Jonathan answered them all in satisfactory detail, as though he actually enjoyed our conversation.

"As we talked the light faded, taking with it what meagre warmth reaches these mountains during the day.

" 'It has been such a pleasure to talk with you," said Jonathan, rising at last from the tree where we'd been sitting side by side. 'Shall we return to the village? You are from the village, are you not?'

" 'No.' I touched one of the scars on my fingers and winced though it did not hurt. 'They... would not be kind to me there.'

"Jonathan's brow furrowed. 'Then where do you live? They tell me it's many miles to the next village.'

" 'I live here,' I said. 'I live nowhere.'

" 'My goodness.' He looked distressed. 'All alone? That's no way to live!' After a moment his expression cleared, and he offered a hand to help me stand. 'Tomorrow morning I leave here on my way to call on a count for some business of his. You are clearly an intelligent man, and I would be sad never to speak to you again. How would you like to come with me?'

"I write this now in my best attempt at the shorthand Jonathan showed me. In the morning, once his carriage is out of sight of the village, I will join him and hope he will teach it to me so I can write it as neatly as he does.

"Perhaps I am not so irredeemably disgusting if such a kind and earnest man as he wishes for my company."

now that i think about it, jonathan harker would’ve been a great character in frankenstein. he’s so completely oblivious to dracula’s red flag parade that he’d probably completely avert the creature’s murderous rampage by accidentally befriending him after spending a page and a half writing about some weirdly tall homeless guy with daddy issues he ran into

[littlelamy]

I got some thoughts spinning from seeing how Drew looks as Eugene in Queer with glasses and all. So Soft Nerdy Rafe request?  Very golden retriever-y, a bit shy and sweet. Maybe they are making out for the first time and….sweet nerdy rafe….switches up….not so shy. Ahhh it’s such a weakness when shy boys just become so forward, manly and give into their desires 💘🥹

a/n: AHHHHH! im so happy that you requested a nerd!rafe!!!!! i hope you like it ⭐️

the library was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights blending into the soft rustle of pages and distant murmurs. rafe cameron sat across from you, his glasses sliding down his nose as he frowned at the notebook in front of him. he was chewing on the edge of his thumb, a nervous habit you’d grown fond of, though it made you wonder if he realized how obvious he was being.

“you’re gonna wear your skin raw if you keep doing that,” you teased, nudging his foot under the table.

he looked up, startled, like you’d caught him mid-crime. “oh. right. sorry.” he dropped his hand, fiddling with his pen instead. “i’m just—this doesn’t make sense. none of it makes sense. why is calculus even a thing?”

you smiled, leaning forward to peek at his notes. his handwriting was neat, but his equations were a jumbled mess, arrows pointing in all directions. “you’re overthinking it,” you said, your voice soft. “here, look. you just forgot to carry the one.”

rafe groaned, his head falling onto the table with a dramatic thud. “i’m hopeless.”

“you’re not hopeless.”

“i am. you should just give up on me now.” his words were muffled by the wood, but you could still hear the pout in his voice.

“rafe.”

he peeked up at you, his cheek smushed against the table. “what?”

“you’re adorable when you’re dramatic, but you’re not hopeless.”

his face flushed a deep red, and he sat up quickly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m not adorable,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“you are,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “but if you really want to prove me wrong, maybe stop staring at my lips and focus on your math.”

his eyes went wide, his ears turning pink. “i wasn’t—I wasn’t staring at your lips!”

“you were,” you said, smirking. “it’s okay, though. i don’t mind.”

he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “you don’t?”

“nope.”

the air between you shifted, the tension palpable now. rafe’s gaze flicked to your lips again, this time more deliberate, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.

“you know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you could just kiss me instead of acting like you’re solving a physics problem.”

his jaw dropped, and for a second, you thought he might actually combust. “i—i could?”

you laughed softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “come here, rafe.”

he stood slowly, his movements awkward and unsure, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. when he rounded the table and slid onto the bench beside you, his knee bumped yours, and he froze, looking at you with wide, anxious eyes.

“is this… okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“more than okay,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

he hesitated for a moment longer, then leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most tentative kiss you’d ever experienced. his hands hovered near your waist, not quite touching, like he wasn’t sure where they belonged.

you deepened the kiss, your hand moving to his cheek, and he made a small, needy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, his hands settled on your hips, his grip uncertain at first but growing firmer as the kiss went on.

his lips were warm and slightly chapped, moving against yours in a rhythm that was both clumsy and endearing. but as the moments stretched, something shifted.

rafe pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and hunger. “is this… is this okay?” he asked again, his voice trembling.

“yes, rafe,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair.

that seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. when he kissed you again, it wasn’t tentative or shy—it was bold, almost desperate. his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the edges of your ribs, and his body pressed closer to yours, eliminating the small space that had existed between you.

you gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, his confidence growing with each passing second. his glasses slipped down his nose again, but he didn’t seem to care, too focused on the way your lips moved against his.

“you’re so… perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and husky now, a far cry from the nervous stammering he’d started with.

your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “you’re not so shy anymore.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his glasses crooked and his lips kiss-swollen. “guess you bring it out of me,” he said, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

“oh, so now you’re cocky?”

“maybe a little.” his grin widened, and he leaned in again, his lips finding yours with renewed fervor.

the kiss grew hungrier, his hands exploring more boldly now. one slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, while the other found the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

you let out a soft moan, and he responded with a low groan that vibrated against your lips. it was like a switch had flipped—gone was the shy, bumbling rafe, replaced by someone who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.

his tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for permission, and when you parted them, he deepened the kiss with a confidence that made your head spin.

“God,” he muttered, his voice breathless. “you’re incredible.”

you were too dazed to respond, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

time seemed to blur, the world outside the library fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on yours and the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your palm.

when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, his glasses fogged up, and his sweater slightly askew. “sorry,” he said, though the satisfied grin on his face suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

“for what?” you asked, still catching your breath.

“for not doing that sooner.”

you laughed, pulling him in for another kiss. “you’re such a dork.”

“your dork,” he murmured against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“yeah,” you said, your voice soft. “mine.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[rose24207]

sliding into the requests and asking for something where Mafia Lando gets jealous when some guy flirting with you and he dosnt find out till he walks on this guy flirting and reader and Lando aren't even dadting but it should be common knowledge reader is off limits. 🫦

Your work is in flick. Like seriously you're other fics are so good. 🤌

The Rookie’s Mistake

Summary: In which a Rookie makes a mistake by unknowingly flirting with someone that belongs to Lando.

Genre: Mafia!Lando

TW: Mafia

A/N: thank you soo much for the request and the feedback. It brings me joy to read the positive comments! I hope you like it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

It was late in the evening when you stepped into the dimly lit bar, the familiar hum of low conversation and clinking glasses greeting you.

The space was quiet, but that was how you liked it.

It was the kind of night where you could relax with a glass of wine, the weight of your thoughts temporarily lifting in the presence of a small crowd.

You’d been invited to this particular gathering, a casual evening among Lando’s men. They’d told you he was busy with something that couldn’t wait, as always.

But tonight, you weren’t upset by his absence. After all, you’d grown used to it.

You ordered your drink from the bar and settled in, letting your eyes scan the room.

Lando’s empire wasn’t easy to navigate, and most of his men understood that. They knew who you were—Lando’s—and they respected the boundaries that came with that. No one dared to flirt, not without serious consequences.

But the key word was most.

And tonight, it was a rookie’s turn to make a fatal mistake.

You saw him the moment he walked in—a fresh face among the usual crowd of hardened men.

His name was Luca.

You didn’t know much about him, except that he had just been assigned to Lando’s inner circle.

He looked cocky, sure of himself, his expensive jacket and confident gait announcing that he was more than just a rookie to him.

As you took another sip from your glass, you noticed him glancing in your direction.

There was an arrogance in his eyes that made something in your stomach tighten. He was the kind of guy who walked into a room and immediately thought he had the world at his feet.

Luca’s eyes flicked to you again.

This time, the look was different.

It was bold.

Too bold.

You raised an eyebrow, internally rolling your eyes. There was always one rookie who thought they could play it like that.

He sauntered over to where you were sitting, his smile broad and completely unaware of the invisible warning signs radiating from every person in the room.

Every one of Lando’s men who saw him move in your direction stiffened, exchanging wary glances.

They didn’t have to speak to each other—they knew better.

Luca, on the other hand, was too full of himself to notice.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little too close to your table as he flashed you a confident smile.

“I don’t think we’ve met. Name’s Luca.”

You looked up at him from your seat, coolly assessing him.

“I know who you are,” you replied, your voice calm, almost disinterested.

Luca chuckled, his smile widening. “Oh yeah? I guess I’m pretty memorable.”

He took a seat across from you without waiting for an invitation.

“You’re not from around here, are you? You don’t look like the usual crowd. More like… well, you’re too pretty to be hanging out with this lot.”

The comment made you roll your eyes inwardly. You’d heard worse from men who were actually worth your time, but Luca’s arrogance was another level. He didn’t even seem to care that the men who worked for Lando—who worked with Lando—were now all watching, a few of them with uneasy glances.

But none of them intervened yet.

No one dared.

“I’m not some random girl, if that’s what you’re implying,” you said, choosing your words carefully.

You wanted to make it clear, but without outright insulting him just yet.

“Of course, of course,” Luca replied, his voice smooth as silk, but there was a certain smugness to it now.

“I’m just saying… maybe you could use some company. It’s not every day you see someone so stunning walking around this place. What do you say? We grab a drink and see where things go?”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes.

The audacity.

He was so naive, thinking you’d fall for some charming line. This wasn’t your first encounter with men like him—but it was definitely one of the more brazen.

But before you could respond, you felt it.

A shift in the air.

A dark weight that wasn’t there just moments ago.

The subtle sound of boots hitting the floor, slow, deliberate.

Luca didn’t notice.

He was too busy leaning in, clearly enjoying the small audience of Lando’s men who were now holding their breath.

The rest of the crew, including Marco, the long-time veteran of the group, exchanged glances.

They all knew exactly what was going on, and none of them were about to step in.

Not unless things went south.

Then, just as Luca’s hand moved a little too close to yours, his words still echoing in your ears, a voice you knew all too well interrupted.

“Luca.”

The sound of Lando’s voice sent an immediate wave of tension across the room.

The entire group of men froze, but Luca, for all his arrogance, didn’t seem to realize what was happening until Lando’s figure appeared in the doorway.

Lando stood there, eyes dark, sharp, like an animal sensing its prey. His gaze flicked to Luca, and then to you.

The moment he saw your face, the storm that had gathered around him seemed to calm, just slightly.

His expression softened, but his eyes were still cold, piercing through Luca like daggers.

“Lando,” Luca said, rising quickly, wiping his hands on his pants as if trying to look more composed.

“It’s nothing, I was just—”

“Don’t,” Lando interrupted, his voice low, deadly calm. “I know exactly what you were doing.”

The men in the room stiffened, each of them understanding the unspoken command in Lando’s tone.

Luca looked a little less confident now, though he was still trying to salvage his dignity.

“You’re new here,” Lando continued, taking slow steps toward the table.

The air felt thick now, heavier with every move he made.

“But you should’ve learned by now that you don’t flirt with what’s mine.”

Luca blinked, his smile fading as he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation.

“Lando, I didn’t know—” Luca began, but his voice trailed off as Lando’s glare intensified.

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Lando said, his voice dangerously soft. “You didn’t know.”

You watched as Luca’s face flushed, all the confidence he had been exuding evaporating in an instant.

Lando was not someone to be messed with, and everyone in this room had known that from the start.

Lando’s eyes didn’t leave Luca for a moment. He gestured to the door with a sharp, almost imperceptible motion.

“Get out,” he ordered, his voice icy. “And don’t come back until you’ve learned some respect.”

Luca’s face contorted into a mix of frustration and embarrassment, but he knew better than to argue.

He quickly mumbled a hasty apology and made a retreat toward the door, his shoulders hunched in defeat.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the tension in the room lifted, but only slightly. Marco’s eyes met Lando’s, a quiet understanding passing between them. It was the kind of unspoken language only Lando’s men understood—the kind of trust that ran deeper than words.

Lando turned to face you, his gaze softening, the dangerous edge fading.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, exhaling the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “I’m fine.”

Lando’s jaw tightened, his eyes still a little too intense. “No one touches what’s mine, Y/N. Not even the rookies.”

You smiled faintly, letting your gaze soften. “I know.”

And for a moment, it was just the two of you in the room. All the chaos, all the power, all the danger seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the quiet hum of the bar and the unspoken promise in Lando’s eyes.

You were his. And in this world of shadows and blood, nothing was ever going to change that.

Thank you for reading!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Isekai Reader, looking at the half-bitten cookie: .....

Isekai Reader, looks at Damian and Duke: Are you guys sure none of you put anything in here?

Alfred, checking their temperature: I was with them the whole time and any type of liquid that should not be in my kitchen is strictly prohibited

Isekai Reader looks at the transparent couple behind the two boys: I think I saw Bruce's parents... am I high?

Damian: what are you blabbering at?

Isekai Reader: Ya deaf boy? I said I can see your grandmother and granfather from your father's side who is behind you

Alfred, concerned(a bit hopeful too): are you sure?

Martha looks at her husband: How bout you tell him this so he can believe you dear, he is the only one who knows of this

Isekai Reader: hey Mr. Alfred wanna know what miss Martha told me?

Alfred: I'm afraid I don't know would you care to?

Isekai Reader: Wanna bet?

.....

Alfred:....

Alfred, clears his throat: Ahem, I will appreciate it if you don't tell this to any of them no matter what the cost

Isekai Reader: Don't worry I won't traumatize your already traumatized grandkids even more

.....

Bruce: should we send you to a therapist?

Isekai Reader: you're coming with me then

Bruce: absolutely not

Isekai Reader: Then no♥️

Isekai reader either high as balls or actually seeing ghosts? More news at 5.

Isekai! Reader/ you: after all you’ve been through, have any of you ever been to therapy before? Like genuinely gone and or considered going?

Bruce: I’m rich

Dick: once or twice but then I remember that I have to open up. No thanks.

Jason: why pay for therapy when killing crime lords and drug dealers is completely free.

Damian: therapy is beneath me.

Tim: what’s that? Never heard of it.

Duke: I missed one session! One!

Isekai! Reader/ you: if I had money I’d open up a hospital and shove you all inside it. not you Duke, you’re my favourite right now.

Duke: :)

…

-I love this concept, thanks anon-

Isekai! Reader/you: *seeing Martha and Thomas again as they watched over Bruce* fuck sake I’m high again.

*martha and Thomas resting their hands on their son’s shoulders, smiling at him*

Isekai! Reader/ you: *feeling a little sentimental* awww. They’re watching over their baby boy. *smiles softly*

Bruce, noticed: why you smiling.

Isekai! Reader/ you: just remembering how stupid you looked when dressed up as nightwing.

Bruce: Dick and Jason showed you the pictures?

Isekai! Reader/ you: that suit was struggling to keep itself together and I thought your whole asshole was going to fall out if honestly is what your after.

Bruce: it was a phase! *buries head into hands*

Isekai! Reader/ you: that’s what they all say, but you dressing up as a bat and beating people so bad they’re left in a comatose state has to be the longest phases you’ve been in. Ever.

…

Jason: *does anything*

Isekai! Reader/ you: I can take him.

Duke: in a fight right?

Isekai! Reader/ you: :)

Duke, scared: in a fight right?!

Bruce, from a distance: STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!

Isekai! Reader/ you: I WILL FUCK YOUR SON WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT! HES TOO FINE TO BE LEFT SINGLE! ITS CRIMINAL!

Duke: …

Bruce: …

Jason: :)

…

Bruce: what you got there?

Isekai! Reader/ you: a big ass plushie that’s half my body height. *picks said plushie up and squeezes it*

Damian: are you a child?

Isekai! Reader/you: unlike you I had actually got to experience a childhood…at least I think…I can’t remember most of it but I’m sure that’s normal.

Bruce: …

Damian: …

Duke: I’m pretty sure that having gaps in your memory in regards of your childhood isn’t healthy nor a good reflection on your childhood. I could be wrong though so don’t take my word for it.

Isekai!reader/ you: …consider this healing the inner child with a rich man’s credit card.

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

slumber party

bestfriend!abby x bestfriend!reader

summary: your best friend abby calls you up for a sleepover after having not spent time together in months.

clingy!abby, friends to lovers, college!abby, college!reader, fem!reader, y/n used once, medicalstudent!abby, fluff, minor angst but mostly it's one sided, no specific descriptions of reader other than them being shorter than abby and having their hair uncovered at night

wc: 3.2k

Abigail anderson. Your best friend since primary school. Your longest friendship. Your longest crush.

You hadn't always had a crush on Abby. Sure you loved her, but only really as a friend. That was, until junior year of highschool when her body had started noticeably changing. She started working out more, her biceps bulging through every tshirt. She had a growth spurt too, now almost towering over you. You yourself weren't that short but her stature made for a quite prominent difference.

You weren't usually shallow, But c'mon. Abby was already one of the best persons in your life; smart, caring, trustworthy. Turns out you only needed that little extra push to transform your platonic admiration for her into something else. This had been going on for 5 years and you had zero intention of ever letting her know.

It would just be way too risky, confessing something like that. What if she wanted to cut you off? What if she was disgusted by your feelings? What if being friends for so long bit you in the ass and she saw you more like a sister?!

And plus, dropping something like that on her when she was already swept up by her studies to become a doctor most of the time, would be horrible. You figured, you just had to let the feelings die. Of course it was taking much longer than expected, going onto the 6th year of having said crush, but it just had to be done.

So when Abby told you her dad would be out of town and that you should sleep over, you found yourself at a crossroads. You could go, and spend time with your best friend and it be a great night. Or you could go and be so incredibly uncomfortable hiding your feelings.

"Come on, we haven't had a slumber party in ages. I feel like we're always so busy we barely have any time for each other anymore. which is crazy for us!" Abby suggested as she spoke to you over the phone.

Yeah, totally not because I've been purposefully distancing myself to get rid of this festering crush.

You responded, "I mean , don't you have studying to do? I'll just distract you."

"Dont worry about me. Plus, you wouldn't distract me, you never do." She replied with her honey-like voice that would never cease to make you melt.

"We both know that's a lie but sure." You gave in. It was your best friend. Plus you really hadn't had time together in the past few months.

It was just a sleepover with Abby. All you had to do was act normal and it'd be fine. It's just Abby.

Abby answered the door when you arrived, immediately pulling you in a for a hug, stating how much she missed you and how long its been since you properly hung out, just the two of you.

"This place hasn't changed at all." you say, looking around at the familiar picture frames of her and her dad still plastered in their same spots on the walls.

"Yeah, we're both pretty busy all the time so," she trailed off. "You want anything to drink?" she asked, grabbing your overnight bag from you and heading to place it in her room.

"Nah, but I'll help myself, it's fine." you respond, following her into her room.

Her room has seen a few minor changes, none of which younwerent aware of though. It might have been years since you actually set foot into her bedroom, but you still saw it regularly. During your as frequent as possible facetime calls, you got to see through her camera the little changes she'd make to her walls. Even got to help in the decision process sometimes.

"It's been a while since you've been in here huh?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyeing you as you peered at all her stuff.

"Yeah, cant believe how long it's been." you replied, distracted by the sheer amount of personality visible on her walls and desk.

Her college textbooks neatly tucked away on the side of her desk in a stack, near her pencil holder that held various shades of highlighters and pens. There were multiple pictures on the wall directly above her desk, along with many post it's of medical terms. Most of them were of her and her dad, or of her dog froma. few years ago, Alice. But right in the middle there were two of you and her. One from when you were much younger, closer to the time you first became friends and the other from your highschool graduation.

You made a mental note to take more pictures with her once you overcame your crush.

You looked around for a moment more, realising there was no mattress or anything on the ground. Sure, you slept on the same bed together before but that was when you were kids. Years ago.

"Soooo should I sleep on the couch or the ground?" you asked jokingly, secretly hoping she'd actually have an answer.

She laughed, "Oh come on, it might've been some time but we're not strangers." she joked with her beautiful smile.

Fuck.

You chuckled at this, hoping it seemed genuine and didn't expose the fear you felt of being so close to her for so long. Abby, however, noticed your shift in energy. Choosing not to say anything, she promptly changed the subject.

"Alright, what's for dinner?" she got up from the bed and led you both back out to the living room. Grabbing the TV remote, she put on one of her rnb playlists. "I was thinking we could cook something, chat and catch up for a bit then maybe watch a movie or something."

Gosh, she'd really thought this through. "Abby I hope that you don't have outstanding assignments due while you're doing all of this," you scolded her, already getting back into the groove of things.

She sighed, "Uugggghhh no, mom. I'll have you know that I am actually very ahead of my assignments. And even if I were behind, I'd still wanna be hanging with you tonight."

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she came around your frame to hug you from behind. You forgot how physically affectionate she was, and how much you missed it. You tried to not lean into it too much. The last thing you needed right now was to give yourself any false hope.

"I just- I really need this right now," she said with a sigh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, dropping her head on your shoulder. You were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings that you hadn't even stopped to think about how stressful school and everything must be for her. You turned your head slightly towards her, faces mere inches away from each other.

"I really need this right now and you're so fucking tense that I can't even give you a proper hug!" she stated, attacking you with tickles.

You screamed in laughter as she jammed her fingers into your sides, not giving up her mission to make you laugh. You tried running away but her grip on you was too strong, as expected of abby. Your attempts, however, did lead you to toppling over the couch, with her on top of you. She continued tickling you as you laughed, both smiling wide.

Through squeals and breaths you tried to reason it her, "Okay! Okay stop."

"There she is," she smiled, finally halting the tickles. You looked up at her, trying so very hard not to grab her by the collar and kiss her stupid.

She sat up, straddling your hips as you still lay on the couch, breathing heavily. You raised your head slightly, looking her directly in the eyes.

Gathering her breath, she started, "Okay. Now tell me, what's going on with you?" she asked, pushing her flyaways behind her ears.

Confused you asked, "Me?"

"Mhmm, you've been all distant and weird around me for quite some time." she supplied, hands resting on her thighs. her big, muscular thighs. snap out of it!

Shit, she noticed. "I-" you didn't know how to respond.

Worry evident on her face she continued, "Did I do something? Because if I did you gotta let me know, i- I've been so focused on school and-"

"No! no, n- it's not anything you've done. don't worry" you answered, "I guess I've just been feeling a bit...." you pulled something out your ass quickly, "lonely, lately."

Not entirely wrong. It was gonna have to work.

"I'm sorry." she replied, empathy clear on her face as she leaned forward to hold your arms. "But hey, I guess this came at the perfect time then huh? You won't be lonely tonight, I'll make sure of it. 'kay? Now let's go make something and you have to tell me everything that's been going on with you." she pat your thighs before coming off. Her weight would be a missed presence on your lap.

The music played at a comfortable volume as you two easily maneuver around the kitchen, cooking up a simple pasta dish. You talked about anything and everything, fully catching each other up on what the other had missed in their lives. In all your attempts at dodging her and keeping your distance, you'd forgotten why you two were best friends in the first place.

Abby was easy to talk to. She always knew how to cheer you up and how to comfort you. As did you to her. When you would hang out, there was always fun to ensue. Which is exactly why you fell in love with her. But as you were here, having chopped and prepared all the other ingredients and awaiting the water to boil, dancing and laughing around the kitchen hand in hand with Abby, you decided that just for tonight you could forget the complications that having a crush on Abby would cause and just lean into your best friend whom you missed so much.

When the meal was done, you both retreated to the couch where you sat closely next to each other in search of a movie to watch.

"I feel like nothing looks good," Abby stated, as she kept scrolling through the site.

"We could always hate watch something?" you suggested cheekliy, knowing that Abby was already not a big movie person and that it would be an utter waste of time for her to watch one that wasn't good.

"Ha ha very funny." she deadpanned, "What's that one you always wanted to watch when we were younger? Let's just watch that."

"Are you sure? Because you'll have to put up with me quoting almost the entire thing. And singing all of the songs." you weren't really asking seeing as she had already found the film, Tangled, and was ready to press play.

"I'll be fine pumpkin."

She hadn't called you that name in years. It was nice to hear it again.

As promised you quoted almost all of the movie, under your breath though, so as to not annoy Abby too much. It was more like a light whisper/lipsync. Unbeknownst to you, while you were thoroughly enjoying what was one of your favourite movies ever, Abby hadn't even been paying attention. She'd been looking at you for the majority of the film's runtime, only looking at the screen when you turned to look at her and found her not focused enough.

"You're missing important character development here Abby, he bought the apples for maximus!"

After the movie you both cleaned the dishes, then went to her room.

Another thing you forgot to consider in all your rumination, showering. You and Abby weren't the shower together type of best friends but it was definitely a 'not a big deal if we see each other naked' type of deal. So you'd often change into and out of clothes in front of each other with no problems. If the whole night so far wasn't gonna do it, this would be the fucking nail in the coffin. Abby, changing out of her clothes, right in front of you.

You didn't want to come off as suspicious by clearly turning away but you also didn't want to feel like a perv and look at her in her underwear, knowing full well that you wished it were under different circumstances. So you opted for casually directing your attention to somewhere else in the room as she stood naked a few feet in front of you.

"I guess I'll go in first," she annouced grabbing her towel and leaving the room.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you quickly undressed and wrapped your towel around your body. You sat at the edge of her bed and waited for her to be done as you tried to calm your nerves.

It absolutely did not help your nerves when she stepped out of the bathroom and into her room, glistening from the shower. Muscles on full display, unbraided hair cascading down her back while some stuck to her face. She looked like a goddess. You quickly got up and headed into the shower, leaving her in her room to change.

It was like the more you decided to just let go of your feelings for Abby, the more she'd do things that made you fall for her all over again. You ended up taking way longer than usual in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to face her again while also trying to steady your heart rate.

Finally exiting the bathroom, changed and ready for bed, she closed the door, took off her bedroom light and hopped in right next to you. At first you both stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling, before she broke the silence.

"I'm really glad you were able to come," she expressed, turning on her side to face you.

You mimicked her position, scooting a little closer to the middle of the bed. "I'm glad I did."

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment, really taking the other in, before you spoke up again.

"You said you really needed this, what's going on with you?" you asked, poking a finger into her arm.

She looked down at where you touched her arm then back up into your eyes. Sighing with a smile, she responded, "School has been kinda stressful I guess, but to tell you the truth, I just missed you." She scooted closer to you, moving her hand from under her head to caressing yours.

No. She meant that as a friend of course. Do not get your hopes up again.

"You're tense again." she pointed out, hand still laying on your hair.

God, why was she so perceptive?!

"No I'm not?" you scoffed. Your deflection did not work on her.

"Yes you are. You've got that look in your eye again," she continued caressing your hair, "What's going on up there?"

You sat up, pulling away from her touch. She followed you in sitting upright on the bed.

You knew that lying about everything being fine would not work any better than it's been all day, so you figured you'd at least give her something.

"If I tell you, you might not want to hang around me anymore."

She looked at you incredulously. How could you ever think something like that? "Did you kill someone or something?" she teasingly suggested with a laugh, that being the only plausible situation in her head. She didn't miss how you looked at her, amusement absent on your face.

"Sorry, I just- no matter what it is, I won't stop being your friend y/n." she said seriously, one hand moving to touch your thigh.

"Please don't, because if I tell you and you really don't wanna be associated with me anymore it'll just hurt more." you barely got out, eyes becoming teary. You knew you were scared of something like this happening. Your increasing heartbeat and glassy eyes further proved just how terrified this made you.

If Abby wasn't worried before, she certainly was now. "Hey, I get to decide who stays in my circle and who doesn't okay?" She cradled your face.

You shook your head, still not giving into confession. "Everything's gonna change and I don't want it to so let's just forget it."

"If things have to change...then I'll just make sure it's for the better." How could she be so reassuring without even knowing what was going to be said? She held your chin, tilting your head to look at her.

With a sigh, you finally gave in, "I feel so much..love.....for you..since high school. And it's only gotten worse recently. I swear I've tried making it go away, I've tried so much. I don't wanna be a bad friend by springing this on you but i also know that trying and failing to hide it isnt doing me any favours either so.." Tears were streaming down your face, your sniffles becoming the most prominent sound in the room.

"And now because you know, things are never gonna be the same and I just wish I'd been better at hiding it. I wish I never had these feelings in the first place. Then this wouldn't be happening and I wouldn't have to lose my best friend right after we had so much fun together."

Abby was silent. Staring into your eyes, her expression unreadable. She looked down into her lap, a small smile growing on her lips, before looking back up at you.

She leaned forward till there was barely space in between the two of you. Abby glanced down at your lips then back up to your eyes, making it clear what she was referring to. "Can I?"

Your heart rate was through the roof. There's no way she wanted this too. "Are you not.. worried about how things are gonna be between us now?"

"I said I'd make sure the change was for the better, didn't I?"

"You can."

In what felt like zero time, Abby carefully crashed her lips onto yours. Her lips were soft, her touch gentle. It was exactly what you imagined this to be like.

Gently pulling away, she wiped your tears with her thumb, looking at you with so much love in her eyes you swore the rest of the world would now be void of it.

Through sniffles and smiles you apologized, "Sorry hah, I'm a mess."

"Did you really think I couldn't love you?" Abby asked, holding your face in her hands. "I've loved you before I even knew what love was, pumpkin."

Her efforts to wipe your tears were now fruitless, your eyes pouring out streams of emotion.

She pulled you in for a hug. This time, a proper one, without the weight of what could have been laying on your entire being. You shared one more kiss, Abby then kissing your forehead as you both lay down to finally sleep. A sleep void of worries and stress.

You were actually hers.

soooo sorry if that was basically 95% buildup for 5% payoff. I totally wrote this in a whim at late hours of the night. anyway, hope you enjoy. requests are open! to those whove requested, I am working on your stuff so have no fear :>

[faelapis]

first three eps of the season were good. after that, arcane season two just completely fell apart.

it ignored all themes of oppression, police violence, cait's slip into fascism, the zaunite revolution, etc. all in its need to introduce a bunch of pointless league lore and create 762 new storylines, despite only having one season to tell them. and so it told zero of them well.

idgaf about the black rose. idgaf about it suddenly being about stopping the robot uprising. idgaf about warwick (vander is effectively already dead. the only purpose of this false hope was to bring him in line with league canon). ambessa started off as an interesting character, but as soon as the caitlyn storyline fell apart, so did any motivation of hers that actually made sense.

jinx became a tragically pointless character who ended up in the exact same self hatred-spiral she started the season in. except instead of being brought on by silco's death, now it's isha's death. sevika gets a pointless minority seat on the council, but it's only one seat, with no assurances that anything will actually change for zaun. ekko gets no character arc whatsoever. he's just a generic good guy who does good guy stuff. the viktor/jayce story had a sweet ending, but it took up far too much screentime in a show whose main characters are supposed to be vi and jinx. vi never gets to have a moment where she either accepts or learns from her failures. she ends up a surprisingly passive role the entire season, which could serve an interesting internal character arc, but that never happens. her only "arc" is to be comforted by her cop gf.

and really that is the original sin here. because the season's first three episodes promised so much about cait. it promised not just her slip into authoritarianism, but to explore why and what impact it has on her relationship with vi. who vi wants to be, in relation to this person and this system.

this image is the embodiment of what i wanted this season to be. it's a conscious reference to macbeth, the shakespearian tragedy in which the main character's obsession with becoming king and remaining in control results in war and bloodshed. if told carefully, it could be brilliant commentary on cait, on fascism, on social hierarchies, personal trauma and the nature of power.

we get none of that. instead, her fascism arc is lazily resolved by just undoing it as soon as she sees vi again - and no, this does not count as a "love conquers all" resolution. i'm not opposed to that ending! but cait's heel-turn came out of nowhere!! it felt like a cowardly move on the writers part, because they didn't want to make viewers uncomfortable with the main ship.

vi became a complete mush of a character. she just reacts to whatever others (mainly cait) does. she has no motivations of her own. and like i already said, this does not fuel a compelling arc about her depression or trauma. the question of whether she should believe in others never goes anywhere. except of course, to be comforted by cait. so vi, in her own right, does not exist for any narrative purpose this season. she just... is sad and looks good. she puts on her big punching gloves and does a few show fights. download league of legends. unlock the depressed punk vi dlc costume today.

[phthalomushroom]

The Family (7)

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, shooting, gunfight, injury, angst

word count: 1.2k

note: hi all, apologies for not posting for a bit, life got crazy and I low-key got the ick... as well as writers block... but I will persevere. Enjoy this chapter I will do my best to get back to weekly posts!

You couldn’t get those boxes out of your head. All the baby toys, the clothes, the crib. It was the only thing you could see as you stared at the dark wall across from where you sat on the bed. Luckily, you had texted Baela about the situation and she was on her way with Jace to come pick you up.

A part of you felt bad for ruining their date night but you were NOT going to stay the night here. 

Especially not in this room.

Aemond and Alys’s shared bedroom looked nothing like you would have imagined. Not that you would even think to imagine it- actually you never even thought that they’d actually live together at all.

Even though there seemed to be no evidence of Aemond’s fiancée downstairs, there was plenty of evidence in this room. Pictures of the two together littered the walls, the nightstands, the dresser. Evidence of their clearly real and loving relationship.

And to your dismay it fucking hurt. 

Alys would be a mother to Aemond’s child, she would be the strong wife he always needed and you would be a memory, a brief moment in his life. 

Nothing more than a highschool sweetheart.

A silent, cold anger seemed to fizzle in the pit of your stomach, like a rattling snake setting to strike.

You were just a phase but yet your life seemed to be in danger again. 

Lies were being told again. 

Secrets were being kept again.

The door to the room opened, Aemond coming in with mugs of something steaming. 

“I think I should go.” You crossed your arms, your tone rattled a warning.

Aemond looked up, brows furrowing. He set the mugs on the dresser and put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t care what you want.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

You uncrossed your arms ready to strike. “I’m tired of this shit.”

“What are you talking about?”

It wasn’t a lie, you did feel tired, tired of trying to be an adult and tired of being the bigger person. At some point you were bound to start telling the truth, you needed to. “She’s pregnant.”

He arched his brow. “What?”

You stood from the bed. “I saw the room, the boxes of baby stuff. I saw it all.”

He frowned. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You stepped closer. “Don’t know what I’m talking about? I know that I’m talking about how you fucking proposed to Alys Rivers. I’m talking about how you asked me to marry you and that doesn’t seem to fucking matter anymore. I’m talking about the fact that you got her pregnant and now I’m going to have to fucking live in the same city as you, your wife and your child. And that none of what we went through together matters.” You took a deep breath. 

Why is it not me? Desperately you wanted to say it but you just couldn’t let yourself open up to him all the way yet. Not with the room full of a future that wasn’t yours next door.

He looked at you incredulously. “You… you never wanted this life.”

“But I always wanted you.”

He continued to stare at you, like he was looking at you for the first time since you had arrived back.

You began to feel self conscious, maybe you said too much. “Say something.” 

He rushed forward grabbing your face in his large hands and pressing his mouth against yours. You froze, not processing what was happening until his tongue pushed into your mouth and he tangled his hands in your hair pulling you even closer to him. Your arms instinctively reached up grabbing the front of his shirt as he was finally knocked out of his daze.

His arms moved down your body, grabbing and squeezing at whatever flesh he could find until he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked you back towards the bed, setting you down- never breaking the kiss. 

He finally pulled away, allowing you to breathe, both of you panting trying to catch your breaths as you stared at one another.

Too familiar, this all felt too familiar. Your heart pounded as you let yourself fall into old habits. 

His gaze was soft as he reached out to caress your face, brushing a stray hair out of your face. “I will always want you too.”

Your chest tightened as he leaned closer, his kiss gentle this time. But as soon as it started it ended, Aemond pulling away to lean his forehead against yours to take a deep breathe. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your arms.

“But I made a promise to Alys and there’s things I need to take care of before-”

You fully pulled away, moving out from under him to get off of the bed. “What.”

“There are things that I need to do, promises I need to keep in order to-to make sure your safe, to make sure everything is safe and protected.”

You stared at him like he had three heads. “What the fuck are you talking about right now Aemond?”

He moved to get up to pull you to him but you stepped away. “I just need time, just give me time.”

“You had time, almost five years of it and it seems in that time you can’t even get your fucking lies straight.”

“It’s complicated okay, the less people know the better. Just try to trust me, please.”

You stared at him in disbelief. It was like you were having two different conversations. “Is this about business or is this about love?”

“What?”

“Is it business or is it love?”

“(Y/N)-”

“Is it business or is it love, Aemond, that’s all I want to know.” 

“It’s complicated.”

Your eyes burned. Fucking unbelievable. “Clearly. But the only person making it complicated here is you. Why can’t it ever be fucking easy with you Aemond? Why can’t you ever tell me the truth?” 

He tried to get closer to you. “You know nothing about what is going on. What I am trying to fix, what I am trying to build for-for us.” He reached out to take your hands in his. “I am doing everything in my power to make things right, to make us right but I need more time. Just a little more time.”

You shook your head. “She’s pregnant Aemond, you are out of time.”

Your phone chimed with a text, you quickly pulled it out of your pocket. “That’s Baela, she’s here with Jace.” 

“(Y/N)-”

“I am done with the nonsensical answers. I am done with the empty words. I am done with all of it. I never should have come back here, never should have taken that stupid fucking job. I certainly never should have ever let you into my life.”

Tears were beginning to fall now, tears that were long overdue. After so long of bottling it up, after so long of being okay it wasn’t okay anymore. You were broken. You turned to leave, going past the soon to be nursery, going down the stairs, grabbing your bags that you had left and walked straight out of Aemond and Aly’s home. 

When you got into Jace’s car, it took everything in you to not fully break down as Baela turned to you from the passenger's seat and asked you what was wrong. 

You just shook your head and simply said. “She’s pregnant.”

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @namelesslosers @tssf-imagines @xcharlottemikaelsonx @yourbane @beary-rambles @a-beaverhausen @lightblindingme

[raptorific]

Okay, let me make this really easy for you: there is no option available to her that would stop this rule being enforced against her or against these hypothetical staffers everyone seems so concerned about. She cannot let them get away with doing it to her, and to every other transgender government employee, because they have gotten away with it. The time when it could've been stopped was a few weeks ago, in the elections. Sorry. We failed. The good guys lost. There is nothing she, or anybody other than the Republican House Majority, can do to change this rule or prevent its enforcement until there is no longer a Republican Majority in the house.

Here are the options, the only options, available to her

She can comply with the unjust rule, giving the Republicans nothing to enforce against her, and allowing her to do the job she was elected to do without being a piece in their weird culture war games. If she holds to this line, then the people targeting her come off as weird, obsessive bullies, and their constituents are left wondering why the people of Delaware have a Representative who's working for them while THEIR representative is off tilting at a transgender windmill who won't give them the time of day

She can resign her post in protest of the unjust rule, taking the number of trans people in congress from 1 to 0, or

She can violate the unjust rule, and the Speaker of the House can order her penalized and dragged out of the bathroom by the Sergeant At Arms. She's photographed being dragged out of the bathroom, and the Republicans gleefully prop her up as proof that trans women simply can't resist barging into women's rooms even when they've been directly ordered to stay out. The Republican Majority, in response, now bolstered by a substantial Rhetorical Victory with the public in this asinine debate, introduces legislation for federal laws restricting restroom access not only in government buildings, but in all buildings. This legislation passes in the republican-controlled legislature, it is signed into law by President Donald Trump, and any challenges to it are defeated but he conservative supreme court. Trans rights are set back a full century in this country.

The Republicans-- you know, the ones who are actually doing this-- really want #2 or #3 to happen. They are not happy that she said "I will comply with the rule." They desperately, desperately want to see a transgender woman break this rule, because if that happens, they get everything they want.

Like, put even an ounce of thought into it. In none of those situations do the Republicans say "aw gawrsh, I guess we CAN'T control her after all, on account of her Gumption. Guess we gotta let trans staffers pee where they want." That's the big secret. They don't actually care where trans people go to the bathroom. They are telling them "you're not welcome in the Capitol." Sarah McBride has answered with a resounding "make us as unwelcome as you like, we're staying."

Don't be stupid on this post because I will turn off reblogs, but it is truly illuminating to see Republicans explicitly lay a transphobic trap to frame their transgender coworker in a negative light (because they currently possess the authority to do so without consequences), see the transgender coworker say "I see the trap they've set for me and I will be stepping around it rather than directly into it," and have people online overwhelmingly respond like "wow, she's such a traitor to the community, letting them decide where she walks."

[scarletemeterio]

Wanting for More (Ekko x gn!reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Fandom: Arcane

Summary: Ekko sees you asleep and covers you with a blanket

Word count: 767

•••

You both had lost track of time, that was obvious. You two had been working on something in Ekko's workplace for a few hours, and a while ago you decided to take a break and lie down for a bit.

He'd been really concentrated in his work, but he suddenly realized he hadn't heard you in a while, so he decided to take a look at you, only to find out you'd fallen asleep. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, looking so peaceful and dreamy. This wasn't the first time Ekko got lost in his thoughts while staring at you, it was quite common actually, or it had been lately at least.

There was something more than just friendship between you two, you both knew that. But neither of you had the courage to do something about it, and both of you were scared, too. It seemed easier to not act on your feelings and just enjoy the relationship you already had, but the wanting for more was starting to be unbearable for him. He wanted you to be his, as much as he wanted to be yours.

No one understood him like you did, and no one supported him and trusted him like you did. You two had known each other for years now, since you were one of the first ones to join the Firelights, and from that day his life was never the same again. Ekko was genuinely happy when you were around, he saw hope in you, maybe even a future together. When you two were together, he wasn't the Firelights' leader, he was just Ekko, he could relax around you. In a world like yours, having someone like that was a privilege.

He got out of his thoughts when he realized you were curled up into a ball, clearly cold. He quickly got up and looked for a blanket, and when he found it he covered you with it. He got down to your level, next to the bed, and put a strand of hair behind your ear, putting it away from your face and leaving his hand on your shoulder. He smiled again, feeling grateful for having you in his life and being able to share these little moments.

You got a bit startled by his touch and slowly opened your eyes, seeing Ekko at eye level with you.

"Hey," you said in almost a whisper, and he replied with a shy smile. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I have no idea, I just found you a couple minutes ago", he replied, while caressing your shoulder a bit.

You still felt sleepy, but you could see how tired he was, his eyes could never lie, and definitely not to you.

"You should get some sleep, Ekko", you told him. "Here, I'll move so you can fit in here." You did as you said, leaving space for him to hop on the bed and lie down next to you. This wasn't uncommon between the two of you, but lately the tension in these moments had become obvious, even if you tried to ignore it. Still, you were so tired you didn't really care right now, you just wanted to go back to sleep.

"I should keep working."

"Just shut up and come here, working can wait." He was a very self-demanding person, but he knew you were right, so he took off his shoes and did as you said.

You ended up being face to face, and you could feel your heart beating really fast, like it was gonna explode. You closed your eyes and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Thank you for the blanket", you murmured, loud enough for him to hear.

"Anytime", he answered, wrapping his arm around you.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed his warmth and his touch, wishing you could stay like this forever. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep again, and he could tell from the way you were breathing. He gave you a little kiss on the forehead, savouring every second with you in his arms.

"You mean the world to me", he whispered. He imagined sleeping like this every night and couldn't help but smile. He knew life was hard and that the world was dangerous, but he also knew he couldn't live in fear and put a stop to his own life just to help and save others. He knew he had to tell you how he felt, and find a bit of hope with you amongst all the chaos that surrounded you.

•••

okay so this is my first arcane post. i haven't written in a while so i'm a bit rusty and english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy this!

requests are officially open for arcane characters, you can check my rules in my profile!

[stylespresleyhearted]

WON’T ANYBODY HELP US? WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?

Summary : the beginning of Benny Cross & his favorite nurse.

warnings: language, stereotypical 60’s attitudes, sickness/illness, references to lupus but not explicitly said, references to suicidal thoughts/wanting to give up blink and you miss it

“Your favorite patient is causin’ trouble again.”

Tania smacks her gum against the roof of her mouth as she passes by the occupied lunch table. There’s a loaded sandwich sitting in front of you - only two bites in but it seemed like your lunch would be cut early.

Wednesdays were usually your favorite day of the week but today had been nothing short of chaos every step of the way. The system had gone down multiple times and the added minutes were causing everyone to get grumpier than usual. It was only fifteen minutes ago that someone had walked to the check in desk and deemed you incompetent of doing your job. Sawyer had stepped in and allowed you reprieve for a quick lunch shortly after but now that was cut short as well.

Of course you didn’t have to go. But you weren’t sure what Tania meant by ‘causing trouble’ and it caused anxiety to swirl in the pit of your stomach.

Instead of throwing the sandwich back into the cooler you decided on bringing it along with you. It was too delicious to leave behind and by the time you got home you knew food would be the last thing on your mind. Your bed was already calling your name.

“Floor 3, Room 11A,” Sawyer supplied helpfully when you passed the help desk, figuring he would be in the same room as usual. The one furthest from the main area.

Grateful, you give her a smile and mouth a thank you.

Two flights of stairs and an endless hallway later you find yourself at his room door. Doctor Martin sits beside him on a stool, elevated taller than the other man although there’s actually a four inch difference. Now that you’re aware they aren’t killing one another it’s easy to take a step back and rest against the doorway; to take him in as is.

Benny was externally the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. Golden hair always shining in the sun, fluffed enough to show he had run a brush through it but messy with strings of hair flat out to show he didn’t care too much what he looked like. Oil splattered his jeans and undershirt and over the corner chair you were able to see his jacket strewn over the back. His eyes caught in the sunlight streaming in through the one window in the room, blue eyes catching green and golden specks at certain angles.

Martin must have requested him to take his jacket off. That alone would have warranted a blow out but it seemed Benny had consented to take his colors off for once.

“Doc.” Dragged back from your thoughts by Benny turning his attention towards you, catching you when you were inspecting his jacket.

You smile big, happy to see him if anything.

“She isn’t a doctor here,” Martin says. From here you can see he’s pulling the stitches across Benny’s skin and bone with none of the tenderness required to avoid scarring. “She’s a nurse.”

It’s said like an insult but you decide against rising to the bait. Martin’s usually much kinder, he must be upset he was the one left caring for Benny.

“I can take it from here, Doctor Martin,” you offered, taking a few steps closer in hopes that he would hand over the needle. “I overheard something about a crash on the highway. I’m sure they’re going to require your assistance soon.”

“He was in last week for ripping the stitches on his left knuckles.” Martin throws both gloves into the medical compartment beside him. “He’s in today for - oh yeah, the same damn thing.”

“What’s your point?” It’s Benny who speaks up, the hand in your hold curling in anger and not pain.

Deciding that his knuckles are scarred enough as is - and the beginning of repairing his stitches had obviously been done with no care to healing skin - in an attempt to soothe you run a hand down his bicep.

Goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch.

“My point is, Mr. Cross, you’re taking us away from people who actually want to get better.” His ending question was left unsaid, lingering in the air between them all: Why bother getting help at all?

“Our job is to help the injured.” Protectiveness rears its head but it is a smarter move to play it smart, after all you’ll pay for any remarks or siding against him during rounds tomorrow. No doubt be assigned the patients with excessive vomiting or stomach problems to clean after. “No matter who it is, Doctor Martin.” Your smile is meant to ease the tension and you’ll be unaware if it worked until later.

His exit as he storms out the room doesn’t leave high hopes.

A few months into working here, after a handful of runs in with Benny when he’d gotten mouthy or passed off to different doctors for being temperamental you had asked why there always seemed to be conflict involving him and the personnel. Don’t like the way they grab me, he had replied and after having seen the way Martin had worked his stitches and the looks he got from every person in the waiting room you found it reason enough.

“You’re left handed,” you notice and his attention is brought from the window back to the hand you hold.

He shrugs, as if it never occurred to him what hand he used.

“My right is busted so I used my left.”

“So you’re ambidextrous?” He cocks an eyebrow and you smile despite yourself, explaining, “You can use both your right and left hands with the same amount of skill.”

“I know what ambidextrous means.” You would feel bad for assuming he didn’t if he cared but he doesn’t. It’s one of the reasons why he was always passed off to you - his aloofness and lack of care never offended you. Why would it? People are the way they are despite the way one feels. And in reality, his way of being was the reason you liked him. How must it feel to be so free? “Just don’t know why it matters so much what hand I use.”

It’s an honest point and you laugh, loud.

“It doesn’t. It’s an interesting fact to learn about someone though,” you shrug, noncommittal, but the smile begins to cause an ache in your cheeks. “Now I can say I know four things about you, Benny Cross.”

“Really?” He smirks. There’s a shift in the air as he goes from carelessly lax to confident in a second; never more sure of himself than when he was riding his bike or attempting to pull a girl apparently.

“Oh yeah, adding it to the list I keep plastered on my room wall. I’m a real special girl, you see, getting you to open up like this.”

“I’ll deny it. Say you injected me with some shit and it caused an allergic reaction.”

You laugh again, feeling lighter than you had all day after everything that had gone wrong. This was another thing people never got to know about Benny: the guy was funny. He was able to give it back as good as he could take it. Only thing was, when someone pushed he made sure to push harder.

Having redone the stitches Martin had made a mess of and happy with the outcome of his hand now, you gingerly clean the excess blood remaining before turning to shove everything into the disposable department. All the while Benny follows your every move.

This was why Sawyer didn’t like to care for him; she said she didn’t like his stare.

You couldn’t find it in you to mind it, he wasn’t anything like the guys on the street who would cat call and whistle when you went by. His eyes caused a warming sensation in any part of you they caught.

Having washed your hands, you return to his bed with the sandwich outstretched. He looks from the food and back to you but makes no move to take it, which you expected. “If you don’t take it it’s gonna go in the trash,” you admit, exaggerating your pout for a sadness effect. “Which would suck because it’s the best damn sandwich I’ve ever made.” But my lunch is over and I didn’t get to enjoy it because they told me you were here, left unsaid.

“Never known hospital food to be any good.” He accepts the sandwich from your hold but makes no move to eat it. He slides by, closer to you than when you had been stitching him up, and picks up his jacket. “Thanks, Doc.”

There’s a want in your belly, brewing, growing, anything to keep the conversation going but he’s getting ready to leave and you weren’t lying when you told Martin there was a crash on the highway. There was nothing left to say and that was the bad thing about being in Benny’s vicinity: he always left people wanting more. More of his freedom. Of his wildness. Left people scrambling for any scraps he gave.

Sometimes the weight on your shoulders feels so heavy your knees buckle and it’s only when he strolls in with an injury or another that you feel weightless. Young. Alive.

“I’d tell you to rub aloe on those knuckles but I know you won’t listen,” you mention it anyway in case he finds himself home with nothing to do or at a store and it strikes his mind.

“Don’t need none of that hippie oil shit.”

He fixes the collar on his jacket with his left while his right holds the sandwich that is now out of its container - stained, oily hands and all he moves to take a bite.

The bread pales in comparison to the lively pink of his mouth.

“Until next time, Benny,” you toss over your shoulder, taking your exit.

He has a last glimpse of the line of your jaw and the hair flip over your shoulder, the plump arch of your backside and the straight posture of your shoulders. “Bye, Doc.”

Saturdays are spent at the market on Merigold in downtown Chicago.

You aren’t always able to get the days off but when allowed, you spend your day walking the collection of set up shops with your sister and your two favorite people in the entire world: niece and nephew.

At only eight years old, Maddy already contained more motivation than half the adults you encountered on a day to day basis. She had declared her intentions to become a scientist and find life on another planet (because the world is too big it's not just us!) and as such took her schooling absolutely serious. She required no pestering to get out of bed or do her homework and most days she acted more adult than any actual adult you knew.

‘Annoying’ was her new favorite word and it’s used in response to any inconveniences she encounters in her young life. It had quickly become your sister's least favorite word and Maddy had earned herself a time out when she deemed her dad annoying for snoring.

Poor, sweet Jack was nothing like his loud-mouth, dreamer sister and more times than not he made your heart hurt. At only six years old he had already encountered the world’s cruelty. Earlier this summer your sister, Melissa, had to drive a few towns over and pull him from summer camp because he was getting bullied. He was a heavier kid than most his age and a big eater to top it.

To make him feel better you had dedicated that weekend to him completely: a sleepover spent building forts, reading his favorite comic books, and baking sweets.

“I told Daddy five bucks wasn’t a lot!” Maddy holds her money with a sullen pout and foot stomp to follow. She stands in front of an outdoor, singular bookshelf that contains coloring books, bedtime stories — and she must be looking at Space Cadet which is priced at 6.50.

Melissa shrugs, “You know the rule, Maddy. Five dollars is your allowance. How about instead you get this one?” Your sister picks up another book, this one from the lowest shelf, and priced a dollar lower right in Maddy’s price range.

Beside you Jack holds your hand with his right and picks his nose with his left.

“Mommy I have that one already!”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to step in and offer to complete the difference in price but you don’t want your sister to feel undermined so instead you focus on Jack and how he’s managed to get his entire, chubby pointer finger into his nostril.

“Excuse me, sir!” You dramatize to hear his giggles, a smile erupting even as he turns wide eyed. “And where are you thinkin’ of putting those boogies, huh?”

With a mischievous look that lets you know exactly what is coming he wipes his finger on the side of your jeans, attempting to run away after. He shrieks as you grab hold of him, wrapping both arms around his back and bringing him backwards.

“Oh, that’s it!” You playfully growl, blowing raspberries into his neck and eliciting more of his loud, wonderful giggles. Happy in this moment you allow yourself a few laughs as well, hugging him tighter as he struggles to get away.

Distinctly, engines rumbling break the busy bustle of the street, the people of the town stopping their shopping to stare and wait for what - or who - everyone is aware is coming. It’s a sound that could be heard at all hours of the day, whether it be caused by a guy or two or the whole gang of them. Leather jackets, denim jeans, cigarettes, and all.

As the thunderous roar of the engine increased in volume, the Vandals emerged from the end of the street - drunk and half-naked with the exception of only a few. It was a good thing you had a hold on Jack because you felt him tug to get free. No doubt to run to the bikers if his amazed

“Wow,” was anything to go by.

You make sure to clutch him tighter, more people crowding the sidewalks now to make room for the bikers taking the entirety of the street. It was only a year ago that there were only seven of them driving past the stores, and slowly, every weekend since there’d be new members joining them.

With a good grip on Jack’s shirt to make sure he can’t escape and no one can jostle him, you look up again, locking eyes with Benny. He’s already staring. Taking in all of you, with a beanie thrown over your head and worn down boots you squeezed into it because the new ones still hurt.

He’s effortlessly cool riding by. One hand on the handle and another on his lap; some may think he was trying to show off but the truth was he didn’t care too. He was riding right in front of you now. His blue eyes were shadowed in the gray of the weather, becoming lighter instead of brighter. The ring he wore glinted against the metal of his bike and he’d either gotten into a scuffle or had chosen to not do his hair today. There were pieces sticking in different directions and as he drove past you could see the back of his hair was flat.

He smiles at you, slowly, pink lips parting to reveal glistening, white teeth and a glint sparking in his eyes.

“Come on,” Melissa ushers Maddy away from the books, “no time to waste.”

“How annoying,” Maddy grumbles.

You bite your lip to hide your answering grin.

-

Tania calls on Sunday morning, begging you to cover her overnight shift because she’s come down with the flu.

It was 7 a.m. and there was no coffee or breakfast in your system but she genuinely sounded horrible over the line so you agreed.

“You’re pushing your body too hard,” your Ma said from her position by the stove, “it’s gonna flare up again. You just wait and see.”

“Ma,” you snap and hate yourself immediately after.

It isn’t her fault your body decides to fail you time and time again; most times after you spend weeks thinking you’ve somehow magically been cured. The doctors had already explained it didn’t appear to be a genetic disease and it certainly didn’t derive from your parents because when Melissa had been tested she was declared physically healthy.

There’s resentment clogging your chest and throat, yearning to yell about how it isn’t fair but it isn’t her fault either.

It isn’t anyone’s fault that you’re sick and they’re healthy.

Turns out your Ma is right. You should have seen it coming.

Three days letter no food can be kept down and there’s an ache running from your ankle to mid-thigh that has you crying when you try to leave your bed.

“I hav’ta go work,” you try to explain to your parents through the tears and fatigue and the pain as they ease you back into bed.

“Just rest now, honey,” your Ma is trying to soothe, combing stray hairs away from your face. There’s a funny look on her face.

Her chin is pulled tight and there is a wobble to her lip.

You aren’t sure if the pain is causing hallucinations.

“It isn’t fair,” you sob, allowing yourself to lose the battle of trying to stand so your father can relinquish his hold. “It isn’t fair, Dad. Jus’ wanna be able to … be.”

There isn’t another way you’re sure how to explain it. The ability to live was a privilege to all but taken for granted by so many. If sickness and ailment wasn’t something you dealt with you’re sure you would be as ignorant and ungrateful as any other healthy person.

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

One of them places the pill in your hand. When you swallow, your mother helps hold your head up to pour water in your mouth.

Useless. That’s what you are.

-

You are in bed for a week. Adjusting to the medication always proves to be a rollercoaster of events. Tired the first few days and sick to your stomach the next few.

The worst part comes after the pain stops. When the pills aren’t needed and you’re left with the shakes and the chills and a never ending migraine. No better than any druggie laid out on the streets.

“Dr. Howard would have given you a few more days off,” Sawyer says after the fifth time your hands cramp up while you’re typing.

It takes everything to not tell her where to shove it. Regardless of everything, she’s your friend and she cares. Having everyone hovering makes you aggy.

“I’m fine,” you insist.

She shrugs; sighs worriedly; walks away.

The past ten days were spent in bed. Well, seven of them were spent in bed and the last three had been spent holding onto your parents as they led you up and down the hall in an attempt to readjust to moving around. The restroom hadn’t been much of an issue as you were unable to consume much of any food or liquid. Everything was retained in your body and what wasn’t you had puked out.

Doctor Martin approaches, calling your name. “I need you to fill the questionnaire for a patient. He can’t spell and his reading isn’t great.”

Your hands are in fists on your lap. You look down, try to open them, shake, and close it again. The green monster knocks on your chest again, builds, bangs against your ribcage and twists your guts, anything in an attempt to free itself.

You focus on your breathing.

Doctor Martin calls your name again to pull your attention. “Is that going to be a problem?” He looks to your lap but your hands are in fists, hidden from sight.

It’s gonna hurt like hell but you refuse to let anyone else pity you.

“No,” you decide and take the clipboard from him.

-

Rationally you know it isn’t right or fair to hate anyone for being healthy. Sickness or suffering isn’t something you would wish upon anyone; not even your worst enemy.

I’d like to see Martin get a cramp though, you think bitterly. Nothing lasting or damaging. A leg cramp that has him sobbing and unable to stand for a couple of seconds. That’s it.

There had only been seven questions and four of them required simple answers but it didn’t seem to matter if one word was needed or forty. The paper looked like it had been scribbled on by a second grader with no motor skills and in your state the comparison wasn’t far off.

“If you’re incapable of legible penmanship I’m not sure what you’re doing here,” Martin had spewed in your face, anger in his eyes when he tossed the paper and demanded Sawyer redo the questionnaire. “Go home.” He dismissed you.

Asshole.

Home was the second to last place you wanted to be. Your mother was worried, hovering around you any minute of the day and while your father tried to be better he followed you into every room you entered and his footsteps could be made out five feet away from you, always hovering.

Space. Air. A damn break. That’s what you needed.

Walking around the streets at night probably wasn’t the brightest idea you had but you were too anxious and wired to sit still and any restaurant or store you entered ran the risk of running into someone you knew.

Tonight you’d take your chances with strangers lurking in the dark.

You’ve walked the same block four times, in an attempt to be somewhat safe, the one that has the most street lights when you hear it. Grumbling. Roaring. Headlights brighter than any lamp currently illuminating the street and working to blind you as you try to make out the figure riding.

It would either be your friend or it wouldn’t be.

The headlights beam brighter somehow, blinding you enough that you look away and try to squint the spots away from your eyes. When you open them again the rider is down the block and your vision is still distorted. You don’t bother to try to make out any features from this distance and focus on trying to lessen the disappointment swirling around inside.

You had wanted it to be him. You aren’t sure how but you know seeing him would improve the ending of your day. It might be his pretty, blue eyes and the crinkles that appeared when he smiled. Or maybe the smell of 3-in-1 men soap, engine oil, and something distinctly sandalwood and citrus that was uniquely him would be useful in relaxing you.

Overall, you think it’s his way of being that you need tonight. Someone who was so selfishly themself because they needed nothing from anyone around them. No thought to go into what to say or do next because there was nothing to happen besides what was going to happen.

Disappointment is still swirling when you hear it return. A thrumpty exhaust groan from deep within the machine from being pushed too hard, too quick, that you’re sure is currently reverberating the ground beneath you.

And then like an apparition (more like a wish come true) — Benny. You decide that you may be sick and days may be shit, with a huge emphasis on the last thirteen days, but God does not hate you after all.

The light from his bike creates shadows across his face, highlighting the golden beard and mustache but hiding the pink of his mouth. His eyes you’re unable to make out, unsure if they were happy or sad, mad or tired.

With his headlights hitting you directly however, he’s able to make out every feature of yours.

“Benny.” It’s just his name that escapes you, no greeting accompanying it, but you don’t bother to hide the relief in your tone and you’re sure your smile is blinding him like his lights are blinding you. If he wasn’t how he was and you weren’t already feeling raw with rejection and failure you would have hugged him.

“What’cha doin’ out so late?” He uses his leg against the sidewalk to lean his bike inward. Thigh muscles ripple underneath the tight denim of his jeans, illuminated greatly by the shadows cast by the headlights.

You shrug, unwilling to be honest. “I needed …” You’re not sure what you were going to answer so you stop and he allows you time to think. You had said you needed air but you take a deep breath and all the worries and stress of before continue on. You thought you needed space but you began to feel lonely and the last thing you want is for him to go away. There’s no correct answer it seems so you can do nothing but laugh, tilting your head towards the sky. You wish you were brave enough to scream at the stars or howl at the moon. “I’mma be honest, Benny - I’m not sure what I need. I’m just,” you exhale, “a mess tonight.” More than just tonight but you don’t want to scare him off either.

You know that if he asks what’s wrong you’re going to start crying. There’s an ache in your throat that is blocking any air entry and the sting in your eye isn’t from his lights and the shaking in your hand hasn’t gotten any better and if you tell him the truth he’s going to pity you like everyone else and now there’s a traitorous tea—

“Wanna go to a meetin’?”

You look up, wanting to be sure that you heard him correctly. There’s no joking lilt in his tone, only sincerity and the same hint of boredom always wavering in the background. Like if it would make zero difference to him what you decided. You remind yourself he’s not the type of guy to offer something for niceties.

He’s in the same position. Using his leg to lean closer to the pavement, one hand holding onto the left handle and his bike rumbling beneath him. He’s got his head cocked to the side, generously allowing you to feel wanted, like if it’s something he wants you to consider and not only reject.

But there’s another aspect to consider in all this: the only source of transportation currently is his bike.

Be careful, you can hear Ma say, you aren’t in any position to be careless, honey.

She’s right, your Dad would agree. It’s the hand you’ve been given.

Careful.

Careful.

All your life you’ve attempted to be as careful as you could be. You watched where you were walking because a fall could result in a knee that aches for days, not only a scrape. You rubbed the healing oils the neighbors down the street swore by, you took salt baths to help with inflammation, you took medication that was meant to help but it made your head pound and your hands shake and your stomach stick and every couple of weeks or month your body still rebelled, nerves inflamed and bones hurt and it was your worst enemy.

“Sure.”

If you fall from his bike, if he takes every red light and stop sign and a car rams into you — getting up won’t be as easy for you as it will for him. But you’re accepting his invitation nonetheless, taking his offered hand to help you swing a leg over. He grabs hold of both arms, instructing you to keep them around him. It’s exactly how you’ve read in a novel or watched in a Marlon Brando film.

The tremors consume your body and vibrate around him; you wipe the claminess of your palms on his T and hope he doesn’t mind.

“You’re shakin’.” He notices, revving the engine but staying still, as if waiting for you to change your mind.

“Benny?”

“Hmm.”

You rest your chin on his shoulder to pull his attention and it works; he turns his head to the side so he’s able to look in your eyes. The scruff around his jaw is long enough to rub against your lower chin. It tickles but you don’t move away, being able to look into the eye closest to you. He smells of cigarettes and motor oil, of fresh air from the farmland a few miles out and of gas.

He smells of open possibilities and freedom.

“Can we go fast?”

He turns forward, laughing as he kickstarts the bike into motion.

“That I can do. Hang on, Doc.” And he takes off.

True to his word, he never slows down, not once. The wind comes hard and fast and you’re not sure how any of the old ladies who ride with their men manage to keep their updo’s perfectly done. Hearing the roaring of the engine in the silent night, the rumble of the machinery while straddling the bike, the wind blowing across your face — it was close to therapeutic. There were no confinements of a car, the cage that had become your life falling away with every new upheaval on the speedometer, every one of your senses was assaulted and brought to life.

You finally understood Benny and the gang and why they fought to maintain their way of life. Freedom isn’t something you would be willing to give up either.

Much too sign he’s slowing down, approaching the bar. The place is in full swing. Everyone seems to have arrived before the pair of you. There’s several motorcycles parked out front and in the center, up front, you recognize the red bike belonging to their leader. Benny parks right beside it. You wonder if it’s a rank thing where the boys park their bike.

The wind stops; no more vibrations arising from between your legs. Benny kicks a leg out and turns his head slightly to catch sight of your movements, waiting for a reaction or to see if you’ll hop off.

If you’re being honest there’s no desire to stop.

“That was …” fun wouldn’t do the experience justice. “Exhilarating.” Freeing. “I felt like a bird.”

Benny hums, either in agreement or acknowledgment but he arches an eyebrow at you over his shoulder and his response causes you to laugh. Loud and inhibited, and once you begin it seems impossible to stop. The stress of the day fading away with the memories of the wind in your hair, hands wrapped tight around him, and every single burst of laughter that escapes you at his acceptance of your random sentence.

It felt good to be understood. It felt even better to feel invincible for once.

You use Benny’s shoulder for balance to get off his bike, releasing the last bits of laughter that escape and leaving only a wide smile that threatens to split your face in half as you stare into his eyes.

You aren’t sure how but you had known even earlier he’d bring an ease to the weight that had been resting on your shoulders and suddenly, you’re eternally grateful for him. For who he is and confounded that someone who had only come into your life because he kept getting injured could level your emotions so well without trying or knowing.

Any gratitude would only cause him confusion or discomfort so instead you choose to continue smiling.

He cocks an eyebrow, swinging his long leg around to stand up off his bike.

“I’ve got a good feeling about tonight, Benny,” a hand is thrown over his forearm and intertwined as he leads you to the bar.

Again, he only hums.

Turns out Benny’s a gentleman. Not that you were expecting him to not be, but if you’re honest you weren’t sure what to expect walking in.

How many times had you seen Vandals strut through the front doors of this bar, catcalling and roughhousing heard to the public before the door shut behind them. Once or twice you may have wondered why the visiting ladies exited pink and red in the face and adjusting their clothes.

But it isn’t like that for you. Benny holds the door open and stays a steady presence at your back. His friends holler and cheer, there’s some comments made under their breath and in his ear when they step up to congratulate him on what they assume is a new victory conquest. Eyes look you up and down and grin at him in approval but he has no response for them.

With his hand at the small of your back he leads you to an open table, going as far to pull the chair for you. From his position against the wall, you spot Johnny Davis — the leader. When you were in high school you used to babysit his daughters.

He dips his head in greeting.

The chatter in the room is so loud you can’t make out the song that’s playing.

“Benny?” He sits next to you, casual with both elbows on the table and manspreading so wide his knee bumps against yours. Benny leans forward to hear you better, close enough that you're able to notice for the first time he has freckles. One of the guys bumps into your chair, laughing, and you scoot closer. “I’m gonna need a drink.”

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 18

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Fluff???

A/N: I plan to fully wrap up everything so theres still a bit more parts left

Masterpost (links on mobile sucks lately ill add it later)

Sunday

The sun bathed the market in a warm, golden glow, making the world feel softer, almost dreamlike. The usual Sunday bustle of the vendors and the scent of fresh produce filled the air, as comforting as a favorite old song. You and Bucky had been here countless times before, always as part of the group. But today, it was just the two of you, and everything felt different—more intimate, more alive.

Bucky walked close to you, his hand brushing against yours with every step. Each accidental touch sent a little jolt through your chest, and you felt your heart thudding louder than the chatter around you. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out, his fingers sliding between yours. His palm was warm and sure, and the simple act of holding his hand felt monumental.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and filled with quiet concern, his eyes scanning your face like he was reading a map.

You met his gaze, your lips curving into a soft smile. “Yeah,” you murmured, squeezing his hand. “It’s just… different. Being here without everyone.”

Bucky’s lips quirked into a crooked smile, his thumb brushing lightly against yours. “Different’s not bad,” he said, his voice teasing but warm. “Besides, it’s nice not having Sam steal all the good fruit.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. “Okay, true. He always swoops in like a hawk.”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing as he gently tugged you closer, weaving you both through the crowd. “Exactly. And Nat’s always dragging us to some random stall to buy things none of us actually need.”

“Like that time she bought Steve a giant ceramic rooster for his kitchen?” you said, grinning.

He grinned back, his laugh full and genuine. “And now it’s proudly on display in his living room because he doesn’t know how to tell her no.”

The shared memory eased the tension in your chest, and by the time you reached the book vendor—the one you always gravitated toward—you felt like you could breathe again. The stacks of worn novels and faded spines greeted you like old friends, their musty scent wrapping around you.

Bucky reached for a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice, flipping it open with exaggerated care. “So, how long before you lecture me about how I’m missing out by not reading this?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a tattered edition of The Great Gatsby. “Only if you promise to stop pretending Hemingway is the only author worth reading.”

Bucky gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d just wounded him. “You wound me, darlin'. Hemingway’s got soul.”

“Hemingway’s got issues,” you countered, raising an eyebrow. “And you know it.”

He leaned closer, his lips quirking up. “Maybe I just like complicated characters. Keeps things interesting.”

His voice was soft, but the look in his eyes made your breath hitch. You stared at him for a moment, feeling like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, standing there surrounded by forgotten stories and unspoken feelings.

“I’ll let you win this one,” you said finally, your voice a little shakier than you intended.

Bucky smirked, his expression all too knowing. “You’re letting me win? That’s new.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you shot back, grabbing the book from his hands and adding it to the pile you were carrying. “Now, come on. You’re buying me coffee for enduring this.”

As you walked back through the market, your bag of books swinging between you, Bucky leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear. “I like this,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “Just us.”

Your chest tightened, your heart swelling as you tilted your head up to look at him. His blue eyes were so open, so earnest, it made you feel like you could drown in them. “Me too,” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the noise of the market.

Bucky smiled, that lopsided grin you’d loved for years, and tightened his grip on your hand. The moment felt suspended in time—like a chapter you never wanted to end.

The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the city. You and Bucky were walking home from the farmers market, a bag of books swinging between you and a carton of fresh strawberries in his other hand. The day had been easy and light—filled with laughter and teasing—and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could breathe.

“You know,” Bucky began, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, “I always knew you’d drag me into the book section first.”

You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder. “And yet, you came willingly. Admit it, you love it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I love you. The books are just a bonus.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you quickly deflected with a playful roll of your eyes. “Flatterer.”

As you reached your apartment building, the playful banter slowed, replaced by a comfortable silence. Inside, the air was still, the faint hum of the fridge filling the background. You set the bag of books down on the counter and turned to find Bucky watching you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What?” you asked, your voice soft.

He stepped closer, his fingers grazing your hand. “Can we talk?”

You swallowed, suddenly nervous, but you nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“You’re mine right?” Bucky leaned against the counter, his hands gripping the edge.

“Am i?” You spoke softly.

He hesitated, his jaw working as if he were searching for the right words. Finally, he looked at you, his blue eyes steady but vulnerable. “I thought when we said we loved each other, it was kind of… set in stone. You know?”

You blinked, caught off guard, before letting out a small laugh. “Bucky, you’ve known me for how long? You should know I need reassurance or, like, a label or something.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he straightened, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “Okay, then,” he said, his voice low and warm. He reached out, his hand cradling your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Sweetheart, baby, babe—will you do me the greatest honor of my life and be mine? Officially?”

Your heart melted at the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes searched yours with both hope and fear. You couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face as you nodded. “Yes, Buck. Of course.”

His grin was instant, bright and boyish, and before you could say another word, he scooped you up, spinning you around. You squealed, laughing uncontrollably as he peppered your face with kisses.

“So this is what it’s like to be with the Bucky Barnes,” you teased, breathless as he set you down.

He shook his head, his hands still firmly on your waist. “No,” he said, his voice soft and serious. “This isn’t what it’s like to be with Bucky Barnes. This is what it’s like to be with you. This is what it feels like to love you. And there’s nothing in the world like it.”

The weight of his words hit you square in the chest, and you reached up, cupping his face as you pressed your forehead against his. “You’re gonna make me cry, Buck.”

“Good,” he teased, brushing his nose against yours. “I’ve been crying over you for years.”

You giggled, swatting his chest lightly before pulling him into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, a promise lingering between you.

When you finally broke apart, he grinned again, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, you wanna have a sleepover?”

You tilted your head, confused. “Bucky, we live together.”

“No, no,” he said, his grin widening. “I mean a sleepover in my room.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, I guess I never thought about how this is gonna work. We literally live together.”

“Exactly,” he said, his tone teasing but sincere. “So, what do you say?”

You pretended to consider for a moment before nodding. “I would love to have a sleepover with you.”

He let out a triumphant little cheer, grabbing his keys. “Perfect. I’m gonna grab takeout, and then we’re having a movie marathon. Don’t move.”

You laughed as he kissed you quickly and darted toward the door. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a deep sigh, sinking onto the couch. Your phone buzzed, and you saw a text from Natasha.

Nat: So… spill.

You: Spill what?

Nat: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you and Bucky are FINALLY together?!

You: Who told you? Did you spy on us?

Nat: ...... I know everything, duh. Now stop deflecting and give me details.

You hesitated for a moment, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Then, with a small smile, you replied.

You: It’s… good. Really good. He’s trying so hard, Nat. He’s being so sweet. He’s everything.

Nat: Of course he is. That man’s been in love with you for YEARS.

You: I know, but it’s still scary. What if we mess this up?

Nat: You won’t. Trust me. You’re both too stubborn to let that happen. Now, when are we hanging out? We missed Farmer Market Sundays, and I hate being away from everyone.

You: Friday, at the bar?

Nat: Perfect. I’ll see you then. And don’t worry. You’ve got this babe <3

You smiled, setting your phone down just as the door opened again, Bucky walking in with bags of takeout. His grin was wide, and his eyes sparkled as he held up the food triumphantly.

“Sleepover of the century starts now,” he declared.

And for the first time in years, everything felt truly right.

Wednesday

The café buzzed softly with life—muted chatter, the occasional clink of cups, and the hum of the espresso machine. Wanda sat across from you at a small table near the window, the sunlight catching the caramel streaks in her hair. She handed you your latte with a grin, her eyes twinkling with something knowing.

“You look… happy,” she teased, drawing out the word as she leaned forward on her elbows.

You ducked your head, the warmth in your cheeks impossible to hide. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I’m really happy for you, you know. You and Bucky… it just makes sense.”

You smiled into your cup, taking a sip to mask the emotions her words stirred. “Thanks, Wanda. It’s just… weird, I guess. We’ve been friends for so long, and now it’s different.”

Wanda reached out, her hand warm over yours. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It means growth. And knowing you two, it’ll be beautiful.”

You nodded, her words comforting yet thought-provoking. “It’s just… scary, you know? What if we mess it up? What if this ruins everything?”

Wanda’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as she said your name "You’ve been dancing around each other for years. Do you really think you’re going to mess this up? You two have already been through the worst of it, and you’re still here. That’s not nothing.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am,” she said with a playful grin. Then her expression shifted, a hint of something more serious flickering in her eyes. “But can I ask you something?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”

“Did you really not know about Natasha’s feelings towards Steve?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Your stomach dropped slightly at the question. “No i didn’t, I feel like a horrible friend, a horrible person how could I have missed it? You knew?”

Wanda nodded, her gaze steady. “Yeah.”

“How long?”

She hesitated, fidgeting with the sleeve of her cup. “A while. Honestly, I don’t even know if I would have figured it out if she hadn’t told me. She’s always been good at hiding stuff like that.. She’s been holding onto it for a while now. Longer than anyone realises.”

The weight of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. “What am I supposed to do with that, Wanda?” you asked quietly. “I don’t want her to feel like she’s second best, like she doesn’t matter. She’s my best friend.”

Wanda’s gaze softened, her voice gentle but firm. “There’s nothing you can do. Just like no one could force you and Bucky together. It has to be something Natasha sorts out for herself. And Steve… he’ll move on, eventually. He’s stronger than people give him credit for.”

You let out a breath, your chest feeling tight. “I just hate that all of this is so messy. It feels like everything’s at risk.”

Wanda said your name, leaning forward and fixing you with her warm but steady gaze. “We’re too close, all of us, to let this ruin anything. We’ve been through worse. It might take time, but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Her words were like a balm, soothing the ache in your chest. You reached out and squeezed her hand in thanks. “What would I do without you?”

Wanda grinned. “Probably spiral into chaos. Now, are you gonna finish that latte or let it go cold?”

You laughed softly, lifting the cup to your lips. “Point taken.”

The apartment smelled divine, the air rich with the aroma of garlic and fresh herbs as you stepped inside. The sight of Bucky in the kitchen made your heart skip a beat. He stood there in a fitted black t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms, wearing an apron you’d bought as a joke that said Kiss the Cook. He was stirring something in a pan, his brow furrowed in concentration.

He was humming softly to himself, stirring something in a pan, completely immersed in what he was doing.

“Wow,” you said, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. “What’s the occasion, Chef Barnes?”

Bucky turned, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You, doll,” he said easily, leaning one hip against the counter. “Figured I’d whip up something special for my girl.”

His words made your cheeks flush, and you stepped closer. “You’re really setting the bar high here. You sure you’re not trying to win boyfriend of the year?”

“Trying?” he asked, his grin widening. “Sweetheart, I’m already the reigning champ.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. “What’s on the menu, then?”

“Pasta,” he said, nodding toward the stove. “Made the sauce from scratch. None of that jarred stuff for you.”

Your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of it all. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, you know.”

Bucky shrugged, turning back to the stove. “You’re worth it.”

The simplicity of his statement, the sincerity in his voice, had your chest tightening. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek against his back. “Thank you,” you murmured.

He stilled for a moment, then set the spoon down and turned in your arms to face you. His hands found your waist, his thumbs brushing your sides. “Always,” he said softly, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he teased, flashing you that charming, boyish grin as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. He turned off the stove, plating the pasta with a chef-like flourish, and set the dishes on the table. Pulling out a chair for you, he gestured grandly. “M’lady.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you sat. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he quipped, settling into the chair across from you.

For a moment, you just watched him, the warm glow of the kitchen light casting a golden halo around him. Your chest tightened with a sudden swell of emotion, a happiness so profound it was almost startling. “I haven’t felt like this in years,” you murmured, your voice soft and vulnerable. “This happy.”

Bucky’s smile softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter. “You deserve the world, doll,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “There’s nothing else like this. Nothing else like you.”

The weight of his words settled over you, a warmth spreading through your chest that made your breath hitch. You reached across the table, your fingers finding his. “How do you do that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… say the exact right thing?”

His grin was lopsided and endearing. “I’ve had years to practice,” he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

Dinner passed in a blur of laughter and lighthearted teasing, the conversation flowing as easily as it always had between you two—but now, there was an added layer of something deeper. Something that had been there all along but was finally allowed to flourish. Every glance he gave you, every fleeting touch, felt like a promise, unspoken but deeply felt.

When the plates were cleared, Bucky leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied you with a soft, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “this is my favorite version of us.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Right here,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “You, me, no walls, no pretending we’re just friends… It feels like this is how it was always supposed to be.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you ducked your head slightly, smiling. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Bucky reached across the table, his hand cupping your chin gently, tilting your face back up to meet his gaze. His eyes searched yours, his voice soft but resolute. “I don’t know how I got lucky enough to have you, but I’m not gonna waste it.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re not the only lucky one, Buck,” you said, leaning into his touch. “We both are.”

After dinner, you moved to the couch, settling beside each other with your legs tangled. Bucky reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve got sauce right… here,” he said, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Smooth,” you teased, laughing softly.

“What can I say? I’m a gentleman.” His grin was playful, but the way his eyes lingered on yours sent a shiver down your spine. His lips quirked into a small smile, and he leaned forward, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “Let me show you just how lucky I feel.”

Before you knew it, he was leaning in, and you met him halfway. The kiss started slow, his lips warm and soft against yours. But as the moments stretched, it deepened, his hand cupping the back of your head while his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, your heart racing as you slipped your hands beneath the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin. He groaned softly against your lips, his body tensing under your touch.

But then, just as things started to heat up, he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. His breaths were uneven, his hands gentle as they steadied you.

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You blinked, your mind still foggy from the kiss. “What’s wrong?” you asked, searching his eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I just… I want to do this right. With you. I don’t want to rush into anything, even though…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Even though I want this so bad. I want you so bad.”

His words made your chest ache in the best way. You reached up, cradling his face in your hands. “Okay,” you whispered. “We’ll take our time.”

He smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You bit your lip, hesitating before asking, “Bucky… earlier, you said you haven’t been with anyone since that night in college. Is that true?”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah, doll. It’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you. I may have been a jackass, but I’ve never lied to you.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the honesty in his gaze, made your stomach flip. “Me neither,” you admitted quietly.

Bucky blinked, his head tilting slightly. “Wait, what?”

“I haven’t been with anyone either,” you said, your cheeks burning. “Since that night. Dean was the first guy I kissed since then.”

His lips parted in surprise, his voice low as he repeated, “You kissed Dean?”

“Yeah,” you said, fiddling with a loose thread on the couch cushion. “But that’s it. Just a kiss.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment, then a slow, crooked smile spread across his face. “You know what that means, right?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He leaned in, his voice low and full of promise. “It means I’m gonna be the last guy you ever kiss.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as his words sank in. “I hope so,” you whispered.

Bucky didn’t hesitate. He kissed you again, slow and deliberate, as if to seal the promise between you. His hands cradled your face, his lips moving against yours in a way that felt like forever and not long enough all at once.

Thursday

You sat at your desk, staring at your laptop screen, trying to focus on the manuscript in front of you. The office buzzed faintly with the hum of phones ringing and distant chatter, but it all faded into white noise when your phone vibrated. You glanced at it, seeing Sam’s name pop up with a new text.

Sam: Hey, Barnes tell you yet?

You frowned, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You: Tell me what?

Sam: That I’m gonna kick his ass at darts tomorrow night.

You giggled, rolling your eyes.

You: LOL. You wish.

Sam: Nah, I’m serious. The man’s been smug all week. Like he’s got some big secret or something.

Your stomach did a little flip as you typed your response.

You: …

Sam: Wait a minute. Oh my God. Is the big secret YOU?!

You: … Maybe.

Sam: FINALLY!!!!!!

Before you could even think of a response, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You smiled, answering it with a dry, “Didn’t realize this was so urgent.”

Sam’s voice came through, teasing but warm. “Oh, it’s urgent, alright. I’ve been waiting for this since… I don’t know, forever?”

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

“I’m not,” Sam shot back, his voice laced with amusement. “I’m just tired of watching you and Barnes do this ridiculous will-they-won’t-they dance. Turns out, y’all finally figured it out.”

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, biting your lip. “It’s… new, of course”

“New, huh?” Sam drawled. “New enough for him to be walking around like he’s king of the world, apparently. You should’ve seen him yesterday—man was smiling so much I thought his face was gonna break.”

The image made you laugh, your heart warming. “That’s… good to hear.”

Sam paused, his tone shifting slightly. “You’re happy though, right? I mean, you’ve been waiting for this.”

You hesitated for a moment before answering, “Yeah, I am. It feels… right. Scary, but right.”

Sam hummed in acknowledgment. “Good. That’s what matters.” There was a beat of silence before he added, “Hey, uh, so I talked to Steve.”

Your stomach tightened at the mention of his name. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s… Steve,” Sam said carefully. “You know how he is. Quiet, keeps everything close to the vest. But I know Friday night hit him hard.”

You sighed, guilt twisting in your chest. “I haven’t really talked to him since. I don’t even know what to say.”

“He’s just gonna need some time,” Sam said gently. “But listen to me—don’t write him off as a friend. Steve’s a good guy. He’ll come around.”

The idea of losing Steve made your throat tighten. “It hurts that you’d think I would. Sam, I—I feel like a horrible friend. How could I have not noticed before?”

Sam’s voice softened, laced with understanding. “Because you were blinded by your feelings for Bucky. Doesn’t make you a bad friend, just human.”

You closed your eyes, swallowing hard. “I hate that I hurt him.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But you can’t carry all the blame. Steve’s strong, and he’ll get through this. He just… he needs to process it on his own.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Do you really think everything’s gonna be okay?”

Sam’s voice was confident, reassuring. “Yeah. You’ve got Bucky now, Steve’s got all of us, and we’ve been through worse. We’re too stubborn to let this group fall apart.”

That made you smile. “You’re annoyingly wise sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam replied smugly. “Now, I’ll see you tomorrow. First one who hangs up doesn’t have to buy the first round.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s not fair—”

Click.

You stared at the phone, your smile lingering as you set it down. Somehow, Sam always knew how to make things feel just a little bit lighter.

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows across the walls. You and Bucky were sprawled on the couch, your legs tangled together as some classic action movie played in the background. It was one of those easy, quiet nights where the world outside seemed to fade away.

Bucky’s arm was draped casually over your shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you instead of the screen, his lips quirking into that small, soft smile you’d grown to love.

You shifted slightly, resting your head against his chest. “Hey,” you started softly, your voice cutting through the quiet. “Have you, um… seen or talked to Steve since… you know, last Friday?”

Bucky’s fingers paused for a moment before resuming their gentle motion. He let out a quiet sigh. “Yeah,” he said after a beat. “I saw him Wednesday when you were out with Wanda. He was on his way out, so it was real brief.”

“And?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

He shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the TV. “He was fine. I mean, as fine as Steve gets, you know? He nodded at me, said hey, and that was about it.”

Your chest tightened, and you sank back against him, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m nervous about tomorrow,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m excited to see everyone, but… I don’t want things to be weird.”

Bucky finally looked down at you, his brow furrowed. “Things are gonna be weird, doll,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “At least for a little while. But they’ll get better. It’s us, right? We always figure it out.”

You sighed, closing your eyes briefly. “I’ve just… never been in a situation like this before. I don’t know how to handle it. What if Steve doesn’t—what if things aren’t the same anymore?”

Bucky shifted, sitting up slightly so he could face you more fully. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Steve’s not like that. You know him. He’s always been the solid one, the one who keeps us all together. If anyone can handle this, it’s him.”

You nodded, his words offering some comfort. “I hope you’re right.”

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting the moment. You reached for it, noticing two new messages. One from Sam and the other from Steve. Your stomach fluttered nervously as you opened Sam’s text first.

Sam: I talked to Steve. You have nothing to worry about. He’ll always love you as a friend before anything else. Told him about you and Buck. Hope thats okay?

You exhaled slowly, relief flooding through you as you typed back a quick response.

You: Its okay...Thanks, Sam. I needed that.

Sam: I know you like the back of my hand girl

You snorted, Bucky glanced over, noticing the way your face relaxed. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

“Sam,” you replied. “He said he talked to Steve. Apparently, I have nothing to worry about.”

Bucky nodded, his lips quirking into a small smirk. “Told you.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but before you could respond, your attention shifted to Steve’s message. You opened it, your fingers trembling slightly.

Steve: Hey. Just wanted to check in. Are we okay?

Your heart ached at the simplicity of his question, the weight of everything unsaid behind it. You quickly typed a response.

You: To me? Always, Stevie. You?

His reply came almost instantly.

Steve: Always. Excited to see everyone tomorrow.

You: Me too. You sure?

There was a pause before his response came through.

Steve: I’m sure :)

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, you added:

You: Thanks, Steve. For always being there. I hope you know I’m always here for you too…

His response was simple but sincere.

Steve: I know. And Always.

You stared at the screen for a long moment, the words settling in your chest like a comforting weight. Bucky shifted beside you, his hand slipping to your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice warm and steady.

You nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Just… thinking about tomorrow. How everything’s going to change.”

Bucky tightened his hold on you, his voice firm but gentle. “Not everything, doll. Some things don’t change.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. “Promise?”

His lips quirked into a soft smile. “Promise.”

As the movie played on in the background, you allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of the moment.

Friday

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes of gold across the room as you finished adjusting your blouse in the mirror. The weight of anticipation pressed lightly on your chest. Tonight would be your first time facing everyone as a couple—or whatever you and Bucky were now.

Leaning against the doorframe, Bucky sipped his coffee, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair sticking up from where he’d slept. He looked effortlessly handsome, the kind of sight you’d never get tired of. His easy smile, however, didn’t quite mask the tension in his eyes.

“Ready for tonight?” he asked, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but there was a cautiousness to the way he looked at you.

You glanced at him in the mirror, smoothing your blouse once more. “I think so. Are you?”

He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “As ready as I’ll ever be. They’re gonna give us so much shit.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “We deserve it.”

He stepped closer, his coffee forgotten on the dresser. His hands found your waist, turning you gently to face him. His touch was steady, grounding. He leaned down, brushing a kiss against your temple. “They’ll love us,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “They already do.”

For a moment, you stared up at him, your heart swelling. His confidence in this—in you, in both of you—was overwhelming in the best way. “You really think so?” you asked softly.

He nodded, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “Babe, they’ve been rooting for us longer than we’ve even known we were a ‘we.’ Trust me.”

You smiled, leaning into him, but your chest still felt tight. You couldn’t help but think of how tonight could be the start of something wonderful—or another complication in your already messy lives.

“Stop overthinking,” Bucky said, reading you like an open book. His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“That ‘I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders’ look,” he teased, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s us.”

“It’s us,” you echoed, the words sinking in. “Okay, fine. You win.”

He grinned. “I always do.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Cocky much?”

His grin turned devilish as his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer. “What can I say? You bring it out of me.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his lips met yours, soft and slow at first, like he was savoring the moment. But the kiss deepened quickly, his hands tightening around you as if he couldn’t stand the distance. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing against him as your breaths mingled.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice rough with want. “I just can’t keep my hands off you.”

You laughed softly, your forehead resting against his. “Remember, you’re the one who wanted to move slow.”

He chuckled, the sound low and addictive. “Don’t remind me. It’s torture.”

You leaned up, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, smoothing your blouse again. “Good thing you’ve got that Bucky Barnes patience, huh?”

“Barely,” he admitted, his eyes still locked on you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

As you grabbed your bag, he reached out, brushing his fingers against yours. “I’ll see you at work?”

“Of course,” you replied, turning back to give him a smile. “We’re walking to the bar together after, right?”

Bucky nodded, his expression softening into something achingly tender. “I’m never leaving your side again, so yes. Always.”

Your chest tightened, his words resonating deeper than you expected. With one last smile, you stepped out the door, the warmth of his presence lingering with you all the way to work.