#his stylist needs a raise lately

[dawnbreakerluna]

i might… need you to elaborate on dilf sylus and dilf zayne pls

oh just thinking about how dilf!sylus would wake up before you and your twins, despite having sleep trained them to wake at certain times to accommodate for your schedules. dilf!sylus who would prioritize the morning routine to be his responsibility, knowing that you need all the rest possible (for he will continue to say this down the line as the twins get older); everything down to bathing, dressing, feeding, that by the time you've woken up, he's prepared late breakfast/early lunch for you as your babies are being put down for their first nap of the day. he takes pride in consulting his personal stylists for the finest and most comfortable threads for clothes, even against your warnings that babies grow very quickly. while you are the thing he is most grateful for in this lifetime, he is so much more content now with how you had given him more blessings to hold dearly to his heart.

now when it comes to dilf!zayne, there is the expected scenario for as a doctor, he knows all the micro changes your body will go through with pregnancy. that aside, he finds himself at a bit of a challenge post-birth as he witnesses his daughter's growth with his very own eyes. dilf!zayne who seems off his routine more than usual in the glance of his colleagues; because though he has worked with children countless times, he finds his mind overwhelmed with all the possible dangers out there as he's combing out his toddler's damp hair. you end up being a pillar for those constant worries, that it gives dilf!zayne some room to be able to breathe. he's gotten better at making his daughter's pigtails look sleek and effortless, but more so focuses on the details of what makes her laugh, the food tastes that make little face her cringe in disgust, and ruining the house's pristine wallpaper to measure her growth in height. the most renowned cardiac surgeon in linkon city who is always well-kept and orderly. yet he doesn't mind the disruption in his schedule when it comes to his daughter's "happy accidents." he comes to accept that while raising his child will take everything, it most of all requires his patience and an open mind to the unexpected. but with you, his dearest, at his side, he knows it'll be alright.

[pickingupmymercedes]

That girl (woman) - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: That girl - Olly Murs

pairing: Husband!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff

a/n: tried a little something different with the pov and the narrative, let me know what you guys think.

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

It was a regular Wednesday mid-autumn, the kind of quiet morning in the Hamilton household that felt precious in its ordinariness. Lewis sat at the edge of their bed, balancing a tray loaded with her favorite redberry pancakes and a fresh bouquet perched precariously on the side table.

Before we dive deeper, let me share a little secret about Lewis. He’s a legend on the track—speed, skill, mind, the whole package. But there, in their Monaco apartment, watching his wife sleep soundly as morning eased into afternoon, he was just a man.

And as he gazed at her with a strange mix of tenderness and a touch of guilt, it was clear he was reflecting on what he nearly threw away once.

You see, Y/n hadn’t been just any woman in his life. She’d been a force, a renowned stylist, beloved by many. And Lewis, in a past he now could only shake his head at, had once thought he was doing her a favor by pushing her away.

He’d believed that she deserved someone less weighed down by a career that dragged him across continents, with fame that threw him, and her by default, under every public spotlight.

So, in a moment of misguided self-sacrifice, he’d told her she deserved better. Needed to leave him, he’d said, so she could find someone who could give her the life she deserved.

But she’d seen through his words. She’d planted herself firmly in his life and told him, in no uncertain terms, that if he truly wanted her gone, he’d have to make the effort to really let her go.

He hadn’t, of course— couldn’t. And now, there she was, their child growing inside her, still by his side.

Back in the bedroom that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea, Y/n began to stir, her dark lashes fluttering as she woke.

The sunlight had climbed high, a clear sign she’d overslept. Not that it was surprising. Lately, the exhaustion came in waves—pregnancy was starting to demand more rest from her.

She shifted slightly, her bump visible under the soft rise of his oversized T-shirt she’d claimed as sleepwear. Lewis smiled at that, too, how she’d taken so much of him as her own.

As Y/n stretched, blinking sleep from her eyes, she spotted Lewis there, looking all too pleased with himself, balancing that breakfast tray as if he’d been waiting an hour to make his grand entrance.

“Why, Sir. To what do I owe this royal breakfast treatment?” she asked, her voice still drowsy, as she raised an eyebrow playfully though she wore a faint smile.

“Oh, nothing much,” he said, setting the tray in front of her. But there was something about the way he lingered, how his eyes traced her face a bit longer than usual, and how his hand found its way to her bump, lightly brushing circles over her stomach.

She noticed it too, of course. Y/n’s gaze slid from him to the pancakes, to the bouquet of wildflowers he’d set down beside her. His hand was still there, fingers spreading, gentle against her skin.

She tucked into the pancakes, savoring the tart sweetness of the berries, though one eye was still on him. He was keeping quiet, which was unusual enough to make her pause, fork halfway to her mouth.

He didn’t speak, but his fingers had settled in, tracing softer circles on her tummy, as if trying to connect with their child through her skin.

“Alright, spill it, Hamilton,” she said at last, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion. She hadn’t missed the glances, the softer smiles, or how his usual self-assured charm was just a little off this morning.

He fumbled. Oh yes, THE Lewis Hamilton—six inches taller than everyone else when it came to confidence—stumbling on his words now as he looked back at her, gathering himself as if preparing to speak before a packed audience.

“It’s nothing. Really, I just…” he hesitated, clearing his throat. “I just wanted to thank you. For yesterday. For coming to the factory with me.”

Ah, yes, the visit. Y/n had been there at his side all day, chatting with engineers and mechanics, giving them warm smiles, sometimes asking the kind of questions that endeared her to the team.

She’d been there, even though they both knew she’d been exhausted—he’d seen it in the way she leaned against surfaces or rested a hand on her bump when she thought he wasn’t looking.

But she’s the kind of person who’d walk the extra mile without a second thought if it meant making him feel grounded

“Oh” She waved it off. “I just know it’s important for you to have your support system there. Besides, we’ll leave you alone to those visits for a while, after this one gets here.” She gave him a smile, and it was enough to make Lewis sit back, humbled and deeply, thoroughly grateful.

Because that’s the thing about Y/n. She didn’t just say the right things. She showed up. She showed him, again and again, that he was worth it to her.

When he’d told her to leave, thinking he was noble, sacrificing himself for her own good, she’d thrown it right back at him. Said if he wanted her gone, he’d have to be a man and make it happen. He hadn’t. And in not doing it, he’d made a choice just as firmly as she had.

He reached out then, brushing his fingers on her cheek, his hand lingering for a moment, as if memorizing her face.

Y/n, ever observant, took his hand, resting it over hers. She could feel the weight of everything unsaid—how his grip was just a bit tighter, his thumb brushing her knuckles in slow circles. Her eyes softened, and for once, he allowed himself to drop the pretense.

“I know I’ve said it before,” he started, his voice quiet. “But I don’t think I can ever say it enough. I’m grateful. For you, for our little one. For everything.”

She let out a small laugh, rolling her eyes. “Lewis, you don’t need to go poetic on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, but even then, there was a solemnity in his expression, an echo of the worry that had lived with him since that fateful night years ago when he’d tried to push her out.

He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to let her know he was serious.

They didn’t need words, not really. She knew, and he knew she knew.

That’s the magic they’d always shared. She didn’t need a grand speech to understand that in the way he carried her breakfast in, the way he’d brushed her cheek, he was telling her a thousand times over just how lucky he felt.

For Lewis, that single kiss said everything he couldn’t.

They sat there in quiet contentment, her finishing the last of her pancakes, his hand tracing that rhythmic pattern on her bump again, as if communicating with their little one in their secret code.

“Now” she said, breaking the silence as she watched him circling his fingers on her belly “I need you to go. This mama’s got work, and so do you, unless you plan on spending the rest of the day like this.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he said, flashing a mischievous grin.

But he stood regardless, though he couldn’t resist stealing one more kiss. Because that’s also the thing about Lewis—he’d had a brush with losing her once, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again.

So there he was, savoring the sight of her, engraving this moment into memory. After all, being wrong about her had been the best mistake of his life.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[notafunkiller]

love me like you paid me - co-written with @marvelouslizzie​

Summary: You accompany businessman Bucky Barnes to all the events he has to attend, and you find yourself wishing he wasn’t paying you to be his date.

Pairing: businessman!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (the reader is 24, Bucky is 34), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, nipples play, oral sex, clit play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), cursing, no mention of y/n 

Word Count: 11K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: @marvelouslizzie and I had a great time writing this story, and we really hope you will, too, while reading it.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

> I think I'll be late for a couple of minutes, I am very sorry. You can go inside, you just need to say your name.

You look at the text he sent you once again, to make sure you didn’t miss any details. The thought of going inside alone spikes up your anxiety even though you never met him before. Everything looks so fancy, and you are already feeling out of place.

So you decide to wait. It's better for appearances, anyway. You didn't properly establish the context of you being his plus-one before, and you don't want to make mistakes.

And it doesn't even take a long time. He arrives just five or six minutes later. You watch him get out of the car and look around before your eyes finally meet for the first time.

"I am so, so sorry for being late. But why are you standing here?" He says awkwardly looking at you from head to toe twice as he starts arranging his suit jacket.

“I thought it would be better if we go inside together. It wouldn't look too convincing if we came separately.”

He nods. "Smart. I'm sorry, I'm..." He pauses, unsure, and extends his hand. "You're very beautiful, thank you. I'm Bucky."

You offer him a smile while extending your hand and giving him your name. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself.”

He snorts. "Not thanks to me."

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"I meant my stylist." He explains, freeing your hand.

“Oh.” You feel awkward. You didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but you are carrying it well.”

You see his cheeks getting red. "Thank you. Shall we go inside?"

“Yeah, of course.” You offer him your arm.

"I think I should be doing that." He does the same thing.

You feel so embarrassed for a second but take his arm anyway. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“Don't be sorry." He gives the man at the entrance a smile before saying your names, and in no time, you are led to your table.

You take a look around, trying to be as subtle as possible. It’s even fancier than it seemed when you were waiting for him outside and people seem to know one another as they greet and talk to each other. You feel a faint pain in your stomach.

"You know… in case someone asks you, my three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas."

“What?” You feel so lost.

"My three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas." He repeats this expired joke he read online at some point. "You know, eating my family and eating, my family."

You suddenly snort, not expecting him to make a joke like this.

"I guess you can smile, and what a beautiful smile you have." He pauses and scrunches his nose as soon as he finishes the phrase. "I don't mean to be you know... I am not trying to...."

“You are not trying to what?” You’re still smiling because of his dad joke, totally unaware of why he’s trying to explain himself.

"To make you uncomfortable or something. I just wanted to help you feel better. I am surprised, though. Usually, models feel a little less nervous."

“Model?” You repeat, visibly confused. “I’m… I’m not a model.” Did they tell him you were a model?

"Oh, it explains the height." He lets out a deep breath.

“The height?” You can’t believe he actually said that. Like your height isn’t good enough for his standards. Probably, you aren’t good enough for his standard since you aren’t a model.

"Oh god, no." He groans. "That sounded terrible. I meant, models usually are very tall and look... different. I told them I don't want a model, but my team didn't quite listen. That’s why I said that."

“So you aren’t the one who specifically wanted a model?”

"God, no." He shakes his head. "I actually chose you." He scrunches his nose again. "That sounds even more terrible."

“I know you chose me. How do you think they found a photo of me to send you?”

Bucky snorts. "I should shut up."

“No, no. I mean…” You lower your voice a little to make sure no one hears you. “I was aware of what this is when I said yes. It’s fine.”

"I am making a fool out of myself, I am sorry."

“No, you are not. It’s actually helping me to relax because I was really worried about…” You stop yourself right before saying something stupid.

"Did I seem intimidating?"

“Yeah.” You quickly accept it because his choice of words is much nicer than what you were originally thinking. You expected him to be a pretentious asshole. Instead, he seems like he’s just as nervous as you are.

He smiles. "What would you like to drink?"

“White wine is fine.” It seems like a safe choice.

"I love wine." He smiles. "And to be honest, it’s the only thing I drink at those events. Oh, and champagne, of course."

“That also works, but I can’t have too much.”

"Want to order food before?"

“No, not because of that. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”

"Oh, we can leave earlier." He immediately offers. "I don't stick much around usually, anyway."

“That’s not necessary, we can stay as much as you want. I’m already prepared for my meeting. I just don’t want to seem unprofessional tomorrow by looking like I have a huge hangover. I kinda need it to go well.”

"What do you do if you're not a model?" He asks with a smile, genuinely curious to find out more information.

“I am running my own bakery.”

"That sounds so awesome. Family business?"

“No. I actually started it pretty recently. Still learning how to manage a business and get clients.” You suddenly stop, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. That must sound really silly to you.”

"Silly?" He tries to tuck back a few strands of his hair as he looks at you. "I want to know more. If you want to share of course. Maybe I can even help. I know how hard it can be, especially when you don't have experience. Do you have a partner?"

“No.” You can’t help but smile because he seems genuinely interested. “I’m doing it by myself. Or rather trying.”

"Wow, that must be exhausting and challenging. Do you have employers? How new..." he stops mid-sentence when the waiter comes. "Can you bring us some white wine, please?"

"What kind?"

You watch him as he casually orders a specific brand, then his eyes meet yours again. You realize he’s actually waiting for your answer. “I have one person that works with me.”

"Paying a salary must be hard."

“Yeah, money is kinda tight.” That’s the whole reason you accepted being his date tonight: you want to be able to pay Nicole’s salary, but you don’t say that.

"I'm sorry." He sighs. "Maybe I can help, though." He thinks about a donation or something, but he doesn't even know you or your business.

“You already are. Don’t worry about it.”

The waiter returns with the wine, asking you if you want to taste it, but Bucky gives him a polite smile after looking at you. "Thank you, but no need."

The man nods and starts pouring slowly.

When you taste the wine, you understand why he specifically asked for this one. It leaves a really gentle after-taste on your tongue.

"Do you like it?" He asks nervously as he takes a sip himself.

“Very much. Probably the best wine I have ever tasted.”

"I am so glad to hear that. But did you eat anything before coming here?”

“Ihm… No.”

"Then we should order. Excuse me," he calls the waiter again with a hand gesture.

While he is ordering food, you find the perfect moment to stare at him. He’s speaking in a way that shows he belongs here. He is kind yet commanding. You focus on his face and watch a strand fall on his forehead. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, just gently pushing it back, but you find yourself taking a deeper breath. His lips are full, his smile is gentle and his eyes are curious. That’s when you notice he is actually talking to you.

"Do you have preferences?"

You shake your head. You have no idea what preference he is talking about, but even if you did you are sure you would have no idea what to order in a place like this.

"Do you trust me with this?" 

“Yeah.” You quickly answer to cover the fact that you weren’t paying attention to his food choices. “Just no sea food, please.”

"Of course." He nods and turns his attention to the waiter again. "The same for her, please. Also a bottle of water."

*

It's already pretty late, and it's clear neither of you has much energy left, but you can't interrupt this conversation. You are trying to listen so you can be prepared if they ask you something.

"I agree, the market doesn't look good, but let's see if something changes once they apply the new policies," he says looking at both of you for a couple of seconds. "It's hard for new businesses, unfortunately."

You take a deep breath, knowing what he says is true and how it affects you. Still, you don’t comment on anything, just watching them.

Bucky leans in, laughing politely when the man cracks a bad joke, and you notice how a few  hair strands fall on the side of his face and forehead.

Before your mind can register what you are doing, you find yourself leaning towards him and pushing the hair back. Then you notice what you’ve just done and freeze. Your hand lingers on his hair.

He freezes too, mid-sentence, and looks at your hand, his neck getting so red in just a few seconds.

"Oh, look at that. Your girlfriend is taking good care of you." The man in front of you teases. 

“I’m sorry.” You try to retreat your hands as gracefully as possible so it won’t look suspicious. His hair is back in its place.

"Don't apologize." Bucky smiles, taking your hand into his. "She's always shy in public."

“I forgot for a second we are in public.” That’s not a lie. You really forgot your surroundings and how you were supposed to behave.

"What a beautiful girlfriend you have, Barnes."

You can feel your cheeks burning because of his words. You are not his girlfriend obviously, but will he point that out?

"She's also incredibly smart. You know, she started her own bakery a few months ago in this crazy market."

“Really?”

"Yes, with no help either. I'm really proud of her."

Did he just say he’s proud of you? Jesus christ…

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You know why?” He’s directly asking you that question, and you just shake your head as in no. “Because he started his own company, probably around your age, too.”

"Michael..."

That you didn’t know. You had no idea how he got this rich, and hearing that makes you feel more hopeful.

“I’m just saying.” The man continues. “I can see why you like her. And she’s pretty lucky because she can get the best investment advice or tips on how to run a successful business from you.”

"Oh, trust me, I am luckier." He gives you the warmest smile you've ever received.

You have no idea what to say or do. Should you act like his girlfriend? Should you just smile and nod? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? You should return the compliment. You would definitely do that if he was your boyfriend. 

“Oh, I know how lucky I am,” you say with a smile.

Bucky takes a quick look at his watch. "Alright, I think we need to go. Tomorrow is a long work day. Hope you don't mind." He shakes Michael's hand.

"It was nice to see you."

You are glad it’s finally time to leave. You were getting worried about how much longer you would have to stay here. Not because of him. Bucky seems like a perfectly nice guy, but this fancy place makes you uncomfortable. You gently smile while shaking Michael’s hand and take Bucky’s arm.

"Have a good evening. It was nice to meet you."

“It was nice meeting you too, Michael.”

"I'm sorry for that. Took too long," Bucky whispers in your ear.

“The event isn’t even over yet. We are leaving early.” He shouldn’t have to say sorry for something you agreed to do.

"Is it okay if we drive you home?" He gestures to his driver who's pulling in. You didn't even realize when he texted him.

“You don’t have to, I can take a cab.”

"At this hour?" He puffs. "Not in a thousand years. My driver can drop you off." Bucky offers instantly. It's clear he won't let this go.

“Only if it won’t be a bother…”

"Of course not." He gestures to his driver. "I want you to drop the lady off and make sure she gets inside safely, please. I'll take a cab."

“What?” You didn’t expect him to take a cab. “No, I can’t accept that.”

"Please. Also thank you for tonight, I am really grateful and I enjoyed having you here."

“Bucky…” You stop for a second, feeling hesitation over using his name. “Can I call you Bucky?”

"Of course."

“Bucky, thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You are a gentleman, but I can’t take your car. I thought you meant dropping me at my place on your way home.”

"I thought..." he pauses. "You felt uncomfortable around me and that's why you refused the ride."

“No. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you?”

He smiles shyly and opens the door for you. "Alright, then let's go."

You really don’t know why he thought that and it bothers you. While you take your seat, you decide to apologize for what happened in there. Maybe that’s why he felt uneasy.

He looks absolutely confused when you actually say the words. "What?"

“I am just really sorry about what I did back there. I don’t know what came over me.”

"What did you do?”

“You know… Making you uncomfortable by fixing your hair.”

Bucky can't help but giggle softly. "Why would you apologize for that? That was very thoughtful, thanks."

His giggle catches you off guard. “I thought… I crossed a boundary.”

"No, not at all. Sorry for the boring conversations."

“It wasn’t that boring. I actually learned a couple of things.”

Bucky smiles. "Did you? Not surprised, you're a businesswoman after all."

“I try to be.” You smile back even though you are feeling kinda sad that your time with him is about to end.

"I think you have a big potential. You control your emotions very well. You are smart and know how to enjoy good wine." He gives you a playful but innocent wink as he says the last part.

“And now I know you, so I can ask for business advice.” You repeat Michael’s words very poorly.

Bucky nods. "Of course. And you know maybe I can help... with a donation."

“A donation?” You really didn’t mean to sound that offended, but you are.

He frowns. "Yeah, I really think you got potential in business and it's hard when no one helps you."

Talking about money always bothers you. Getting paid for going out with someone already feels wrong enough, but the way he walks about it makes you feel worse. 

“Can we…. not… talk about this?” Your discomfort is much more clear in your voice than you realize.

"I-Of course, sorry if I bothered you," he immediately says apologetically.

“Talking about money like this bothers me and… just to be clear, I don’t want any help.”

"I understand. I wasn't trying to intrude."

You offer him a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

"I'm really so-"

"Is this the right address?" The driver interrupts Bucky all of a sudden.

“Yeah, it is.” Your answer comes instantly.

"Perfect."

“Thank you…” You stop for a minute realizing you don’t know his name. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before.”

"Noah."

“Thank you, Noah.” Then you turn to Bucky. “And thank you for tonight, Bucky.”

"Thank you." You give him one more smile before opening the door. "Wait."

“What?”

"Are you free on 18?"

“I… think so. Why?”

"I have a proposal for you."

*

As the 18th comes closer, you get more worried about what to wear. You used your fanciest dress at that event and now your options are pretty limited. You search your closet and try to think of a friend who would let you borrow a dress. That’s when you finally see that simple black dress. That might work. When you put it on, your feelings are conflicted, though. It looks good on you, but it doesn’t seem good enough. You are not completely sure about how fancy this event is. Maybe… maybe you can ask him. 

< Hey. Sorry to bother you but how fancy is this event?

> Hey, no bother. Like the one we attended.

> Why?

< I’m not sure about my dress. Is it okay if I show it to you? I don’t wanna be underdressed.

> I am sure that's impossible but of course.

You send a mirror selfie, showing your dress.

>You look very beautiful.

>The dress is absolutely amazing too, but it's a black-tie event. Would you consider me disrespectful if I sent my stylist to you?

< Thank you. 

< No, of course not. I need help. I would appreciate it.

> Gonna send Lila a message and then I'll give her your number if that's okay.

< That’s perfectly okay. Thank you and again sorry to bother you with something like this.

> You don't bother me.

> I mean it.

< I know you are busy. That’s what I meant.

> Well, I am sure you are very busy yourself.

> How is the bakery and how was the meeting?

< I’m done working for the day. So I get to worry about the dress I’m gonna wear.

< The meeting went well but I didn’t hear anything from them yet.

> I hope it was a full day.

> I mean with many clients.

> And I hope they will give you a call.

< It was a tiring day. How was yours?

> Tiring, but productive, thank you for asking.

> Lila will call you in two minutes. She's a nice person. She manages to make me look decent every time.

< You look more than decent and I don’t think it’s all her doing.

5 minutes later

< Talked to Lila. We go shopping tomorrow. Thanks again for the help.

> Don't thank me for that. My pleasure. Have a good evening.

< You too.

The next day, you meet Lila and go shopping together like you agreed. She seems like a fun person and definitely understands your style. Her suggestions are great. but the only problem is the cost When you notice the price tags, you want to leave, but she assures you that it is all taken care of. That’s when you realize Bucky Barnes is paying for this shopping trip. You feel dumb for not thinking about this while talking to him. That’s why he was guarded when he offered help. That usually restlessness creeps up on you because you don’t want his help like this, but Lila convinces you that he is the reason you need new dresses anyway. And it is true. He is dressing you so you look the part. That eases your anxiety and finally, you are able to enjoy your dress hunt. When you come back home, you are completely exhausted but ready for any event he might want to take you. 

*

> Hi

> How are you?

< I’m good, getting ready. How are you?

> I am good too.

> I was wondering if you mind me picking you up...

< You wanna pick me up?

> Yes. I might need your address again, though.

< Noah doesn’t remember?

< I am picking you up.

Oh.

> You should say no if you don't want that.

< No, why wouldn’t I? I just didn’t think you would come without your driver for some reason.

> Do you want me to come with Noah?

> I can.

< I don’t need someone extra to feel comfortable around you, Bucky. 

< It’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do, I will be fine with it.

> Perfect 🙂

> 7:30 or 8? We should totally skip half an hour.

> So boring

< That emoji makes me feel like I did something wrong and you are being kind.

< Both are fine by me.

> See you at 8 then 😁

> Since you hate the other emoji

< Oh this one is much better.

< See you at 8. Leave your overthinking hat at home.

You quickly send him your address.

> Thank you

*

The evening comes even quicker than you expected. He picks you up alone and you have a great conversation on your way to the event. He gives you some pointers about it and the people you will most likely have to talk to and warns you that it’s gonna be boring. And he is right. It is even more boring than the first one. A lot of speeches and conversations with people you don’t know. You try to stay composed and play your part, trying to hide the fact that you are bored as fuck. Bucky comes to your rescue with a fun game. He makes funny comments and on-point jokes before and/or after you talk to someone. His observation skills are extraordinary. He notices stuff that you wouldn’t normally remark. Like a missing wedding ring, so he knows not the mention their spouse during their conversation. He whispers into your ear and makes you laugh the whole night. Hearing his voice that close, and feeling his breath on your neck drives you crazy. Does he know the effect he has on you? Is he doing it on purpose or is he just trying to pass the time as pleasantly as possible? You don’t know. Just like the first event, you leave a little bit early. He drives you back home, offers you a warm smile, and mentions when the next event will take place. You just nod in agreement, already looking forward to it.

*

> Friends or The Office?

> Also hi

< The Office. Love how intentionally awkward it is.

< Hiii back.

> How are you?

> Let me guess who you like the most

> Is he tall?

< Yeah genius, it’s Jim.

< I’m good, how are you?

> I knew you have taste.

> I am good. Now even better.

< Why better?

< Also who else could I like? He’s the only sane person in that office.

> Because I talk to you.

> So true.

He’s feeling better because he’s talking to you. God, that makes your blood rush.

< I like talking to you, too.

< Okay I have a question. What do you think of Karen?

> Karen? Don't make me be a hater while texting.

> It would never end.

> You?

< You know the word hater? I’m impressed.

< I don’t like her either. She tried too hard to make things work.

> I am 34, not 304!

> I feel offended

< It’s so easy to tease you.

> She is boring and annoying. More annoying than that douchebag.

< You mean Roy?

> Yeah

> That punching scene though

< God, that guy is a walking red flag. 

< Pam was truly blind.

> She was. Sad...

< Favorite season?

> Hard.

> Very hard.

> Maybe 4.

> Yours?

< Either 4 or 6.

> Tastee

< You are starting to sound like me 

> Well, I am older, so it's the other way around

< Sure old man. Whatever you say 

> Old but handsome, to quote you

< I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m tipsy.

> Excusess

< Shh you are exposing me too much

As time passes, your conversations become friendlier. You don’t feel like this is something you have to do just to keep your business going. It feels like you two enjoy each other’s company. It feels like flirting. Yet you are not sure if that’s how he feels about all this, too. 

> Hi. Are you home?

< Yeah?

> in a few minutes you might have a delivery

< A delivery? 

< Bucky what did you buy this time?

> I can sense a tone

< Can you?

> A bratty tone.

> You'll see when it comes.

Just a few minutes later you open the door and see a huge bouquet of flowers.

< Jesus Bucky!

< These are so pretty!

< Thank youu.

> No complaining, huh?

> Glad you like them.

> I can complain if that’s what you want.

> I want you to be good and put them in a vase.

< They are already in a vase, sir.

You send a photo of the flowers in your prettiest vase.

> Great.

< I can’t stop smelling them.

> Noted

< I’ve got something to show you. Well two things because I can’t decide.

> Waiting

You send two mirror selfies in two different dresses. The first one is a black dress with a high slit on the right side. The other one is a simple pastel pink dress but the cleavage is on display a little.

< Which one should I wear for the next event?

> You think I am the right person to choose?

< I am your date, aren’t I?

> They both look great.

> Depends on what you want.

< That’s what I think too!

< And that’s why I can’t decide.

< Please help me out.

> Pink?

< Pink it is.

< Thank you.

*

What you didn't expect from this arrangement is how your attachment grows more and more every time you see Bucky. He makes it hard not to miss him with his smile and his jokes, the way he tries to integrate you and always asks how you feel. Truth be told, you're not even professional anymore and you catch yourself wanting to make a move on him every time he compliments you. But you can't, so you're forced to wait for him to do it. And you really hope he will.

*

You probably put too much faith in a rich person because when you see your notification from the banking app, you have to refrain from making a scene. You check twice just to be sure. For some reason, you are paid double the amount for this date and it’s not because he missed any previous payments. No, he just decided to pay you more the moment you started to grow closer.

When you look at him, he immediately catches something's wrong and leans in to whisper. 

"What happened?"

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Because you know if you do, your whole act will be exposed.

Bucky nods and looks at the rest of the table. "We're gonna head back home now. It was really nice to see you."

His reaction surprises you. You have the whole night ahead of us and he already paid you double. Why does he want to leave already?

"Of course. Have a good evening!"

“Oh, are you really leaving this early?” Someone else asks.

"Yes. We have plans for tomorrow pretty early in the morning."

“Ah! Too bad. Still, it was nice seeing you two.”

You both nod before you make your way to the door. You absently watch him asking for both of your coats and holding the door for you.

The way he’s acting like everything is fine infuriates you more. You really hoped something was going to happen between you two. It felt like you were headed in that direction, but you are not so sure anymore. Maybe he never saw it that way. Maybe he was thinking the worst of you and he’s just paying you more for everything he considers extra. It makes you feel nauseous.

"I should have made them change the plate…  Do you have an allergic reaction?"

“Yeah, I am having an allergy reaction.” You lash out as soon as you feel safe to react. “An allergic reaction to you trying to buy everything.”

"What?" He looks at you so confused as if he didn't double paid you a moment ago.

“Tell me it’s just a mistake and you didn’t do it on purpose.”

"Do what? Pay you?"

Oh… He did it on purpose. And just like that the last hope you were hanging on vanishes. 

“Yeah, pay me double just as we were getting closer. Is that all I am to you?” 

"All you are to me?" He repeats shocked.

“Someone you can pay for whatever you want.” You don’t wait for an answer. You just keep going. “Of course, that’s all I am. What else can I be? It’s my fault for accepting this… deal. I put myself in this position. Why would you see me as someone other than a hooker.”

"Stop!" He screams back but not as loudly as you do. "What are you saying? What the actual fuck? When did I even imply that? Paying you double has nothing to do with disrespecting you! Contrary!"

“You don’t have to say it! The moment we started to get closer, you decided to pay me double. I don’t need to be Einstein to put 2 and 2 together.”

He scrunches his nose. "How about us getting closer and me wanting to help you, huh? Did that ever cross your mind? Me wanting to help you pay your debt faster, knowing the effort you make to accompany me to these," he gestures to the place behind you. "But no, of course, you didn't because you think the lowest of me. That I would believe I can buy you and your affection!" 

“Help me?” He must be joking. “When I specifically told you I don’t want help!”

"I just don't want you to struggle. Is it so bad?" His voice is soft now while he stares at you, trying to show you he's entirely honest 

“Have you ever stopped for a second and thought how getting help would make me feel? I’ll tell you. It makes me feel like a failure.”

"You're not a failure. And getting help doesn't make anything you did and do less important, especially since it's small. Please..." he sighs. "Let's continue talking in the car at least, it's freezing. You shouldn't get sick."

“Fine. I will get in, but this… this conversation is not over.” He’s right. It’s freezing and you can’t take it anymore.

He nods gratefully and opens the door for you, which you close with force.

As soon as he gets in the car and starts the engine, he turns on the ac, giving you a look. You keep taking deep breaths and avoid looking at him.

"Please... do you really think that low of me?"

"I don't know what to think anymore." You finally look back at him. "Are you gonna drive or are we gonna have this conversation here?"

"I don't want to drive you home upset. I want to talk about it..."

You stop for a second, consider your options. You can't have this conversation in a public place. "Your place or mine?"

*

Money is clearly not an issue for him so he probably didn't even blink to pay you double you realize as you get inside the house. You try not to look around too curiously. Your image in his eye is already as bad as it could get.

"How low do you think of me?" He repeats the same question while he starts to take off his shoes.

“I should be asking you that question.”

"You're the one who thinks I tried to buy you as a hooker."

“What were you trying to do then if not buying my affection? And don’t tell me helping!”

"To help."

“I don’t want help!” You don’t notice how loud you are. “I don’t want anyone’s help! I have to do this on my own. Is that so hard to understand?”

"Yes and no." He sighs. "I get this drive, I had it too, but I wish you could try to see... that you don't have to do this alone. But instead, you think I see you as someone buyable." 

“Imagine when you started your business and had debt, someone had the means to help you, just give you money like it’s nothing and you don’t get to pay it back. Would you accept it? Would you think it’s your success if someone helped you out like that? Just be honest and answer.”

"Fuck no." He sighs. "But you deserve the money. And you put up with the events and your business..."

“Fuck no indeed. I want to do this myself. I have to prove myself I’m not a failure like my-” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.

"What? Like what?"

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to prove that to myself, okay?”

"How could you think you are failing when you already did so much?

“As long as this business doesn’t succeed, whatever I’ve done so far does not matter. Only the result matters.” You don’t notice you are repeating your father’s words.

"That is bullshit. You think success is based on wins only?"

“It doesn’t feel like winning when you are worried about paying the next month's salaries.”

"That's a worry that honestly doesn't stop. Or at least not for me. Success means failure and worries sometimes. Success means trying and holding on."

“I’m not here to have a conversation about what you view as success, Bucky. I’m here because I’m mad at you.”

"You're mad at me, but you think I am an awful person." He starts taking off his jacket.

“I’m mad at you because you can’t pay me double just because you want to. That’s not how real life works.” 

"Oh, really?" He smiles sarcastically. "I should totally give zero shits about you worrying about paying salaries and having student debt. Totally real-life fun stuff."

“Student debt? How do you even know about that?”

"You mentioned it."

“I don’t remember mentioning my student debt to you.”

He puffs, not breaking eye contact. "I have ears."

“You heard me mentioning my student debt and decided to pay me double?” He’s unbelievable.

"Yes."

“Do you have any idea how much you were paying me before?”

Bucky blushes embarrassed and strokes his beard. "No..."

“You were already paying me nearly a monthly salary. Just for going on a date with you once a week. Do you have any idea how it made me feel seeing that double payment in my account while I was hoping for…”

"Fuck, I want to say I am sorry, but I am not. I am not buying you, no matter how low you think of me. I want to help you. I thought we are already friends."

“Friends.” You give him a bitter smile. “Friends don’t pay each other.”

"Friends help each other." He is getting closer to you.

“Not without the other one asking for help.”

"You're impossible." He sighs. "You can pay me back at some point." He is so serious.

“Which point will that be?”

"Whenever you won't be worried about salaries."

“You said it yourself, that time never comes.”

"Please, doll." He closes his eyes, not even realizing what he said.

“Please what?”

"Can we just stop fighting?"

“We can if you stop paying me.”

"It's your money. You come with me every time. This event was more boring than usual... consider this a bonus for putting up with it and me." 

“I don’t want- I don’t need that.”

"Why not? It's just for now." He seems upset. "Do you want nothing to do with me anymore?"

“I don’t need money to… enjoy my evening with you. I was actually hoping for you to… you know… stop paying me soon.”

"You want to end this?" He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. His voice starts trembling.

“I want to end the payments.”

"So no more events..."

“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t want you to pay me for that anymore.”

"Oh." Bucky thinks a little. "You want to come to meet more people?" 

“Dear god… You are so dense for a smart businessman sometimes!”

"You are calling me dumb."

“Yeah, because you are being dumb or just acting dumb, I don’t know anymore. You can call me if you want me to accompany you as your friend… or date, okay? It’s up to you now.” You reach for your stuff to leave his place.

"I just want to know why you'd find it so bad for me to pay you. Would you not pay me?"

“Don’t you really see the implication?”

"What implication? Tell me what you think."

“Would you pay me if we had sex?”

He freezes, completely taken aback. "What?"

“You heard what I said. Would you love me like you paid me, too?”

"You want to fuck me?" He asks unsure. As if he doesn’t know if he heard you right.

“Do you need things spelled out for you like this?”

"Do you mean it?"

“I have already said too much, Bucky. I think it’s better if I go.”

He grabs your hand when you turn toward the door. "I don't think you said enough."

“You want me to embarrass myself more?” He rolls his eyes. “I think I have made myself clear enough. Time for me to leave.”

"Come on." He smiles. "You didn't say anything."

You let a frustrated breath out. “Take care, Bucky.”

"Doll, please. You can't leave in the middle of a conversation like this!"

“Of course, I can leave. What else is there to talk about?”

"You asked if I'd pay you for sex."

“And I think I got my answer.”

"No, I would not pay you for sex."

“Because you didn’t even consider that option.”

He puffs, and you notice sweat drops on his neck. "Why did you even ask that? I already said I do not consider you buyable." 

He is very close now, holding both of your hands and staring into your soul.

“Because that’s how I feel every time you pay me to spend time with you.”

"God, doll. You are really fucking impossible. You think I don't want to kiss you or fuck you? I think about it all the goddamn time if I let myself, but we had an arrangement..."

“And that’s why I wanna end the arrangement.”

"Done." His answer is instant.

“So you can take me out on a normal date, maybe.”

"Yeah?" He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop both: your coat and bag. But you don’t look down even when they hit the floor. 

“If you want…” You feel your voice suddenly getting smaller.

"May I kiss you?"

“Only if you aren’t gonna ask permission for everything.”

He snorts. "Just answer." 

“You may.”

He does, moving a hand to your chin as he immediately tries to deepen the kiss. The way he kisses you takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to start this kiss so strongly, but you definitely aren’t complaining. His other hand goes from your waist to your ass, grabbing it over your pants. You gasp in surprise, which interrupts the kiss.

He smiles. "Hi."

“Hi.” You try to catch your breath while he starts to kiss down your neck without warning. Your right hand trails up from his neck to his hair as you let out a low moan.

"Fuck." He starts sucking on a spot below your collarbone.

“Jesus, Bucky…” You try to sound as normal as possible. “Take a girl out to dinner first.”

"You want dinner?"

“Well, not right now.” 

"What do you want right now?" 

“Just keep doing what you were doing.”

He kisses you so sloppily, his hands going under your shirt without realizing. You wrap your hands around his neck and close the remaining distance between your bodies.

"Fuck, you taste so good."

“Maybe it’s the lipstick.” You joke and without letting him answer, you start to kiss him again, immediately using your tongue. He moans in the middle of the kiss and then opens his mouth a little further, inviting you in. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt.

"Oh, fuck."

“Can I take this off?” You ask for permission the way he did before.

"Please." He is breathing slowly, looking at your hands

You take your time unbuttoning the shirt, testing his patience.

"Doll, please." His mouth finds your neck.

“Please what?”

"Faster."

“That part comes later,” You say with a suggestive tone and he snorts, leaving another kiss on your neck.

"Left you a few pretty marks." 

“Maybe I should give you some too.”

"Later." When you finally finish unbuttoning, he takes it off in a heartbeat. "Hope you won't hate me."

“For what?” He simply rips your shirt in half in response. “Bucky!” His hands grab your bra while you are still talking. “That was an expensive top!” 

"Was." He just rips off the bra, too. "Just like this was on you. Past tense.”

"Do not!" You lift your finger. "Rip off anything else!"

He bites that finger without hesitation, sucking in it further. You try to take your finger back. 

“Jesus Bucky, how am I gonna go back home now?”

"What? You want to go home?"

“I have to go home eventually, you know.”

"I have clothes, you know?" He starts to take off your belt. "Pants too." You can see he wants to get rid of them too.

“You want me to leave your house in your clothes?”

He kisses her. "What?"

You take a deep, annoyed breath. “Fine, I will worry about this later.”

"May I rip these too?"

“No. No more ripping, please.”

"Alright," he says disappointed but lets you take off your pants while he’s simply staring at your breasts.

“At least I have this to wear while going back home,” you say, swinging your underwear.

"You talk so much about leaving."

“Hmm, do I?”

"Yeah." He's obviously trying not to show he's upset, but he's failing. And this makes you happy… the fact he doesn’t want you to leave.

“Does it bother you?”

"No," he whispers and looks at his own pants. "I can just make you feel good, you know? No rush, then I'll drive you home as you want."

You reach for his pants and start to unbuckle it. “I have a mind that… keeps on worrying. I think about stuff I have to do later constantly, but there’s a way to turn it off. At least for a while.”

He tries to stop you. "I can make you feel good, drive you home and take you on a date tomorrow." 

You finally understand what he actually means. “What? No. That’s not what I want.”

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure you understand we can stop like any time."

“Oh, I know. I just don’t want to.”

"Okay." He smiles and lets his hands fall down.

“I feel like you are tiptoeing around me. Where’s that Bucky I see at these boring events every week?”

"He's here, just trying to do everything right. But I don't know what you mean by that Bucky."

"I mean that Bucky who doesn't hesitate."

"This is different though. I don't want you to think I am a douche, you know?" He sighs. "I don't want you uncomfortable."

"Your hesitation gives me anxiety. And I know you by now. You don't need to worry about that." You push his pants down and they pool around his ankles. Impatiently, he takes off his boxers himself and steps out of them.

"Alright then. Should we move to the bedroom?"

But you are too busy to finally look at him, all naked, to hear him. He looks better than you anticipated and that makes you even more eager to touch him.

He tries not to smile, but it's hard.

“Uhm… what?”

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going."

“Okay.” You move closer and start kissing him again. You grab him gently yet firmly and start moving your hand slowly, just to get him used to the feeling.

"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Feels good."

You gently bite his lower lip while you keep moving your hand. It’s still slow, but you pay attention to grab his balls and brush against the tip, just to see his reactions

"Doll..."

“Hmm?” You stop kissing him and look into his eyes as you decide to kneel down.

"Doll, no." He groans. "Fuck, I really dreamed about this, but let's go to bed."

“If you dreamed about it, why are you saying no?”

"Because we can do something else fun for you too."

“Oh, believe me, this is fun.” You take your tongue out, swiping it on the shaft from the bottom to the top, making him moan immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask, your lower lip touching the tip. He doesn't even seem to hear you.

“Hmm…” And that’s your answer. You take the tip into your mouth, gently licking. "Oh, shit," He moans and without thinking he wraps his hand around your ponytail.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, occasionally swiping on that sensitive spot that makes him moan really loudly. "Holy fuck." He's fully playing with your hair now. "Baby, please..." He doesn't seem to know what he's begginh for though.

“Hmm?” You silently ask while your tongue keeps working on him.

"We should... stop."

You take your mouth off him for a second, just enough to ask: “Why?” Then you take him right back inside your mouth.

"I'm gonna come," he says a little embarrassed.

He might have wanted you to stop because of that, but you have no intention of doing it. You want him to feel good, so you grab the shaft, moving it up and down while you take your mouth off for a few more seconds.

“Then come.” 

Your tongue goes back to the tip, moving in sync with your hand. He can't even ask you if he should pull out because he's already coming in your mouth. You keep moving your head and hand until he finally hisses because of overstimulation.

"Doll."

You look at him while swallowing. “Yeah?”

"Thank you so much, I'm just... fuck me," he groans at the sight in front of him. There is something absolutely sinful about you like this. "I am just really sensitive."

“That’s normal.” You kiss his cock really gently on a spot that wouldn’t cause any discomfort. He lets go of your hair and smiles. You quickly wipe away that line of come dripping down to your chin before he helps you stand up and kisses you hard. You are already unbelievably wet, but the way he uses his tongue takes it to another level. He lifts you in his arms when you least expect and a yelp leaves your lips.

"Gonna take you to the bedroom."

“Yeah, okay.” You wrap your legs around his torso, trying to hide your excitement.

"I'm gonna eat you, okay?" He opens the door with his leg.

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the throbbing between your legs.

"You want to ride my face, pretty doll? Or do you want me on my knees?"

“God…” You think for a second, both options being tempting. “On your knees.”

"You want me on my knees? Want me to beg to eat your pussy?"

“Would you?”

"Beg for it?" He puffs. "For you? Of course."

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

"Just Bucky." He puts you down on the bed and kneels. You laugh a little. His nervousness is definitely fading away. He smiles and starts kissing below your knee. "Please, can I eat you, baby?"

“Oh god… I wanna hear that again.”

"I am begging. Please, allow me." He kisses all the way up.

“It’s all yours.”

He makes the most animalistic sound you've heard from his mouth before and lifts both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Gonna let me do it over and over again?"

“I might wanna do different things in between, but yes…” That makes him smile.

"Thank you." Then he finally starts licking at your entrance.

The first moan you let out sounds like you are trying to catch your breath. Bucky's fingers dig into your thighs when he properly enters you with his tongue.

“Oh god...” That feels amazing. He says nothing, trying to move his tongue around for a little while testing what you like. You instinctively move your hips a little, forcing his tongue closer to your clit.

"Fuck." You barely hear him say as he properly moves his mouth to your clit.

“Yess!” You shake with excitement. Bucky starts to flick his tongue gently on your clit, bringing his hand to your entrance. You don’t realize how you are moving your hips to create more friction. And he adds the first finger inside you without stopping his tongue motion. 

“Ahh, yes.” It sounds like you have been waiting for this forever. His free hand goes up just to squeeze and massage each breast as he adds his second finger.

“Bucky, fuck!” It feels like he’s everywhere. His flicks turn into full licks while his fingers move faster.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna- come.” You can already feel your legs shaking. He continues the pace exactly like this and moans against your clit.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuckk. God, please- don’t stop. Please.” He doesn't stop, he couldn't even if he tried, eager to make you come.

After a few seconds, something snaps inside you and finally, you feel loose. Your whole body is shaking and you can’t get enough of the way he makes you feel. The movement of his tongue, the way his fingers move… And it doesn’t end quickly. No, he keeps going and you feel the same high over and over again until it’s too much to bear. You stop him by grabbing a handful of his hair.

“That was… incredible.” He smiles, raising his head enough for you to see how wet he is. “Jesus…” His beard is soaked. You had no idea you were that wet.

"Just Bucky." He repeats the same joke as he licks his lips.

“Your beard… it’s so wet.” You are too shocked to react to his joke.

"Wanna clean it for me?" He winks and god, he looks so charming.

“Come here.” You open your arms.

He hugs you immediately, his beard making contact directly with your breasts as he’s spreading your wetness all over them.

"Oops." He giggles. "Guess I have to clean up my mess."

You giggle, too. “You know you don’t need an excuse to suck my nipples, right?”

"What? This is not what I'm doing. I like to clean." 

And just like that, you feel Bucky's tongue all over your tits, making sure to avoid your nipples.

“Hmm… That feels good.” He bites a little the skin on your left breast, and you whine in response.

"Hurting?"

“A little.”

"Sorry, baby." He sucks a little around the bite as an apology.

"It's fine. Come here and gimme a kiss."

"No." He gets stubborn and he finally takes the first nipple into his mouth.

You grab his hair and force him away from your nipple. "You are so stubborn."

"You like pulling my hair."

"I was thinking about pulling it for a long time."

"Why didn't you?"

"Well, I touched it instead of pulling. On our first date." 

"Yes." He smiles giving you a small kiss. "Not enough."

“There’s no way I could pull your hair there, you know.”

"True. I would moan."

"You and me both." You giggle again.

"So you felt okay?"

"Okay?"

He smiles. "More than okay?"

"You have no idea how okay that was."

"Probably not. You get to feel pleasure in ways I never will."

"Poor you. We should totally try to change that."

He snorts. "You want to suck me again? Or do you want to fuck me?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Yeah?" He kisses your cheeks. "That's easy."

"Yeah?" Your hips move a little, rubbing against his erection. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Gonna be right back." He tries to get up, but you stop him.

"Condom?"

"Yep. Any preference?" 

"Yeah, none if possible."

Bucky looks at you confused. "What?” He thinks maybe you meant the flavor. “I can find one without it." 

"I meant no condom because I'm on the pill, so it's up to you."

"You sure?" You aren’t sure if he’s excited or surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be? As long as you are clean."

"Want me to bring my blood tests?"

You laugh a little because you know he means it and you couldn’t help but imagine him dutifully showing you the papers. "I will take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."

"Mr Barnes?" He repeats amused as he spreads your legs properly. "Are you gonna call me that when I come inside you, too?"

"Mr. Barnes sounds too formal for that. Gotta find something else for that moment."

He grabs and positions himself at your entrance. "I'm sure you're creative."

You push your hips impatiently. "I will find something fitting."

He enters you without waiting, but he's careful not to hurt you so he stops for a little. You throw your head back because of the way you feel with his cock inside you. A lower, nearly animalistic moan escapes your lips. 

"Oh god."

"Please move."

He kisses you gently as he finally starts to thrust slowly. You are so wet that he's moving so smoothly, dragging your walls every time he pulls back and then filling you up all over again.

"Aren't you a wet little doll?" He shifts his weight on his elbows that he places on both sides of your head.

"I’m so unbelievably wet." 

"Perfect." He buries his head into your neck and starts to move faster.

“I have been… imagining how… this would feel.”

"Did you dream about it?" He doesn’t miss the chance to ask that.

“Once.”

"Only once?" He tries not to sound disappointed, but he fails.

“Yeah, and I was surprised because I don’t dream about sex.”

"How?" He starts sucking harder.

“Ahh.” You moan softly. “During one of those fancy events.”

"Fuck." He lifts his head to look at you. "Did you dream of me fucking you in the closet? Or the baby changing room?"

“In a dark closet. Suddenly you are all over me.”

"Fucking you from behind? Or holding my baby?"

“You were holding me and- ahh. I was trying to- stay quiet. But- you kept fucking me- harder.” His hips move so fast now you can barely speak. 

"Did you scream?"

“I was about to, but I woke up suddenly.”

"Fuck." He groans. "The worst. Did you finish the job?"

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I was so fucking wet.”

"Just...." He closes his eyes. "I'm imagining you using your little fingers under your panties to play with your clit- Shit."

“And it wasn’t enough.”

"No? Poor baby." He leans in to bite your bottom lip for a few seconds.

“It was frustrating.” You moan when he moves his hips a little harder. “Nowhere near… this.”

"Nothing like my cock? Like us?"

“Nuh-huh.”

"God, can't wait to come inside you... to see you dripping."

“Shit, Bucky. You can’t just say things like that.” It makes you clench hard. You need to come. Now.

"Why not? So fucking hot." His thrusts slow down but become deeper at the same time. "Dripping down your thighs. Gonna clean that up for you and share it." He curses. "Gonna pass you my come in a kiss."

“Oh fuck.” His words, the image just pushes you over that edge. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, please don’t come. Not yet. Please.”

"Why not? Do you want me to pull out?" He teases.

“I need one more.” You say while shaking hard. “Just one more.”

"I'm right here," he whispers assuringly. “I'm inside you, not going anywhere. I dreamed about you too." He pauses to curse. "Fuck, I was fucking my bed."

“Tell me… tell me about it.” The orgasm keeps washing you in waves. Over and over again until it fades away.

"You were in my office at work. Came to talk about a gala or we were leaving from there, I don’t know. And we just... we were suddenly kissing and I was ripping off your dress. And I was simply fucking you all over the desk."

“How did it feel?”

"Not even close to this, but it was good. So good. I almost came in my sleep."

“You didn’t come?” You finally feel like your breath is going back to normal. 

"I stroked myself after I woke up and came. A lot."

“Made a big mess because of me?”

"Mhm." He brings his fingers to your lips. "And you weren't there to help me." 

“I’m here now.”

"Gonna help me this time?" His index finger plays with her bottom lip.

“Oh, I will.” You bite his finger gently. “And no mess this time. I’m here to take every drop of your come.”

"You sure you can?" He teases. "What if it's too much?"

“It’s all mine. I don’t care if it’s too much.”

"I'm all yours."

“Oh, Bucky.” You feel like you are melting. You kiss him on the lips passionately. “I’m all yours, too.”

"Yeah?" He smiles and starts thrusting faster. "Aren't you a pretty little doll? All mine, ready to take my come."

“Yours.” You repeat and that familiar pleasure starts to build up again, but you want to try something else. Something you have been imagining. “Can you… flip me over?”

"Sure," he answers a little surprised, and helps you move.

“I have been imagining how this would feel.”

"Thought you did it only once." 

“You know dreaming and imagining are different things, right?” You tease him. You can’t see his expression, but you know he made a face right after hearing your words.

"How many times did you imagine it?'

“Oh, who knows? A lot of times.”

"Tell me what did you imagine when we were like this." He squeezes your hips, so turned on to see your on all fours.

“You fucking me hard.”

"How hard?" He teases leaning in to kiss your back.

“As hard as you can.”

As soon as he starts to properly thrust inside you, a few gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. The positions opens you up in a different way. 

"God, this is... fuck me."

“Yeah, I would say- the same.” It’s hard to speak when he is pounding you like this.

"You're making such a mess on the bed, baby. Around my cock. God, so fucking wet."

“Should I apologize for the mess?” You ask cheekily because he seems so gone.

"You should." He squeezes your ass. "By making a bigger mess."

“I think- that’s- possible.”

"Yeah?" He fucks you even harder, properly using his knees and your hips. "You gonna come?" 

“Yeah! Please!”

"Please what?" 

“Please, daddy.” The words leave your lips before your mind can register them.

"Holy fuck, what did you just say?" He barely manages to keep going, just slowing down. He looks at you as if he doesn't know if he imagined something, and that's how you  realize what you said.

“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” You start to panic.

"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, assuring. "What are you sorry for?"

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just… thinking that.”

"God, baby." He tries to turn your head to look into your eyes by grabbing your chin and titling it up. "You think of me as your daddy?"

“Is it bad if I do?”

"Yeah, it's bad because I can come any second when you call me that." He kisses your forehead. "Be a good girl for daddy and try to come, okay?"

“God, Bucky.” You moan because of his words. You’ve imagine this, indeed, a lot of times, but hearing it? It’s something that can’t be described.

He pulls your hair. "Daddy."

“Oh, fuck.” It turns you on even more and you don’t know how that’s even possible. “Yes, daddy.”

"Did you imagine this, too?" He is leaving you breathless with the way he is pounding you, yet he still demands an answer. "Did you imagine calling me daddy while I fuck you like this?" 

“Yes.” You are so close to coming. So close that you can taste it. “I did- so many times.”

One of his hands finds your right breast and sqeezes. "Please, come for daddy. Gonna be a good girl and come?"

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuckk, I’m coming!” The way your orgasm hits you makes you lose the last drop of control you had over your body. You can’t think of anything beside Bucky and how good he’s making you feel. His pace quickens for a second before he comes. He doesn't manage to warn you he's coming too, but he doesn't have to. His moan and the feeling of his come are enough.

He keeps it going until both of you finish and when you do, the only thing that you can hear is your loud breaths. Then you feel a trail of kisses all over your back.

“Oh my god,” you finally manage to speak.

"Just Bucky." He reaches your neck. "Or daddy."

You laugh. “God, you are so smug.”

"Smug?" He smiles and pokes your skin with his tongue. 

You turn around, finally fully facing him. “Yeah, daddy is real smug.” It feels so good to be able to call him that without worrying about anything else.

"Thank you."

“Who knew Bucky Barnes had a daddy kink?” You can’t help but say. 

"Not Bucky Barnes himself." He snorts.

“You just found out?”

"Yeah." He burst into laughter a bit embarrassed. He’s never thought about being called daddy before, especially not in bed, but with you? With you, it just makes sense. It feels hot.

“Oh god, I am so lucky.”

"Did you always have a daddy kink?"

“I didn’t even know I had one before meeting you.”

Bucky's smile is so big. "Fuck, I am the lucky one." He kisses you properly now, immediately trying to open your mouth by licking your bottom lip. 

“I thought I would freak you out, but look at you, fully embracing it.” 

"How could I not?"

“You liked it that much, daddy?” You wrap your arms around his neck playfully.

"God, I did. You're so hot when you say it. And the way you looked at me."

“How did I look at you?”

"Can't even explain it... I just wanna see that over and over again.”

“Well, you can.”

He scrunches his nose in the most adorable way possible. "Thank you."

“For what?”

"For everything. And for wanting me."

You frown because of that last part. “What does that even mean?” 

"Boring older man."

“Handsome older man, who I have been fantasizing about for a while.”

He giggles shily. "You make me sound like a dirty dream."

“Well, it’s because you are.”

"You are mine too."

“Lucky us.”

"You might never get rid off me." He kisses your forehead.

“I might be okay with that.”

*

It has been a while since you started to date Bucky. After that night, everything slowly started to fall into place. You found a great balance between your lives and your relationship, always making time for each other. You spend a lot of nights at his place. It doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like you are living together. Everything is so natural. 

“I just got the most unexpected call ever,” you say, still feeling fairly surprised by the job you got offered.

"What was it about?" Bucky is still in bed, surprisingly. He's usually the first the get up and go to the kitchen in the morning.

“Mrs. Moore called me to ask me if my bakery could do the catering for their next event.”

"Oh my god. That’s amazing."

“It is! But I am not sure if I can actually do it.”

Bucky frowns and immediately taps on the bed. "Come here."

You listen to him and continue talking while moving closer. “I haven’t given her the final answer yet, I acted like I need to check in to see if we are available, but the more I think about it, the more I notice how hard it would be.”

"I am gonna say something, but I don't think you'll like it."

“You will say you can help me out.”

"Yep." He gives you the biggest smile. "But it doesn't take away anything from your success or your efforts, okay? Just hear me out."

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.” You have been warming up to the idea of him helping you. Maybe not financially, but he has been helping you. He has the best ideas and a great perspective. So you won’t say no to hearing him out.

He reaches to hold your hand. 

"Let me take care of the transport and hire the extra stuff who can serve at the party. I'll call a friend." He pauses. "Just this once, okay? You can curse me out later, bit let me help so you can get more jobs in the future. This is a great opportunity."

“How did you even know I needed help with transport?”

"Baby," Bucky giggles at your confused pouty face. "It's a first experience. You don't have employees for this and it's a big party." Then he shurgs, like it wasn’t that hard to guess.

“Transport, service staff, and extra place to store the food. These are the problems I need to solve if I wanna do this.” You list the things you need to be able to take this job.

"Is that a yes?"

“That’s an I am considering it.”

In response, he simply raises on his knees and kisses you, with his hands on your neck. "Good girl."

“I didn’t say yes yet!”

"Ihm."

“If you assume I will say yes, it’s definitely gonna be a no.”

"No, I am very, very, very fucking horny right now."

“Just because I might say yes to your offer for help?”

Bucky blushes. "It's very hot. And I'm so hard..."

“Jesus… You really want a sugar baby, don’t you?” He must have. He loves the idea of taking care of your every need. That would explain why.

"I just like doing this for you."

“Do you like being useful or do you like spoiling?” You insist. You want him to say it.

He makes a sound from the back of his throat. "Can we just focus on you?"

“No, please… Tell me why exactly this turns you on.”

"I don't know." You see the sides of his neck getting red.

“But I wanna know.”

"Please, just..."

“Gimme an answer and I will give you one back.”

He takes a deep breath but doesn't look at you. "I just love spoiling you even though you don't let me."

You smile. “I might let you a little bit.”

"Just..." He sighs embarrassed. "Just ignore me, okay?"

“This is me… saying yes.” You spell it out for him.

"For my help?" He finally looks at you.

“Yeah.”

"Wow.” He sounds completely surprised. “This is... great." He tries to keep his emotions under control. "Then go ahead and uhm, call Moore back as I send a few messages, okay?"

“She can wait a little bit longer.” You gently grab his erection. He has gotten really excited just because you let him help you. It’s just unbelievable yet you love it. You love that he cares about you this much. “I need to take care of daddy first.”

[p0ckykiss]

the sound of flowers blooming - lee heeseung

summary -> you are shooting a couple photoshoot with your co-star lee heeseung. but what happens when you're told to look into each other’s eyes, and you realize that you really wanted to kiss him, and not just pretend?

warnings -> female reader x heeseung, alternate universe - actors, feelings realization, first kiss, fluff

"come quick, y/n. we’re already late because of this meeting." 

minji, your manager, grabbed your shoulders and pushed you out the door and into the underground parking lot.

"you’re telling me to hurry just because you're impatient to see your boyfriend,” you groaned, dragging your feet towards the van parked in between two smaller cars. 

“i'm sure you're impatient too, your beloved heeseung is waiting there too,” minji playfully tapped your back, “he must be looking so pretty all dolled up for your photoshoot.”

you rolled your eyes, although some odd feeling lodged itself at the pit of your stomach when you thought about having to shoot a couple photoshoot with your co-star. you heard minji click on the car keys, and watched as she came to slide the door open for you. 

"beloved?" you scoffed, "i hate him." 

"hate?" minji repeated as she sat down in the driver seat and started the car, glancing in the rear view mirror to look at you with a raised eyebrow. "then why does your face light up everytime you see him? and why do you smile at him like he hung the stars one by one in the sky?” 

"that’s acting! if you film a romance drama with someone of course you have to look at them as if you’re in love with them in front of the cameras!” you replied in one breath. “i’m an actor, acting is what I do… what kind of bullshit are you spitting?” 

“hey, watch your mouth! i’m still your manager! i regret ever telling you to talk to me as if i was your friend, you've gotten way too comfortable.” 

✻

in the span of maybe 10 seconds, you found yourself sitting down in a chair, with hair and makeup stylists preparing you in a hurry.

"done. not surprising for our beautiful y/n, we don’t need much to make you look pretty,” said the hair stylist while looking at your reflection in the mirror. 

you shyly bowed your head and thanked her, which earned you a fond smile and a gentle pat on the head -while making sure not to mess up your hair, of course. as soon as she stepped away, you turned around in your chair to see if heeseung was here, but he was nowhere to be found. where the hell was he?

“y/n, come this way please.” 

a staff member clapped their hands together to get your attention and led you to the photoshoot set on the opposite side of the floor. 

as soon as you walked in, you were left speechless. in such a beautiful space, was an even more beautiful man waiting for you. like a flower among the flowers surrounding him, there heeseung was. his wavy blonde hair suited him perfectly, framing his delicate features with gold highlighting his cheeks and making him shine in a way that could rival the sun. when your eyes met, a smile bloomed on heeseung's face. wow, so beautiful- wait, get it together y/n.

“y/n, you came?”

his voice was also so sweet… you hated it. 

“yes, i’m here.” 

“they styled your hair really prettily,” he gently touched a strand of hair dropping on the side of your forehead, spreading goosebumps all over your exposed arms. his touch was so soft… you hated it. “it looks good on you.” heeseung smiled. that smile was about to ruin you. 

✻

“one last pose. y/n, please come a little bit closer. look into heeseung's eyes, as if you were about to kiss.”

your eyes opened wide in surprise upon hearing that, and you stopped in your motion. it was nothing new for you to be so close, especially when filming a romantic comedy, but somehow it felt different today. heeseung's lips formed that smirk he often had, the same smirk that made your heart flutter, and he touched your cheek to tilt his head so your eyes would meet. time stopped, as if it was only the two of you in the room. at that moment, you heard it, the sound of flowers blooming.

“okay, cut!” the photographer clapped. “everyone, you did well. thank you.”

you brushed heeseung's hand off and shot up. you hurriedly bowed and greeted the staff before running to the waiting room. 

it was hot. too hot. as soon as you bolted in, you grabbed a water bottle and chugged it before taking a deep breath. 

why… why the hell did you feel like you were suffocating whenever heeseung came close? you sat down with your head in your hands, pressing your cold palms on your eyelids.. you couldn't figure out what you were feeling. was it truly hatred?

you hated how heeseung's smile made your heart race. you also hated that heeseung had such pretty lips. you also hated how much you wanted to kiss heeseung. you wanted to believe that you truly hated him because if you hated heeseung, it would make everything so much easier. 

“what are you doing? why did you run away?” 

that damned voice. when you heard it, you weren’t sure you could hold yourself back any longer. 

you replied with your head still in your hands, not courageous enough to look into his eyes. “it was hot. i wanted to get changed quickly.” 

heeseung brought a warm hand to your shoulder. it felt like the contact was burning your skin through the layer of fabric separating you. “you’re still wearing the same shirt, though? do you want me to help you with that?” 

frustration rose within you. you pushed his hand away and stood up, looking at him with a dark gaze, “please, leave.” 

"but i don’t want to." heeseung tilted his head, showing that insufferable smirk once again. 

"heeseung, please leave." you pleaded, your voice sounding much weaker than you wanted it to.  

heeseung took one step closer, and your heart began to race against you will like it always does. it's like you're not master of your own body anymore.

"i said i didn’t want to. tell me. what’s going on?" 

you passed a hand through your hair, gripping a fistful of it and sighed. “i'm saying this because i don’t know what i’m capable of doing right now. so. please. leave.” 

a look of surprise briefly ghosted on his face before taking another step closer. it was getting dangerous. he was way too close, causing you to forget how to breathe again. 

“y/n… no way…,” his smile widened, “don’t tell me you really want to kiss me?” 

you couldn’t hold his intense gaze and looked down at the ground where nothing could draw you in and trap you. “can you please just leave me alone?” you mumbled, although you weren't sure it was what you wanted anymore. 

heeseung brought a hand to your chin and tilted your head up so you would look him in the eyes, knocking the air out of your lungs. “no. i don’t want to leave. i told you, i don’t want to. do whatever you want. i was waiting for you to.” 

your brain short-circuited at those last words. you couldn’t speak another word. was this real? was this a dream? did heeseung really say that? was he acting again? 

“will you just keep staring at me like that? or will you stop holding back and actually do what you've been craving since we first met?” heeseung asked. 

“ugh, will you shut up, lee heeseung?” 

you grabbed heeseung's shirt and pulled him in until your lips met before he could utter another word. finally, you really kissed him. it was even better than when filming the drama, because you didn't need to think about when to stop, when to close your eyes, or how to make it look good for the camera. without a care in the world, you kissed him because you wanted to. 

as heeseung's hand made it's way to your waist, you heard it once again… the sound of flowers blooming. 

[lionar0und]

Dada! - Leona fic

Leona has some conflicted feelings about his baby This is mostly my late night rambling

Warnings - Fem reader Kinda, mostly leona and cub centered, Small doses of traumatized Leona

Special thanks to @queen-shiba for all her help. Thanks Bestie!

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

Leona loves his sleep. It's a known fact that he almost loves sleep more than he loves his wife.

Almost. He certainly loves her enough for-

"Dada!"

There she is. Leona has...conflicted feelings about being a father. His wife wanted a cub, so they had a cub. He wanted to continue his legacy anyway...but Seven, he's struggling.

It was fine at first - mildly unnerving, but fine. You were struggling, and he hated it. But you wanted Melody so badly. He can't ignore the adrenaline rush he felt when he first felt his cub kicking; or the jolts of joy whenever he held you, arms around you and holding your belly.

But now that she's here?

She's beautiful. She's everything he never thought he could love that he would live for. He'd die for her to but dying is just sleep to him...and sleep is easy. It's numb and comfortable. But living? Waking from bliss to feed his tiny mewling cub as she wails, face red and tiny fists shaking is hard. Giving up some of his late nights out, facing the embarrassment of her sobbing at royal functions; all those judging eyes watching?

Yeah. That's rough.

Really rough.

Today's rough too - He only just got back from another Spelldrive practice, and now that hes a pro, his energy has to be up to play!

But duty calls.

"DADA!"

"Oi, don't shout at baba," He grumbles weakly, "It's late, nugget."

"I want hair." She huffs. For a second his heart stirs. She has your eyes.

"You have hair. See? It's right here." He tapped her head...and it started again. The instant panic because what if his nails are too sharp? What if he hurt her?

He represses the urge to throw up when remembering the feeling of his own parent's claws raking over his eye.

"No dada. Your hair. Pretty!"

"My hair? Baby, what-" He is cut off by a sharp tug on his hair.

Oh.

"You want locs?" It's more of a surprised gruff squeak than anything else. "You want your hair to look like mine?"

"Yes!" She squeals excitedly, hopping on the bed with him. "Hair like yours!"

Shit. Shit, he doesn't do his own hair! He's a prince, he has a stylist-

"Dada?"

Damn it...look at that sweet face. Funny, he didn't realize Melody had his grumpy face.

"Alright, come here grumpy cat." He quickly grabbed his phone. "Kifaji? Yeah...bring me all that hair stuff my stylist uses and my tablet stand."

===========================================

As Leona works diligently, he silently notes to raise his stylists salary.

Melody is squirmy after a while...but luckily his baby girl is just as nerdy as him. Nothing a chess tournament on TV can't fix. Besides, hes a good multitasker! He watches the how-to video on his Ipad while carefully doing his precious cub's hair and violently judging the shitty chess plays.

How many more clips does he need? This kid has a lot more hair than he thought...

"Almost done?"

"Almost baby." He grumbles, trying to pick up the clip he dropped.

Sevens, his hands are sore! Twisting Melody's hair lovingly yet firmly, he feels that familiar bubble of annoyance. Why can't the royal stylist just do this instead?

Stop it, Leona. He thinks bitterly. Be the dad you wanted. Suck up being tired! You overblotted and still played spelldrive after! This is for your cub!

But it's been over an hour. And he is so, so tired. And he has practice tomorrow.

And his baby girl wants to be just like him.

He tries to ignore the weird feeling in his throat he gets when those doubts creep in again.

Come on man. Just a bit longer.

====================================

Almost two hours later, he's done. He's oddly proud of himself. And his reward?

He gets to go deaf!

Melody is squealing in glee now, running around with her tiny mirror.

"I look just like dada!" The tired dad hears her screaming down the hall. It's making him feel oddly smug, too. He actually did it.

Finally, he can reap his rewards. Snuggled tightly into his bed and using your maternity pillow he stole , he can finally sleep.

"DADA I WANNA PLAY DOLLS!"

...but for his baby girl, maybe sleep can wait until tomorrow.

[therealcocoshady]

Love Game

Author’s Note : shoutout to @shady-577 for texting me the idea for this 👀. Y’all think I’m the Angst queen ? You haven’t met this amazing human being 😂.

TW : ANGST

Marshall raised an eyebrow when he walked in Denaun’s place and noticed shopping bags everywhere. He knew his friends liked clothing but the quantity was over the top. The whole living room was filled with tons of new clothes, with items from various designers’ most recent collections.

- New wardrobe ? He asked.

- Yeah, I figured I could use an update, his friend shrugged. Apparently, I should try wearing things that are more fitted.

- Who said that ? He chuckled. Did you hire a stylist too ?

- I’m just trying to keep up, man, Denaun said evasively. Not everyone wears the same sweatpants and Lions apparel, you know. Maybe it wouldn’t kill you to make an effort either…

- I’m fine, thanks, he chortled. Seriously, though, what’s that for ?

He started looking at the items his friend had bought and noticed it wasn’t only clothes. He spotted bags from various stores, containing expensive candles and even skincare. That’s the it hit him : there was a lady. And like the asshole he very much was, he was not about to lose an opportunity to make fun of his best friend.

- I know your fifties are just around the corner but… skincare ? He asked with a smirk.

- I need to moisturize, Denaun replied. My skin’s a little dry.

- And the candles ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. Just admit it ! You’re seeing someone !

His friend gave him an annoyed look and sighed, not denying anything. It made sense. As refined as Denaun could be, he was not the type to invest in $90 candles that smelled like peonies. His friend had not really been in luck with the ladies, in the past years, and he was happy he finally found someone. He was a great guy and he deserved some happiness.

- What’s her name ? He asked.

- Shut up, Denaun replied in embarrassment.

- She hot ? He asked with a smirk. Slutty ?

- Man, don’t talk about her like that ! His friend snapped.

- I was just asking, he said in his own defense.

Damn. If he was getting defensive, it must mean he really liked that girl. Whoever she was, he just hoped she was worth it. Denaun was a sweet guy but he had a knack for only attracting the wrong girls, the ones who ended up playing him. He also knew he was to blame, in a way : he couldn’t count the times when women dates his friends in hope to get closer to him. He had always tried to make his friends benefit from his status but, when it came to the ladies, it wasn’t too easy and a lot of them were only interested because of the money or the fact that they could meet Eminem, without really caring about the guys they were dating. Before he could say anything more, they heard the doorbell and, minutes later, you were walking in, carrying bags of freshly baked cupcakes, both sweet and salty.

- Hi boys, you said before giving both of them a peck on the cheek. Where are the others ?

- Running late, Denaun said. Let me help you with that.

He grabbed the bags of cupcakes and went to put them in the kitchen, while you babbled to him about the flavors. You were so cute, thinking about everyone and what they liked. You had memorized everyone’s favorites so that you could make them. You had walked into their life a couple of months ago and the whole group agreed that you were the sweetest thing on earth. With your fluttery eyelashes and warm smile, you managed to turn these Detroit rappers into gentlemen and, whether it was Bizarre, Swift, Kuniva, Denaun or Marshall, they were at your beck and call. You had them wrapped around your finger, especially when you wore your flowy sundresses. Marshall was partial to your white one. The last time he had seen it, it was in a ball, on the floor of your bedroom, while he was fucking you senseless. Ironically, it was the night you wore this innocent little number that he had discovered what a freak you could be, happy that he had finally given in on the attraction. Your chemistry was off the charts and, looking back, he was surprised either of you had waited that long before sealing the deal. He kept on looking at you while you were talking to Denaun, remembering the view he had when he fucked you from behind and you were begging him to go harder. The memory almost gave him a boner and he wondered if you wearing the white dress was intentional, debating whether or not it should happen again. On the one hand, the sex had been so great only a fool would turn down the opportunity for more but, on the other, he didn’t want to make things complicated. The two of you were friends and you fit right within the group. If he slept with you again, you might get the wrong idea, catch feelings, and it would ruin the whole thing. The others wouldn’t forgive him either : they were all protective of you and they loved having you around, enjoying your sarcastic comments, terrific cooking skills and encouragements. He didn’t want to hurt you. Even though you weren’t nearly as innocent as the others imagined you were, you were a sweet little thing.

- I need to go and put these away, Denaun said as he gestured to the bags.

- You went shopping ? You asked.

- I think he’s got someone to impress, Marshall couldn’t help but grin.

- You mentioned something about fits and neutral colors, Denaun said as he royally ignored Marshall.

- Glad to know you take my advice, you giggled. Wait… is that the Dyptique candle I mentioned ?

- Figured it wouldn’t hurt to try a new smell for the house, he shrugged nervously. You were right. Peonies is a nice scent.

You giggled and pecked him on the cheek, happy to notice he was taking your advice. Marshall quietly stared as you brushed Denaun’s shoulder, mentioning something about his biceps being bigger. You being all touchy-feely wasn’t surprising, you were like that with everyone, but his friend was looking all flustered. That’s when he realized what should have been obvious : you were the girl Denaun was doing all of this for. Of all people in the group, the two of them were the guys you were closest with but he had never interpreted your friendship with Denaun to be more than that. He wasn’t too sure of how he felt about it, though. Did you hook up with him too ? Did he mistake some slutty behavior for some off the charts chemistry ? He frowned and kept to himself the whole afternoon, even when the others joined. He didn’t talk and, instead, paid attention to your every move. You were the flirty type, for sure. Always had been. But it was painfully obvious that Denaun was under your spell, making sure to make room for you on the couch, fluffing the pillow on your side, making sure you always had a glass in your hand. The worst part was that you didn’t even seem to realize it. How could you though ? You were used to all of them giving you the princess treatment all the time. It was like some magic power you had : whenever you walked into a room, you managed to turn gangsters into southern gentlemen. You did it gracefully, effortlessly, pecking their cheek, giving them nicknames and batting your eyelashes. Even himself was guilty of giving you a special treatment, falling victim to your « Hi handsome », spoken in your sultry voice that could draw anyone in. He was always soft with you. Everyone was. They were all whipped. You had often joked about not needing a boyfriend or husband because your rapper friends kept you happy, but now that it was obvious that Denaun had feelings, it was sad. The worst part about it is that he was protective, urging the others to put some respect on your name whenever they made some joke. His friend was a great guy, who obviously only had the best intentions, unlike himself whose actions towards you were more so driven by lust and desire. When everyone went home, he decided to confront Denaun.

- So… Y/N, huh ? He asked as he scratched his throat.

- Is it that obvious ? Denaun asked with a worried look on his face.

- I don’t know, he shrugged. Have you guys fucked around ?

- No, no, his friend assured him. She’s not like that. She’s a lady.

If only he knew the lady he was mentioning had been on her knees, weeks ago, begging for him to choke her. It was almost painful, at this point. If he had known of his friend’s feelings, he never would have given in on the attraction.

- Does she know ? He questioned. That you like her ?

- No, his friend sighed. I wanted to ask her out but… when she mentioned she wasn’t looking for anyone, I didn’t dare. Plus, I wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship.

- You really care, huh ?

- Man, I don’t want to sound corny or whatever but… I think I’m in love with her, his hype man confessed.

- In love ?! With Y/N ?! He almost gasped.

- Man, have you seen her ? Denaun asked. She’s so beautiful. And so nice to us. And for once, there’s a woman who sees us, praises us as emcees. She’s always hyping me up, I can talk to her about my own projects. Finally, there’s a woman who doesn’t only sees me as your hype man. No offense, bro. Love the job but… you know. Most of the time, you’re Eminem and we’re chopped liver. Y/N, she’s not like that. She treats us all the same.

He hummed and looked away, hoping he would be able to have a neutral expression. The last thing he needed was to crush his friend’s heart and tell him that, though you did treat them all the same most of the time, he had painted your walls white, weeks ago, and made you cry tears of pleasure, abusing each and every one of your walls, doing some nasty shit to you.

- I’ll tell her, eventually, he shrugged.

- About your feelings, you mean ? He asked.

- Yeah. I want to treat her right, give her what she deserves, his friend said with a smile. I’ve never met a girl like her. She’s special.

- That, she is, he agreed.

Marshall liked you. He liked you a lot. You always brightened his day, laughing at his stupid jokes, keeping him fed and down to earth, with your cooking and humor. You also kept him humble. There was nothing not to like about you, lovely person that you were and, in hindsight, it wasn’t surprising that Denaun had fallen for you. And his friend was right : you did deserve the world, as well as a man who was willing to give it to you. Only he knew he couldn’t be that man. He didn’t want to, either. As great as you were, dating wasn’t in the cards and he knew it. He would have gladly enjoyed you as a friend with benefits but he couldn’t do that to Denaun. Not when his feelings were so sweet, so noble.

That night, for the first time, he didn’t reply right away when you texted him and he even found some lame excuse not to see you, when you asked if he wanted to come by your place. There was no way he could keep on fucking you and, with the chemistry the two of you shared, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle himself if he was alone with you. There was something terribly intoxicating about your pheromones and, whenever he was in your presence, he couldn’t see straight, only being able to focus on you, anything you did and said. You tried reaching out to him regularly but ended up giving up. The two of you crossed paths a couple of weeks later, when Denaun invited you to listen to some beats he’d made in his hope studio. When you walked in, everyone greeted you with a hug, as usual, except for Marshall, who was rather cold. You were extremely hurt that he would give you the cold shoulder, this behavior being so unlike him. So far, he had always been extremely warm towards you but now, you could feel him take a step back and it broke your heart. He ignored you for most of the day, even though you regularly glanced at him. He was acting normal with the others and you were the only one he was different with. When he went to the kitchen to grab a drink in the fridge, you followed him.

- Marshall ? You asked nervously.

- Mmmh ? He asked without so much as looking at you.

- Ahem… can we talk ?

- I should go back to the others, he replied coldly.

- Marsh, it’s sort of important, you pressed him. Can we go outside ?

- What is it ? He sighed.

- We need to talk about… you know… us, you babbled. I mean, what happened…

- There’s no us, he said immediately. Nothing happened.

- Are you serious ? You asked in disbelief.

- Just because I fucked you doesn’t mean there’s anything between us, Y/N, he said coldly. You don’t mean anything, alright ?!

You bit your lip, visibly flushed with embarrassment and overcome with sadness. Marshall stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Your face was crumbling but his was steady, unmoved. His gaze was cold, devoid of emotion. You scoffed and mumbled an « ok then » before turning and meeting Denaun’s gaze. He looked visibly hurt.

- I was coming to get you guys but, obviously, you have your own stuff, he said in a sad voice.

- Shit, bro, it-its not-, Marshall began.

- I don’t want to talk to you, man, Denaun replied.

You were about to say something, at least try and mumble an apology but, before you could get any word out of your mouth, you started feeling dizzy and nauseous. You ran to the nearest bathroom, tears in your eyes, holding your nonexistent stomach. So much for telling Marshall you wet pregnant, you guessed.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 5

Hello everyone!

This is the new chapter of the Mockingjay series, I hope you like it too. Enjoy it, it’s the last one before the games begin.

Feel free to tell me what you think!

Enjoy ♥

This morning, Ona felt lighter than ever when she woke up. She didn’t need time to remember why, her kisses with Lucy came into her mind very quickly.

She still has a soft smile on her face when she joins her team for breakfast. As usual the table is a mess of toast, jam, waffles, churros, bacon, eggs, fruits, juice, cheese and meat.

Ona sits next to Alexia and chooses the same breakfast as her, churros with chocolate and some mango. The blonde looks at her with a puzzled gaze but doesn’t ask anything. If Ona wasn’t completely in her little bubble, she probably would have appreciated it.

“Ready for training?” Leila asks.

“Uh… Yeah” Ona nods before starting to eat.

She misses the silent exchange between Leila and Alexia, lost in her thoughts once again. It’s starting to alert Alexia, who waits for everyone to have left the room before taking Ona aside.

“Are you alright?” Alexia asks, looking at Ona with attention.

“Yeah, why?”

The blonde looks at Ona for several seconds more, before opening her mouth again. Her hesitation seems strange for Ona, Alexia never had been scared about telling what she’s thinking. No matter if it’s something good or something bad.

“Did… Someone gave you something?”

“What do you mean?” Ona frowns.

“Like drugs, Ona.”

Alexia rolls her eyes at the younger’s obviousness. And she rolls her eyes once again when she sees Ona’s shocked face.

“Drugs? Are people doing drugs here?”

“Of course they are” Alexia laughs. “Why do you think the stylist from the 12 dresses them so bad? And the mentor of the 7 hasn't a chronic headache, he’s under influence every single second of the day.”

“Oh.”

Ona doesn’t know what to answer at that. And the fact that her mind is so cheesy right now that the only answer coming is “Lucy is my drug” doesn’t help. She scratches her neck before talking again.

“I’m not on drugs” she finally mumbles.

“I would have guessed” Alexia answers. “So, what is it? You look like you are walking on a cloud in another universe. It looks pretty cool but… Wait.”

Alexia seems to realize something, and Ona almost has the impression that a light bulb will pop above her head.

“Did something happen between you and Lucy?”

Ona doesn’t say anything, but her sudden red cheeks could talk for her. It seems to be enough for an answer to Alexia though, a big smug smile coming across her face. Once again, it looks like the mentor let place to the teasing big sister.

“Let me reformulate: What happened?”

Ona bites her bottom lip, looking at the door to be sure that it’s really closed. She doesn’t mind if someone like Leila might hear her, but there is no way that Tony can hear something about it. It doesn’t concern him; he already digs too much in her life.

“I… Uh… We kind of… kiss?”

“Kind of?” Alexia raises an eyebrow.

“No, I mean… We kissed last night. And we admit how we are attracted to each other” Ona blushes harder under Alexia’s gaze. “I never thought it could be the same for her, I really thought she was just nice.”

Alexia doesn’t have time to add something else, because someone’s knocking at the door and when it’s open, Ona can see that there is Leila but Tony too.

“They need to go, Ale, or they are going to be late.”

“We’re coming” Alexia nods.

The door closes again, and Alexia turns in Ona’s direction again.

“I’m happy for you if it’s what you want. But be careful, okay?”

“I will” Ona smiles softly.

Alexia squeezes her cheek with a smile, before leaving the room, Ona following her. When Alexia goes in front to talk to Leila, Tony comes next to Ona.

“What did she want?”

“Just talking” Ona answers casually, keeping her poker face.

She’s sick of his behavior and the way he always wants to know everything she’s doing. She will need to sneak out after dinner again, he will probably stick to her all night long.

He then starts to talk to Ona again about something else, but Ona gets off very quickly from the conversation. It doesn’t help that Lucy is already here when they enter the room, her eyes falling on Ona at the first second she’s inside the room.

They smile discreetly at each other, before Ona and Tony go to sit at their place, between the Tributes from the 7 and the ones from the 9. Ona always sits between Tony and the girl from the 9, Anna. They are close from age and the small talk they are having every day helped to create a little bond.

Today’s training was harder than the ones they had before, for Ona at least. It was very physical, they worked on their strength, probably Ona’s worst default. She took a nap between the training and the dinner, after having a big, long, hot shower. And to excuse herself and escape from Tony, she pretended that she needed a hot bath.

She’s first today again in the room, sitting behind a cardboard to be hidden from the door, just in case. They have the right to be here, but it would be strange for someone to walk in here and just find her here.

Ona loses track of time, thinking about her family and friends, the Games and the fact that they only have two days left before the Games start. Two nights with Lucy, it’s all she has. The idea of losing her is almost harder than the thought of the Games itself.

Ona jumps when she hears the door open and footsteps coming inside the room.

“Ona?” asks Lucy’s voice.

The younger one stands up to great Lucy, who is smiling, looking relieved to find her here already. Without really thinking about what she’s doing, Ona goes for a hug, hiding her face in Lucy’s neck.

But Lucy doesn’t seem to mind, passing her arms around Ona’s waist to hold her close. Ona feels herself relax in Lucy’s arms, breathing Lucy’s scent, the fear of losing Lucy and what she has with her evaporates a little.

“I missed you today” Lucy whispers. “It was so hard to see you struggling like this and not being able to come to help you.”

“I’m better now” Ona smiles in Lucy’s neck before kissing it and looking at Lucy’s face. “I took a hot shower, it helped to relax my muscles.”

Lucy hums, her eyes looking at Ona’s face with a softness that makes Ona melt. Ona feels shivers when Lucy strokes her face gently with her fingers and she can’t help but close her eyes.

Like this she doesn’t see Lucy leaning it to kiss her, but she smiles under her lips.

“And I missed that too” Lucy smirks.

Ona giggles and lets Lucy take her by her hand to go sit where Ona was previously. Like this they are hidden from the door and able to hide just in case. And if someone locks the door, Alexia knows where she is.

“How was your day after training?” Ona asks.

They are sitting next to each other, Lucy’s arm around Ona’s waist and Ona’s head on Lucy’s shoulder.

“It was okay. I played chess against Declan, then I took a shower, and we ate. What about you?”

“Almost the same as you. Shower, then I took a nap and we had dinner”

“Don’t you have bruises on your back from the training? That fall looked nasty.”

“I haven’t looked at it” Ona shrugs.

“Hasn’t Tony proposed to look at it?” Lucy jokes.

Ona rolls her eyes at that. Lucy teases her sometimes about Tony and his behavior, Ona complained about it several times to Lucy. Ona feels like Lucy doesn’t like the boy very much. It’s true that, unlike Declan who only became friendly when Lucy told her she wasn’t interested, Tony is still sneaking around.

“Let me see?”

Ona hesitates only two seconds before turning her back to Lucy, who softly lifts her shirt. Ona feels shivers running in her body when Lucy passes her finger on her back.

“Sorry. Does it hurt?” Lucy asks when Ona shivers.

“No, it’s okay” Ona mumbles, shaking her head. “I’ll ask Ale to give me some cream or something.”

Lucy hums once again and kisses Ona's back softly, making her shiver once more time. It seems to amuse Lucy who chuckles before you lower Ona’s shirt again. She then takes Ona against her again and like always, small talk about their days and everything comes easily.

Between hugs, kisses and talks, Ona feels more than safe. She even gets half-laying on Lucy at some point, Lucy playing with her hair.

“You seem close to Anna” Lucy states at some point.

“I wouldn’t call that close” Ona shrugs. “We talk when we have to wait for something because we are next to each other. Between her and Tony, I prefer to talk to Anna.”

Lucy just hums once again, but this time Ona raises her head to have a look at Lucy’s face. The dark-haired girl seems lost in her thoughts but still looks at Ona when the girl kisses her jaw softly.

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering”

Ona snuggles closer to Lucy, who seems more than happy to let her do it. Ona hesitates about what to say, because she’s not sure to be reading Lucy’s thoughts correctly. It seems like she’s jealous, but how in the world could Lucy feel insecure about someone else? Especially for her, Ona thinks.

“You… You’re not jealous, are you?” Ona finally asks shyly.

Lucy doesn’t answer anything at first, only looking at Ona, who finds herself blushing. It seems like she was wrong finally, next time she will shout her mouth.

“I’m sorry, it was a stupid assumption. I was j- “

“Ona.”

Ona was starting to ramble, but Lucy cut her quickly. Maybe with time she understands Ona easier.

“Of course I’m jealous. That girl seems nice, she’s kind of pretty. You seem to find her interesting enough to talk to her every day. Of course, I’m jealous” Lucy repeats, much to Ona amazement.

The younger one stays silent for some seconds, blinking while looking at Lucy. The latter chuckles when she sees Ona looking at her like this.

“You’re so cute” Lucy cooes, kissing her cheek.

Ona decides to hide her blush in Lucy’s neck, squeezing herself a little harder against Lucy. She likes the feeling of her body against her like this. Lucy doesn’t seem to mind and doesn’t add anything, letting Ona compose with the fact that Lucy is really jealous for her.

“Who did you call yesterday?” Lucy asks a little after.

“My best friend, AItana” Ona answers, sitting a little less against Lucy. “We grew up together and she’s more like a sister than only a friend to me. My brother and her have been in love for years now. I tried already to make them go on a date or something, but they never admitted their mutual attraction. I didn’t really let her the choice yesterday. I really hope it will work between them. They will be good together”

Lucy nods softly, playing absently with Ona hairs. 

“Talk to me about them. Your family” she asks.

“Well… My parents grew up in the same neighborhood, but my father is a little bit older than my mother. They both are working in one of the companies that make the clothing for the Peacekeepers, but not in the same department. They both manage their proper department. My father isn’t the kind of man to talk a lot about his feelings but in general too. He still can show how much he cares for you with acts. And my mother is very loving and caring. She loves to take care of her loved ones. I think she was the first to understand that I like girls”

Ona frowns softly, remembering the moment where she told all her family about it. She wasn’t really sure about it at first, but when she told them, she already was in love with Jana. She was the reason for Ona to confide to her family.

“And my brother is like my best friend. He was always very protective about me, but he let me make my experiences. He always gave me good advices.”

“They seem to be nice people” Lucy comments.

“They are. They deserve the best.”

Ona lost herself in her thoughts for a moment, before looking at Lucy again. There is a soft frown on Lucy’s face, which Ona erases tenderly with her fingers. 

“What about your family?” she asks. “Who did you call yesterday?”

“Oh. I called my brother. I thought he would give me good advices about the Games.”

She shrugs softly, like it wasn’t something very interesting. But Ona couldn’t agree with that, she wants to know the most from Lucy. 

“You only have a brother?” Ona asks again. 

“No, I have a little sister too. Her name’s Sophie, she’s seven years younger than me. She wasn’t really planned to be honest. My father is one of the best fishermen of the District, the Bronze Family is pretty well-known there. My mother doesn’t work, she was raising us and now she takes care of my brother’s children.”

Ona smiles softly. She always loved children, she was hoping to have some, one day. Even if it would be complicated because of her condition. You don’t have medically assisted procreation in Panem.

“That’s cute” Ona smiles. “How many does he have?”

“Two. A boy and a girl.”

“That’s cute” Ona repeat.  

Lucy just hums, taking Ona’s attention on her. She looks at Lucy before asking her question, the older one looking at the wall in front of them without really looking at it.

“You don’t like children?”

“I do” Lucy sighs softly. “It’s just that I don’t think I would have some with the risk for them to be selected for the Games, you know?”

“I see” Ona says softly.

“Do you want children yourself?”

“Well, it would be hard for me to do that” Ona chuckles. “There is no way I can find a man attractive enough for that.”

It seems to light Lucy’s mind, because the girl is suddenly laughing too, squeezing Ona harder in her arms. The end of the night is shared between talks, laughs and kisses. Sometimes the fact that there are only two (now one) nights with Lucy comes to Ona’s mind sometimes, but she tries her best not to think about it.

“Ona Batlle!”

Ona jumps suddenly and almost let the dumbbell she was working with fall on Tony’s feet. She turns around to face two cameras and the TV host, who is smiling at her with suspicious happiness.

“You know I’m a man who keeps his promises?”

“I never doubted it” Ona smiles, trying to be as good as possible after a gym session.

“When we talked, I promised you to find something belonging to Jana for you to take in the arena” he says, waiting for Ona to nod before continuing. “Well, I succeeded!”

Ona’s eyes went for his hands, forgetting that there are probably all the other tributes watching at them. He opens a lilac box, very slowly, probably to manage the suspense for the audience. Ona wonders briefly if they are live, before having her mind taken away by what she’s seeing.

“Do you recognize it?”

“Yeah” Ona mumbles.

Of course, she recognizes it. It’s a small silver chain with a pendant that Jana was wearing every single day of her life. The presenter is still looking at her with his big bright smile when Ona looks at him again.

“Come on. Take it.”

With trembling fingers, Ona takes the chain with a lot of precautions. She approaches it to her eyes to see the pendant better, before caressing it gently with her thumb. It was Jana’s. It has the same scratch on the right wing of the dove.

“Thank you.”

Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence but it seems to soften the TV host who takes her in her arms for a hug. Ona gives it back, she doesn’t know if it’s really him who found that chain, but she’s very touched.

“She had to take it back for the Games, but you can wear it, if you want.”

Ona hesitates several seconds, looking at the pendant once again. She thinks about it, before answering. She doesn’t want to lose it or to break it.

“Do you think it could be possible to send it to Jana’s family after the Games?” Ona asks shyly.

“I think I can do that” the presenter approves. “But maybe you will be able to give it to them yourself!”

He doesn’t let Ona the time to answer before turning himself to look at the cameras again and finishing the live.

That night, when she meets Lucy again, she’s not the first to come into the room. Lucy’s already here, sitting on a box with her legs swinging mindlessly. She looks at Ona when the younger one enters the room before coming for her for a hug.

Lucy casually passes her arms around Ona’s waist, kissing her cheek softly.

“How are you?” Ona asks, passing both of her hands in Lucy’s hair.

“I’m okay” Lucy mumbles. “What about you?”

“I’m… nervous, I think.”

Lucy nods, her hands still around Ona’s waist. Her green eyes are looking carefully at Ona’s face, something she does from time to time, but right now Ona has the impression that there is something else.

“It’s our last day here” Ona whispers.

“Yeah” Lucy breathes, before taking a deep breath. “About that… I think we need to talk.”

“Okay?”

Lucy bites her bottom lips, a habit she took from Ona. Ona feels her nervousness becoming stronger every second during Lucy’s silence.

“My mentor told us after dinner that he made an alliance with the other career districts. I don’t have the choice to accept, if I don’t, I will be the first one they will try to kill.”

“Oh.”

It’s a hard way to remember the real issues of the Games. Ona leaves Lucy’s arms, going to lean against the wall, in front of Lucy. She wasn’t expecting Lucy to fight next to her, Lucy needs to save her life and there is no way that she has a single chance with her.

“With whom do you have an alliance?” Lucy asks.

“No one”

“You have one with Tony, no?”

Ona laughs softly with bitterness. Tony would probably help her to survive, but she doesn’t want to owe him anything.  

“I don’t think I will stick with him” Ona shrugs.

“So what? You will do your things alone?”

“Yeah.”

Lucy seems strangely angry about this information, which Ona doesn’t really understand. They have never had a single conflict since they started talking and Ona doesn’t like that feeling at all.

“That’s stupid” Lucy says.

“I don’t have the choice. But don’t worry, I have a plan” Ona shrugs.

The plan being to find somewhere high to hide and go looking for something to eat or drink at night. She won’t try to take anything at the beginning of the games, she knows she doesn’t stand any chance.

Lucy bites her bottom lip again, harder than before. Ona feels like Lucy is trying hard not to say something she might regret later.

“If you say so” Lucy finally says.

Ona nods slowly without breaking eye contact with Lucy. Green deep in brown, they keep looking at each other for some time before Lucy sighs.

“It sucks that we met in those circumstances. I’m pretty sure that outside the Games…”

“It would have been perfect” Ona finishes her sentence.

“Maybe in another life?”

“In another life” Ona whispers back.

“Come here.”

Lucy reaches her hand out to Ona, who doesn’t hesitate to take her. Then the older one draws Ona against her again, passing her arms around her waist and kissing her temple.

“Can I?”

Lucy talks again and it draws Ona’s attention, who looks at Lucy with curiosity. The dark-haired woman raised her hand next to Ona’s face.

“Yeah?”

Lucy softly passes her fingers around Ona’s neck, like she’s looking for someone here. Ona doesn’t need any explanation to understand that Lucy is looking for the chain.

“You’re not wearing it”

It’s more a statement than a question, but Ona still nods at it.

“I will wear it for the Games though” Ona shrugs. “I want to be sure that it will come back to Jana’s family after all of this.”

“I understand” Lucy assures her softly.

A new moment of silence passes, during which Lucy takes Ona again against her. Each of their arms passed around the waist of the other, Lucy gently cradles Ona who was still standing.

“Can I ask you something?” Lucy talks again.

“Everything you want”

Lucy smiles softly at the other girl’s answer, searching in her head the best words to use to ask the question that is in her mind.

“If Jana was still here… Do you think that what happened between us will be here too?”

Ona bites her lips thoughtfully. She never asks herself that kind of question and she’s a little bit taken aback by it.

“I don’t know. The thing I know is that Jana is my first love. But you and me… It’s different. I can’t compare the feelings I have for both of you.”

She’s lying a little bit. Because she knows that the feelings she has for Lucy are surely different from the ones she had for Jana. Those feelings are stronger, more passionate and devastating.

“What we have you and me is stronger than everything I felt before. It scares me because we are not in the right place for that. And I know that at least one of us will lose the others. I’m not sure I want to live in a world where you are not here.”

She was trying not to be too sincere at first, but she got carried away. After all, Lucy has the right to know the way she feels. Lucy doesn’t seem to find that alarming anyway, because she’s grabbing Ona’s face to kiss her hard.

“No matter what happens during the Games, know that what we shared here means the world to me. I was sincere and real with you.”

Ona nods again, passing her arms around Lucy’s neck to share a new kiss. She knows their time is counted now; curfew is here soon. After that, everything will change forever.

Chapter After

[imagineinside]

Star-Like Encounters (Hugh Jackman x Fem!Reader) Chapter 3

Previous Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/imagineinside/760895461984976896/star-like-encounters-hugh-jackman-x-femreader?source=share

A/N: Heheheh I had so much fun writing this little Cinderella-esque chapter. I hope you guys have equal amount of fun reading it! :) (Also, as always, I do not know these people nor is this meant to be an accurate representation of them.)

Description: You begin your first semester at a prestigious university with a mix of excitement and chaos. After a frantic start involving a late arrival due to your roommate’s Hollywood-related detour, your day takes an unexpected turn when you meet Hugh Jackman, your roommate’s boss, at a movie studio.

Hugh, intrigued by your expertise in physics, invites you to consult on a film project aiming for scientific accuracy. Balancing your new academic responsibilities with a potential Hollywood cameo, you must navigate your dual interests. As you face your own feelings, you discover that the lines between your professional and personal worlds are more intertwined than you imagined.

Currently Applicable Tags: Sexual themes 18+, Fluff, cocky Hugh Jackman, flirty Hugh Jackman, age gap (55 and late 20s), so much pining, mutual pining, reader under alcoholic influence, grammatical errors, more to come.

The day of the debut event arrived faster than you had anticipated. Hugh had arranged for you to meet with him and his stylists six hours before the event officially began, which you thought was quite an extensive length of time. But then again, you had never gotten ready for an event like this before. 

Hugh had been texting you pictures of various different red and yellow dresses, sent to him originally from his stylist. You think the last time you had worn an evening gown like that was to your high school prom. It had taken a while, but you had all settled on a strapless red gown that would be tailored to your form. What had really caught your attention about the gown was the small trane in the back and the slit up the front left leg. It was simple enough that you wouldn’t draw enough attention but still beautiful enough to match the rest of the attendees.

Hugh had promised to pick you up from your apartment, and as you sat on your couch waiting for the text saying he had arrived butterflies of anxiety flew around your stomach.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Ashley said as she walked into the common room with her lunch in her hand.

“Jee, thanks, Ash,” you snapped back.

Your friend raised her hands in self defense, “I didn’t mean bad by it. You’ll be fine tonight, you don’t need to worry. Hugh’s a good guy.”

“I know that. Just how would you feel if your celebrity crush asked you out to attend the debut of a movie you’ve been eagerly awaiting to arrive in theaters?” Your knees started to nervously bounce now.

“If Jennifer Lawrence asked me out I would make it a night she never forgot. So good that we would run off into the sunset together to live the rest of our lives together,” your friend said dramatically as she scanned the horizon with her hand.

You rolled your eyes, “Sure you would.” Just then your phone vibrated in your hand and a text from Hugh illuminated the screen.

Yup, that was the text saying he was here. You stood from your seat just as a second text came through.

You smiled to yourself at that, at least you weren’t the only person who was nervous about tonight. You thought that he would be accustomed to events like this after so many years in the entertainment business.

Going out to the car, you waved once you spotted Hugh parked on the side of the street. He was waiting outside the front of his car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed over his massive chest. Something about seeing him waiting for you like that made your heart soar.

His eyes lit up once he saw you, a crooked smile forming on his face, “Y/N, it’s great to see you.” If he was truly nervous, he didn’t seem to show it.

You gave him a polite smile, “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”

“It was my pleasure,” He said and opened the door for you to slide into the passenger seat. His raw manliness is even more attractive paired with his manners and the way he seems to prioritize your comfort and presence.

The car was merging onto the road when he asked you next, “So, are you nervous?”

You let out a small laugh, “Me? Nervous about being photographed by hundreds of people? With you? And possibly also meeting some of your castmates? And seeing my photos go up online?” You swallowed and squeaked out a quiet, “Yes.”

Hugh laughed and something about the soft baritone made you feel a little better, “You’ll do great. You get to play the part of my sexy arm candy for the night… help to distract them from this old mug.”

You know he mainly meant it as a joke, but you were reeling with which to respond to first: his compliment (which like oh my god, did he just call you sexy?) or the fact that he views himself as anything short of the hottest man on Earth. “I don’t think anyone will pay me any mind, Hugh,” you said with a raised brow and a teasing smile thrown his way. “A fifty-five year old Wolverine never looked so good.” Were you flirting? Maybe just a little…

You weren’t sure if it was the change of lighting as you drove under a tunnel, but you thought you saw a slight blush creep up to his cheeks. “I’m glad you think so. I was slightly nervous at the start of the movie production being able to pay tribute to my old character.”

“Hugh, even if you weren’t still super hot and muscular, I don’t think there could be anyone else to play Wolverine.”

“You think I’m hot, huh?” He asked with a playful smile as he turned down an alleyway to the venue parking lot.

Despite feeling your own blush creep up on you, you decided to try to play it off, “I’m pretty sure every girl in the whole of the world finds you hot. I am far from the only one.”

You let him breathe a moment as he reversed the car into the parking spot, his hand coming up to the back of your headrest–and holy crap his bicep was right there. You barely resisted the urge to bite it.

“Maybe so,” Hugh finally replied as he gathered his belongings and paused for a moment to look you in the eye, “But right now you’re the only one that matters.”

* * *

The two of you were separated into different rooms when you arrived. Apparently it wasn’t going to take as long to get Hugh ready as you, so he was going to be working on other things. His stylist was a sweet, older woman who had years in this field. You gave her full liberty on your hair and makeup, she knew much better than you what would be appropriate.

“My daughter looks so much like you,” she had said sweetly while working on your makeup. “Of course, she never lets me do her makeup like this.”

Brenda, you found her name was, had given you a more subtle look. Nothing too flashy. More a sultry, smokey eye look with a matte red lipstick to match your dress.

“I do prefer to keep my hair up,” you had told her. You found it just bothered you if it hung in front of your face.

“We can work with that,” she said with a small giggle.

She ended up deciding on the very ageless french twist hairstyle, but without the necessary claw clip in the back. About midway through you had lost count of the amount of bobby pins she was hiding in your hair. Finally you were able to change into your dress, and with a couple finishing touches, such as earrings, a necklace and a bracelet, Brenda said you were “red carpet ready!”

It felt like you were living a real-life Cinderella fairytale. 

For one night only.

“Hugh is just through that door,” Brenda said with a knowing smile and a wink.

“Oh, Brenda, there’s nothing going on–”

She cut you off, “I’ve lived enough years on this Earth to know when there is a deeper connection, even if the other people try to deny it.”

Clutching the black handbag she had given you, you turned away from her and opened the door.

You didn’t look up right away, not sure what to do with yourself. You had never gotten this dressed up in your life. Pantsuits were more your style for work, not… this. Not that you didn’t completely enjoy it, though.

A breathless “wow” caught your attention and your eyes snapped up.

Hugh was standing across the room, seemingly in the process of applying his cufflinks. Though something had frozen him in place. 

No, not something… someone. You. 

His chest was moving quickly with his breaths, as if the wind had gotten knocked out of him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you as he took you in, as if his hands were there instead, trailing every curve and flowing line.

Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you gave him a quick spin, “What do you think?”

The next thing you knew, he was moving to you from across the room, cufflinks disregarded on a nearby table. Every step he took echoed through you until he came to rest before you. His hands hovered midair between the two of you, as if he wanted to reach out to you but came to his senses. 

You wanted to tell him to “Do it.” The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them.

Then his hands were on your waist and tugging you closer. You didn’t even realize you had begun to shake until you raised your hand to rest on his chest.

“You look absolutely stunning, Y/N,” the words left his mouth like a whispered prayer.

His hands seemed to move on their own as one trailed further south over the curve of your ass, and the other came up to your chin and tilted your face to meet his. You didn’t tell him to stop.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you whispered to him as you shared the same air. You could feel the puff of his breath across your lips–

A knock at the door had the both of you jumping away. It was like you had just been caught making out at your parents house for the first time.

“Oh, Huuuugh,” a sing-songy voice called from the other side of the door. You could recognize it anywhere, you had seen the Deadpool movies. “I’m comin’ in so you better not be naked.” And just like that the door swung open for Ryan Reynolds to enter the room. 

His eyes did one quick scan before stopping on you, and you weren’t sure why, but you held your breath. “And who is this lovely woman?” He said with a grin and began to approach you, “I’m Ryan, and who might you be?”

“I’m Y/N, the astrophysics Professor helping Hugh with his next film.” You said and shook Ryan’s hand.

“Well he did not say you were such a smokeshow, dear goodness. Don’t tell Blake I said that, she’d kill me,” you couldn’t help but laugh at that, knowing it was all just a joke. “Listen, they need us out there in like 20 minutos, can ya do that?”

20 minutes… your heart felt like it was in your throat. That little episode with Hugh had really distracted you from your nerves, but not anymore.

“Yeah, we’ll be right behind you, just give us a minute?” Hugh asked and gestured for him to leave the room.

“Ah ah ah, no not before a picture of you two, c’mon now,” Ryan said and practically shoved Hugh back towards you.

Something told you that Ryan wouldn’t give up quietly and Hugh gave you an apathetic look. You gave him a small smile and mouthed “it’s okay.” The next thing you knew, Hugh’s giant hand was back around your waist and you were posing for a picture. Once Ryan was apparently satisfied he put his phone down and began walking out of the room.

“You two look great! Trust me, you’ll thank me for the picture later.” With a click of the door, he was gone as fast as he had arrived.

A heavy silence fell over the small dressing room once Ryan had made his exit. You weren’t entirely sure where to pick up after what you had gotten interrupted from. Were you guys seriously about to kiss? For some reason you have a hard time believing Hugh would want to kiss you of all people. He could have literally anyone he wanted.

Distantly, you heard Hugh ask you a question. Something about a photo, maybe? You were so in your own thoughts that you just mumbled a “yeah” and didn’t give it much thought.

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” Hugh asked, his hand appearing on your shoulder.

You blinked yourself out of whatever trance you had put yourself in, “Uh, yeah, sorry.” You paused for a moment, perhaps this would be the best time to be honest with Hugh. “Listen, I don’t know if I can do this…”

“What do you mean?” concern etched itself between Hugh’s eyebrows.

“I’m going to probably be asked questions I don’t know the answer to out there. I don’t know the first thing about posing in front of a camera. I am not star material, I spent nearly my entire graduate years inside my dorm room. I kid you not, I was so pale I scared my roommate ‘cause she thought I was a ghost one night.”

Your last comment made Hugh burst out laughing, the worry on his face disappearing almost immediately. You smacked him, not hard, with your black clutch purse. “Stop it!” You exclaimed, now beginning to fight your own laughter, “I’m actually nervous here!”

“Sorry,” he giggled, hand coming up to block his mouth as if that would stop his laughter, “I can just picture it so well–”

“Ah, jee, thanks. That makes me feel wonderful.”

Hugh wiped tears from his eyes and turned to look at you sincerely, “You are wonderful. But if you don’t want to go out there, then you can just skip the red carpet and go straight to the theater.”

You blinked up at him, “You promise?”

“I will pinky promise if you would like.”

You thought for a moment, “Yes, that would make me feel better.”

Hugh let out another laugh, “You don’t stop surprising me.” He linked your pinkies together and squeezed tightly, “I pinky promise you.”

Then, with a tenacity that surprised you after his hesitation earlier, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you towards him until your chests were flush together. “Though it would be their loss not getting to see how absolutely amazing you look tonight.”

The air was beginning to feel heavy again as tension crackled between the two of you. You weren’t sure you would stop yourself if it came to another moment like before, and it didn’t seem that Ryan was going to come swooping back in. So, to save yourself from any future embarrassment, you playfully shoved Hugh away, his grip on your waist releasing, and you said, “You better get finished up there. Don’t want to be the one to make us late now would you?”

Hugh then finished putting together his suit, which was an all black ensemble but with a red handkerchief to presumably match your dress.

“How do I look?” he asked and gave a quick spin, mocking what you had done earlier.

“Very dashing,” you said and threw the magazine you had been flipping through to the side.

Before you could push yourself to a stand, Hugh was there with his hand outstretched in front of you. You smiled shyly at him before placing your hand in his and allowing him to pull you up next to him. “As I said, you can still leave the carpet if it gets overwhelming for you.”

As the two of you approached the door, your left hand rested on his bicep as he held you close up next to him. It was definitely worth standing so close, his bicep felt like a rock beneath your hand. “Thank you, Hugh.”

He gave you the most genuine smile you think you have ever seen before he leaned down and placed a quick kiss to the top of your head. And just like that, you were walking out for your very first red carpet event.

* * *

Walking out onto the carpet for the first time was even more overwhelming than you thought it would be. The immediate flashing of cameras had you recoiling and gripping onto Hugh’s arm even tighter. His other hand came up to rest on yours as another form of reassurance. Then he leaned down until his lips brushed on the crest of your ear to whisper, “Show them how beautiful you are.”

Lifting your head back up you squinted your eyes into the flashing of the cameras and gave Hugh’s arm a thankful squeeze. There was so much talking and photographers yelling around you that you weren’t entirely sure where to go or what to do, so you followed Hugh’s lead.

It was slightly mesmerizing to watch Hugh be in his element on the carpet. The way he moved into poses with you almost automatically helped you feel more confident, and you would pause every few paces to let photographers get their desired pictures. Later down the carpet, Hugh got pulled into a few interviews with Ryan, but that gave you a chance to talk to Blake Lively for the first time. You had absolutely loved her “Lady Liberty” look a couple years ago at the Met Gala. The two of you had actually exchanged phone numbers in the hopes of staying in contact.

“You doing alright?” Hugh asked when he and Ryan walked back over to you and Blake. His hand slid across your waist and stayed there, notched around your back, as if it was his favorite place to be.

You smiled up at him, “Yeah, I’m actually really enjoying this.” You settled a hand on his chest and looked at him in his soft, brown eyes. “Hugh, thank you for this experience.”

He smiled back at you, the crows feet forming in the corner of his eyes, “I’m not sure if this night was more for you or for me.”

You were about to ask him what he meant when Ryan exclaimed you guys should go get your seats in the showroom before everyone else got there first. You had agreed it was a good idea, and the two of you followed after Hugh’s costar.

The four of you got seats all in a row, with–of course–Ryan and Hugh sitting next to each other. You couldn’t believe that you were really going to get to see the movie with the two starring actors sitting right beside you. You would have to be careful to keep your fangirling to a minimum.

Watching the movie felt like a spiritual experience, or maybe that was just because the waiters kept coming by and handing you more champagne which you were definitely getting tipsy off of. Either way, it was amazing. It was everything you had ever wanted all wrapped up into one two hour length film. The comic accurate Wolverine had you bursting out laughing and asking Hugh how they had made him so tiny. Getting to see all the old mutants from the X-Men was also such a great experience. The Honda Odyssey fight scene would go down in your mind as one of the best choreographed fight scenes of all time. And don’t even get you started on comic-accurate Blade, Elektra, and Gambit. Plus X-23 coming back had you crying tears of joy on the inside.

Now you were watching the final scenes of the movie when Deadpool goes down to stop the machine from destroying his world. You didn’t even try to stop the tears from falling down your face at the noble sacrifice.

Hugh must have heard your quiet sniffles as you tried to hide your embarrassing emotions over fictional characters you had grown so attached to. “Hey,” he whispered, “it’s gonna be alright.” His hand fell to your thigh and his thumb began rubbing soothing patterns against your skin.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice watery from crying, “It’s just so beautiful. I wish I wasn’t ruining my makeup right now though.”

Hugh let out a low chuckle, “You still look beautiful to me.”

When you looked back up to the screen, it felt like your world was coming to a standstill. Right there, with Like a Prayer by Madonna playing in the background, was a very ripped, glazed Hawaiian roll looking Hugh Jackman all over the big screen. You didn’t even realize your jaw had dropped open until you heard laughter from beside you as Hugh took in your reaction. Deadpool’s reaction in the movie was also totally warranted.

“I don’t know if I’m turned on or still sad that now Wolverine and Deadpool are both going to die,” you whispered to Hugh beside you who gave your thigh a playful squeeze.

You watched the remaining moments of the movie at the edge of your seat, wishing that it would never end.

“Wow,” you said as the lights turned back on and people began filing out of the showroom. “That was…That was better than sex.”

“Amen,” Ryan replied as he helped Blake put her jacket back on. “Catch you later, Hugh.” You waved Ryan and Blake goodbye as they left the theater.

“I think that was the most jacked Wolverine has ever been in any movie.”

Hugh laughed and flashed his bright smile at you, “I definitely didn’t get that fit without a whole team to help me do it.”

You gave him a soft smile in return, “You did great in the movie, Hugh. I think that will go down as one of the best MCU movies, like, ever. I don’t think that was the worst Wolverine, I think he was the best one.”

Hugh tilted his head at you, “What makes you say that?”

“Because he had so many demons following him. He lost everyone. Yet he still found a new purpose to do better. You can’t be the worst version of yourself if you do that.”

“You look for the good in everyone don’t you?” He said with a smile as he stood from his chair and extended a hand to help you up. Ever the gentleman.

When you went to stand, your feet wobbled beneath you and fell forward like a damsel in distress. Strong arms held you upwards and you heard a laugh rumble up from Hugh’s chest. “Sorry,” you mumbled and righted yourself, “I think I had one-too-many glasses of champagne. Just hopefully I don’t throw up,” as soon as the words left your mouth you cringed at yourself outwardly. 

“Sorry, that was gross. Very not ladylike. And you are always such a gentleman. It’s like you were born to open doors for me and help me up from a chair. Sorry, I’m drunk. Don’t hold anything I’m saying against me tomorrow.” You mumbled into your hand as you realized you were rambling on. Jeez, that must have been some strong champagne.

“Maybe I should take you home?” Hugh offered as he held one arm around you and the other in your left hand, helping to steady you down the steps towards the exit.

“No, God, I’m sorry. I’m really making a fool of myself–”

“That’s not it.” Hugh cut you off, “I just want to make sure you get comfortable tonight and do whatever you need.”

“You’re so nice,” You said and looked up to his heartbreakingly handsome face, tears forming at the edges of your eyes, “I’m an emotional drunk, you can’t be that nice or I’m gonna cry.” Hugh laughed at that, at least he was able to find you humorous in this state. “Ashley also texted me and told me she was having a girl over tonight… I don’t want to walk in on her again.” You shivered, “We barely got past it the last time.”

Hugh seemed to cringe at whatever mental image he had pictured as well, “Alright, then where were you planning on going tonight?”

“I asked our friend Janet but she didn’t respond. Oh no!” You exclaimed, “I’m going to be homeless!”

Hugh laughed and guided you outside towards the back parking lot where his car was surely still waiting for the both of you. “You’re not going to be homeless. If you need to, you can spend the night at my apartment.”

“Nonononono,” you hurried to say, the words slurring together, “I can’t stay at your apartment. I cannot see where the magic happens.”

“Where the mag–What are you saying, goofball?” Hugh laughed again as he opened the door for you and you did not slide into the seat gracefully, as much as you tried.

“You’re so hot. There’s no way I can spend the night at your place. I want to too much.”

Hugh began driving out of the parking lot and the motion of the vehicle made your head spin even more. “Why not just try to get a little shut eye, it’s a thirty minute drive to get there from here.”

* * *

You didn’t even realize you had passed out in Hugh Jackman’s car until you heard the hum of the engine come to a stop and the lights flick out. You had drool sliding down the side of your mouth which you tried to slyly wipe away.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Hugh greeted and reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You reveled in the light graze of his fingers as they floated against your skin. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

The nap had actually helped to sober you up a lot, though you would never admit that he was right, of course. You were able to walk up to his apartment without any assistance in not falling over, though Hugh still stayed behind you in case you lost your balance. Once you got inside, your jaw felt like it fell to the floor. This one apartment was probably four times the size of the one you shared with Ashley, and it even had a staircase up to a second floor. So there wasn’t just one floor for one apartment? This was an entirely new concept to you.

And there was an entire wall of windows. You basically dashed over to them as you looked out to the sea just West of you and the city lights scattering the Southern coastline.

“Wow,” you breathed, your breath fogging up the glass.

“I know,” Hugh said from behind you, “once I saw the view I knew I had to have this place.” He reached forward and placed a gentle hand on your lower back. “Why don’t you go wash up in the master bath, I’ll get some clothes laid out for you.”

You blushed and mumbled a thank you before following Hugh up the stairs. The master bedroom alone was the size of your apartment, though you didn’t want to say anything. You’re sure Hugh isn’t the type to rub his financial status in other people’s faces, and therefore he probably doesn’t like people making comments on it either.

“Use whatever you need,” Hugh said with a smile as you worked on taking your heels off on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you blushed, embarrassment flooding over you. “I’m really sorry about getting so drunk, Hugh. I don’t want you to think that’s normal for me.”

Hugh waved you away and came to sit next to you, the bed dipping from his weight as he sat down, “Tonight was about you enjoying the experience and the movie, which you did. I’m glad that you were there with me.”

“Did I say anything too unhinged? My memory is a bit fuzzy right before I passed out.”

Hugh appeared to give it some thought, “No, just that you think I’m hot.” He said with a mischievous smile.

You rolled your eyes as a smile grew on your own face, “Well I thought that was already obvious.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, duh, I’ve only had a massive crush on you since The Greatest Showman,” the second the words left your mouth you realized what you had said. 

The smile dropped from your face almost immediately as you grabbed a nearby blanket and threw it over your head to pretend you could simply disappear. You guessed that while you didn’t feel drunk anymore, your filter was still working on coming back. 

“Y/N,” Hugh called and tugged at the blanket but you fought to keep it in place.

“No, I’m never coming out of here.”

“Sweetheart, let me see your face,” something about the way he said it made you allow him to peel the blanket off of you. You weren’t ready to look at him again, though it felt like his eyes were looking straight through you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“For what, sweetheart?” Hugh asked as his hand lifted your chin until you had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“For ruining whatever friendship we had the possibility of creating.”

“Baby,” he purred, his voice like silk, “this was never going to be only a friendship.” Then his lips were on yours.

The kiss wasn’t frantic or steamy like you thought it would be. It was soft, and gentle, like he was just testing the water to see if either of you would get burned. You opened up to him, becoming pliant under his strong hand that was still on your cheek. A deep moan echoed up from his throat to urge you on, the sound making you squeeze your thighs together as you gripped around nothing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hugh whispered, sounding absolutely breathless as he broke the kiss, only to come back for more.

You opened up for him when his tongue requested entrance and it was like neither of you could get enough. Sharing the same breath wasn’t enough anymore, you needed to be closer. You pushed against his chest, to which you received very little resistance before he laid back on the bed, all spread out for you. Something about seeing him flushed and breathing heavily because of you really messed with your head.

Before you had a chance to overthink it, you swung your leg over him and settled over his abdomen. Your hips grinded down on their own accord, though it rewarded you with a satisfying groan from the man at your mercy beneath you. You would do that all night if it meant you got to hear him make those noises.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Hugh gasped and his hands shot out to your hips with a grip you were sure would leave bruises in the morning.

“I think I do,” you whispered, “because you do it to me, too.”

Both of you moved at the same time, lips crashing together. You didn’t even mind that your teeth knocked together as he ravaged you. His left hand came up to grip at the back of your head, holding you right where he wanted you. You felt him rut up against you in search of friction, and God you wanted it so badly too, but–

“Hugh,” you pulled away, breathless and lips red from kissing, “I think we’re getting carried away.” He stayed beneath you, chest heaving, as if he was still trying to process your words. “I don’t… I think we should talk once I don’t have any alcohol left in me.”

Hugh nodded, his mouth parted as if he was still contemplating whether to kiss you again or not. “Alright, sweetheart, I’ll let you get washed up. I’ll get you some water and a Liquid IV as well.”

“Thank you,” you said and placed a small kiss on his lips before sliding off of him as a reminder it wasn’t over.

You hadn’t realized the extent to which you had affected him until you looked back to see a tent in his dress slacks as he sat up. You quickly averted your gaze and strutted into the washroom.

Once you were done, just as promised, Hugh had left (what you would assume) was one of his shirts laid out on the bed, as well as water and a Liquid IV on the nightstand. Alongside it was a folded note that read: I’m sleeping in the guest bed, I don’t think I would be able to control myself with you tonight. Sleep as long as you need, I’ll have breakfast ready in the morning. ♥️

You went to bed that night with a surge of hope in your chest.

Bonus, Hugh’s Instagram Post:

Taglist: @corvusmorte, @chinchie, @reinabxitch, @shortnloud, @nizem8, @rexmeshlasblog (if you aren't on this last but want to be let me know!)

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Quick Maintenance

Time Written - 11:42 p.m

(Idk where I was going with this, so it isn’t proofread.)

—

Your heavy eyes blinked, slipping in an out of mental focus from the soft snip snip near your right side. Minor tufts of wet hair trickled down your shoulder, sliding along your freshly washed graphic shirt.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to keep a level field as focused eyes squinted to study his work.

Calloused hands held thin, little shears he pulled out from the bathroom drawer, snipping away at little uneven pieces of hair he left unchecked.

Work, school, the sheer stress of wondering what kind of person you were in this world would get to you. You weren’t always like this, priding yourself on not caring what the world thought, meanwhile beaming like a ray of sunshine to all those who knew you once you stepped out the door.

One of the toughest enemies you could ever face in your lifetime, who knows every gruesome detail of your agony, every weak bone in your body, holding each detail of your flawed skin to memory, was the teary eyed person that stared back at you in the mirror.

Some days you barely had the strength to get out of bed, brush your hair, or get some water.

If you didn’t have a bodyguard of a worrisome, golden retriever boyfriend leading you towards the bathroom for a haircut, bedrotting would’ve remained a much easier task.

Dick didn’t force you to cut your hair, the idea came to you before you took a shower. Maybe a minor change was needed, something new within your control to make you feel a little better. You came to him after your long, hot shower with said offer, the man slouched on the couch with brow raised.

“Can you help me cut my hair?” You asked, presenting him with some old scissors you fished out from under the sink.

What an offer to receive on such a late evening. Dick never felt happier to see you out of bed, hair wet and changed into a pair of fresh clothes. All anxiety for you melted off his shoulders, sparing his thumbnails from being chewed on a second longer.

“Of course,” he rises from the couch, said old scissors now in his hand. Now, he sat you ontop of the toilet, gently tilting your head side to side with care to make sure every cut was as clean and even as possible.

A favor for a favor, he thought. You helped him cut his hair when it looked way too outgrown to your liking, way past ‘sexy mullet,’ in obvious words. Nowadays, keeping his hair at jawline was both for preference and convenience, though maintenance would’ve been a pain if not for you.

You offered to cut it for him the first few times, he always questioned why. Gotham cuts hair starting at at least twenty five dollars, which he could obviously afford, but having your pretty fingers run through his locks? He’s trusted no one else since.

“Twenty five bucks is twenty five bucks.”

“Twenty five bucks could be spent on dinner for your stylist,” you’d muse, cute brows bowed in deep concentration on getting the length just right. Your prized perfectionist skills left him feeling in good hands.

“I’m proud of you, y’know,” he says to you, voice lowered to a concentrated level that soothed your ears. Any accomplishment you do on one of your bad days was a gold star in Dick’s book.

His support of soft, comforting words of praise acted like a chamomile balm on a soothing ache. Your mind eventually would be soothed, lulling you into a state of affection he provided so well, sometimes reducing you to tears.

“Though, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t use my body wash.” He mumbles, now using some smaller, much thinner scissors to catch the tiny wisps he missed, taking after your perfectionist tendencies.

A trickle of a smile lasted a few seconds on your lips. “Today didn’t feel like a ‘sea salt and cedar’ day, Richie.”

“Guess that’s fair, least you’re wearing my shirt,” his cheeky grin was contagious, your heart warming at the joy that erupted in his eyes in witness to your gorgeous smile.

“There. All done, beautiful.” Dick concludes, brushing remnants of hair off your shoulder before his thumb stroked along your cheekbone, planting a kiss on your forehead.

A short two step to the bathroom sink left you staring at yourself in the mirror once more, your desired length now becoming reality.

In all honesty, you didn’t exactly like the length of the haircut. Picturing it differently in your mind had you assuming more grand expectations on the outcome.

It wasn’t all new, but it was different, a good different. A good, new you, one you’d appreciate and cherish, because that’s what you always deserved.

Besides, Dick Grayson, your puppy eyed golden retriever would make sure you were satisfied with the outcome. How could you say you didn’t like it to such a handsome face? Impossible.

“How’s takeout sound?” He questioned, watching your hands busy themselves by brushing through your new hair, feeling visibly softer along your fingertips.

“I’m thinking … something spicy.” He slips an arm over your front accompanying a soft squeeze, gifting you a smile through the mirror’s reflection. “It feels like a spicy day, yeah?”

“Anything Sounds delicious,” you admitted, your body recognizing and remembering what hunger felt like after hours of feeling numb under soft blankets and pungent silence.

“Gotcha, I’ll call up a place.” Dick steps to the side, allowing you room before reaching for the sink drawer.

“Where’d you get these scissors, anyway? They’re so tiny.”

“Oh,” you quickly recall the memory, an event quite a long while ago while on an essentials stop at a local corner side pharmacy.

“Accidentally forgot to pay for them,” you hesitantly admit, recalling the particular day. Maybe you’d forgotten to pay for an eyebrow kit that came with an adorably small pair of gold trimming scissors.

“My girlfriend, the thief,” Dick repeats with feigned surprise, shaking his head in mocked disbelief.

“Ima have to report you for this,” he smirks, glancing at you out the corner of his eye. “How much were these, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Like, seven bucks?”

“Huh,” Dick clicks his tongue before plopping said scissors back into their designated drawer, promptly sliding it shut.

“Seven bucks is seven bucks.”

[moonblastbitch]

Yellow card update

Hi ya'll! So I barely use tumblr nowadays, but considering some stuff going on I thought it would be good to do a quick little come back.

So hi! I'm Kit, I write the griddlehark fic Yellow Card with my friend Starr. It's a very silly fanfiction about age difference Harrow and Gideon having an affair and raising a child together. It's pretty well known in TLT fan spaces which I'm super grateful for! It's not an understatement to call this little fic my pride and joy. I've spent the last two years working on it as my little labor of love and it's kinda grown a cult of followers! Really, it's a fun excuse for me and my friend to work on something we care about together. But lately I haven't felt inclined to work on it and I want to talk about why.

Over the last several months I've had some health stuff going on that's resulted in needing two surgeries. Along with that, I moved into a new place and my gf and I are managing some new financial stress. Plus, you know, the general state of democracy in decay all around the world. It doesn't leave me a lot of time or energy to write silly smut fic. Everyone has been very supportive of me taking the time I need to recover and I'm really grateful.

But... this is where I have to address some not great stuff. Today my friend approached me with a fanfiction making fun of my writing. And several posts from someone making fun of the tropes I use in the writing. Now, I want to make this abundantly clear. Absolutely no one is required to like my writing style or fics. I don't write for praise or wealth, just for my own personal happiness. I think everyone is within their right to complain to their friends if they dislike something they read. What I really can't tolerate however is this intense hostility toward myself or my fellow writers. Nor do I appreciate having an entire fic written mocking me or my stylistic choices.

Back when I first joined the TLT fandom in 2020 it was teeny tiny. Now it's a lot less so. It's been so satisfying to see everyone grow and change over the years, and I think I've grown a lot as a writer. Sadly though, I've seen a lot of stupid bullshit. I've seen personal friends of mine targeted in harassment campaigns because they ship the wrong ship. I've been added to public bookmarks complaining about my writing, I've been subtweeted, I've been made fun of. And I think I'm done.

I write for my own pleasure. I write to bond with my friends. I am not writing for homophobic assholes who use my work to mock me, nor make me or my co-writer the target of harassment. So, as a result, Yellow Card and all my other TLT fics are on an immidate hiatus, with the exception of one upcoming commission for the TLT for Palestine charity.

I spent a long time tonight debating if I should even write this post. It seems like by writing this I'd be giving the people making fun of me more ammo. But honestly? I don't care. My feelings are hurt. I am upset. I shouldn't have to hide that because some bullies will take bits of this statement to use in their next bitchy text post.

I want to reiterate something important. I am open to critque on my work. Anyone who has an issue with my writing style is more than welcome to come into my comments and let me know if something isn't flowing right, if there are unfortunate implications of a line I may not have considered, if there is something they personally find a bit distasteful. Sadly, the people doing this skipped right to mockery and ridicule, and that is unacceptable.

What drew me to this fandom in the first place was Muir's openness to her background in fanworks. She clearly takes such pride knowing her book series has spawned into a wild, happy fandom writing crack silliness and serious character study alike. Because that is what fandom is for. Having fun in a big beautiful sandbox, creating art with friends. And I treasure that deeply, even as I am forced to walk away from a space I love.

TLDR: TLT fandom is full of dicks. And not the kind I write about.

Thank you to everyone whose offered me kindness and support over the years! I truly appreciate you all. If you wanna stay in contact, it's easiest to find me over on twitter @moonblastbitch or discord (same name)

[ilguna]

☼ cruel summer pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick tricked you into playing the damsel role, something the Capitol will be referencing for the rest of your life. still, you're not sure if you can forgive him for being so cruel to you in the first place.

warnings; swearing, ehh gore, someone loses an eyeball, weapon use, death.

wc; 2.2k

part one

--

If you make it out of this arena alive, you might consider taking back all the nasty things you called Finnick that night on the balcony. In the heat of the moment, you confessed the feelings that you’ve had for him for a while, and in return, he told you that this had been his plan all along—to push you to your breaking point.

Every ounce of composure you had left was gone at that moment. All the emotions that you’d bottled for the last year shattered. You were upset, because this vulnerable moment had yet again, been turned into a joke for Finnick’s amusement. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

When you finally stopped screaming at him, which was right around the time the escort and Mags had come to check to make sure that everything was okay, he tried to explain his reasoning. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say, so you left to go to your room, which brought the conversation inside.

“You need to listen to me, (Y/n).” Finnick had told you, grabbing your arm to slow you down. “I know you’re mad—”

“Mad?” You repeated, your ladylike appearance was fading, not being able to hold it for the escort. Who was standing in the living room beside the stylists and Mags, watching the argument unfold. “Mad doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface, Finnick! This is one big joke to you! I’m going to die, and it’s going to be your fault!”

You made a beeline for your room, trying to lock the door behind you, but they won’t shut if there’s something in the way. It was Finnick, and he had himself firmly planted there, refusing to move.

“You know I would never get you killed.” He tried to tell you.

You scoffed, “Do I, Finnick? I wouldn’t have put it past you.”

“You can’t place all the blame on me, you’re supposed to be the smart one. I was waiting for you to figure out I was messing with you the entire time but you trusted my judgement. I hope you won’t be this naive in the Games.”

“Get out of my room.” 

“I wanted you to look like a ditz, to give you a better chance at winning.”

“You’ve got a really backwards way of thinking.”

“It’s worked for me in the past, so I figured that it’d help you, too.” His patience was unwavering. “I wanted the Capitol and the tributes to overlook you, and they are. It’s a blessing. You’re going to be invisible in the arena—it worked out for me, so it’ll work for you.”

You stared at him, still angry, gripping the white trim of the doorway. “And you didn’t think to let me in on this?”

“You would’ve slipped. It’s hard to genuinely act clueless.” He shakes his head. “I had to do it, (Y/n), or else the Capitol would’ve had their eye on you the whole time. This was the only way.”

“I have no skills.” You seethed through your teeth.

“That’s not true. You know how to use a spear and hunt for food. You just need to put that together, and you’ll be able to keep yourself alive. You don’t even have to kill unless you absolutely have to.” He raised his eyebrows. “Like I said, you’re smart, (Y/n). You’ve got this.”

“Is this why you stopped being friends with me? Back home?” 

Finnick shook his head. “I stopped being around you after my Games because I felt like we couldn’t connect anymore. I was somewhere else and you didn’t understand.”

“So you told all my secrets? You let them start rumors about me?”

He looked at the ground, quiet. “I never should have told them those things.”

“It’s too late to feel sorry for yourself.” You told him. “Or fix any of this. You better hope that you’re right about this strategy, or my blood will be on your hands.”

Finnick nodded, backing out of the door, satisfied that he’d gotten the chance to properly speak to you. “Goodnight.”

You punched the button on the wall. 

If Finnick’s plan doesn’t work out, it won’t matter, because you’ll be dead anyway. Still, you’ll spend every last breath cursing his name and actions, for getting you in this position.

As much as you hate to say it, you have to admit that his plan has worked without a single hiccup. He was right, down to the very last word. You don’t think that you crossed any of the other tributes’ minds, much less the very much, now-dead Careers.

It was easy, too easy to survive this far. There were several times you were sure that you’d get caught sneaking in and out of the Cornucopia for supplies. Or when you’d accidentally pass by an active camp, where you were merely just a few feet away from the deadliest tributes in the arena.

You never got caught though, you flew under the radar, and it’s brought you here.

The male tribute from District Eight stands a few feet away from you, knife in his hand. You can’t seem to remember his name, but you know that he’s older than you, on the cusp of being free of the Hunger Games forever. You won’t be able to place your finger on his age exactly, but if you had to guess, it’d be eighteen.

He’s panting heavily, a result of chasing you for two miles through palm trees and sand. You would’ve brought him through the river, too, if the Gamemakers hadn’t dried it up yesterday. Now all it acts as is a barren trench. He’d tried to corner you into going inside, but you knew better. If you’d fallen in, you would’ve died down there.

You didn’t survive this entire time just to be killed from doing something stupid.

“Come here, little girl.” He breathes, voice deep. He takes the first step toward you, your legs twitch, wanting to run. You don’t move. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

You tilt your head at him. 

In the past two and a half weeks you’ve been in here, you don’t think you’ve said a single word. A point you’ve been trying to make since you made a fool of yourself on stage with Caesar Flickerman. Which has been a little difficult to keep up, because you have a habit of working out your problems aloud. 

Your lips are sealed, as far as you’re concerned. And they’ll stay that way, until you’re announced as the victor. 

He’s making his way at you at a steady pace. The closer he gets, the more you’re able to see the deranged look in his eye. It makes you worry, but your focus lies with the knife that he’s white-knuckling. Your idea of getting it out of his hand somehow is becoming a bad one. 

You really have no choice. The Cornucopia is miles away. The only weapon you had is gone, thrown into the trench. What you have now is your backpack, which has close to nothing inside of it. Just the sleeping bag you stole, a half-empty bottle of water, and a coiled wire.

“Surprised you lasted this long.” He mutters, “What did you score, again? A three?”

Four. Which might have been done out of irony, because that’s where you’re from. Or pity, because the Gamemakers saw that you were making an effort to learn. With Finnick’s initial instructions to fail everything you touched, you had a hard time figuring out the right way to do things.

You weren’t allowed to succeed.

“What’s the matter?” He teases.

He’s gotten close enough to lunge at you, swiping with the knife. He cuts you across your upper left arm, leaving a stinging trail behind. In turn, you swing your fist at his jaw, an ache forms in your knuckles, pain blossoming under the skin.

You’ve never had to punch anyone before.

In the brief time you have, you try to seize the knife from his hand, but he’s already thought of that, lifting it up, out of your reach. As he prepares to stab downward, you wiggle out of the backpack, bringing it in front of you to act as a shield.

Sure enough, it pierces through the cloth, he draws it out. You lower the bag, backing up, shaking your head at him. You’re not going to be able to fight, and it’s not because you don’t want to, it’s because you’re not capable. You can punch and kick him all you want, but he’s going to bounce back.

You need a weapon, so you rip the backpack open, pulling out the bottle of water that's beginning to leak from being stabbed. You throw it at him, watching as he dodges it, breathing out a laugh. It wasn’t your goal to hit him, just slow him down another step.

Your hand dives back in, rooting around for the wire, which lays at the very bottom, practically untouched since you discovered it. Right as you go to pull it out, he swings at you again. You’re barely able to lift the bag in time, listening to it tear from the sharp blade.

Without thinking it through entirely, you retaliate, aiming for his legs. The wire slices into skin, he jumps away from you. One look at the damage you’ve caused, and you forget about defending yourself with the backpack. You have a ranged weapon. 

For once, you take a step forward, pursuing him. Each time he slashes, you dodge and attack. He doesn’t miss every time, sometimes catching your shirt or your skin. Either way, the advantage changes.

You hurl the backpack at him, still hanging onto a strap, watching as his focus turns to catching it before it knocks into him. With the other hand, you bring down the wire, coming into contact with his face. He lets out a hiss, right as you whip it forward again.

His sudden scream startles you, making you jump. You watch as he drops the knife in his hand, forgetting about it. His hands are trembling when he reaches to touch his face, his left eye, where blood is gushing out like a waterfall.

You don’t stare for long, jerking forward, falling into the grass to grab the knife before he realizes his mistake. His eye is squeezed shut, letting out pained sobs. You get back to your feet, arm drawing back, before you hammer the knife into his chest, right over where his heart is. 

His eye and mouth pop open at the same time, hands falling from his face to his chest, where he’s just able to secure his fingers around the knife. Then, his eyes roll back, taking his body with him.

A cannon blasts.

You shuffle forward a step, looking down at him, and then up at the sky. 

That’s it, right? That’s all you had to do? There’s no one left in the arena?

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Sixty-sixth Hunger Games, District Four’s very own (Y/n) (L/n)!” Claudius Templesmith’s voice booms over the clearing, answering your questions.

You laugh, backing away from the gruesome scene you caused. “How’s that for a score of four?”

—

The familiar voices down the hallway grow louder with each step you take. They placed you in the room as far away as possible, to make you work to see your people again. In any other instance, you’re sure you’d be on some degree of irritation, but you’re so relieved to be here, and alive that it doesn’t seem right to be mad.

You survived the Hunger Games, there’s nothing in Panem that can touch you now. 

Your eyes are searching for them before you’ve even rounded the corner. Your stylist, your escort and Finnick are standing together, talking quietly. 

“Finnick.” His name leaves your mouth in a gasp, causing him to turn. Your feet move without permission, body gravitating to him. Finnick gives you a look—the look he used to give you back home when he thought you were being dramatic.

He throws his arms open at the last second, your body coming into hard contact with his, making him stumble back. He’s got you securely, though. Your arms lock around his back, squeezing him tightly. You can feel his cheek press against your ear.

“Welcome back.” He says.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment, because you’ve missed being his friend. If there’s one good thing that will come of this, it’ll be getting him back. But it won’t happen before he shows you that he’s sorry.

When you pull away from the hug, his eyes flicker to yours, watching you. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But it’s a start, isn’t it?”

You suck in your lips for a moment, nodding. “We’ll figure it out when we get home. For now, I just want to get out of here.” You tell him, before turning to the escort and the stylist, who are both smiling at you. You take in a breath, trying to reciprocate, “So, what’s next?”

[junhui-png]

Starring: love ˙✧˖📷 ⋆｡ ˚ PT. 2

actor!jeonghan x fem!reader

—————

—————

Summary: You always had trouble finding love, but that never bothered you as you like to be independent. You had opened a cafe on Main Street all by yourself and things were going great without a boyfriend so you simply thought “Who needs a boyfriend anyways?”? But that changed once you had met the man of everyone’s dreams, Yoon Jeonghan.

Notes: hope y'all enjoy part 2 and also for such a late post I honestly just got really lazy and never felt like writing so my apologizes. I'll update this series once a week! (mainly on Thursdays)

Warnings: Cursing, Reader is an academic weapon, Nicknames (Doll, princess, gorgeous), please LMK if there's more!

wc: 1.6K

—————

The weeks went by faster than you had realized. Jeonghan still stopped by your cafe between his breaks and he's supposedly grown a liking towards you, at least that's what Sohee says. As the closing time of your cafe neared, you heard the bell from the entrance ring, and with no surprise, it was Yoon Jeonghan walking through the door. His outfit was quite different than the ones the stylists would normally put him in. He was wearing a white button-down, which where tucked into his pair of black dress pants and a black tie to bring the outfit all together. "What can I get you" Jeonghan looked up at the menu as if he hadn't already memorized all of it because of how frequently he visited "Just 2 iced americano". "Two?" you thought to yourself but you just nodded and got to work on the man's drinks. "Hey, Jeonghan?" Your voice so quiet you could barely hear it, but Jeonghan had heard you "Yes?" Jeonghan got up from where he had previously been seated and walked towards the pick-up section "You don't really like iced Americano's, right?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. Jeonghan lets out a sigh and begins to look around the cafe, as if he were avoiding your eyes "Yeah, just felt like a change today" He shrugs, finally bringing his eyes to meet you but you immediately look away. You didn't dare ask the second question that you had. "Who was the second one for?". "Alright, here you go" You bring yourself back from your thoughts and place Jeonghan's drinks on the table. You give Jeonghan a quick smile before turning your back towards him and beginning to clean up and get ready for closing "Hey Y/N?" Jeonghan's angelic voice sends chills down your spine. You turn around to face Jeonghan who has one of the iced americanos in his hand and the other still on the table "Go on a date with me." silence. "Are you joking?" Is what came out of your mouth, though you didn't intend it to. "Did you want it to be?" Jeonghan says in a teasing manner, slightly raising his right eyebrow. Silence engulfs the two of you as you're at a loss of words. Did you want it to be a joke?. "No.." you finally get out and Jeonghan seems quite satisfied with your response because a devious smirk appears on his lips. "Ok then, Tomorrow at 6 ?" you can only nod in response as you feared that if you were to open your mouth you would fuck everything up. Jeonghan chuckles a bit realizing you had completely shut down "Wear something nice, ok?" Jeonghan pushes one of the iced americanos towards you before taking his and walking out, leaving you completely stunned. You aren't left in the dark for long as you get a text from Sohee.

"What took you so long, I was about to leave you here." Sohee nags once you finally finished cleaning and locked up for the day "Sorry, some last minute stuff" You shrug but Sohee always knows when something's up "I saw Jeonghan leave the cafe just now~" Sohee giggles, grabbing a hold of you arm. You already knew where this was going "What's up with you too" Sohee drags you from side to side as if he were trying to shake something out of you "Did he ask you out?" You didn't even get to respond when Sohee gasped loudly, shaking you vigorously. "I FUCKING KNEW IT, I LITERALLY TOLD YOU HE WANTED YOU!" Sohee jumps up and down, still holding onto your arm. "I didn't even say anything!" You try and defend yourself but Sohee shuts you down almost immediately "You suck at hiding your facial expressions" Sohee giggles, which you roll your eyes at in response "Fuck you." You scoff, finally pulling yourself away from the boy.

The next day had arrived and you were beyond nervous. You decided to wear a black tube top dress that stopped just above your knees, a black shoulder bag, a simple silver necklace with a singular diamond pendant at the center, and a pair of black heels. You finish your makeup and rush out your apartment door, making your way towards your cafe. As you approach your cafe, you see a black BMW parked right in front of the cafe. The closer you got, the tenser you became but the second you saw Jeonghan, all of it disappeared. "Hello beautiful," He says teasingly but he truly meant it. You looked absolutely stunning to him and he simply wanted to just stare at you for hours on end. "Hi," You lower your head sheepishly, your face getting hot. Jeonghan opens his car door, taking your hand as he helps you enter his car. You somehow completely forgot that this man was a celebrity, an extremely rich and famous one at that. Jeonghan begins to drive and there is silence between the two of you, not awkward silence but more comfortable silence, or at least that's what Jeonghan thought. You, on the other hand, was a whole other story. Now that it's kinda dawned on you that you're going on a date with a celebrity, you start to second-guess basically your entire existence, well that's what it felt like. You felt underdressed compared to Jeonghan, who was wearing a silk-like white shirt tucked into a pair of black dress pants with his pretty black hair pulled up in a half up half down type hairstyle (what he wore to that Saint Laurent event). Though the outfit was quite simple, the way it looked on Jeonghan made it look exquisite and expensive, which it probably was. "You look stressed," Jeonghan says breaking the silence "Do I?" You finally look up from your lap and at Jeonghan whose eyes are on the road "Yeah, don't be though" You scoff at his response and only then does he take his eyes off the road to look at you "I'm going out with a fucking celebrity, what do you mean 'don't be'" You say in a sarcastic tone and Jeonghan smirks at your snarky response "Tonight, Don't think of me as a celebrity, just think of me as Jeonghan, just another human on this planet" You liked the thought of that. Just Jeonghan. "Welp, we're here" Jeonghan gets out of the car and opens the car door for you before handing his car keys to the valet attendant and walking you into a fancy Italian restaurant. You're both seated at a table in the corner and are given menus before the two of you are finally left alone. "So.." Jeonghan begins "When'd you open your cafe?" He asks "Back when I was about 19?" You shrug, Jeonghans eyebrows shoot up in surprise "Dam you were young then" Jeonghan remarks, leaning back in his seat. "What about school and shit?" he asks. "Honestly," you respond "I was pretty smart in high school and throughout college, so It wasn't something I was worried about, I managed." Jeonghan lets out a playful sigh "Wish I had that struggle" he quips, a slight smirk on his face. "Oh come on, you couldn't have been that dumb" You reassure him "Nah I was, the lowest of my class actually" He chuckles "Was too caught up with training and friends and stuff to really care about studying and my grades, you know" with a hint of sarcasm you respond "Actually not really" teasing him a bit and the man seems to enjoy it as he lets out a laugh.

The two of you order your food and continue to chat, even after finishing your food, the two of you sit for an extra hour simply just talking. "We should probably leave" You suggest and Jeonghan nods, getting up from his seat and you follow. "Thanks for tonight Jeonghan," You say once you enter the car "I really enjoyed myself" You beamed "Don't mention it doll, I enjoyed myself as well" The nickname caught you off guard and very visibly too because Jeonghan seems to smirk taking a look at your flustered expression. Once you finally reach the outside of your apartment, Jeonghan helps you out of his car "Wait hold on" Jeonghan stops you from going up the stairs of your apartment complex. He runs towards his car and opens the back door of his car, picking up a grey zip-up hoodie from the back seat and brings it towards you. "Here" he takes both of your hands and places the zip-up hoodie in them "What's this for?" You scoff "It's cold these days," He says "And I just wanted to, thought you would look good in it" His voice is teasing, though you would find it annoying if it was someone else (Sohee) you didn't mind because it was Jeonghan. After a further examination of the hoodie, you realize it wasn't necessarily plain. It had a little blue and red flower on the front side of it with the wording "KENZO PARIS" on it. "Thanks, Jeonghan, I didn't get you anything though" You sulk a bit, wishing you would have known he would have gotten you something "I don't need any gifts from you, you're my gift for tonight," He says, the return of his signature teasing tone is evident "You're too much" You laugh, pushing his shoulder just a bit. "Maybe" He shrugs, a stupid smile on his face. He walks you up to your apartment till you are both at your doorstep "Lemme see your phone" Jeonghan puts his hand in front of you and you immediately hand it to him unlock, all survival instincts being left behind. After a few seconds, Jeonghan hands you back your phone, now with his contact saved "Text me, ok?" He says and you nod "Goodnight princess" He smiles "Night Jeonghan" You smile back before shutting the door behind you, officially ending your first date with Jeonghan.

——————————————————————————————————

[exhaslo]

Hi!! I hope you’re doing well! 💚

I was hoping a for a fluffy one shot of a reader who wants to cut their hair short and is second guessing themself and Miguel’s trying to convince them it’ll be ok bc it’s just hair right? If possible could the reader be gender neutral?

Thanks and have a good day/night!! 💚

Yea of course!!!! I actually just cut my hair short again recently (although the lady messed up and made it too short) but I got you. No worries!

Also, sorry this was so late. I'm trying to catch up on requests!!!

Warning: None, just fluff

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

New Year, New You.

At least, that was what you kept telling yourself for the past month. It had been a tough year and once the new year rolled in, you wanted to express your change. You wanted to give yourself the motivation to change and the way you were going to do that was to cut your hair short!

It had felt like hours since you stared at yourself in the mirror. Honestly, it was a good thing that it was a slow day at work. Your coworkers might kill you otherwise. Not like they could, you had the perfect guardian at work.

Your crush; your mentor; your friend; your tall, handsome coworker, Miguel O'Hara.

You worked at Alchemax as one of the marketing agents. Your job was mainly sitting at a desk and working on how to promote the company in a good light. Miguel was always checking up on you, wanting to help.

"I've passed by about...four times...and you've been engulfed in that mirror," Miguel said as he leaned over your little cubicle.

"Oh," You raised your head, staring at the tall man, "Sorry, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"I want to cut my hair short, but I just..." You sighed heavily, "I can't decide if I should do it or not. I want the motivation to make some changes in my life...but..."

"But it's just hair?" Miguel muttered in confusion. You glanced up at him, huffing your cheeks out,

"But it's my hair. Whatever style I decide, I'll be stuck like that for months."

"What styles have you looked at?" Miguel asked as he pulled a chair beside you, "Cutting your hair that short?"

"Is it bad?"

"No, it's just different," Miguel said as he looked at your computer, "You'll look fine no matter what style you go with."

"Even if I shave it all off?" You asked, leaning back into your seat. Miguel turned you towards him,

"Even if you shave it all off."

Honestly, you had to hold the tears back. Miguel was far too good for you and honestly, one of your goals this year was to ask him out. Hopefully, cutting your hair short will give you the motivation you need to do so.

"Honestly, I wonder how you're still single." You said with a laugh as you scrolled through different hair styles again.

"Who knows."

---------

It was finally the day. You had made the hair stylist appointment and arrived at your set time. Bonus, Miguel decided to join you for this momentous occasion. Something about being there more for your emotional support.

"Alright, how did you want your hair cut today?" The stylist asked while playing with your hair.

"Um, this short?" You asked hesitantly while showing him a picture. Miguel smiled towards you,

"Doing good," He whispered, picking up one of the maganizes.

"Alright, let's get this started. You have such lovely hair, but I can just see you rock this style!"

You couldn't help but smile as your heart raced a mile a minute. You took deep breathes as you watched your stylist start to cut your hair off. It was very nervous racking, but the deed was already starting. Little by little, your hair was being cut off.

"Wow, you look amazing!" Miguel said in awe as he approached from behind. The stylist chuckled, dusting off the little hairs,

"Stunning!"

"Oh my god. It's really gone," You whispered, touching your head, "It's all gone."

"I'll give you two a moment." The stylist said before taking off the cloak.

You were still in disbelief as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth agape as you touched your head. Miguel approached you, leaning over the seat you were in. A grin on his face as he grabbed your attention,

"Does this help with your motivation now?" He asked. You looked at him through the mirror,

"How bad would it be if I said no?"

"Haha, not bad at all. Take things one step at a time. At least you had the courage to do this. I could never." He said with a hum. You chuckled,

"Ah yes, Miguel the man with the fancy hair. Even the gods have blessed your natural looks." You said with a tease, getting up from your seat.

Miguel followed behind you as you went to pay. Before you even got your card out, Miguel took out some cash and paid for you. You tried to complain, but Miguel had already started to drag you out of the hair salon. He held your shoulders,

"It's fine. Why don't get go get some lunch to celebrate?"

---------

This was it. You were going to do it. You had stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror of the restaurant, telling yourself to confess to Miguel. This was your time to shine. You had finally given yourself the courage to ask him!

Stepping out of the bathroom, you nearly gasped as Miguel paid for both his and your lunch. That man was one step ahead of you again, but not this time.

"Miguel, let's go for a quick walk. I want to ask you something." You asked, tugging on his arm slightly. Miguel just smiled towards you,

"Of course."

Feeling your heart in your throat, you walked beside Miguel to the nearby park. This was it. This was your chance. Right as you were about to ask, you nearly held your breathe as Miguel wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"What a nice day," He hummed. You just nodded,

"Yea...Great day for uh walking."

"Just walking?" Miguel chuckled, watching you grow more nervous, "Walking and walking."

"Yep. Walking." Man, was the sweat rolling down your neck, "Walking and asking...scary questions..."

"Like?"

"Like if...you like...walking like this with me?" You whispered, wondering what the hell you were even saying. Miguel raised a brow towards your statement,

"Are you asking if I can keep...walking with you?" He asked, his hand gently grazing your remaining hair, "New haircut give you the courage to ask while walking?"

"Oh my god. You are such a hot idiot. I'm an idiot too. I'm trying to ask you if you want to go out with me!" You whined. Miguel laughed towards you, sitting you down on a nearby bench,

"I wouldn't have gotten so close to you if I wasn't interested." He said with a grin, "So, are you okay with me walking with you and paying for your next haircut?"

"Gosh, I can't-" You just laughed and leaned back in the bench, "Yes. I will be happy to walk with you. But I can pay next time."

Miguel grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it before the two of you kept walking.

Perhaps getting this haircut was the best choice.

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

I hope you enjoyed!! Sorry for it being so short! And sorry again for this being so late!!!

[tennessoui]

51, any verse? !!

hello thank you for sending this, it was an excellent writing warm up!

[prompt from this ask game]

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

so i'm setting this in the kuwsk verse because i was thinking about her the other day and also because if anyone knows how to say 'i love you' in a non-verbal way it's those fuckers who shared a house for years without realizing they were practically married and 100% in love (well, anakin realized the in love bit at least)

i think anakin's most used way of saying i love you is that he starts making obi-wan his lunch and tea to take with him as he goes out the door - he defends this by saying it's really not that much more work to make three sandwiches instead of 2 cause he was already making luke and leia's. yeah he puts just as much love into the sandwich for obi-wan as he does for his kids.b. b ut. but he doesn't want to talk about it.

meanwhile obi-wan is a bit more oblivious but still very dramatic. after the first few years, before they're together but after they've built a family, obi-wan quietly gets the kids' initials tattooed on his arm or chest or something. he also includes anakin's and just. doesn't tell anakin. that he now has a big stylistic 'a' right near his heart.

snippet:

(late may, nine months after the Skywalkers move in)

Anakin feels incredibly silly and far more transparent than he's comfortable with, the first time his hands make Obi-Wan Kenobi a sandwich.

It's nothing, like, actually overt or telling or anything like that. It's just a sandwich. He's made two already today for Luke and Leia, cheese and tomato for Luke, no crusts, ham and cheese and absolutely no tomatoes at all for Leia.

And he'd just gone to the store yesterday too. It had been easy as anything to throw in a packet of sliced deli meat turkey for Obi-Wan. A head of lettuce and a packet of the actual good-tasting cheese he knows Obi-Wan prefers. It was easy.

And it's not as if he's going to cut the sandwich into little hearts and include handwritten notes about how much he loves him in the box. That would be telling. This is just a sandwich.

Still, when he finishes the lunchbox---tucking a small apple and a clementine on top of the sandwich as well as a packet of fruit-flavored gushers he'd included not because he thought they'd be eaten but because he was sure Obi-Wan would find the idea of eating fruit gushers at his age in his very important professor office funny---he has to convince himself to linger in the kitchen.

If he just left it on the counter, he's almost positive that Obi-Wan would accidentally ignore it.

And if he left a bright sticky-note on top of the box, he's sure as well that Obi-Wan would ignore it.

He's not his brightest in the mornings. Anakin doesn't mind.

Fifteen minutes later, at precisely 7:08, the time that Obi-Wan always leaves, Anakin sits up from where he's been slouching against the counter.

A moment later, his housemate barrels through the kitchen, eyes still half-closed and tie askew. It's the lead-up to exams, if Anakin remembers correctly.

It's almost criminally adorable, the way he has to reach out and physically stop Obi-Wan in his tracks just to get the man to look at him. He's in too deep. This is terrible. This is--

"Oh," Obi-Wan says and he blinks at him as if he's surprised to see him. As if Anakin hasn't been up for an hour and a half already and gone upstairs to wake up the twins as well. As if this is not where he normally is around this time of day. "Good morning, Anakin," his housemate says.

"I made you lunch," Anakin blurts out, which is not quite the way he planned this. Though, to be fair, he hadn't. "Here."

He pushes the box into Obi-Wan's chest until the man raises his own hands and takes it from him.

Obi-Wan blinks again. "You made me lunch?"

"A sandwich," Anakin says. "Cause you said the other day you usually just get some crisps from the vending machine. And obviously you need more than that to function, so--"

"So...lunch."

"A sandwich." Anakin stresses, even though he can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. He's fully dressed but he feels sort of naked standing before Obi-Wan and pushing a lunch that was made with love into his hands.

"Oh," Obi-Wan says. "Thank you." He sounds as if Anakin has taken a stop sign and slammed it into his face.

"I was going to make you some tea, too," Anakin adds. Just for something to say. "But then I couldn't remember how you take it and I know you take that very seriously, so I thought it was better if I just stuck to the lunch, you know, I was making sandwiches already for the twins, it was really no bother. Like, at all. I mean. You even eat your crusts, so that was a relief. And don't worry, I didn't use the American cheese that the twins like, obviously, I got some swiss for yours and--"

Obi-Wan hugs him. Anakin shuts up.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan says when he pulls away. His eyebrows are all furrowed but he looks far more awake now. "This is incredibly kind."

"It's just a sandwich," Anakin mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck. It's not, but he's suddenly terrified that Obi-Wan has seen that. Understood it. Fuck.

"I, ah," Obi-Wan starts then stops, clicks his tongue once, softly, then says, "One sugar, just a bit of milk. A splash."

Anakin blinks. He can't fight the smile he wants to give Obi-Wan in payment for this information, and he doesn't think he should have to. Obi-Wan is a man made of walls and secrets and bite-sized bits of information never given completely willingly.

To be given---to be entrusted with--his tea preferences, it's not nothing. Not for Obi-Wan. And so not for Anakin either.

[murdrdocs]

jake seresin is so boyfriend. fem!reader

he plans date nights when he can, any moment he has off turned into some sort of couples festivity. rewatching disney channel original movies through the night with a large pizza and multiple bowls of popcorn. trying out a new restaurant on main street with comically small proportions and subpar seasoning, leaving jake with a sure feeling that he could recreate the meal on a better level. jake actually attempting — and succeeding — to recreate the meal, leading to a lady and the tramp moment that has him hiding a giddy smile beneath a suave smirk.

he’s a protector, of course. an arm wrapped around your waist at the hard deck. immediately taking your side in any argument ever, even when you are technically wrong. making sure you’re taking care of yourself first and foremost, even if it means sacrificing a little time with you for your own moments of solitude. never letting you put yourself down, yet still allowing room for you to voice your insecurities and nitpicks, even if they’re the complete opposite of how he sees you.

he can’t shut up about you, not even if he tried or wanted to. it’s always “my girl” this and “my girl” that, practically anytime someone mentions something that vaguely reminds him of you. phoenix absentmindedly says she needs a haircut? jakes telling her about the new stylist you saw and your glorious trim. someone’s stomach rumbles? jakes pulling his phone out to send a message to ask you what you had for lunch, and inquiring about what you want for dinner. there’s a tiktok blasting from coyotes phone and jake happens to walk by? he’s asking for the link to send to you.

he’s fucking obsessed. and he’s not ashamed of it. he never will be.

he loves domesticity, which is a boyfriend attribute that screams husband late in the evenings or early in the morning when you look at him. shirt off, back flexing as he stands over the stove, working on a new dish he “dreamt up” while he hums to his motown song of the week. he swears he’s cultured, even when he’s just some white boy from texas. but he isn’t bad. he’s getting better at least.

he’s used to raising hell and lettin loose, but he’s found solace in the mundane moments more and more. cooking is a new hobby for him, it’s methodical enough to get his mind off things, but tactical with enough trial and error for him to enjoy the challenge. it’s cute to see his features scrunch in while he focuses, and to see his eyes brighten when you moan around the fork he has between your lips. the way his smile shines from a nervous quiver when he asks, “good?”, and you nod, repeating the phrase with definite sincerity.

jake seresin is just so boyfriend that can easily be so husband.