#i miss you and i hope it's okay to say that

[vunblr]

City Lights and Mountain Hearts

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

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

Summary: Stuck in the city for Valentine’s week, Bucky grapples with old wounds, self-doubt, and the urge to escape. Luckily, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, he is not alone.

Word Count: 10.5k.

note: Part of the Roots and Branches AU

The soft pling of an incoming email pulled her attention away from the cheesy vampire novel she had been working on, pausing her fingers on the keyboard. She furrowed her brows at the notification in the corner of her screen, precisely at the subject line.

URGENT: In-Person Attendance Required – Feb 12–16

Her company rarely required in-person meetings, much less for an entire week. But as her eyes scanned the neatly written email, her heart sank. They were hosting a conference within the city, an important one, and all key personnel were expected to attend and be involved. No exceptions.

“Great,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. Of all the weeks.

She didn’t mind her job -she actually liked it most days- but this? This was just bad timing. Her first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, and instead of spending it in their little town, she’d be stuck in a place she hadn’t missed, surrounded by endless traffic, overpriced coffee, and the constant hum of people who never stopped moving.

She exhaled sharply, leaning back in her chair. Bucky. He wouldn’t say it outright, but she knew how he felt about the city. He barely ever talked about his time there, and when he did, it was with the same tight-lipped, wary expression he wore when someone brought up his past.

He was not going to be thrilled about this.

She had to tell him. The sooner, the better. Then they could figure out what to do, whether they’d spend the week apart or… maybe he could come. By the time the sun had dipped behind the trees, she had made up her mind. She couldn’t change the situation, but she could soften the news.

So, she set the table with two mugs of hot chocolate and cut a generous slice of apple pie for him. Lately, she had been making dinner later and later, caught up in work, but tonight, she wanted to be ready when he walked through the door.

The familiar sound of the lock clicking open made her stomach flip, slightly tightening her fingers around her mug. Bucky stepped inside, shaking off the chill as he pushed the door shut behind him. He slipped his jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair, and then he made his way toward the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of cinnamon and warm apples. He stopped in the doorway, tired blue eyes flicking between the waiting mugs and the careful way she was watching him. He knew that look.

Something was up.

But before he could ask, she gave him a small, hopeful smile and gestured toward the table. “I made pie.”

----

He sat there, munching the pie with his gaze glued to the plate. She knew he was turning it over in his head, weighing every part of the situation the way he always did.

He swallowed, took a sip of hot chocolate, then let out a slow sigh.

"Guess I'll have to go too."

Her brows lifted slightly. "Bucky, you’re not obligated. It’s totally okay if you-"

"I'll drive us there." His tone left no room for argument. "You’re not spendin’ Valentine’s Day alone. I know you’ve been preparin’ somethin’ for that day, even when I told you I didn’t really mind those kinda celebrations."

She watched as he swirled the chocolate with his spoon, his eyes still cast downward like admitting that cost him something.

"Well, um… yeah," she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That was when I thought we'd be here, and-"

"Sweetheart." His voice was softer now, and when he finally looked at her, there was something in his gaze, something that made her heart ache a little. "It’s okay. We’ll go together."

-----

The next morning when she woke up, Bucky was gone.

That was unusual. Saturdays and Sundays were slow mornings, mornings where he lingered in bed longer than he needed to, where she could coax him into staying even when he grumbled about getting up. But today, the space beside her was cold, like he hadn’t been there in hours.

She found the note on the dinner table.

Had some business to take care of. Be back later.

No explanation. No details. Typical.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, but let it go. If Bucky needed space, she’d give it to him. Instead, she made herself breakfast, turned on her laptop, and got to work. The sooner she got ahead of things, the more time they’d have in the city. And she wanted them to have time, time to make it feel like something other than just another obligation.

-----

Bucky was in his spot in the woods, where the air was sharp and clean, where the only sounds were the wind through the trees and his own breathing. Where he didn’t have to think.

February wasn’t the best time for chopping wood, but he didn’t care. He just needed to move, to burn through the thing curling tight in his chest.

It had been over fifteen years since he set foot in the city. He had left with a full cast on his arm and never looked back. He should have gone back, just once, just long enough to get the damn thing removed properly. Instead, he’d let the local doctor handle it and told himself it wasn’t worth the trip. Told himself it didn’t mean anything.

Maybe it had. Maybe it had meant more than he let himself admit.

The axe came down with brutal precision, and the wood split instantly. He barely registered it, his mind still circling the same damn thoughts.

The city. He didn’t belong there.

Too many people, too much noise, too many eyes. He already could feel the way the stares would burn into him, the way his skin would crawl under all that attention. He could handle a few looks here in town, the occasional glance from curious folks, the gossip… but the city? That was different. In the city, people watched.

And the worst part? He knew what they’d see.

Some guy who didn’t fit. A man too rough around the edges, too quiet, too scarred.

The axe came down again, unrelenting.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, exhaling hard. What the fuck was he even supposed to wear there? He barely had anything that would blend in. Just one pair of decent jeans and a couple of henleys that might keep him from looking like an uneducated stud.

Might.

-----

He returned just before lunch, the sharp bite of cold still clinging to his skin, the muscles of his arm aching like a bitch but in a way that felt more comforting than exhausting. Chopping wood had helped -somewhat- but not enough to shake the weight pressing down on him.

Then, he stepped into the house, and the scent hit his nose.

Tenderloin. Creamed potatoes.

His favorite.

His stomach grumbled in approval, and when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, he found her setting the last plate on the table. She glanced up at him with a smile, like she hadn’t just completely read his mind.

“You’re back just in time,” she said, brushing her hands off on a dish towel. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

Bucky huffed, shrugging off his jacket. She knows. Of course, she knew. She always knew.

By the time he sat down, the first bite was enough to make his shoulders loosen. He didn’t say anything, just focused on his plate, on the warmth of the food, on how damn good it tasted.

By the time he finished his third helping, he finally leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. “Darlin’, you’re gonna have to roll me out of here if you keep makin’ stuff like this.”

She huffed a laugh, stacking a couple of plates. “You say that like it’s my fault.”

“It is your fault,” he muttered, lazily twirling his fork. “Cookin’ like this.” He shook his head, tone half-admiring, half-accusatory. “Unfair.”

She chuckled, wiping down the counter before glancing over at him. He looked content, a rare sight when something was eating him. That alone made her move closer, stepping into his personal space.

Bucky barely had time to react before her arms wrapped around him, pressing a warm hug against his side. His chest tensed -not because he didn’t want it, never because he didn’t want it- but because it caught him off guard.

She pulled back slightly, flickering her eyes down, and before he could ask, she reached up and wiped the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

“There was-” she paused, tilting her head. “Potato.”

Bucky stiffened.

His hand came up to his mouth a second too late, rubbing over the spot as a slow warmth crept up his neck.

She just grinned. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He scowled, with the kind of embarrassment that made him shift in his chair and grumble under his breath.

“Not flustered.”

“Uh-huh.”

She kissed his cheek quickly, then stepped away before he could protest further.

Bucky exhaled, rubbing his jaw before dropping his hand with a quiet hmph. He didn’t argue, because what was the point? She was already moving on, making casual conversation as she tidied up.

Then-

“We should probably grab a few things for the trip,” she said lightly, not looking at him as she rinsed a plate. “I was thinking we could head into town tomorrow, and pick out a couple of things.”

Bucky hummed in response, but the food in his stomach suddenly felt heavier.

------

They sat at the kitchen table with a notepad between them, as they jotted down things they’d need for the trip. The list was simple: snacks, water, some groceries.

“I’ll make something for the road,” she said, tapping the pen against the paper. “Something easy to eat while driving. I’ll grab the ingredients tomorrow.”

He nodded, with arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll check the truck. Make sure the tires, oil, and water are good.”

She hummed, writing that down, but then-

“Toilet paper.”

She paused, blinking at him. “What?”

“For the glove compartment,” Bucky said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Her lips twitched. “Why?”

His ears went pink. “What d’you mean why? When you gotta go, you gotta go. Even if it’s the middle of the road.”

She pressed her lips together, trying really hard not to laugh. “I mean, fair point.”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath as she added it to the list, the color still lingering on his cheeks. But then she glanced up, chewing on the end of the pen.

“You’ll need to grab some clothes from your cabin.”

That was when the shift happened.

His body didn’t move, but something in his expression tightened, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features.

She noticed immediately.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.

She reached across the table, touching his arm, waiting until he finally looked at her. “One step at a time, alright?”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Yeah,” he muttered, finally. “Guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

She squeezed his arm before letting go, keeping her voice light. “Actually, while we’re on the subject… do you have enough clothes to bring along?”

He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean… I got stuff. But…” He hesitated. “I probably need some new things.”

She nodded slowly, reading between the lines.

He dreaded shopping. Trying things on, getting questioned by clerks, feeling pressured to buy things he didn’t even like.

“I can go,” she offered. “Pick some things up for you.”

Bucky glanced at her, skeptical. “And if I don’t like ‘em?”

“We return them first thing Monday morning.”

He exhaled, considering. “I don’t want anything fancy.”

“You? Fancy?” She smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He rolled his eyes, and his shoulders eased the tension, just a little.

“…Something blue or black for the top,” he muttered after a pause.

She grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

She could sense the weight still pressing down on him, so she steered the conversation into safer waters. “For the food, I was thinking… have you ever tried empanadas?”

Bucky’s brows lifted slightly. “Yeah, actually. Back in the army. One of the guys- his ma would bring ‘em when she visited. He’d share sometimes.”

Her eyes lit up. “Did you like them?”

He nodded, and a hint of a smile softened his features. “Yeah. They were good.”

“Well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “I was thinking of making a meaty filling. Figured you’d like that.”

His lips twitched, an approving glint in his eyes. “Sounds great.”

She glanced at the clock, noting the time. “Alright, let’s head into town before the shops close. Almost no one opens on Sundays around here.”

Bucky let out a mock groan, pressing a hand to his stomach. “You sure you can get me outta this chair? Ate too much. You’re gonna make me gain weight at this rate.”

She laughed, standing up and stretching. “You’ll look very sexy. And I’ll have more of you to grab.”

That got him. His cheeks flushed a faint red as he ducked his head, suddenly finding the notepad very interesting.

“C’mon, big guy. Let’s go before the town shuts down on us.”

-----

Monday morning, they departed early.

He had insisted on driving, and she let him. Her meeting wasn’t until the afternoon, which meant they had time to get to the Airbnb, settle in, and for her to change before she had to leave. She had suggested a hotel -something nice, something easy- but he had shut down that idea pretty fast.

“Not stayin’ in a damn hotel,” he had muttered.

She knew why. It wasn’t just about avoiding people, it was about having a place that felt less like the city, a place that wasn’t sterile and unfamiliar, a place where he wouldn’t feel watched. An Airbnb was as close to a home as they were going to get in a place that felt otherwise hostile to him.

The trip itself was fine, though Bucky was quieter than ever. She didn’t push, didn’t try to fill the silence, just read her book, occasionally serving him coffee. She figured he needed to settle into his own thoughts and get used to the idea that they were going back to a place he had spent over more than a decade avoiding.

Eventually, she heard it, the low, unmistakable growl of his stomach.

She grinned, closing her book. “Alright, honey. Pull over.”

Bucky grunted. “M’fine.”

“Uh-huh.” She arched a brow. “Pull over. I’ll drive while you eat.”

He gave her a look but didn’t argue, pulling off in the curve. They switched places, and as soon as he grabbed the first empanada, she heard it, the almost joyful sound he made as he took the first bite.

She had eaten earlier, thank God, because somehow, Bucky managed to put away eight in one sitting. And an apple.

As he chewed, thoroughly pleased, she eyed him. “Bucky, are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

He paused mid-bite, squinting at her. “What?”

She grinned. “I mean, the way you’re inhaling those? You’re either growing a small human or preparing for winter hibernation.”

He swallowed, scowling. “They’re good.”

She chuckled, focusing back on the road. “Glad you like ‘em.”

She drove in silence, letting him be.

Bucky had eaten enough to put himself into a food coma, but that wasn’t the only reason he’d drifted off. She knew last night had been restless for him if he had even slept at all. He hadn’t said anything, but she’d felt it in the way he held her a little too long before bed, the way his breathing never fully evened out, the way he had been up before her.

So, when she glanced over and saw him slumped against the window, arms crossed, head tilted slightly, she wasn’t surprised. His chest rose and fell evenly, a few stray crumbs still clinging to his shirt.

She smiled a little and let him sleep.

For a couple of hours, she focused on the road, as the monotone hum of the tires and the quiet murmur of the radio filled the space. But as they got closer to the city, everything changed. The road widened, traffic thickened, and the sky was swallowed by looming buildings.

A sudden blaring horn cut through the quiet.

Bucky jolted awake immediately, sucking in a sharp breath as his hand twitched toward something. His seatbelt, the door, his hip. She wasn’t sure if he was reaching for a weapon or just bracing himself, but for a split second, his eyes were wild, darting around before finally landing on her.

She winced. “Sorry. City drivers.”

He exhaled hard, rubbing a hand down his face. “Should’ve woken me up. I could’ve driven.”

“And be cranky and starving while stuck in traffic?” She shot him a look before glancing back at the GPS. “Yeah, no thanks.”

He muttered something under his breath, but the fight had already left him. Instead, he turned his head toward the window, taking in the skyline, the crowded sidewalks, and the flashing signs. His fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh.

A few more turns, and she finally pulled up in front of their Airbnb. A modest little apartment, nothing flashy, but in a quieter area just ten minutes from where she needed to be.

She shifted into the parking lot and sighed, stretching her fingers. “Alright. Home sweet home.”

Bucky didn’t move at first, just stared up at the building like it might lunge at him.

Then, with a slow exhale, he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for their bags.

-----

They didn’t need a key.

Instead, there was a digital lock with a number combination, which she entered easily after checking the confirmation email. The mechanism beeped, the door clicked open, and Bucky’s stomach twisted.

He didn’t like it.

A code? No actual lock? Who else had access to this thing? The owner, obviously. Maybe the cleaning crew. What if the code hadn’t been changed recently? How hard could it be to override it, to force the door open if someone really wanted to? What if-

Then he felt it.

Her arms wrapped around his waist, her body pressing into his back. A second later, a soft kiss against the space between his shoulder blades.

Bucky exhaled. Slowly.

“I’ll go change and then I’ll leave,” she murmured against his shirt. “Why don’t you take a shower and get comfortable? Or go for a walk if you want.”

He didn’t answer right away, just rested his hand over hers where it rested on his stomach, giving it a small squeeze. Not much, but enough to let her know he’d heard her.

She squeezed back before stepping away, leaving him standing in the doorway as she disappeared inside.

He took another slow breath, glancing at the lock one last time before finally stepping inside after her.

-----

The apartment was… fine.

Smaller than her place back home, but clean, modern. The furniture was sleek, everything in shades of beige and gray, the kind of aesthetic that looked nice in photos but didn’t feel like anyone lived there. Too polished. Too impersonal.

But it was quiet.

That was something, at least.

Bucky paced through the space, scanning everything the way he always did when he entered somewhere new. Windows locked. No weird creaks on the floor. The bathroom door was solid, good enough for some peace. The bedroom was decent -bigger than he expected- but the bedspread was stiff, too neat, too unfamiliar. The walls were bare, and the city noise outside was muffled but ever-present, like a dull hum beneath his skin.

He sighed, rubbing his face. It wasn’t home. But for the next few days, it had to be. He wandered back into the kitchen, running a hand over the smooth counters. It was nice, but something about it felt… unused. Like no one had ever actually cooked in here before.

Well. That was about to change.

Without really thinking about it, he decided he’d make dinner.

They had packed some groceries in a box in the truck’s back, just to be safe, in case they couldn’t find a store right away. He sorted through it, pulling out what he needed.

Dinosaur pasta.

She had laughed at him when he tossed it into the cart back home, but he didn’t care. It was easy and reliable. And this time, he’d give it a twist. She had taught him how to make pink sauce a while ago, and he’d actually paid attention. Figured he’d surprise her with it.

Or so he thought.

The hour of her return came and went.

Bucky stirred the sauce one last time, glancing at the clock. Then the door. No messages.

He exhaled, shaking his head. She’s busy. It’s fine.

But another half hour passed. Then another. The food sat untouched, already cold. His chest tightened. Not with anger, not really, but with something else. Something he didn’t want to name.

Eventually, he gave up. He microwaved himself a portion, eating in silence before rinsing his plate and heading for the bedroom.

He didn’t bother turning on the big lights, just flipped on the TV, letting it play something -anything- to fill the space. He lay back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, eyes on the screen but not really watching.

Then, finally, the sound of the front door opening.

Soft footsteps. A rustling of bags.

A pause.

“…Bucky?”

He didn’t answer right away, just listened. A quiet exhale. Then-

“My phone died,” she said, her voice carried down the hall. “I couldn’t message you. I- I’m so sorry.”

Bucky blinked up at the ceiling, with his lips pressed into a thin line.

For a second, he debated saying it’s fine. But it wasn’t, not really. He wasn’t mad, not exactly, but something swirled in his chest, something that made him feel stupid for waiting, for hoping for something as simple as dinner together.

So instead, he just said, “There’s food in the kitchen.”

A beat of silence. Then soft footsteps, getting closer.

She peeked into the room, eyes full of guilt. “You made dinner?”

Bucky shrugged. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

“You’re so thoughtful, darling,” she murmured, stepping closer. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

He hummed, noncommittal, eyes flicking back to the TV. He wasn’t trying to be cold, but something in him was still knotted up, and he didn’t know how to untangle it just yet.

She didn’t push.

Instead, she peeled off the blazer she had been wearing all day, then unbuttoned her blouse, sighing in relief as she swapped it out for something infinitely more comfortable: one of his old henleys.

She had stolen it from his cabin months ago, claiming it as hers without argument, and at this point, he had just accepted it.

Bucky caught the familiar fabric from the corner of his eye, and for some reason, that tiny thing made his chest ache a little less.

She gave him one last look, a small, tired smile before disappearing into the kitchen to heat up the food.

-----

The hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the countertops as she leaned against them, rubbing her tired eyes. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now, as the scent of the warmed-up pasta made her stomach grumble.

She pulled the plate out, grabbed a fork, and settled at the small dining table. The first bite was perfect, creamy, and rich, with just the right balance of tomato and cream. Even after sitting for hours, it was still good. She smiled to herself. Of course, it was.

She heard a faint noise behind her, and she glanced up to see Bucky lingering in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her eat. He wasn’t brooding, not exactly, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something cautious like he was still holding onto whatever had crawled into his chest earlier.

She chewed slowly, then set her fork down. “You gonna stand there all night, or you wanna come sit?”

Bucky huffed through his nose but pushed off the doorframe, walking toward her with slow, measured steps. He didn’t sit, though. Just leaned against the counter, hands braced on either side of him.

She took another bite, then met his gaze. “It’s really good.”

He hummed like he wasn’t sure whether to believe her.

She frowned, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Then, without thinking too hard about it, she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

Bucky stilled.

She squeezed gently, running slow circles over the back of his hand with her thumb. “I hate that you waited for me and I wasn’t here.”

He let out a slow exhale, shifting his shoulders. “S’not your fault.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But I still hate it.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes flicked away like he wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling pressing against his ribs.

Then, finally, he squeezed her hand back. She smiled, tugging lightly until he sighed and gave in, pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down.

She took another bite, then set her fork down again. “You know I love this, right?”

He blinked at her. “What?”

She gestured to the plate. “You. Making dinner. Thinking about me. I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, but it is to me.”

Bucky swallowed, flexing his fingers around hers. “Yeah?”

She smiled, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. “Yeah.”

He let out a slow breath for the first time that night, as something in his chest finally let go.

------

The next morning, they went out to walk around and make the most of their time before she had to head to her second meeting. The city was already alive with movement, people rushing to work, street vendors setting up, the noise of conversations and car horns blending into the background noise.

They grabbed something to eat at a small café, sitting by the window, watching the world go by. Bucky was quieter than usual, but she didn’t push. He had agreed to come with her and had stepped into a place he hated for her, and that was already more than enough.

After breakfast, they strolled down a quieter street, hand in hand. She had been enjoying herself -taking in the sights, pointing out things she thought were interesting- when she finally noticed it.

Bucky was stiff.

His jaw was tight, and his free hand curled into a loose fist by his side. But what really gave him away was the way his eyes moved, scanning their surroundings, tracking every person that passed by.

She squeezed his hand gently. “What’s wrong?”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Nothin’.”

She arched a brow. “Bucky.”

His shoulders shifted, and after a pause, he sighed. “…I feel observed.”

Her heart clenched a little. She knew what this was, his self-consciousness creeping in, his social anxiety pressing against his ribs, telling him he didn’t belong here, seeing threats where there were none.

She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “I don’t perceive it.”

He made a quiet, disbelieving sound, but before he could argue, she smirked. “Although, I do think there’s a bunch of women looking at you.”

That startled him. He blinked down at her. “What?”

“You’re too handsome,” she simply said, like it was a fact.

Bucky groaned, shaking his head. “‘Guess only you see that, darlin’.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Bucky, I’m gonna say this once, because I really don’t want you all cocky later, but… you are a gorgeous man.”

His brows pulled together, like the very idea confused him. Before he could brush it off, she pressed on.

“I know you don’t see yourself like that. Not anymore. But you are,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand. “So believe me when I tell you that probably six out of ten women we’ve passed would say yes if you asked them out.”

Bucky’s ears tinged pink, and his lips parted slightly before he clamped his mouth shut, looking away. He shifted his weight, clearing his throat like that would somehow push the embarrassment down.

“…That’s not a real statistic,” he muttered.

------

He sat on a park bench, stretching his legs out as she wandered over to a street vendor. She was buying caramelized peanuts, chatting with the old man behind the cart, moving her hands as she gestured about something.

He let his gaze stray through the park.

A pair of guys in army uniforms caught his attention as they strolled past, laughing easily, and moving with confident steps. One of them playfully nodded toward a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench, earning a few shy smiles in return.

Bucky’s chest stiffened.

Once upon a time, he had been one of those guys.

A menace on his days off, all easy charm and reckless energy making the most of whatever time he had before duty called again. He had forgotten, sometimes, what that version of himself looked like.

But then-

The unending campaigns. The things he had to do. The things he couldn’t take back.

His mind yanked him somewhere else, somewhere darker.

The storage house. The explosion. The searing heat of fire before everything went black, then worse, the crushing weight, the sickening snap of bone, the panic clawing up his throat as he realized he was trapped.

Dying buried alive.

Rainwater trickled through the cracks, dampening the dust, and turning it into mud.

His breathing fastened and his gaze dropped to the pavement, curling his fingers into his palms. The world around him dimmed, his body here but his mind there, stuck between then and now.

Then-

A touch. Soft. Soothing.

His head jerked up, with an unfocused gaze.

She crouched beside him, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder, with a concerned expression.

And when his eyes met hers, she sucked in a small, worried breath, because she had never seen that look in his eyes before.

Vacant. Haunted.

Lost.

-----

She didn’t let go of his hand the entire walk back.

Bucky didn’t protest, but he didn’t say much either. His grip was solid, but his steps were stiff, and his jaw was locked so tight she could see the muscle twitching. He kept his eyes forward, scanning the sidewalk, shoulders squared like he was bracing for something, though she wasn’t sure what.

She kept her voice soft. “Almost there.”

He hummed, barely acknowledging it.

She didn’t push.

The city noise surrounded them. The honking of cars, the chatter of people passing by, the echo of hurried footsteps against the pavement, but she barely noticed. Her focus was on him, on the way he was still somewhere else, even as they turned the last corner and the building came into view.

When they reached the door, she entered the code with one hand, still holding onto him with the other. The lock clicked. She pushed the door open, stepping inside first before turning to look at him.

Bucky exhaled slowly like he was only now allowing himself to breathe.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on.”

He didn’t move at first, flicking his eyes past her like he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross the threshold. But then, slowly, he stepped inside.

She shut the door behind him.

“Wanna lie down?” she asked softly.

Bucky didn’t answer right away, but then he nodded, just once.

She guided him toward the bedroom, with her hand still loosely curled around his. The moment they reached the bed, she lay down first, settling against the pillows. He hesitated for only a second before following, shifting until he found the place he always found soothing, his head resting in the valley of her breasts, arms wrapped firmly around her waist.

She exhaled, letting her fingers trace slow, lazy circles across his back.

He said nothing, but she felt it, the way his body, little by little, started to relax against her. The tension in his shoulders softened, his breathing evened out, and his grip on her went from holding on to simply holding.

The minutes passed on, and the only sound in the room was the soft tick of the clock.

“You’re gonna be late,” he grumbled, muffled against her body.

She hummed, drifting her fingers up into his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, soothing strokes. “Don’t care.”

Bucky huffed.

“They haven’t even deposited my travel allowance yet,” she added. “They can wait a few more minutes.”

He sighed against her, and she felt it, the subtle way he melted just a little more, sinking into the warmth of her touch, the safety of her body against his.

“Tell you what,” she murmured, still tracing slow circles over his scalp. “Since you’re so tense, I’ll give you a nice massage when I get back. What do you think?”

Bucky nuzzled against her chest, exhaling a breath that was just shy of a sigh. “I’d be real fucked up if I said no to that.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Perfect.”

Her hands never stopped moving, going down to rub at the knots in his shoulders, then ghosting along the base of his neck.

After a moment, she shifted slightly beneath him. “Will you be okay alone in here?”

He nodded against her.

It wasn’t a complete lie.

He would be fine. The walls weren’t closing in, the noise from outside was manageable, and he had a place to retreat to, away from the chaos of the city. Technically, he’d be fine.

But deep down, he knew what was coming.

She would leave. The apartment would get too quiet. His thoughts -the ones he had been trying to push down since the park- would creep back in, crawling up his throat, and pressing against his ribs.

And that dark, familiar pull would be there, whispering its old, ugly promises.

It was one of his last dirty secrets.

One he was ashamed to reveal to her.

He had gotten better -so much better- but the temptation never really went away. Sometimes it was just a flicker, something he could ignore. Other times…

Like now.

His fingers twitched against her waist, resisting the urge to reach for his phone, to make the order before she even left. Just one bottle. Just to take the edge off.

“I won’t be gone long,” she reassured him.

Bucky swallowed. Nodded again.

“I know,” he murmured, hoping she couldn’t hear the lie beneath his words.

-----

The second the door shut behind her, the apartment felt different.

Empty.

He stayed in bed for a moment, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. The warmth her body had left behind was fading, replaced by the cool feeling of being alone.

He took a slow breath. Let it out.

Then he sat up, rubbed a hand down his face, and reached for his phone.

It wasn’t even a debate, not really. The thought had been there since the park, lurking in the back of his mind, and now, without her here to distract him, it clawed its way forward.

Just a bottle. Just a drink. Just to settle things.

His fingers moved before he could talk himself out of it. A few taps, an automatic confirmation. Done.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but the knock on the door came quicker than expected. He stood slowly, crossing the room, hesitating just for a second before pulling the door open.

The delivery guy barely looked at him, just handed over the bag, muttering a quick have a good one before turning away.

Bucky shut the door and stared down at the weight in his hands.

For a long moment, he didn’t move.

Then, he walked into the kitchen and set the bottle down on the counter. He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before turning away. His muscles ached from how tense he’d been all morning

He’d take a shower first.

But the water didn’t wash away his thoughts.

His mind was on a battlefield, mud, blood, fire, and screams. The weight of debris pinning him down. The searing pain in his left arm, so sharp it had felt like his body was being torn in half.

And then… the hospital.

The look on the officer’s face when he was told, flatly, clinically, that he was expendable. That his sacrifice had been expected. Calculated. That they would move forward without him.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the shower tiles. He had fought for his country. Given everything. And when he needed them most, they had tossed him aside like a broken weapon.

Then she walked away.

He tousled his hair, exhaling sharply as the memory crawled forward, uninvited.

She had grown distant. At first, it was subtle: longer pauses between messages, a clipped voice when she finally answered his calls. Then came the excuses. How busy she was. How complicated things werefor her. How she needed time.

Eventually, she stopped answering at all.

Her friend had been the one to deliver the final blow. “It was difficult for her,” she had said, carefully avoiding his eyes. “She’s not in a place to handle… your situation. She’s struggling too, you know.”

His situation.

His problems.

His disability.

He turned off the water, with a rough movement. He grabbed a towel, rubbing it over his face before wrapping it around his waist.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, his mind was still in shambles, raw and restless, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Then his eyes landed on the counter.

The bottle was still there, untouched. Waiting.

Bucky cursed under his breath.

His fingers twitched, and before he could think too hard about it, he grabbed the bottle and poured himself a glass. He stared at his distorted reflection on the smooth, amber-colored surface for a while.

But he didn’t drink.

Instead, he turned away, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. He needed boxers. Maybe if he did something -even something as simple as getting dressed- it would take the edge off.

He shuffled through his suitcase, pushing aside neatly folded shirts, a couple of henleys, and his new corduroy pants. No boxers. He frowned.

Then he remembered, she had packed them in hers.

With a sigh, he crouched next to her bag, unzipping it and rummaging inside. His fingers brushed against some fabric, then something firmer, a box.

Cardboard. Smooth.

Curious, he lifted it out.

It was a large, homemade chocolate box from Winnifred’s, the local baker back home. He recognized it instantly.

He swallowed hard, looking down at the box in his hands, tightening his grip around it while he walked to the living room.

She had planned this, before the trip. She had thought of him, of making this first Valentine’s together special, even when she knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who cared for fancy celebrations.

And he knew -of course he knew- she had probably planned something else, something back home. Maybe dinner at his cabin, decorated secretly while he worked, something small but theirs alone. But the trip had messed everything up, throwing them into this place that didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like home.

Still, she had brought a little piece of it with her, for him.

Bucky exhaled shakily, blinking hard. His gaze flicked toward the counter, to the glass of whiskey waiting for him, and the bottle looming beside it.

For a moment, he just stared.

Then he walked over, grabbed the glass, and dumped it in the sink. The sharp splash of liquid against metal filled the silence, followed by the pour as he emptied the rest of the bottle down the drain.

He didn’t watch it disappear. Just threw the empty bottle in the trash, turned, and sat heavily on the couch. Then, he opened the chocolate box with careful fingers, staring at the neat rows inside, hovering his index over them for a moment before he grabbed one.

This would do.

He took a bite, letting the rich sweetness melt on his tongue.

Yeah.

This would do.

-----

The first thing she saw when she stepped through the door that afternoon, was Bucky sprawled on the couch, snoring softly.

Her surprise chocolate box rested almost empty over his stomach, and his fingers -coated with a brownish glint- dangled near the floor. His towel had loosened slightly, barely hanging onto his waist, exposing just enough skin to make her stare longer than necessary.

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling.

She almost took a picture.

Almost.

But then, she remembered.

The way he had been before she left, lost in his own mind, dealing with something he didn’t want to express. It wouldn’t be strange if he had some kind of oral anxiety attack, needing something -anything- to keep himself calm.

So instead, she tiptoed, lifting the nearly empty chocolate box from his stomach and setting it aside. Then, she grabbed a blanket, draped it carefully over him, and turned down the lights.

With a small sigh, she slipped into the bedroom and pulled out his old henley. Clearly, they weren’t going out for the day.

She then moved into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves as she started pulling out ingredients for dinner. She wasn’t in a rush, just moving through things, deciding what to make while Bucky got his rest.

It didn’t take long before she felt it.

The familiar warmth of strong arms wrapping around her waist. A heavy, solid weight pressed against her back. The slow, hot breath against her ear.

“Isn’t it the massage lady,” Bucky murmured, sleepily.

Before she could respond, he pressed a lazy kiss to the side of her neck. Then another. Slow, unhurried, tasting her, feeling her warmth beneath his lips.

She shivered, tilting her head just slightly, giving him more access. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

He hummed against her skin, tightening his grip on her waist. “Woke up.” Another kiss, just below her jaw. “Found somethin’ better to do.”

She exhaled a soft laugh, resting a hand over his. “That so?”

“Mm.” His lips dragged lower, pressing against the curve of her shoulder. “Still gotta cash in that massage.”

Her smile widened. “Oh, do you?”

“Mhmm.” He nuzzled against her skin, voice dropping to a rasp. “Feelin’ all sorts of tension, sweetheart.”

She smirked, reaching back to run her fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. “Well, we did say we’d make the most of our time here…”

Bucky hummed his approval, as his hands started to wander, and his breath blew warm and slow against her pulse.

Dinner could wait.

She turned in his arms, her body still glued to his. Her hands slid up slowly, threading her fingers behind his neck, playing lazily with the hairs at his nape.

“Well, mister,” she murmured, tilting her head. “You’re already in your birthday suit… where exactly are you aching?” she asked, playfully pressing herself flush against him, against the unmistakable evidence of his interest, thick and hard against her stomach.

Bucky let out a low, rumbling sound, tightening his hands around her waist. “You really gotta ask?”

She grinned, dragging her nails lightly over the back of his neck. “Mmm… just making sure. Wouldn’t wanna miss a spot.”

His grip flexed, pulling her even closer, grinding his erection against her. “Sweetheart,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep and heat, “if you keep talkin’ like that, I’m afraid we’ll skip the massage.”

“Oh?” she hummed, trailing her fingers up the back of his neck, scratching lightly over his scalp. “And here I was, all ready to… work on you.”

She let her one hand slide between them, dipping lower, palming his cock through the towel.

Bucky inhaled sharply, and his whole body tensed as her grip tightened just slightly, teasing, testing. His head tipped forward, resting his forehead against hers.

“Darlin’,” he warned, with a strained voice

She smiled, leaning in just enough for her lips to brush his. “What?” she murmured, giving another slow, deliberate squeeze.

Bucky groaned, a deep, needy sound. “You’re real close to losin’ that henley.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “That a threat or a promise?”

“Both,” he growled, then kissed her like he meant it.

His lips crashed against hers, slow at first, but that control didn’t last long. Not with the way her fingers kept working him through the towel, sending heat curling low in his stomach, making his knees damn near weak.

He groaned again into her mouth, slipping one hand down to grab a handful of her thigh, pulling her flush against him. The pressure of her palm massaging his cock, the way her body molded to his, it was too much and not enough all at once.

“Fuck,” he muttered against her lips, with ragged breaths.

She smirked, dragging her nails lightly down his back. “You’re so tense, baby,�� she teased, voice dripping with false innocence.

He huffed a laugh, slipping his hands slipping beneath the henley, warm, coarsed palms gliding over the bare skin of her thighs, up to her ass. He gave a firm squeeze, pulling her against his aching cock. “Yeah? Pretty sure you’re the one causin’ the tension.”

She gasped softly, and he took advantage of the sound, catching her lips again, and swallowing every little noise she made as he pressed her back against the counter.

Her fingers hooked into the knot of his towel, tugging, loosening it, but before she could pull it away completely, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“Oh, no,” he rasped, dragging his lips down her neck. “You first, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he slipped his fingers under the hem of her nightie and started sliding it up, as his mouth trailed lower, his breath hot against her skin.

“B-but the idea was to make you feel good,” she pouted, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it.

He chuckled, deep and lazy, vibrating against her skin. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, dragging his lips up to her ear. “This is gonna make me feel real good.”

His fingers skimmed over her bare thighs, slipping higher, slowly and deliberately. Then he tugged the nightie over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. He leaned back just enough to take her in, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Look at you,” he murmured, tracing a hand down her side, rough fingers ghosting over soft skin. “So damn beautiful.”

Her lips parted, her body already melting into his touch, but he wasn’t done yet.

Bucky bent slightly, gripping the backs of her thighs and effortlessly lifting her onto the counter. His hands slid up, spreading her knees apart as he stepped between them. He barely gave her a chance to breathe before his lips were on hers again, his hands gripping her thighs, keeping her close, keeping her his.

She shifted against him, pressing closer, brushing her bare skin against his, and fuck, he could lose himself in this.

In her.

After the kind of morning he had, after the things clawing at the edges of his mind, he knew he had been short with her. He hadn’t meant to be, she was one of the few good things he had since everything went to hell, and the last thing he wanted was to push her away.

And yet, she had still come to him. Still had covered him with a blanket, made sure he was comfortable and had started making dinner instead of being upset that he had shut down on her.

He didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve her.

Bucky exhaled against her lips, dragging his hands up her sides before dipping lower, catching the band of her panties between his fingers. “These,” he murmured, snapping the waistband lightly, “are in my way.”

She let out a breathless little laugh, lifting her hips just enough to help him. He wasted no time, sliding them down her legs, letting the fabric hit the floor before running his hands back up her thighs, spreading her open for him.

His mouth traced along her jaw, nipping at the skin just below her ear before whispering, “You really are too damn good to me, sweetheart.”

She sighed, tilting her head to let him continue his path down her neck. “Maybe,” she teased. “Or maybe you just deserve it.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he dropped to his knees.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her in place. He could lose himself here.

He would.

He didn’t wait for permission.

He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, feeling the way she shivered beneath his touch. He wanted to take his time, to savor, to make up for earlier, not just for himself. She deserved that.

One of his hands slid up, fingers spreading over her tummy, pressing gently as if to hold her steady. The other trailed lower, teasing along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, watching with satisfaction as her breath hitched.

Then, finally, finally, he leaned in.

He flicked his tongue against her, just barely, a featherlight touch that made her jolt. He smirked, gripping her hips to keep her still, then did it again, a little firmer this time. “Fuck,” he muttered against her, voice rough with want. “You always taste so good.”

She whimpered, as her fingers found their way into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. That sent a shiver straight to his cock, and made him need to hear more of those sweet little sounds from her lips.

He licked a slow, teasing stripe up her slit, circling her clit with the tip of his tongue before pulling away just enough to blow cool air against her. The way she whined, the way her hips bucked up into his mouth, fuck, she was perfect.

He groaned, gripping her thighs as he dived back in, pressing his tongue against her pussy, stroking her just right, slipping lower to taste all of her before dragging back up to flick again her swollen, aching clit.

Her thighs clenched around his head, and he loved it. He wanted it.

He slipped a finger inside her, groaning at how warm and wet she was, at how she clenched around him, so tight and perfect. He curled it just right, adding a second, pumping them slowly, in time with the strokes of his tongue.

“Bucky-” she gasped, tightening her grip on his hair, legs trembling slightly.

That only spurred him on.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured against her, voice thick with hunger. “Let me have it.” He pleaded, suckling at her clit with intent. He didn’t stop, not until she was moaning his name, arching against him, coming undone beneath his mouth, just the way he wanted.

Her thighs instinctively closed again around his head, rolling her hips, searching, chasing his mouth as she neared that blissful edge.

Her grip on his hair was tight, almost desperate, and fuck, he loved it. Loved the way she came undone for him, loved how she let go with him.

“Bucky! oh God-”

His name tumbled from her lips, breathless, wrecked, and that was all it took. Her thighs trembled, her back arched as the pleasure crashed over her, her walls clenching his fingers tightly as she came apart.

He didn’t stop. Not yet. He worked her through it, lapping up every little aftershock, basking in the way her body pulsed, how she shuddered against him.

Only when she whimpered, overstimulated, did he finally ease up, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh.

He looked up at her, pupils blown wide. “Think that did more for me than it did for you,” he rasped, smirking as he ran his hands over her still-trembling thighs.

She blinked down at him, dazed, as she tried to catch her breath.

Then, with a lazy, satisfied smile, she tugged at his hair. “Get up here,” she murmured. “You’re not done yet.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed, with dark intent.

Before she could even catch her breath, his lips crashed against hers, hungry, desperate, gripping her waist almost brutishly as he pulled her off the counter. She barely had time to register the shift before he spun her around, bending her against the cool surface.

A gasp left her lips as she splayed her hands against the counter for balance.

He groaned at the sight in front of him, before running his hands down her back, over the curve of her ass, squeezing once before nudging her legs apart with his knee.

“Look at you,” he rasped, pressing his chest to her back, letting her feel every inch of him, hard and aching against her. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He kissed the back of her neck, trailing his lips down to her shoulder as one hand slid between her legs, fingers slipping through the mess he had made.

Still soaked for him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, as he stroked her, feeling her jolt beneath his touch.

She whimpered, shifting back against him, pressing into his fingers, wordlessly pleading for more.

Bucky smirked against her skin. “You want me inside, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him again.

That was all he needed.

He gripped her hip with one hand, guiding himself with the other, teasing her, just barely pressing in. Then, with a low growl, he snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside her in one deep, slow thrust.

A broken moan escaped her lips, fingers gripping the counter as he stretched her, filled her, claimed her.

Bucky clenched his jaw, trying real hard to keep it together, to give her a second to adjust, but fuck, she was so warm, so tight, squeezing him just right-

Then she pushed her hips back against him, wordlessly demanding more.

And who the hell was he to deny her?

Bucky growled, and set a brutal pace, determined to make her feel every inch of his cock.

He didn’t speak.

He just took.

His hands were bruising on her hips, gripping tight enough to leave marks, using the leverage to pull her onto his cock with deep, brutal thrusts. There was no teasing, no slow buildup, just raw, desperate need, pouring out of him with every snap of his hips.

Each stroke drove her forward, and her fingers slipped against the counter as she struggled to hold herself up. The force of his movements knocked the breath from her lungs, and made her whimper and moan, leaving her body pliant beneath his.

He was relentless.

He stretched her wide, filled her with every rough thrust, dragging against that sensitive spot inside her that made her keen. Her walls clenched down around him, and he responded with a ragged, guttural groan, tightening his fingers, as his pace grew even more frenzied.

He wasn’t holding back.

The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the kitchen, mixing with her gasps, and her breathless cries. He drove into her, each movement fueled by something dark and desperate, something he couldn’t put into words.

Because right now, he wasn’t thinking about anything except how good she felt around him, how perfectly she took him, how much he needed this, needed her.

Her legs trembled, and her body arched against him, as every hard thrust sent the pleasure curling up her spine. She was close, her breaths turning into sharp, broken moans, her body tightening around him. The delicious pressure and wet heat threatened to undo him, but he gritted his teeth, determined to make this last.

He didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

His rhythm turned rougher, harder, as he chased the only thing that made sense, the feeling of her falling apart beneath him. One hand snaked between her sweat-slicked thighs to rub tight, hard circles over her throbbing clit.

When she came, she practically sobbed in pleasure, throwing her head back in a silent scream. Her walls clenched around him like a silken fist, massaging his throbbing cock and pushing him dangerously close to the edge. But he wasn’t done.

Not yet.

With a growl, he kept going, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her up as he kept fucking into her, hard and deep, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from her wrecked body, until all she could do was take it.

The countertop creaked beneath the force of his thrusts, and her body jerked with every sharp snap of his hips like a ragdoll. She was overstimulated, so sensitive, but she took it, let him use her, let him chase his own pleasure the way he needed to.

His fingers dug into her skin again, and his pace turned erratic, desperate, sweat slicking his chest as he buried himself inside her again and again. His breath was ragged, and his jaw clenched so tight it ached, while his head swam in her intoxicating warmth, the one thing that calmed him, that kept him from spiraling.

His grip bruised as he slammed into her one last time, burying his cock deep as his body seized. His breath caught, a strangled groan escaped his throat as he spilled inside her, grinding his hips against her rear, making sure every last drop was pumped deep inside her waiting body. For a long moment, neither of them moved, and only the sound in the space was their ragged breathing.

Then, finally, Bucky exhaled, loosening his grip just enough to press his forehead to the back of her neck.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t know what to say.

So instead, he just held her -his anchor, his salvation- until his heart stopped racing and the weight pressing down on his chest finally, finally lifted.

She stood there, trying to catch her breath, with her body still trembling as Bucky held her close, his chest rising and falling against her back. He was still nestled between her legs, slick walls cradling his spent, twitching cock.

She rested her forehead against her folded arms, as a shaky laugh escaped her lips. “Well, Buck… that was… something else,” she breathed out, trying to catch her breath.

Bucky huffed a quiet, almost satisfied sound. He hadn't meant to be so rough, so desperate, but something about what happened, about the way she let him have her, the way she took everything he gave, made it impossible to hold back.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” he finally murmured.

She smiled against her arm. “No. Far from it,” she whispered, turning her head just enough to catch his eyes, with a teasing glint. “I suspected it, but didn’t know you had that in you.”

His lips brushed the back of her neck, a quiet apology hidden in his touch. He wanted to say something, to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he needed her, but the words tangled heavily in his throat.

As Bucky carefully pulled out of her, a sharp gasp left her lips. His hands stayed on her hips, but his gaze dropped immediately to where they were still connected, to the way his cum slowly trickled down her inner thigh, glistening against her skin.

Something primal and possessive bloomed in his chest.

Before he could think twice about it, he reached down, swiping his thumb through the mess, gathering every drop before pushing it back inside her with slow, deliberate pressure.

She gasped, jolting, gripping hard at the counter. “Bucky-”

“Shhh,” he shushed, sliding his free hand up her spine, as his lips brushed the nape of her neck. “Can’t let it go to waste, sweetheart.”

Her breath came out in a shudder, and her legs shook as he pushed his thumb deeper, as if claiming her all over again.

Satisfied, he finally withdrew, fingers glistening as he traced lazy circles over her overstimulated pussy, smirking when she whimpered at the touch.

He was about to tease her -about how sensitive she was, how good she looked wrecked for him, slapping her softly- when her breathless voice cut through the haze.

“I take it as you liked the chocolates,” she teased, turning around in his arms and pressing a slow kiss to his sternum. “this was a very pleasant way of saying thanks”

His hands slid back down to her hips, gripping firmly, fingers pressing into the flesh he had spent the last half an hour worshipping. He hummed, satisfied, tilting his head as he looked down at her. “You wanted me to like ‘em, didn’t you?”

She sighed, pressing her face briefly against his chest, before pulling back just enough to cradle his face with one hand. “I’m glad you did,” she whispered.

He exhaled, leaning into her touch.

“And I’m sorry that we’re stuck here until Friday.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, flicking his gaze away for half a second before settling back on her.

“S’not your fault,” he muttered.

She pressed another kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Still.” As she spoke, her fingers trailed up his arm, slow and deliberate, mapping the rough ridges and scarred skin that told stories of pain and survival.

Bucky tensed beneath her touch.

It was instinctive, something ingrained so deep in him he didn’t even think about it. His scars weren’t something he liked being noticed, much less touched. But she had never treated them like something to be ashamed of, never recoiled or hesitated.

And now, instead of pulling away, she leaned in, brushing her lips over the marred skin of his shoulder before playfully nipping at it.

His breath halted.

She grinned against his skin. “You know… I still owe you that massage,” she murmured, pressing her fingers into the firm muscle of his bicep, kneading it gently.

He exhaled sharply, not in discomfort, but in something else. Something warmer. She had a way of disarming him, stripping away the self-consciousness he didn’t even realize he was holding onto.

His lips twitched, as his hands found their place on her hips again. “You’re not gonna let that go, huh?”

She hummed, dragging her lips along his shoulder, hands working their way up to his neck. “Nope.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. His tension was gone, replaced by something softer. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing her hip. “Guess I’m all yours.”

She took his hand, guiding him toward the bedroom.

As they walked, Bucky’s free hand reached for the nearly empty chocolate box on the table, smiling to himself.

She raised a brow. “Still hungry?”

His little smile deepened, something dark, wicked flickering behind his eyes as he squeezed her fingers in his.

“Somethin’ like that,” he murmured, winking an eye.

She swallowed, as heat prickled at the base of her spine, suddenly very aware that whatever he had planned… she’d be the one melting like chocolate before the night was over.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[forcaleb]

five days without you — caleb

warnings — fluff, very minimal angst, y/n gets angry at caleb for a small bit, argument (for like one paragraph or something)

notes — i lied about that xavier fic here's another caleb fic LMFAO anyway, who's ready for the banner tomorrow :3 tags: @aomiiine @sydneybee

“caleb?” your voice echoes through the empty apartment. as expected, he’s still not home. he promised the mission would take three days at most, but it’s been five now, and there’s no sign of him.

he isn’t answering your calls. occasionally, he responds to your texts with short replies, but that’s it. every time you call, it goes straight to voicemail, or he answers for five seconds, saying he doesn’t have time to talk.

you understand he’s busy, but you’re worried. it’s been two days past his promised return, and he’s still not back. on top of that, you can’t contact his coworkers — caleb has a way of scaring off anyone who tries to get too close to you.

the sound of keys rattling at the front door suddenly jolts you to alertness. grabbing the gun from the kitchen table, you move cautiously toward the door. sure, caleb claims his apartment is the safest place in skyhaven, but does that hold true when you’re all alone?

“wh-who is it?” you call out, hoping for a reply. nothing. slowly, you turn the handle and yank the door open, pointing your gun at the figure on the other side.

“whoa there, princess,” caleb’s voice makes your whole body relax instantly. “i’m gone for five days, and you’re already treating me like an intruder?” he steps inside, smiling, but your wide eyes remain fixed on him in disbelief. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”

“you!” you seethe, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into the apartment before slamming the door shut. “where have you been?! i’ve been worried sick! you didn’t answer your calls or texts. i couldn’t contact you anywhere! i can’t even reach your subordinates. and now you waltz in here acting like you didn’t just disappear for two extra days!”

caleb’s smile fades. “i’m sorry, princess,” he says, reaching for your hand. when you pull it away, his expression hardens for a moment before softening again. “i’m really sorry, y/n. i wanted to call you, but…” he sighs, using his evol to gently pull you closer. “i promise i tried. i just couldn’t find the right time without getting interrupted.”

you search his eyes, trying to determine if he’s lying. as far as you can tell, he’s not. “okay, i forgive you,” you say, and relief spreads across his face as he smiles gently again. “sorry for lashing out at you right when you got home.”

“it’s okay. i get it.” caleb rubs soothing circles on your hand. “you were really that worried about me?” he teases, and you pout.

“of course i was! imagine not hearing from your boyfriend for five whole days, and when you do, it’s just ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ or ‘okay’!” you smack his forearm in frustration. “wouldn’t that drive you crazy too?”

“mm, you’re right,” he hums in agreement, then suddenly leans his full weight onto you, his head resting on your shoulder. you nearly stumble under his weight.

“caleb?!”

“sorry, pips,” he mumbles, his voice heavy with fatigue. “i’m just a little tired.”

you pause before wrapping your arms around his waist, patting his back lightly. “there, there. you did amazing, caleb. you can rest as long as you want now.” you lift his head gently and see his eyes drooping, barely able to stay open. “wanna lie down?”

he nods, and you lead him into the bedroom. he collapses onto the bed immediately, pulling you into his embrace.

“caleb-”

“let me cuddle you for a while,” he murmurs, his voice soft and pleading. “i’ve missed you so much.”

[gf2bellamy]

hiii!

i was wondering if you could write spencer x reader, where she’s having a really bad day but spencer is coming home from a case and is exhausted, mentally and physically so she feels guilty that she would bother him with her mood

So she just hides away and is on the verge of a panic attack and spencer finds her and is all “you save me, so pls let me save you” and just comforts her (and calls her angel because 🫠)

thankyouuu so much (you dont have to do it if you dont want! no pressure at all!) i love your writing, it’s so incredibly cute and endearing <3

exhaustion — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying a lot , reader feeling guilty / tired / exhausted, spencer calls reader angel a/n: hii thank you so much for your request !! i hope you like this <3

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You sat on the couch, curled up in one corner, staring blankly at the empty space in front of you. The TV was off, the big overhead light was off, and the only light came from the small lamp on the side table.

You hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, your mind swirling with the events of the day. It had been one of those days—the kind where nothing went right, where every little thing seemed to pile up until you felt like you were drowning under the weight of it all. 

You missed Spencer. A lot. Especially right now.

He had a way of making everything feel better. You longed for his comforting hugs and the way he’d listen to you ramble about your day.

But he wasn’t here. He was at work, buried under mountains of paperwork and case files.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, your heart leaping in your chest as you hurried to the door.

Spencer stepped inside, looking disheveled and exhausted. His tie was loosened, his hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, and before you could say a word, he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and faintly of paper. For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, his voice muffled but sincere. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to let go, but after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks.

“Today was horrible,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he let go of you to shrug off his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than you’d seen him in a long time. 

You bit your lip, hesitating. “What happened?” you asked softly, following him as he moved further into the apartment. 

He sighed again, sinking onto the couch and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Just… paperwork. So much paperwork. And then Garcia’s computer crashed, so we lost half the files we needed, and Hotch wanted everything reorganized by tomorrow morning…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was just one thing after another.” 

You sat down next to him, your heart aching as you watched him. He looked so drained, so unlike his usual self, and you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about burdening him with your own problems.

Today had been hard for you, but it sounded like it had been even harder for him. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. 

So instead of talking about your day, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That sounds awful.” 

He gave you a small, tired smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s okay. It’s just… one of those days, you know?” 

You nodded, your throat tightening. You did know.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Instead, you shifted closer, pulling him into another hug. He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“How was your day?” Spencer mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy as he leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him.

You settled against his side, his head still resting on your shoulder as your fingers continued to gently card through his hair.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment, your hand stilling briefly before you forced yourself to keep moving. 

“It was… good,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. You tried to inject a note of cheerfulness into your tone, but it came out sounding hollow, even to your own ears. 

Spencer hummed against your shoulder, seemingly too tired to notice the slight falter in your voice. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his words muffled as he nuzzled closer to you. His warmth was comforting, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest. 

After a moment, he shifted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before slowly sitting up. “I’m going to get changed,” he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading toward the bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. 

As soon as he was out of sight, the lump in your throat returned, thicker and more suffocating than before. You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill all evening.

But it was no use. The dam broke, and before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, hurrying toward the bathroom. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against it as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Soon, you were crying , your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. You muttered curses under your breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to hold it together. 

“Get it together,” you whispered harshly, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

The tears kept running, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape.

You felt like a mess, your face hot and your chest tight. But just as you were about to try to pull yourself together, you heard footsteps outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice came through the door, gentle and concerned. “Can I come in?” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to do. Part of you wanted to tell him to go away, to spare him from seeing you like this, but another part of you desperately needed him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before slowly getting to your feet. 

You opened the door just enough to peek out, your eyes meeting Spencer’s. He was standing there, his expression soft but worried. His hair was still a mess, but his eyes were focused entirely on you. 

“Hey, hey,” he said immediately, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I—” you started, but your voice broke, and you shook your head, unable to continue.

How could you even begin to explain? Everything was wrong. The entire day had been wrong, and now you felt like you were falling apart. 

Spencer didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, wiping away a tear. His touch was so tender that it only made you cry harder.

“Come on,” he said softly, his hand slipping down to take yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling you with him, leading you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. 

You followed him numbly, your fingers intertwined with his as he guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

The nickname made your heart ache, and you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You had such a bad day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

Spencer’s expression softened, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You could never make my day worse,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re never a bother. Not to me. Not ever.” 

You shook your head again, your hands gripping his wrists as you tried to steady yourself. “But you were so tired, and I didn’t want to—” 

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You save me, I save you. That’s how this works, remember?” 

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching as more tears spilled over by just hearing those sweet words. Spencer leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You went willingly, burying your face in his shoulder as he held you close. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease. After a while he slowly let go, but his hands remaining on your arms.

“Tell me about your day,” he said after a while, his voice soft but insistent. “What happened?” 

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—so patient, so understanding—made it impossible to hold back. So you told him. You told him about everything that had gone wrong.

And he listened, his hands never leaving yours, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

When you were done, he pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” 

You nodded, your face buried in his shoulder as you clung to him. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Always, angel,” he said softly. “Always.” 

[vettelsvee]

I'M SORRY, JULIET | Mick Schumacher

Mick Schumacher x Secret Girlfriend Vettel!Reader

SUMMARY: You're secretly dating Mick, both of you hiding it from everyone in your families until you get so happy about him getting his first points in Formula 1 that your father, Sebastian, ends up finding out

WORD COUNT: 2404

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of teen pregnancy (age 17 from Seb and Hanna), angst. Settled on 2022 British GP

VEE'S NOTES: I missed so much posting about Mick so I had to bring him back... even that means Seb is the "bad guy" here. Hope you like it and thanks for reading! I'll be waiting for your opinions <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You hadn’t attended a Formula 1 race for longer than you could remember, and truthfully, you never thought you would again until Mick Schumacher started turning your world pink.

The boy had known you since you were a child, back when you would occasionally attend races hand in hand with your grandfather, Norbert. Your relationship deepened every time you saw each other in the paddock or at family gatherings, and despite the age difference between you, you grew closer and closer until you eventually fell in love with each other.

Even before your relationship began, you were both fully aware of the obstacles in your way. It wasn’t just the fact that Mick was six years older than you, but also that you were the children of two drivers who weren’t just former rivals and friends, but also were like family.

All of that, combined with the inevitable pressure from the press if they ever found out about your relationship, mattered little to Mick. One afternoon in mid-June, when the Schumachers and the Vettels had gathered together, he had decided to confess his feelings for you. At first, you were completely in shock, hearing from the lips of the very boy you had loved for years that he loved you too.

So, of course, when Mick asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend, you didn’t doubt to say yes.

Neither of you cared what others might say because, for now, no one knew about your relationship.

And there you were now, standing in the Aston Martin garage alongside your mother and your three younger siblings, watching the race with great enthusiasm as Sebastian drove the emerald-green car.

To the outside world, it might have seemed like you were simply there for one of the most important days in your father’s career since it was his 35th birthday. But in reality more than watching your father, you wanted to see your boyfriend.

Hanna noticed the tense expression on your face. Smiling warmly and without taking her eyes off Emily and Matilda, who were playing tag nearby, she stepped closer to you.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You seem like you’re in another galaxy.”

Your body tensed at the question, something that happened every time someone in your inner circle mentioned directly or indirectly your secret boyfriend. You tried to hide what was on your mind, but the combination of your mother’s presence and your nerves made you say more than you actually wanted.

“I’m nervous because I want dad to finish in the points,” you said with as much conviction as possible, though it wasn’t enough to convince Sebastian’s wife. “And well… I’m also worried about Mick.”

Hanna raised an eyebrow, curious, but not pressing. She had once been seventeen too. More than that, she had gotten pregnant with you at that age, and she knew that your concern for Mick went beyond simple friendship. Mothers developed a sixth sense when it came to their children, and she knew you too well to be fooled.

“Mick? Why would you be worried about Mick?” she asked, making sure not to pry too much or reveal how much she already knew.

“Well… he’s having a really good race today,” you replied, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’d like him to get a high position,” you explained, “even though with the piece of crap car he has we can’t expect much.”

Hanna nodded understandingly, reading between the lines of your words.

“I get it, sweetheart. I was the same way with your dad when he started racing,” she said, deliberately choosing her words to make you overthink. “Mick has a lot of talent, but he’s not in a team that helps him shine, so I understand why you care so much.”

“If you ever need to talk about Mick you know you can trust me, right?”  Hanna added,

You appreciated your mother’s words, though you remained cautious just in case she was digging for something that might expose your relationship. How naive you were to think she didn’t already know you were dating one of Sebastian’s best friends’ sons.

When the checkered flag waved and the twenty cars crossed the finish line, your eyes remained glued to the leaderboard. Not only had Carlos, one of your best friends, taken his first victory, but both Mick and Sebastian had finished in the points, placing eighth and ninth respectively.

Your father earning two points on his birthday was amazing. Your boyfriend earning three? Even better, especially since it was his first time scoring points in Formula 1. Saying you were emotional was an understatement, and no matter how much you tried to hold it in, a few tears escaped down your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly to avoid drawing attention.

Hanna, still by your side as she fed the youngest member of the family, noticed you approaching with a hesitant expression, as if you wanted to ask something but were afraid to.

“Can I go to Mick’s garage to congratulate him?” you asked cautiously. “It’s his first time scoring, and I’d like to say something to him in person before we leave for Switzerland.”

“I know you’re excited for him,” your mother said while burping the baby, “but I think it’s better if you stay here. It’s your dad’s birthday, and honestly? I doubt Haas would even let you see Mick.”

You nodded, though sadness crept in. You looked at the monitors, seeing the top three drivers already celebrating on the podium. Even from your location, you could hear the Spanish national anthem playing over the speakers.

“Mum,” you tried again, “come on, let me go congratulate Mick. I’ll be back quickly, and I’ll be here by the time dad gets back!”

Your exaggerated gestures and the way you waved your arms were too adorable, and Hanna couldn’t help but see herself in you. She remembered how she had felt when she started dating Sebastian, wanting nothing more than to see him every chance she had. As much as she tried to be the responsible mother, sometimes she just couldn’t help it. This was one of those moments, one where she gave in to the charms of her eldest, the spitting image of her father.

“Make sure you come back as soon as possible,” she relented with a small smile. “I don’t want your father calling me a bad mother for letting his baby do grown-up things.”

“Thank you, mum!”

With that being said, you sprinted off, weaving through mechanics, fans, and celebrities scattered around the paddock. You checked your phone to see if Mick had texted you, but there was nothing. That only made you hurry toward the Haas garage. Seeing it empty, you quickly turned around and headed toward the hospitality area, which was further away. While dodging anyone in your way, you sent Mick a message telling him you were on your way and that you had to be quick before your father returned.

When you arrived, the first thing you saw was Mick soaked in champagne, holding a bottle in his hand. The Haas team members, including Guenther, were celebrating. You felt out of place and your insecurity crept in, making you want to turn around and leave. But then Mick saw you, and the moment your eyes met, you knew you had made the right choice.

Mick immediately broke away from the group and rushed to your side, hugging you tightly. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, even if just a quick peck, but his rational side reminded him that now was not the place.

“Congratulations, Mick!” you exclaimed, your excitement taking over you. “Oh my God, oh my God! I’m so proud of you!” you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck.

“I finally get to see you, princess. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to,” he murmured playfully. “Although, I’d love to do a few other things with you.”

Your face turned bright red, something you had grown used to ever since you started dating Mick and were used to hear his endless compliments.

“How was the race?” he asked. “Did you like it, even though I probably looked like an idiot who doesn’t know how to drive?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mick!” you scolded, lightly hitting his arm. “You scored points for the first time. If that’s being an idiot, then I don’t know what that makes me.”

“That makes you the love of my life.”

Mick pulled you even closer, and just as he was about to kiss you, completely ignoring the risks, a voice interrupted.

Or rather, someone did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mick Schumacher?!”

As soon as you heard your father’s shouts, you and Mick pulled apart. You stood frozen, your face turning completely pale as Mick began cursing himself. How was he supposed to explain to the man who was like a father to him in many ways that he was dating you, his daughter?

You didn’t stay silent. You, who had a temper as strong as the man who had given her life, stepped between Mick and your father, trying to ease the tension that had formed over a simple show of affection.

“Dad, stop! It’s not what it looks like!” you exclaimed, nervous but determined.

“What do you mean it’s not what it looks like?” Sebastian scoffed, unwilling to believe your words. “Come on, Y/N, you were about to kiss him!”

“Yes, because Mick is my boyfriend,” you stated without hesitation. “We’ve been secretly dating since last month because we didn’t want to say anything just yet,” you explained without caring about the consequences. “So don’t act like this and use your fucking head and be reasonable for once.”

The Aston Martin driver was stunned, unsure how to react to the news that his daughter had a boyfriend, and that it was none other than the son of the man he considered his best friend, who had once been his mentor.

Mick watched as Sebastian looked at you in disbelief before shifting his gaze back to you, focusing all his attention on you.

“Y/N, this is insane… Mick,” he gestured toward him, “isn’t just any driver, he’s the son of—”

“I already know, Dad!” you interrupted, your tone sharp. “And? Does it matter? I don’t care who his father is, or who mine is, or the relationship between you two,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “We love each other, we take care of each other, and that’s the only thing that should matter to you.”

Mick alternated his gaze between father and daughter, finally mustering the courage to say something. But, before he could even open his mouth, Sebastian raised his right hand, silencing him immediately:

“Stop trying to fix this. You’ve fucked up, Mick,” he muttered as he stepped closer, his voice low enough that not even you could hear it. “My daughter is too young, and you know you could get into serious trouble if this gets out,” he added before stepping away and moving back toward you. “ I just sort of saved you from shit talks about you, so consider yourself lucky.”

“You can’t blame Mick for this, Dad,” you interjected defiantly. “We’re adults, and we can make our own decisions, so just leave us alone already.”

“You are not an adult, Y/N Vettel, you’re still a kid,” Sebastian snapped, his voice filled with unfiltered anger. “Stop acting like you are, because all you are is a reckless little girl.”

“Let me remind you that when you were 17 you fucked mum and you got her pregnant.”

You threw it out without thinking, and immediately, you regretted it, placing your hands over your mouth as if that could fix what you had just said. You knew you had been the most beautiful mistake your parents had, but you didn’t think about the impact it could have in their lives, especially in your father’s.

"I'm sorry, Juliet," the older driver began, trying not to let his anger and, especially, the pain he felt from your comment show. "But it's time to leave."

"Dad..."

"Not 'dad' or anything, Y/N," Sebastian said, raising his voice and making it sound harsher than he had intended at first. "Do you think it’s funny for me to see my daughter rubbing herself up against the one I consider my son?"

Mick paled as he heard his mentor’s words, feeling completely awful because he knew Sebastian was right. You threw him a look, but didn’t have the strength to answer. You were so in shock that you didn’t know how you hadn’t just left yet.

"And you, Mick," he said now, shooting a penetrating look at the young man, "I thought you could show a little more respect for our family and everything we’ve built together all these years."

Having said that, Sebastian took you by your shoulders carefully and started walking back to where the rest of your family was, not giving you or Mick a chance to say goodbye.

"We don't choose who we fall in love with, Sebastian," Schumacher blurted out, still frozen in place.

Your father and you turned around. The look of disappointment on Seb’s face made Mick feel a thousand times worse than he ever thought he could, but it was the sight of your tears falling rapidly that made him start crying.

"I expected you, more than anyone, to agree with this," he continued, pointing at you and himself, "because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that your daughter deserves someone good who can make her life the best it can be. If I can’t be that person because you won’t let us..." he pointed at himself, "...then I’ll be okay with it being someone else."

Vettel swallowed hard, not knowing what to say to the German’s words.

"I just want Y/N to be happy," the boy said again, "and if I have to let her go for now until you can accept and see that I’m really in love with your daughter, and that she’s the love of my life, I’ll be willing to do so."

With that, the young man turned around, trying not to look back, hoping to hear some words from those he had considered his family for so many years.

But, unfortunately for him, you and your father didn’t.

[kenyuukissme]

thinking about rin itoshi and sharing airpods with you.

i’m imagining you’re at a park together, its just about the evening. you’re standing beside the bench that you threw your bag onto, its just while you search for something in your bag. rin sighs, as you pull out your phone and an overly decorated airpod case.

now, listen. i just know he’d say “ew, that’s unhygienic.” but with enough convincing (pestering), you finally get him to wear one of your airpods. but what do you play, for someone who will most definitely judge your music taste?

“play whatever. just make it quick.” he mutters, taking your hand in his. your hand fits just perfectly with his, the gaps between his fingers comfortably enough space for yours to fit right in.

but despite him telling you to play anything, you’re still nervous. what if he’s just tolerating it?

since rin has decided you’re taking far too long (its been less than a minute.), he takes your phone from your hand, searching up an artist and choosing a featured album. you can’t see what song it is, nor who the artist is, so you just let it be.

now playing — black beauty [lana del rey]

he leads you, without a single word, to the swings and sits down. you sit on the one beside him, stretching slighting over the side to keep holding his hand. he stays put, simply taking in the moment and music. you try swinging. he sighs, letting go of your hand and letting you swing.

he can hear just barely over the music, you humming. it’s pretty. you’re pretty. so is the sunset.

ah, right. the sunset.

he stands up almost abruptly, grabbing onto the chain of your swing and accidentally stopping it so suddenly that you fall. right off of it.

“aaaaahh rinnieeee!!!” before you can even finish your sentence, he sighs. he offers his hands for you to grab and stand up with. but you stay on the floor, the wood chips and dirt clinging onto your clothes.

he sighs for what is the third (but feels like the hundredth) time this evening.

“fine, just. hurry up, we’ll miss it.” he leans down, opening his arms for you to wrap your own arms around his neck. you do as he gestured, carefully watching as he lifts you from the floor and holds his hands under your thighs.

you wrap your legs loosely around his waist, and once you’re comfortable, he starts walking yoj to wherever he said you guys would be late too.

turns out it’s not very far. in fact, you simply were carried to the shade of a nearby tree. to be fair, it’s mostly getting dark so the shade of a tree isn’t needed. nevertheless, he carefully sits you down on the grass and starts brushing the bits and bobs off of your clothes. he sits down beside you, and without a word, lays down. he looks at you, you’re confused. but he had one arm out, gesturing for you to lay down.

so you do. and before he can move his arm, you lay your head down on his bicep. you cheekily giggle, he simply rolls his eyes (he secretly hoped you’d lay on his arm).

“so, what would we be late for?” you ask, adjusting your airpod and snuggling a little closer to him. you wrap one arm around his torso, tracing light shapes on his side to pass the time.

“shh. it’s nearly time.” okay. loser.

you’re about to protest when he simply turns your face for you. and when he does, it’s perfect.

now playing — let the light in [lana del rey]

colours mix perfectly, between the branches of the tree you’re laying under. it’s truly a moment you can’t take a photograph of with a phone or just some camera. you just have to see it with your eyes. the colours are as if they’re hand in hand, they mix and merge perfectly. just like how your hand fits in rin’s.

watching a sunset, listening to lana and laying in your boyfriends arms. what more could you want?

a/n :: rushed. hate this. but it could be worse, ig. based off my irl experience. hope you like it, vee <3 taglist :: @sl-vega ; @rink1sser ; @veestar49111 + open [ask to be added] likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated

© kenyuukissme 2025 {do not copy, translate, steal, modify or repost without permission}

[hivemuthur]

Hi! Thank you so much for your beautiful work!! I hope it’s okay to make a silly little request

So I’m in my 20s (late 20s I might add) but I’ve never ever even kissed anyone yet and I kinda really want to so… Would you consider writing modern au!Viktor with a virgin!f!reader? Something about a first kiss or maybe having sex for the first time or first relationship..? Anything first in general 👉👈

Anon, I am beating my chest that it took so long and hope that you will get a notification that it is published (I sometimes don't when I ask anon questions). I was a late bloomer myself and it has some massive advantages. Though I hope you get to kiss someone nice soon!

First Rites

viktorxfemale!virgin!reader mature, kissing and making out :)

author’s note: Nothing smart to say here, really, other than I will probably write a part two of this :') @rennethen beta read!

word count: 1,8K

—

Your eyes sweep over Jayce’s tongue on Mel’s before you catch yourself staring. And even that doesn’t stop you. You analyse the movement of their hands, the way Jayce’s hips press into Mel’s, memorising all the smacking sounds they try to muffle into gentle giggles, hoping that you and Viktor are doing a decent job of not looking. When in reality, it’s the exact opposite.

It always goes the same way: the clack of heels echoing through the corridor outside the lab already has Jayce perking up. He grunts, clears his throat, and gets up slowly to avoid raised eyebrows and Viktor stating the obvious, like, “I guess this means you’re off for the day?”

Then, Jayce gives an apologetic smile and strolls toward the door, opening it before Mel can even knock. He exchanges a shy, stupid, cheek-reddened “Hi” for her sultry, thick “Hi yourself.” Their greetings die somewhere in their mouths when their lips meet in a first hello kiss. That one doesn’t last very long—soon, it shifts into an I missed you kiss. That lingers before melting into an I want you kiss or an I’d rather eat you than dinner kiss. And those are your favourites.

Even when you try very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss might follow that, you can’t help yourself. You end up blushed and flustered, your mind spinning with curiosity.

So you stare—impolitely, some might say—but for you, it’s research. You study and memorise, committing their courtship to memory so you can replay the scene later, your fingers wandering over your own lips as you imagine what it would be like. To have someone’s lips on yours, someone’s tongue in your mouth. It doesn’t sound all that appealing or hygienic, but it looks fantastic. It makes you feel a very much welcomed weirdness in your chest and belly, and having nothing else to supplement those feelings with, you just outright stare.

“It’s quite rude, if you ask me,” Viktor’s voice cuts through your thoughts just as Mel lets out a small, startled sound at Jayce’s hand cradling the back of her neck.

“Uh, I know. They should take it somewhere else, really,” you whisper back, but your tone is far from condemning. You say it absentmindedly, your eyes still glued to their mouths, chin propped on your hand, your scribbling abandoned the moment Jayce stood up.

“I meant your intense staring. But yes, such activities should be performed outside of work areas,” Viktor mumbles, not looking up from his notes.

Your blush deepens into an intense red hue as you finally look away and cover your face with your hand.

“Oh, I um… I didn’t mean to, it’s just—”

“All right, we’re off! Don’t work too hard while I’m gone!” Jayce’s beaming laughter cuts you off. Before you or Viktor can reply with a snarky comment, he sweeps Mel by the waist, and they disappear into the hallway. The sound of Mel’s giggle and the uneven click of her heels on the stone floors make you wonder if Jayce is kissing her neck or pressing her against a wall.

“It’s just?” Viktor insists, finally looking at you, his face forming an unamused expression.

“Nothing. It’s just nothing,” you respond quickly, picking up your pen with a shaky hand. You force yourself back to scribbling, even though your handwriting comes out ragged, suffering from both the excitement and the fear of Viktor’s prying eyes. But you do it anyway, desperate for any kind of shield.

“It does not look like nothing,” Viktor pushes, rotating in his chair to face you fully. You deepen your hunch, almost pressing your nose into the paper. How mortifying.

“I understand the concept of unrequited attraction, but you should really do yourself a favour and quit this self-flagellating practice of ogling every time Mel picks him up. It doesn’t lead to anything beneficial and impacts your focus,” Viktor drones, his nasal tone close to scolding.

You feel so scrutinised that you don’t even bother to correct his misunderstanding of your habit. You just sigh and continue your fake note taking.

“Trust me, I would know,” Viktor adds.

That catches your attention. How would he know anything about what you’re going through?

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you ask, keeping your face turned toward your notes, though your eyes wander to glance at him. He looks… unhappy? Mildly irritated? Annoyed at your lack of shame and focus?

“I am merely stating that lusting after someone out of reach is, at best, futile and, at worst, a path to ruin. For your own good, I would refrain from such practices,” Viktor says quietly.

You blink a few times as the words settle in your mind. He thinks I’m in love with Jayce? Lusting after him? It’s almost funny when you think that what you’ve been doing is in fact, just lusting.

“I can assure you, I am not attracted to Jayce. Or Mel, for that matter. I just—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s head snaps up so fast it surprises even him. He internally scolds himself for the involuntary reaction, but the undeniable punch of hope makes him lose control of his body for a moment. His pupils are wide, his brows lifted all the way to his forehead. “You’re not?”

“Uh, no,” you sigh, finally turning to face him properly. Your head dips as embarrassment weighs you down, but maybe admitting it will make it easier to carry. “I’m just… collecting research. For whenever I’ll have the opportunity. If ever. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever—”

“What?” Viktor’s voice comes out too sharp. Shit. He scowls at himself—internally, of course—for how poorly he masked his shock. Way to be sensitive.

You wince, sinking deeper into yourself.

“Oh. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to… offend you,” he says carefully, trying not to sound too excited. His hand hovers over your knee while he calculates whether it would be proper to comfort you with a gentle touch. If you would like that. If you would like him to touch you.

But before he can decide, you turn back to your side of the desk, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not that easy to offend. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. I’m a bit… too old for that, you know.”

And as if having a mild upper hand in this situation pumps Viktor with extra courage, he twists your chair back and rolls it close to his, until the sides of your thighs touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, then. I actually mean for the opposite of that,” he breathes and allows himself to glance over your lips, briefly. But you notice.

“Viktor?” you whisper, feeling an invisible force pulling you closer to his face. His arm extends over your legs, gripping the edge of your seat, and you feel the mild heat radiating off his body. You can smell his scent lingering in the space between you as you indulge in small glances at his eyes and lips.

“If you allow me, I could provide you with… some hands-on experience. Unless, of course, I am not—”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, and Viktor exhales into a relieved smile. He mumbles an “okay,” as if bracing himself, and closes the little distance left between you. His mouth presses against yours almost innocently as he takes your upper lip between his. His lips are soft and warm. It’s a long, lingering peck that has your eyes fluttering shut and a pool of heat blooming in your belly. You find yourself leaning into the kiss, your hips on the edge of the chair, to the point that your chests almost press against each other.

When he disconnects from you, it’s only to breathe against your mouth, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you say shakily, your lips brushing his. You open your eyes only to see a pretty pink blush splattered across his cheeks and ears. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he asks, “Would you like me to continue?”

“Please, continue,” you exhale, and something glints in Viktor’s eyes. Emboldened by your enthusiasm, he slides the hand gripping the stool to the back of your seat, pulling you closer until you can almost feel the flutter of his heart against yours as your chests meet. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, and oh, it’s the same gesture Jayce granted Mel that you’ve longed for so dearly, and you feel your skin prickling under Viktor’s touch.

His mouth is back on yours, this time the press is firmer, as he parts your lips with his tongue and—oh. Just oh, as your eyebrows knit together and the warmest of feelings floods your chest, making your hands jolt out to fist his vest, and you sigh the sweetest of sounds into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop there—the hand from the chair slides up your side, rests on your ribcage, fingers digging in when he—oh—also makes a sound. The hottest of sounds, a honey-dripping moan that makes you bite his lower lip, craving to eat him up with a long spoon.

And when he loses himself a bit—grunts and sighs into you, his hands wandering to rest at the base of your spine and cradle your cheek in a firm grip—you don’t even know how it happens, but you slide your hips to straddle his and press yourself down on him. To your delight, he has many more of those pretty sounds, some even forming something close to your name, making you melt into his arms.

When he pulls away, it’s only for an inch. “Oh, my,” Viktor mutters, rubbing his face against yours and kissing your neck. You like that too, but you already miss his hot tongue in your mouth. “A natural talent, I see,” he chuckles, and you blush even more at the thought of what he would say if he knew how much practice you’ve done on the crook of your fist alone in your room.

He looks up at you, all flustered and pretty, swiping his thumb across your glistening lip. He doesn’t know what’s come over him when he says, “If you wish to explore this further, I can offer my… expertise.” What he wants to say is that he’s been thinking about this too many times to count, leaving him flustered and pretty countless times before, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. So he just keeps looking at you expectantly, willing his mouth to shut.

“I would like that,” you mutter shyly, noticing how Viktor’s chest sags with relief. To think that he was there, willing and within your reach all this time makes you feel silly for all those times you stared at Jayce and Mel longingly. And you’re convinced you’ll continue to watch them—not with longing, but with anticipation for when they finally stroll off to their date, so you can sink your lips onto Viktor’s.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve couldn't believe he was doing this, but it was for Robin, and it was his day off. He literally had nothing better to do. He shouldered Robin's backpack and walked into the front office of Hawkins High. He grinned. Janice was still working at the front desk. He leaned against the counter and flashed her his best smile.

"Hey, Janice, those glasses look great on you. . .really slimming," Steve said, and she giggled, blushing. "I was hoping you could do me a favor. . ."

Steve didn't feel too guilty about using her weird little crush on him to get into Robin's classes and take notes for her. Janice looked down on anyone who wasn't a jock or a cheerleader. Steve thought about his life for a moment. . .God, it was pathetic that if he was so bored that he actually wanted to go back to school for a day. He nodded to a few people in the hallways and went to Robin's first class. It wasn't so bad. . .it was refreshing to catch up on what he had missed the first time. He didn't actually do any work. He just copied some notes. The second class wasn't so bad either, although people he didn't like kept trying to talk to him. The third class was far better. . .it was his favorite subject. He was surprised when he got to Robin's desk, and Eddie Munson sat next to him.

"Hey, Buckley, kiss any frogs - you're not Buckley," Eddie said.

"No, but I can understand the confusion, we do look alike," Steve said.

"You look nothing - yeah, you're fucking with me," Eddie said, narrowing his eyes at him. "What is King Steve doing gracing us with our presence?"

"Robin's sick. It's my day off, and she wanted me to take notes for her. I'd rather be here than be at home," Steve said. "What were you about to ask Robin?"

"Well, I was going to ask her if she kissed any frogs that turned into princes - princes. . .that turned into princes," Eddie said rather quickly. "Uh, it was an inside joke."

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. Steve was slow, but he wasn't that slow. Eddie had stumbled and put too much emphasis on princes. He was going to say princesses.

"You know," Steve hissed, lowering his voice.

"Of course, I know. She wrote it on her fucking shoes, man," Eddie whispered. "Everyone else is too caught up in their own shit to notice, but I sat right next to her. You know, too?"

"She's my best friend in the world, my platonic soulmate," Steve said. "Of course, I know."

"Platonic soulmate, huh?" Eddie grinned. "I think I have one of those."

"Really?" He asked.

"Her name's Ronnie," Eddie said.

"You're fucking with me," Steve grinned.

"I am not," Eddie laughed quietly. "She's up in New York studying to become a lawyer. Ronnie. Robin. Ronnie. Robin. Yeah, it's funny. . .we've been friends since we were eight. I once tried to kiss her because I thought it was the logical next step in our relationship. Silly me."

"No way, I tried to hit on Robin," Steve said with a grin.

"Well, we're both idiots," Eddie cackled.

"I'm not going to disagree," Steve said.

Steve wanted to say more, but the teacher hushed them, and they had no choice but to begin taking notes. Eddie leaned over casually, his big brown eyes pleading with him.

"If I go to sleep, can I borrow those notes?" Eddie asked innocently.

"Does Robin lend you her notes?" Steve asked.

"Yeeess," Eddie said, laying his chin on his hands, blinking at him, and Steve gave him a look. "Okay. So, no, she doesn't."

"Then why would I?" Steve asked.

"Because she's not the boss of you," Eddie said.

Steve looked at him and thought about it for a moment. No, it was clearly a trap.

"No," Steve said firmly.

"You're mean," Eddie pouted.

Steve smirked as Eddie began scribbling furiously in his notebook, muttering and looking over at him every so often. When the teacher was done, she handed out work for them to do in class. Steve took that up along with Robin's homework. While everyone else worked, he pulled out a book. He wasn't very far into the book when he noticed that Eddie was struggling. He leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Do you want some help?" He asked.

"You wouldn't help me before," Eddie said.

"I wouldn't help you skate by," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "But I can show you some tricks that helped me."

"By all means, my liege," Eddie said.

Steve scooted closer to him, and looking over Eddie's paper, he showed him easier ways to solve the problems. He could feel Eddie's eyes watching him, and he couldn't help but feel warm inside at the feeling of Eddie's gaze on him.

"Did you get all that?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I did," Eddie said, smiling softly. "You're pretty smart."

"Don't sound so surprised. The whole dumb jock thing is just a stereotype," Steve said.

"It's a shitty stereotype," Eddie said in realization.

"Definitely," Steve said. "Just like it's a shitty stereotype that people who play D&D worship the devil."

Eddie and Steve locked eyes. Hazel eyes peering into brown. . .there was a deep understanding there. . .that they weren't so different after all.

"So. . .why don't you want to be at home?" Eddie asked.

"My parents are there, and they're not exactly proud of me for not getting into college or working at a menial job instead of working for my asshole homophobic father," Steve whispered. "Plus, they'd rather not be around their queer son, so I get out of their hair when I can."

"You're. . .gay?" Eddie asked in surprise. "But all those girls. . .?"

"I didn't sleep with that many," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's such an exaggeration. And I'm bisexual. . .more than one gender for Steve Harrington."

"And you're telling me this why. . .?" Eddie asked, not unkindly.

"Because you get it, man," Steve replied.

"Oh, you mean because of Robin?" Eddie asked.

"Not just Robin, I mean, aren't you - ," Steve said and stopped when Eddie just looked at him. "Okay, I'm asshole. I just assumed - ,"

"Everyone does it," Eddie said. "I don't know why."

"Could be because of the way you represent the freaks and the outcasts. Most people assume the majority of them are queer but you'd surprised how many there are among the conservatives," Steve grinned. "But it also might be because of the hanky hanging out of your ass pocket."

"My hanky?" Eddie asked in confusion.

Steve leaned over and whispered in his ear to tell him about the code amongst people like him and Robin. Steve pulled back and watched his dumbfounded face.

"You okay, there?" He asked.

"Well, that makes total sense. . .I think I was actually fucking hit on a couple of times when I went out," Eddie said. "Honestly, I wear it because most metalheads do, plus it's useful. I mean, I've had sex a couple of times, but I've never done stuff like that. I mean, sure, I have handcuffs on my wall so I wouldn't be opposed to being chained up and spanked - ,"

"Mr. Munson!" The teacher yelled.

"Ooh, did I say that a little too loudly?" Eddie asked, and Steve snickered.

After class, Steve started walking to the next one while Eddie got chewed out by the teacher. It wasn't long before he heard someone call his name, and before he could turn around, he felt someone run into his back. He turned around, grabbing Eddie by the arms to steady him.

"Did you get in trouble?" Steve asked.

"Nah, I reminded him that he really shouldn't hit on his students," Eddie grinned. "Anyway. . .you want to sit with us at lunch?"

"Sure, Dustin will be thrilled," Steve said and Eddie laughed.

"I'm flattered by the way," Eddie said with a grin.

"By what?" Steve asked.

"By the fact that you thought I was queer. . .huge compliment," Eddie said. "And you're also, clearly in love with me. . .very flattered about that."

"I am not!" Steve scoffed.

"Sure, you're not," Eddie cackled.

They parted ways, and after fourth period, Steve met up with Dustin and Mike.

"This is so cool!" Dustin exclaimed. "Can you come to school with us everyday?"

"No, man," Steve laughed. "I got work."

"I bet you'd want to go to school with your mother," Mike teased.

"I would love to go to school with my mom. She's awesome!" Dustin yelled.

Steve laughed and placed his hand on Dustin's head, shaking it affectionately.

"I've been invited by your dungeon master to join you guys for lunch," Steve said.

"You spoke to Eddie?!" Dustin gasped.

"Yeah, and he's actually kind of. . .cool," Steve said.

"I told you!" Dustin exclaimed. "Mike, did you hear that?! He thinks Eddie's cool."

"I'm literally standing on his other side," Mike said. "And of course, Steve thinks Eddie's cool. Steve’s not stupid."

"Thanks, Mike," Steve grinned.

Steve followed them into the cafeteria, where they got their lunch, and then headed towards the Hellfire table. He glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on Lucas. Steve raised his eyebrows at him questioningly, and he shook his head. He turned back to the table, feeling disappointed, but he understood. Eddie was sitting at the head of the table with an empty chair next to him. His eyes caught Steve’s and he waved eagerly before slapping the chair next to him.

"I think he wants you to sit next to him," Mike said.

"I think so, too," Steve grinned in amusement.

Eddie really was cute. How he ever thought he was scary was beyond him. Steve adjusted Robin's backpack and walked over to the chair meant for him. He sat down in it, smiling, and Eddie quickly introduced everyone.

"Steve Harrington's really joining us for lunch?" Jeff asked.

"I told you. . .he's cool," Eddie said.

"Didn't you graduate?" Gareth asked.

"I'm taking notes and collecting homework for my friend, Robin," Steve replied.

"Couldn't you have just asked for the teachers to send everything to the front of office?" Jeff asked.

"Sure, but then I wouldn't be hanging out with you guys," Steve said.

"Oh my god," Jeff said, looking into his eyes. "You actually mean that."

"Look, I'm sorry for the other douchebags on the team who made you feel like all jocks are out to - ," Steve started to say.

"Your parents are home, aren't they?" Dustin asked, slamming down his tray for dramatic effect.

"Yeah," Steve shrugged.

"Shit, man, sorry," Mike asked. "I know your parents are total assholes."

"Do they know?" Eddie asked, leaning close to Steve to 'whisper'.

"We know," Dustin and Mike said together.

Eddie snapped his head to look at them. Steve snorted. He really needs to work on his whispering. Mike and Dustin's head snapped to look at each other.

"You know?" Mike and Dustin asked.

"Of course, I know!" Dustin and Mike exclaimed again.

Oops, did he forget to tell them that they knew?

"Steve dated my sister for a year. Whenever his parents were home, Steve had dinner with us and occasionally slept in the basement," Mike said. "He's always welcome around our house."

"I am?" Steve asked.

"Duh," Mike rolled his eyes. "Can't you tell that we care about you?"

"Have you looked at your face when you talk to people?" Jeff asked. "You and Gareth both are a couple of grumpy looking bears."

Before Mike could open his mouth to say something, a basketball came flying out of nowhere and landed on Dustin's tray. Food flew everywhere, including on Dustin. Steve scowled, and he quickly located the source. Jason Carver was laughing with a bunch of his friends. He turned away from the Hellfire table. Big fucking mistake. Eddie moved to get up, but Steve pushed him back down. He grabbed the basketball and judged the distance. Yeah, he could do it. Steve threw his arm back and tossed the basketball. He was pleased when it made a loud thunking sound as it hit Jason in the head. He stumbled into his friends' arms as the cafeteria gasped. Jason whirled around and glared at Steve.

"You might want to keep an eye on your balls, Carver, you don't want to lose them," Steve said.

"Pathetic, Harrington," Jason said. "At least I'm not a disappointment to my family name."

"Yeah, finds someone who gives a shit, Carver, because I don't. At the end of the day, it doesn't fucking matter," Steve said. "You don't scare me. I've seen bigger pieces of shit than you. However, if you go after my kids again. . .I'm going to make you piss your fucking pants. All it takes is a few phone calls."

Steve stared Carver down, his eyes narrowed. At first, it didn't seem like he was going to call him on his bluff, but then Carver huffed and yanked his friends back down with him. Steve sat down to find the entire table, looking at him in shock.

"Holy shit," Gareth breathed with wide eyes.

"Uh. . .sorry, did I make that worse for you guys?" Steve asked.

"I mean, probably, but it was so fucking metal," Jeff said.

"It totally was," Dustin beamed and even Mike couldn't stop from grinning.

Steve looked over at Eddie to find him looking at him wide eyes, his mouth open in awe of him.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" Steve asked and waved a hand in front of his face.

"He gets like this sometimes," Jeff said, looking at Eddie in confusion. "Although, I didn't think he'd get like this over you. Give him a minute."

"Okay. . .here, Dustin, you can have my lunch," Steve said and began cleaning up the mess.

"Thanks, Steve, but I'll go get a new one," Dustin said. "Eat yours."

By the time Dustin came back with a new tray, Eddie snapped out of it. . .whatever it was.

"Fucking metal," Eddie breathed. "Are you an angel?"

"Definitely not," Steve said with a smirk.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER. . .

"I still can't believe it. I was joking when I told you to sub in for me," Robin said.

They were currently at Family Video, even though it was closed. It was inventory day, and they were both stuck with the job.

"I was bored, Robin, and my parents were home!" Steve exclaimed.

"You went in my place and fell in love with a straight man," Robin said. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry for you."

"Oh, you should also know that I flirted with Vickie for you," Steve said.

"WHAT?!" Robin shrieked and almost dropped the tapes. "Steven Robin Harrington, I swear - ,"

"Relax, Robin Steven Buckley, I was fucking with you," Steve said. "A little sympathy for my plight wouldn't kill you, you know?"

"Asshole," Robin said, but she was smiling slightly. "Have you tried talking to him?"

"Yeah, but he keeps running away from me. He once zig zagged through the entire school parking lot, screaming," Steve sighed. "I think I freaked him out with my sexuality."

"If he's okay with me, then he should be okay with you," Robin said.

"Robin. . .you know that's not exactly true. You know there's people within our own community who don't accept people like me. You remember what happened when we visited that gay bar. That guy accused me of pretending to be gay and said there's no such thing as bisexuality," Steve said. "And his friend agreed, but he said that I was a confused gay man. He told me that it was okay to be myself while rejecting who I am! How the fuck does that work?"

"Yeah, that was fucked up. I didn't know who to punch first. . .okay, so, you have a point, but maybe he's freaking out about something else," Robin said and sighed. "And if he is being like that, then I'll dismember him slowly while he's still alive and then let him bleed out."

"You'd do that for me?" Steve asked.

"Of course, you're my dingus," Robin said, stroking his hair. "And I expect you to do the same."

"Of course," Steve scoffed and then paused. "You know, Dustin said he left town last weekend. I mean, he came back, but he wouldn't say where he went."

"Yeah, this is definitely something else," Robin said. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, and when I get back, I fully expect all these negative thoughts to be gone."

"How long have you known me?" Steve scoffed.

"Surprisingly less than a year," Robin said.

"It feels like we've known each other our whole lives," Steve said.

"I know," Robin said fondly and then disappeared into the back.

Steve knelt on the floor and tried to focus on the inventory, but his thoughts went back to Eddie. It took one day for Steve to screw that up. . .although he couldn't figure out how he screwed it up. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a tapping on the door. Steve sighed and stood up.

"Can't you read the sign? We're closed - Eddie," Steve froze when he saw Eddie standing at the door, his hands in his pockets.

Eddie pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and waved awkwardly. Steve looked at him for a moment, studying him. Eddie's big brown eyes looked apologetic and guilty. Steve sighed and moved to the door before letting him in. Eddie slid past him, and he closed the door behind him, locking it back. Steve crossed his arms and looked at him expectantly.

"Hey," Eddie said awkwardly.

"Hey," Steve said. "Is that all you have to say or are you going to run away from me again?"

"No. . .no, definitely not. I've just been struggling with something, and I haven't been able to deal with it. I decided to go up and visit Ronnie. We talked about it for a long time," Eddie said pausing. "We've finally come to the conclusion that I've been struggling with the whole bisexuality thing."

"Well, I'm sorry that my sexuality bothers you," Steve said, angrily. "And if you can't tell, that was sarcasm. . .go fuck yourself."

"Fuck! No! That's - ," Eddie was interrupted by a loud scream.

Robin dove over the counter and tackled Eddie to the ground. Eddie shrieked.

"PREPARE TO DIE!" Robin yelled.

"No! No! I'm the same! I'm the same!" Eddie yelled as Robin slapped him, and then she took a box cutter out of her pocket. "I'M BISEXUAL, I'M BISEXUAL!"

Robin dropped the box cutter, but she remained on top of Eddie, frozen.

"Pardon?" She asked.

"That's what I was struggling with. . .my own sexuality. . .ever since Steve threw that ball at Jason Carver," Eddie said. "And I didn't know what I was feeling, so I didn't know how to talk to you so I did what I always fucking do when I get scared. . .I ran."

"Well, this was a rather awkward breakdown in communication," Robin said and got up, helping Eddie. "Thank God, I didn't want to have to kill you. I mean, we have the means to make a body disappear, but I did not want to go through it. Good luck, Steve."

Eddie watched as she disappeared into the back again and he looked back at Steve, his eyes comically wide.

"What the fuck did she mean by that? You can make a dead body disappear? Steve, what did she mean by that?" Eddie asked.

"Never mind about that," Steve laughed. "Tell me more about you realizing you're bisexual because of me."

"Okay, but we're going to come back to that other thing. . .right?" He asked.

"Eddie, focus," Steve said.

"Well, I mean, that's pretty much it," Eddie said. "I like you. . .a lot."

"I like you a lot, too," Steve replied.

"Now what?" Eddie asked.

"Well, this is usually the part where we - "

" - fuck?" He asked.

"I was going to say kiss," Steve laughed. "But I like that your mind leaped frogged to that, but I'm pretty sure that Robin would kill us."

"Damn straight!" They heard Robin yell, and then she laughed. "HA! Get it? Because none of us are. . .Goddamnit, I'm hanging out with Dustin too much."

"Right, so kiss?" Eddie asked.

Steve laughed, cupped the back of his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. Eddie froze before melting into it, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. He deepened the kiss as Steve wrapped his arms around his neck, enjoying the way his lips moved against his. . .so soft and plump. God, Steve wanted to kiss him forever. Eddie pulled away, leaning his forehead against his.

"I'm sorry, I should have worded that better," Eddie said. "And I shouldn't have run away from you. . .in one single day, you turned my life upside down. . .although, I guess I've been struggling with my feelings for a long time. According to Ronnie, you're not the first man I flirted with."

"I didn't always know about myself either, so it's okay, Eddie, I get it," Steve said. "You're here now."

Steve buried his head into his shoulder and hugged him tightly. Never would he have been so grateful that his platonic soulmate had gotten the flu or that his parents had been home. . .It's funny how life works out like that.

[heartsforjh]

reader having big crowd anxiety and qhughes picking up on it leading her through the crowd? 🥲

here you go nonnie! i hope you like! :)

main masterlist | 100 follower celly masterlist

As your boyfriend opens the door for you, a wave of loud talking and laughter hits you immediately. It always amazes you how many people come to these events for Quinn’s work. It’s easy to forget the amount of effort that goes into those fun little games on ice.

You step inside, glancing around as the herd of people closest to the door turns toward you. Naturally, their gaze lingers on Quinn—and then shift to you, standing right beside him. Quinn waves to a few people as the two of you move deeper into the room.

“We’ve gotta find the guys. They’re around here somewhere,” Quinn says, scanning the room.

You nod quickly. Surely being around familiar faces will help ease the nerves that are already starting to build up from all of the attention.

You squeeze his hand, trying to focus on the warmth and pressure of his grip as he holds yours. “Yeah, let’s find them.”

He leads you through the bustling crowd until he eventually spots Elias Pettersson and Conor Garland.

“Hey, you two,” Conor greets, pulling both you and Quinn in for hugs, with Petey following suit.

Quinn’s hand finds its place on your waist as he settles into conversation with his friends. You chime in here and there when something catches your interest, the comfort of their company gradually putting you at ease.

For a while, you feel better, laughing and chatting with the small group. But that changes the second your purse slips from your hand and falls to the ground with a thud. Instinctively, you look around to see if anyone notices, expecting a few fleeting glances.

Your stomach drops when you’re reminded just how many people are around, and they’re all staring. Not just glancing, but staring. Why are they staring? Their eyes linger, waiting—maybe for you to pick it up. The pit in your stomach grows as you start wondering what they might be thinking.

Your chest immediately tightens. The room feels louder and everyone seems closer. When did they get so close? Your chest moves up and down rapidly, desperately trying to get a full breath, but the air gets stuck in your throat.

“Babe, you okay?” Quinn’s voice cuts through the haze, grounding you.

You blink, and suddenly the world is back in focus. He’s holding your purse, having picked it up amidst your small panic.

“I’m- I’m fine,” you stammer, unconvincingly.

Quinn’s eyes search yours, concern etched across his face. “You’re shaking, sweetheart.” His tone is gentle, careful not to draw any more unwanted attention to you.

“I told you—I’m okay,” you insist, but your body betrays you with a slight sway.

Quinn sighs softly, placing his hands on your hips to steady you. “Well, this isn’t okay with me. Come on, let’s go talk.”

Taking your hand, he quietly leads you out of the crowded party room and into the hallway.

Once outside, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, trying to calm your racing heart. “Quinn, we don’t have to do this. We should go back in—this is for your job.”

“Y/n, baby, we can go if that’s what you need. It’s just a New Year’s party. We’ll do our own New Years at home,” he assures you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You sigh, guilt creeping in. “I just feel selfish. You’re the face of the Canucks—people are going to stare. You shouldn’t have to miss this just because I’m… freaking out.”

Quinn shakes his head, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. “You don’t have to get used to anything. You’re dealing with something, and that’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. Besides, I can’t enjoy this if I know my girl’s struggling, can I?”

His words melt some of your worries, and a small smile breaks through. “No, I guess not.”

“Also,” he adds with a small grin, “between you and me, I didn’t want to come to this thing anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Wow, so you’re just using me as an excuse to ditch?!”

“What? No! That’s not what I was trying to say! I meant—” his eyes widen, and he fumbles over his words, making you giggle.

“You know what I meant!” he huffs, shaking his head. “You’re a jerk.”

“It was just a joke!” you tease, still laughing as you walk towards the exit with him, hand-in-hand.

Quinn gives a small, dramatic pout. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“I’m not mean to you! I was kidding!” you repeat while laughing even more at his reaction.

Secretly, he’s overjoyed to hear you laughing, even if it is at his expense. He’d gladly let himself be the punchline to your jokes as long as he gets to hear that favorite sound of his.

tags: @beenucks @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @azure-dawn81 @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86 @ccomandercody @macklin-celebrini-71 @randomcuboidshape @when-im-with-you @quillycrow @rainyvalentines @alwaysclassyeagle

join the taglist here! :)

[overadores]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ shifting heart ୨ৎ megan skiendiel

What we have is immortal

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 mystique!megan x quicksilver!reader ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 headcanons!

.ᐟ cw: , injuries, violence, childhood friends to lovers, kissing

Hello, Dear. Did someone call for a rescue?

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan where as kids, you two were inseparable—partners in crime, always exploring, always dreaming, but while she shapeshifted with ease, your powers remained dormant. one rainy afternoon, seeing you frustrated, she transformed into famous heroes, pulling silly impressions. "Maybe you're a late bloomer," she grinned, shifting into you perfectly. "but power or not, you're already special." her words stuck, and as you laughed through the gloom, hope flickered—because if she believed in you, maybe you could too.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan where she knew the weight in your heart, the ache left by a mother long gone. so, when the world felt too heavy, when even speed couldn’t outrun the pain, she shifted—soft eyes, familiar warmth, the arms you missed. "It’s okay, my love," she whispered, stroking your hair, "I’ve got you." In that moment, she wasn’t just Mystique. she was comfort, home—a fleeting illusion, yet the only truth you needed and for now, that was enough.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan who always looked out for you, even when your speed first kicked in and left you crashing into walls then one day, she shifted into Logan, arms crossed, gruff expression and all, standing at the end of the field. “Alright, hotshot. try again.” You sprinted—too fast, too soon—and tripped, but before you could hit the ground, she caught you effortlessly. “Told you I got you,” she smirked, shifting back. you laughed breathlessly. “Yeah, yeah. Show-off.”

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan where she plays hide and seek with you, but she changes into someone that's not inside the room and you would get frustrated, so you just let her win (she just loves winning).

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan who started falling for you when the two of you started training for x-men.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan who has a bad habit of shifting into you just to mess with the others, and today was no different. she had snuck up on Sophia, making her shriek and nearly drop whatever she was carrying and by the time you walked in, Megan was back to her normal self, lounging on the sofa, barely holding in her laughter. Suddenly, Sophia stormed toward you, yelling, "Don’t scare me again!" You just stood there, utterly baffled, while Megan cackled uncontrollably.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan that shifts into that person whenever she gets jealous and asks if you like them (which you always answer no.)

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan where the two of you are the unstoppable duo on the battlefield. while others strategized, you two simply moved—fluid, instinctive, lethal. you’d sprint ahead in a blur, disorienting enemies before she shifted right in front of them, striking with precision. they never saw it coming. whether it was infiltration or all-out combat, you and her always had each other’s backs, wordlessly syncing like a perfectly executed plan.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan as you geared up for the dangerous mission with Logan, Megan found you in the dimly lit corridor, her usual confidence replaced by nervous energy. "Just in case," she murmured, voice softer than you'd ever heard it, "I need you to know—I like you." And for once, you were speechless. She laughed, shaking her head. "Figures. You never shut up until now." A beat passed before you grinned. "Guess I’ll have to come back, then."

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan where she taught you how to play games whenever there's no mission.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan who loves messing with you, shifting into Charles, Erik, or even Logan just to get a reaction, but you were always one step ahead. "Spell 'necessary,'" you would say, arms crossed. her—still in disguise—would huff, mumbling, "N-e-s-e...s...a—ugh!" you smirked. "Nice try, babe." defeated, Mystique morphed back, pouting. "One day, I'll get you." you only chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Not if your spelling doesn't improve first." And despite the teasing, she secretly loved that you always knew her.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan when she saw you go down, a sharp cry escaping her lips. the shot to your arm sent you tumbling near a wrecked car, motionless. panic surged through her veins as she shifted into an unassuming bystander, rushing to your side. dragging you behind cover, she pressed a hand to your wound. “Stay with me,” she whispered.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan who swayed to the rhythm, completely lost in her own world, her movements fluid and full of joy. she twirled, oblivious to your quiet presence by the door. as she struck a final pose, you clapped. she yelped, spinning around with wide eyes. “You’re back early,” she muttered, cheeks flushed and you just smiled.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan who loves cuddling you after every mission.

‧₊˚ ⋅ mystique!megan grabbed you collar, crashing her lips against yourss in a desperate, bruising kiss. it was raw, filled with unspoken fears and unacknowledged goodbyes. when she pulled away, her voice wavered. "Just in case." and you smiled at her softly, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "I'll be back before you even miss me."

a/n: i enjoyed making this lmao (always love childhood friends to lovers trope)

[revelboo]

I see that you have written for rumble, may I ask if you plan to do the same for frenzy if possible? (If you have I’m blind and didn’t see it- 😭)

Also I love how you write, there’s always so much detail!

-✨💜💫

Thank you! Rumble and Frenzy are sharing a human

Pretty much 🤣

Alcohol Eyes Pt 11

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Neck craning so you can see the human in the giant blue alien’s hand staring down at you in surprise, it’s actually a relief to see another human. Because they look okay, not like they’re being held against their will and terrified. And the one that looks like a clone of Thundercracker is still laughing. Making it apparent none of the other giant aliens had a clue what your two were up to. And the one they’d called boss is cuddling that other human to his face like they’re a little kitten he’s found. Do the big guys keep humans as pets then? Wait. What if your guys are young those guys? Paling, you really hope you didn’t just corrupt a couple of horny, alien teenagers.

• Hooking his arm around you, Rumble stands his ground as Soundwave just stares down at him. While cupping Starscream’s human to his face. What exactly had they missed? Because, sure, the boss had been a bit soft on the Seeker’s pet human, but this looks like something else entirely. “You look a bit busy, so we’ll circle back,” Rumble says, nudging you towards Soundwave’s quarters. Is the boss fragging Starscream’s human? Can’t be. The Seeker doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone. ‘You’re adults, right?’ You ask him and he almost misses a step. “Yeah. Why?”

• Offering Starscream one of your human hand gestures as he walks backwards after you and his brother, Frenzy grins when the Seeker abruptly stops Iaughing with a growl. “All in all, I think that went well.” Jogging to catch up and hook an arm around your other side as they walk away, Frenzy snickers when Thundercracker looks at the other two, back at him and just decides he’s done. Bending to set your stuff in the hallway and walking off with his hands thrown up. “Think our moving guy just quit.”

• “Why’d you ask if we’re adults? Don’t we act mature?” Rumbles asks as Frenzy hauls you closer to him with a laugh. ‘What did I just miss?’ Frenzy growls nipping at your neck and jaw as Rumble signals the door open. And you’re almost immediately set upon by Rumble and Frenzy sized alien animals. Talking alien animals. Apparently your guys have siblings. Or pets. A lot of them as you’re surrounded and they bombard Rumble and Frenzy in worried tones. And you’re realizing you need to start asking questions. So many questions. Because you really have no idea what you’ve agreed to by coming home with them.

• “Is the boss fragging Starscream’s human?” Rumbles asks Ravage. Hearing Lazerbeak laugh at that as his brother wings over to land on his shoulder startling you. And even Buzzsaw and Ratbat have come out of hiding even if Ratbat is quiet and sullen as always. Angry at the world. ‘Soundwave thinks we don’t know, but he’s not the only one keeping secrets, is he?’ Lazerbeak asks, head tipping to study you. ‘Secrets for secrets,’ Ravage adds, brushing against him and you, sharp denta bared.

Previous

[neeeooon]

heyyy can you do blue lock guys with reader who adjusts with any situation without complaints or making demands because reader thinks they don't deserve their love? For example, if the guys cancel dates, forget an important date or can't make enough time for them. I hope you understand what I'm trying to say lolol 😭

okay i think i got it but i struggled a bit so if not pls lmk 😭🙏 thank you for the request!

when you go with the flow ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

itoshi sae

-> “where are you going?” “out. i’ll be back later. do you need something?” “… no, i’m good. have fun!”

-> you shouldn’t be surprised that sae forgot your anniversary, but it still hurt

-> sae appears at your door an hour later with flowers and a wary smile. “… i’m sorry i forgot our anniversary. i know it’s late notice, but can i still take you to dinner?”

yukimiya kenyu

-> “i can cancel, y/n, i don’t mind—“ “no, don’t cancel! we can go out some other time.”

-> you were not about to let your boyfriend miss a doctor’s appointment, even if it meant having to cancel your date

-> you didn’t mind waiting, but kenyu suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. “do you want to come with me?” you smile was genuine as you said, “yes.”

barou shouei

-> “i’m sorry, y/n. maybe next week?” “that’s okay! really, i don’t mind :)”

-> you do mind. you just refuse to complain about it to barou because you feel unworthy of his love

-> thankfully, he’s not an idiot. “no, it’s not okay. i promised you we’d go out today, so we’re going out today.” “i really don’t mind waiting—“ “they can wait.” “… okay <3”

kiyora jin

-> “is it okay if we hang out next week instead?” “… sure! everything okay?” “yeah, just dance stuff. i’ll text you.”

-> you were used to getting blown off like this, but you didn’t mind. just getting to call kiyora your boyfriend was enough for you

-> the next time he had practice, you didn’t ask where he was going. “y/n?” “yeah?” “… do you want to come with me?” you try to keep your excitement contained. “yeah!”

nagi seishiro

-> “i’m tired. can we call instead?”

-> you sighed but responded that it was fine. nagi sent back a simple “:)” and the date ended there

-> on your call, you were listening to nagi talk about his game when he suddenly got quiet. “… does it hurt your feelings when i’m tired?” “sometimes? but there are times where i feel like i don’t deserve you, so even this is enough for me :)” “… okay.”

[treatbuckywkisses]

The yearning and tension are so well written:( this made my tummy hurt in the best way😭😭 all mixed in with a very enticing side story this was so incredible it felt like I was really there in the room !!!! 

     Your stomach twisted at the words, the culpability of your actions threatening to eat away at it. Even after everything you said, even after running away from him and deserting him at the fair, he still only wanted to know you were safe. There were so many things you wanted to say. Nothing, however, was a good enough response in your mind. There was nothing you could say that wouldn’t leave a door open for more. No matter what you told him it would either crush his heart or give him hope.      You didn’t dare do either. :( when we start with the angst it really gets me😭 the last part of this is SO good 

     Natasha sighed, her lips in a tight line,” Y/n, you’re joking right? You two have already been something more to each other for a long time now. Please, none of us are blind to how you two favor each other over the rest of us.” You took a second to let her words sink in. idiots in love 💕 I'm a SUCKER 

     But in this case, it was okay, because at least in this case you were the bad guy. You were the heartbreaker and everyone can hate you. No one has to pick sides because you made it easy for them to choose Bucky, and you were okay with that.  baby:( this paragraph punched me in the gut so hard

     Bucky was one of those people. When your eyes locked as you looked out into the sea of the trial audience he sent you a small smile and gave you an encouraging nod. That was all you needed to knock your closing statement out of the park. UGH WHEN IS THE LOVE COMING I'M SICK THEY ARE SO IDIOTS IN LOVE😭😭

     “You’re scared of things changing, but can't you see they already did?” iconic nat always so smart

     There was a slight shifting sound on the other side of the door before he spoke, “Look, these past few weeks I tried really hard to push my feelings away, but I was only getting more frustrated with myself. In pushing my feelings away, I pushed you away and I don’t want that. I miss you,” his voice broke toward the end and he paused before continuing, “I want you—no, I need you to be a part of my life even if it's just as friends. Y/n, don't think for one second I regret taking you on that date because I don’t, but I can’t keep going on acting like we don’t know each other anymore.” shutup im crying:( this is sooooo precious:(((((( my heart is HURTING for him

     You were in love with Detective James Buchanan Barnes. GOOD YES FINALLY😭😭😭😭 IT'S LIKE I CAN BREATHE AGAIN

      The cookies were to sweeten up your apology, which was a long thought-out one you wrote in the notes app on your phone before going to bed. It could honestly rival any speeches you had ever given in court. so relatable (I live in my notes app) 

     The apologies, the loneliness, the anger, the sadness, the frustration, and everything in between melted away leaving only the love that was blossoming between you two behind. I love angst with a happy ending ( this made me physically ill and if I didn't read love soon I would DIE ) this is so cute I love them: ( even though it hurt

love them love you🫶🏻

Conflict of Interest - II

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: After deserting Bucky at the fair, you are left dealing with the consequences. This becomes difficult as you are all assigned to a new case. 

Word Count: 8.5k

Warning(s): crime show level of violence / homicide investigation details / drinking / angst / fluff / mentions of a car accident and injuries, but no major details / slight cursing / anxiety / overthinking / insecurities / lots of back and forth / misunderstandings / angst with a happy ending 

a/n: It has been a while, but part 2 of this beautiful duo is finally out! ❤️ I hope the length of part 2 can make up for how long it took me to finally finish writing it. It’s angsty with a happy ending, although the happy ending doesn’t come so easily. 👀 Thank you for reading! ❤️ Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! 💕

➵ Prequel Drabble // ➵ Part I 

     You tossed and turned in your bed once more, the sunlight peeking through your blinds, disturbing your sleep. The events of last Saturday weighed heavy on you. So much so, that you hadn’t gone to work in the past two days—today would be the third. You claimed you came down with the flu, putting on the best performance you could when Natasha called you. You were never able to lie to her face, but over the phone wasn’t as hard. Eventually, however, you would have to go back. 

     Eventually, you would have to face him. 

     Bucky called you a few times that night after you deserted him at the fair. The guilt set in almost immediately and you were too ashamed to answer him. You managed to read one message before silencing all of the notifications on your phone.

     Can you at least let me know you got home safely?

Keep reading

[plutosillywrites]

imagine plus size!reader going to the bar for a date— just to get to stood up.. but that’s okay, 141 is there for their night out, and could never say no to a pretty bird like you.

(i hope u like this nonsense :3)

you’ve never had much luck with dating, which you think for the most part you’re okay with, sometimes it just doesn’t work out when you think it will— but it does sting when all of your friends are snatched up and engaged or dating.

it leaves you asking if there’s something wrong with you— which you know is not true, but when you are so crushingly rejected every single time, you get sick of it.

and tonight, god you hope it’s different. you had been chatting up some pretty guy, and he was nice— attentive even, and you aren’t ugly by any means.your curves are to die for, the way your tummy is seen in dresses, and how your thighs and ass look in some good jeans— maybe you have a few more fat rolls than the average person, and your body held a plump look. but you looked damn fine with it too..

the cellulite— the hair, the skin. practically flawless, and as you slipped on your black dress with pearl accessories, and a beautiful vintage black bag. you were ready to go—

you slip your heels on, grab your keys and you’re out the door. locking your apartment door behind you (god forbid you forget again like that one time. you’ll always miss your good mixer that the thief stole.)

the walk there is quite nice, your date having asked you to meet up at a jazz club nearby, which was only a 10 minute walk.

you walk towards the front door of the place, bright LED letters adorned the top of the building. ‘THE JAZZ ROOM.’ it’s a nice, quaint place.

as you step inside the sound of the sax and sweet singing voice draws you in, you smile at the song being sung— and make way towards the bar, waiting patiently for your date.

what you don’t see however, is how 4 men sat back in their seats to get a better look at you as you walked in. johnny is the first to say something— “Fucking gorgeous ain’t she.” — the others hum in agreement.

you twiddle your thumbs, sipping on a fruity cocktail because— of course you can’t shoot whiskey, it’s been 25 minutes since you got here— you even showed up 5 minutes late.

you laugh, but not one filled with joy, one filled with disbelief. “i think im just gonna delete tinder. it doesn’t work— stupid apps never do.” youre mumbling as youre finishing off your drink, and fanning down the bartender.

johnny claps his hands, and goes to stand. “i think pretty bonnie over ‘er got stood up. blokes missing out— it’s alright though, i’ll go and swoop her up.” he shuffles out of the booth, the others make no move to disagree but simon chimes in by saying, “you better tell ‘er how fucking gorgeous she looks tonigh’. “

johnny then makes his way towards the empty seat beside you. the 3 men sit and watch— they trust johnny to woo you over, he’s just too good with words.

you ask the bartender for another cocktail, and as you go to take a sip you hear a gruff scottish voice from beside you. “what’s a pretty bonnie like you doing here alone?” you turn, and wow.

the man has a mohawk, and the most stunning blue eyes you have ever seen. he’s got a smile that has a warmth churning up inside— why is he staring at you like your the only girl in the world? and why does it feel so good??

“oh— uhm,, haha..” you trail off, “it’s a funny story, really.” you fiddle with the fruit on a toothpick in your drink, “i’m supposed to be on a date, but uhm.. he didn’t end up showing.” you grimace a bit, taking a large sip.

“well, he’s a bloody idiot.” the man says, he leans closer, resting his head on his hand. “my names johnny, you wouldn’t mind if i took his spot as your date, would’ya?”

a handsome, muscular man with a hot accent asking to be YOUR date? yeah, you’re not saying no to that! you smile, laughing so quiet johnny almost didn’t catch it under the music.

“no, i wouldn’t.. i’d prefer if you did.” you scoot your barstool closer, and tell him your name, your hand resting on the table dangerously close to his.

“you look stunning tonight, love.” he breathes out, he intertwines his fingers with yours, “fucking breathtaking— had my eyes glued to you since you walked in ‘ere.”

you look at him quickly, he’d watched you since you walked in? “you like what you saw that much?” you questioned with a frown, and his smile only grew. “fuck yes, and not just me—“ he leans you can see the rest of the group.

their eyes are hungry; with something else mixed in, and you can’t quite tell if its passion or lust. “—my whole team thinks you’re the prettiest girl in this whole place.”

your body goes slack just slightly, before letting a smile creep onto your face, resting your hand on johnny’s knee you leaned close to his ear.. “well, it’s rude to keep people waiting.. isn’t it?” you whispered.

“you’re right as rain, bonnie. why don’t we join them?” johnny mumbles back, already standing and tugging you near their table, his hand wrapped around your waist…

pt 2!! https://www.tumblr.com/plutosillywrites/775073803823890432/part-2-of-plus-sized-reader-who-gets-swooped-up

(an: johnny i love you. i love you and you just don’t know it.)

[bbina]

you have been avoiding wonbin like the goddamn plague

ignoring all his texts, calls and everything else in between ever since that incident that you've been trying so hard to forget about though somehow his words play in your mind like a broken record. a constant reminder

friends.

you hope that wonbin hasn't caught on with your avoidance but you know better. he knows you like the back of his hand. he's bound to question why you were avoiding him

currently you were hanging out with seunghan at some cafe near the campus

"hm, boyfriend not available?" seunghan says, settling down the drinks on your table

"haha. very funny" you say sarcastically, grabbing your drink from his hands. "how many times do i have to say he's not my boyfriend"

seunghan laughs, "yeah right. my bad i meant the friend that you kiss, isn't available"

you grumbled as you glare at seunghan

"what? it's not a secret, right? i mean you two are practically almost together everyday... until recently" seunghan shrugs, pointing out the obvious

heol.. how did he know?

"just been busy recently. nothing much to it if you're implying something.." you brush him off. if anything it would've been a little better if he would just drop the topic

seunghan watches you for a moment. he can literally see the gears turning on your head as you try to come back with some excuse but he sees right through you

"you know, wonbin has been with chaewon a lot recently" seunghan brings up

your eye twitches at the mention of chaewon. you try to keep your expression neutral in case seunghan decides to stir shit up again

"so?" you raise an eyebrow, "he can hang out with anyone else. i'm literally hanging out with you too" you point out

seunghan leans back on the cushioned seats, sipping on his drink. you were just too damn obvious or maybe seunghan just knows you enough to see through your bullshit

"really?" seunghan tilts his head to the side, giving you a look, "that's all you're going to say?"

your eyebrows furrow. what is he implying?

"what else is there to say? i keep telling you. we're just friends" you mumbled, trying to ignore that feeling in your stomach

the words itself tastes bitter in your mouth

seunghan gives you one more look before he drops the subject

"okay miss girl. if you say so... now lets talk about my project!" he chuckles, grabbing his laptop from his bag. you let out a sigh of relief that seunghan didn't press on much further

now the only thing you have to worry about for now is how much longer can you avoid wonbin

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . just us two

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚｡

꩜ notes .ᐟ i lowkey feel like this story would be better written type shit but idk

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @peterm4rker @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @ennycutie @sa3ha @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

[blue-jisungs]

hi!!!!! congrats on 8k!!! u deserve it so much ur writing is so amazing<3 for the little ask game, although it's not a word in your list, i thought about cats + piwon's jongseob!! i love cats, he loves cats and i love him so it's a Great combination in my opinion eheh if u dont wanna write w that word it's okay! and i choose glasses from ur list instead :3 thank u so much and i hope ur exams go well!!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ THIS CAT LIKES HEAD SCRATCHES ! 🧸ྀི — you discover that your boyfriend resembles a cat … wbk though :3 ( wc 957 )

[ extras ] coffee mention + i decided to mention the glasses prompt and i had those ones in mind hehe 🙏 he just looked so cute wtf:(

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! AHHHH TYSM I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!!! thank u for the req bc it was really fun to write and i believe it’s my first seobi work too 🥹 i hope you enjoy it hehe <3 and my exams went well!!! tysm hehe <3 i still have one more to take but !! its gonna be okay i believe 🙏

@kstrucknet = ^-^ =

the wind is gentle against your face when you leave the coffee shop, and you wrap your scarf a little tighter around your neck. jongseob pulls you aside, not to block the entrance, and dives into his bag to look for headphones. you hold his drink and take a small sip. 

the vanilla flavor explodes on your tongue and you just grin, taking another sip of the sweet beverage. maybe he won’t notice–

“it’s a bit too sweet, to be honest. do you want to finish it?” he asks and you realize he’s been watching you, gaze amused from behind his glasses. the red oval frames cutely frame his face, almost distracting from the fact that you just got caught. 

“no, you can have it” you sigh and trade. he hands you one earphone, you give him the drink back. (it wasn’t too sweet, really. jongseob just said that so you could finish it without feeling guilty). you accept the earphone and put it in your left ear, grabbing his hand. 

“do you want to watch something once we get back?” he asks softly before putting on one of his rap playlists. you pucker your lips in thought and miss the way he smiles fondly at the sight.

“maybe… i still have to finish that one kdrama my friend recommended but i don’t really feel like it’ you say and start your journey back to the dorm. 

the music isn’t playing too loud - despite the energetic tune and some… unusual lyrics, it serves as a background to your conversation. jongseob intertwines fingers with yours, seeking a little more warmth on the chilly day. 

“maybe we can rewatch the maze runner…?” he offers and you just scoff. your boyfriend takes another sip of his vanilla cappuccino and hides a smile behind the cup. 

“again?” you laugh at the ridiculosity. “i’d rather watch… oh, i know! i know!” 

jongseob halts, the impact almost making you trip. 

“let’s watch old harmony adventure eps! please, please, please…! they are so funny… well, you are but…” you stop and trace where his gaze is. 

a cat. 

“wait, i want to take a picture” he hums and looks for his phone. the moment it’s in his hand, it almost gets yanked from the impact of you kneeling down. and the plugged earphone– 

jongseob manages to catch it and lets out a sigh of relief, your earphone dangling in the air. he started taking pictures of the brown colored feline hiding in the bushes. 

“how did you even notice it?” you ask, gently tapping your nails against the concrete to lure the cat.

“i just have a cat radar” he smirks and squats next to you, joining in your scheme. 

the cat’s big green eyes track your movements. jongseob looks around and notices a bin. 

“i’m just gonna finish it and throw it out” he says and drinks the coffee, doing as he said. 

meanwhile you successfully lure the cat, the feline approaching you carefully. it sniffs your hand, soft nose poking your skin. jongseob observes with a proud smile. 

the cat plops on its back, showing its white belly to you. 

with a loud whine, you start to pat its belly.

“seob, oh my god!” you mumble, pout forming on your lips. the fur is soft beneath your palm and your boyfriend joins you again, his hand petting the cat’s head. 

“do you think we can steal it?” he asks, hopeful sparkle in his eye. 

you bite your lip, looking at him. 

“i’m really gullible, you should stop making offers like that” you laugh and he just snickers, hand moving to pat its belly too. your fingers occasionally bump into each other, the cat’s loud purring making you chuckle. 

“no, really, what’s stopping us…?” your boyfriend mumbles to himself, adoring the pet’s happy face. 

“jongseob!” you whine, moving to scratch the cat’s chin. it stretches a bit, throwing its head back to give you better access to its chin and neck. “just like you…”

“i don’t purr” he grunts “and i am not a cat”

“mhm…” you decide to ignore his meows of protest “also, i think this cat isn’t a stray. it’s a little too friendly. and it’s cute underbelly tells me its being fed good at home”

“eh, you’re right” jongseob grunts and pats the white belly for the last time “let’s keep going then. before it’s too late”

“too late for what?” you ask, tilting your head. he just opens his bag widely, pretending as if he’s going to swoop the cat in. 

the street fills with your laughters and the cat stands up, startled. jongseob helps you stand up and dusts off your knees while you wave at the cat. 

“bye, kitty” you hum and grab your boyfriend’s hand again. and as you try to persuade him into watching harmony adventure, he keeps wondering when did you manage to change the playlist. 

once back at home, happily watching the content you wanted, jongseob is laying on your lap. his red glasses messily thrown on the nightstand, face buried in the warmth of the duvet covering your legs. 

you sneak your hand into his hair, massaging his scalp gently. one second he’s laughing at a joke he made, the other he’s groaning softly. 

“that feels nice…” he mewls, nuzzling his head. 

“yeah?” you ask with a grin. his limbs stretch a little and jongseob lets out a sigh of relief.

“m’yeah. keep doing that, please… oh, oh, here” he purrs in delight.

“not a cat, you say” you whisper quietly, not wanting him to hear. he doesn’t, luckily - and you decide to tease him about it later. something along the lines of ‘who needs a cat when i have you’.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,

@mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee ,, @l3visbby

[villainousauthor]

"This might be a new low for you." Hero's voice is firm, unwavering. Villain looks up from their delicate work, crossing of wires and fuses. They were hoping to get this explosive planted quickly and efficiently, though Hero's presence may delay their goal.

"I didn't know you previously held such a high opinion of me. I'm flattered." Villain's speaks in a deadpan tone.

Hero crosses the room, standing before Villain, arms folded in irritation. "A government building? Really? I thought my opinion of you couldn't get lower, but you dropped the bar into hell." Villain looks up, meeting their stern glower. Their fingers drum across the wooden desk the explosives sit on, holding Hero's gaze.

"Is this supposed to have any effect on me? I'm used to your scorn." They stand up, rising to Hero's height. "Either try to stop me or get lost. If you try to fight me, though, know I won't go easy on you this time."

This was too important. They didn't have time to play their usual games with Hero, or worry about their disappointment.

"I can tell." Hero speaks, sitting down on the desk, as if uncaring about the literal ticking bomb inches away. "You have that look on your face. Like you're thinking hard about something." They sigh as if exhausted. "Trying to fight you when you get like this never goes well."

"So leave-"

"Nope." Hero crosses their legs, uncrosses them, and leans back, meeting Villain's stare again. They're forcing a show of relaxation, but Villain doesn’t miss the way their limbs shake, or the way fingers won't stay still. "I have a better idea." They continue.

"Do go on."

"You go ahead and finished setting up these explosives and high tail it out of here like a coward, and I'll stay here." Hero's tone is like that of someone discussing the weather, or the latest sports game.

Villain blinks, opens their mouth, and closes their mouth before finally finding their words.

"What? You do know what a bomb is, right? I know your skull is a bit thick, but you do realize what would happen in that case?"

Hero makes a show of a fake explosion with their hand, complete with an auditory Woosh.

"I'd be turned into paste. Probably. If your weapons skills are even that good." They try to keep their voice in that same casual tone, but yet again, Villain doesn't miss the slight tremble. They're frightened. None of this makes sense.

Villain pauses for a moment. "Are you suicidal? Is this a cry for help because I'm sure this Hero gig of yours pays well enough for some therapy-"

"Nothing like that." Hero interrupts with a shake of their head and a laugh devoid of humor. "I appreciate the concern, but no, that's not what's going on here."

Staying quiet for a moment, Villain waits for them to elaborate.

"I'm calling your bluff." They say simply. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It's easier than trying to fight you and getting my ass kicked."

Frowning, Villain speaks a bit firmer, still confused though. "You're what?"

"I am calling your bluff. You can go ahead and blow up this building, but I'll be right here when it detonates." Hero smirks, like they've figured villain out.

Standing up taller, they lean over the wooden table and grab one of Hero's shoulders harshly. Their face becomes something wild.

"Are you really so self-centered, so arrogant, that you somehow- somehow in that stupid mind of yours think-" They exhale harshly through their nose and let go. "You think that your stupid threat of self destruction is enough to make me change my mind? You think your life matters to me, at all?" Their voice gets harsher as they speak, volume raising slightly. Why would Hero even try this?

"Okay then. So prove how worthless my life is to you." Hero shrugs. "You go ahead and set the bomb off, and I'll stay here." Hero tries to hide their smug smile. Despite their fear, they know they've caught Villain off guard.

Pinching their own face so hard they worry their nails may cut skin, Villain breathes loudly.

"You realize I could turn this back around on you, right? I could call your bluff. You wish to risk your life like this?"

"Call my bluff then." They challenge. "Unless you defuse this bomb, I'm not leaving." Hero raises their chin defiantly, eyes dagger sharp.

Villain rounds the table, grabbing Hero roughly, jostling them with a grip hard enough to ache. Hero's face doesn't change. "You think I can't drag you out of here? That I couldn't possibly knock you out and take you with me?" And then give them lecture filled with ire boarding on something violent later.

"You can certainly try," They keep that rebellious smile on their face, "but I'd fight you tooth and nail the whole way, and is that how you want to spend your precious escape time?"

Sneering, Villain can't decide if they want to shove them away or grip them tighter. "I hate you. I hate you so much." They all but snarl at them. If the imminent threat of explosion didn't kill Hero, they're sure the look on their enemy's face would.

Still, Hero pushes. "No, you don't. If you did, you'd already be out the door. You'd be killing two birds with one stone." Hero's hand reaches for the beeping package of wires, hand trembling, but they grab it nonetheless. They shove it to Villain roughly.

"Prove you hate me. Or defuse the bomb." They keep on the act of confidence, but that underlying dread is still in their eyes, the deep seated fear of what will happen.

Idiotic as always, Villain decides. Like there was any chance Villain would do anything else but spare them. Their stupid, infuriating Hero.

"I can't stand you." They growl, ripping one wire from the fuse.