#i wasn't expecting to finish this in like two days
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writeforfandoms · 2 days ago
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Island 8
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The group of you are finally ready to leave the base and start on, hopefully, the final journey on the Island.
Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, mention of hunting, anxiety, general feelings of low self-worth, typical stuff for Survivor for this series.
Word count: 2.7k
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It took a further three days to have everything as prepped as you wanted. You made batches and batches of hard biscuits, using up all the flour. Berries would still be available along a lot of the route, so you didn't worry too much about that. Jerky was fortunately something you'd been making for a long time, so you had quite a bit of it to go around. Fresh meat would also be available along the route. 
Water was more of a concern, but you were still holding out hope for a drop with more canteens.
Price gave in to your logic, and finished taming the iguanodon, which was good. Ghost surprised the hell out of you by coming back with a stego. Even Soap managed to tame a parasaur. 
Gaz still wanted a hyaenadon, so you and he took the ghillie and cuts of meat and started taming. You worked on one - Gaz somehow managed to work on two. It did take two days, as you'd predicted, but it worked. 
Leaving the lot of you with plenty of tames to carry things and help guard the group. Hopefully you'd be able to tame a few more things along the way, since you weren't worried much about being able to feed them all until you got to the volcano. 
Really, it was a pretty good start. 
Soap and Gaz did a good portion of the packing, with Price and Ghost handling the weapons and ammunition. Another thing you wouldn't mind finding more of in a drop. 
You kept track of everything, made sure everyone had some armor and kept essentials on them. Just in case. 
You didn't even object when Gaz swapped out one of your armor pieces for something heavier. 
The morning you were set to leave was… hard. Not for any reasons you'd expected. Packing went quickly and seamlessly, all the tames behaving themselves. Even Ripper wasn't trying to maul anyone. 
No, it was difficult for you to leave. You didn't want to leave. You didn't want to leave the safety of your base. You weren't ready to venture into the relative unknown.
Even with the four men by your side. 
“Ready?” Gaz finally prompted you, even as one of the tames snorted and shuffled behind you. 
You breathed in deep one last time, hands steady as you straightened your shirt. “Ready.” You turned your back on the base and took your place at the front, leading the whole group away. 
You didn't look back. 
If your guesses were right, it would take about four days to reach the volcano, since the lot of you weren't pushing, and were moving more cautiously. Maybe three, if things went well and nobody got in trouble and there weren't any distractions. 
You had enough food to last a week, just in case. 
The first day was easy. Nothing bothered you. All was quiet. Feeding everyone was easy - the herbivores grazed as you all walked, and you let Ripper and the hyaenadons after a few dodos. Gaz helped you build up the campfire for the night, helping you cook as the others took care of settling everything else. 
“Ye never did tell us how to tame a raptor,” Soap said, eyeing Ripper where the raptor had settled behind you for the night. 
“I didn't?” You blinked, surprised. You could have sworn you'd told them already. “Well, it's not easy. The hyaenadons are probably the easiest, honestly.” You swallowed a few berries, thinking over how you wanted to phrase it. 
“And the rest?” Price had a keen eye on you, even as he swapped a pot of boiling water for a fresh pot. 
“Well, first step is to not get killed,” you answered dryly, smirking at his dissatisfied huff. “You have to trap the predators. Usually that means with something like a bear trap. Feed them while they're stuck and can't go anywhere. Tom was pretty good at building traps that were less harmful, things you could lead a raptor into without risking your arm.” 
“Traps, eh?” Price eyed you, clearly considering. “Did he teach you?” 
“Yes,” you said slowly, hesitantly. “But we won't have time to build any traps, not on our route. The only chance we'd have of taming one is if we found one already trapped or injured.” 
“But it could be done,” Price pressed. 
“Sure,” you agreed with a shrug. “Still takes time, so we'd have to pause somewhere nearby, but it could be done, hypothetically. I don't know if we'll need more carnivores though, honestly. I wouldn't say no to more trikes or stegos.” 
Price sat back, his curiosity apparently assuaged for the moment. 
“How did Tom teach ye?” Soap asked, still looking curious. 
“Showed me what he had done with Ripper,” you said, shrugging again. “We had plenty of time. Not like we had anywhere else to be.” You paused, swallowing back bitterness. “At least, that's what we figured at the time.” 
Silence settled over the camp for a few long moments, the others giving you time to calm again. You didn't look at them, instead choosing to look at the fire, letting the movement of the flames distract you from your feelings. 
You owed a lot to Tom, and you'd never have a chance to repay him. 
But maybe if you got these men out… maybe your debt would be closer to settled. 
“What else did he teach you?” Gaz was the one to break the silence. “About tames.”
You smiled a little. “Which ones to avoid, like dodos,” you answered easily. “Which ones were easier to tame. Where to find the different creatures.” 
“You seen a lot of this place, then?” Soap piped up, watching keenly.
“A fair bit. Not the snowy lands, not the volcano. But I did make the mistake of going through the swamp once.” You shuddered in remembered terror and revulsion. “Huge bugs. Terrifying crocodile-things, except bigger. Lots of fighting and hunting going on in the swamp, all the time.” 
“Didn't ye have to go there to get the leech?” Soap looked faintly concerned. 
You shrugged. “I stayed to the outside, only went in far enough to find a leech and run. It was fine.” You reached behind you to pat Ripper. The raptor chirruped at you, clearly pleased with the attention. 
“Good thing that's not on the way,” Gaz managed to joke, his attention still focused on you. 
“Very good thing,” you agreed. “Although once we get into the mountains, there will be plenty of bad shit to keep us busy.” 
“We're prepared for that,” Price pointed out, seemingly unconcerned. 
You decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. You'd already expressed concern about the danger, more than once, so further harping on it wouldn't get you anywhere. Especially since these four could now survive on their own. They didn't actually need you anymore. 
It was what you'd worked towards with them, for them, but it was still a slightly terrifying thought. That they would survive without you. 
You shook yourself, getting rid of the worst of the what ifs and maybes, and stood to do a quick round of checks. Now that dark had fallen, it would be best to sleep in shifts, something the four of them had divided up quite nicely. 
You weren’t going to object. Not tonight. Tomorrow, though, you’d insist on pulling your weight. 
Soap, Price, and Ghost all settled down, apparently content to go to sleep. Soap even went so far as to roll away from the fire, his hair even more of a mess than usual. 
Gaz stayed where he was, seated, shoulders relaxed but gaze alert. The firelight cast odd shadows around him, flickering and dancing. Far from scaring you, however, you just thought him beautiful like this. 
“You should get some sleep,” he murmured to you, voice lowered in deference to his teammates. 
“I will,” you agreed. “In a few minutes.” You breathed in deep, the cold air mixed with the smell of the fire both soothing and exhilarating. “You see the island very differently.”
“Do I?” He sounded curious, glancing at you as you settled a little closer to him. You told yourself it was so you could keep your voices down, let the others sleep.
You didn't acknowledge that you just wanted to be close to him. 
Well. You tried not to acknowledge that, anyway. 
“You still see the wonder of it,” you murmured, letting your own gaze drift past the fire to the dark woods beyond. “The beauty of this place. I can't see it anymore. I just see danger.” 
Gaz was quiet for a few moments before he leaned over enough to nudge his shoulder up against yours. “You've been alone a long time,” he murmured. “Hypervigilance is not surprising.” 
You sighed softly, leaning just a little into the comfort he offered. “I'm tired,” you admitted, so quiet you were sure he couldn't hear you. 
But he surprised you, turning enough to wrap one solid arm around your shoulders. “I'm here,” he whispered, head tipped towards your ear, foreheads nearly touching. “I'll help. Any way I can.” 
You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears, refusing to let them escape. “You already are.” 
His arm tightened around you, comforting and grounding, letting you breathe more easily. Neither of you said another word. None were needed. The shared warmth and comfort was more than enough for you. 
And when you woke in the morning next to Gaz, rather than where you'd originally set your things down, no one said anything. Soap looked like he wanted to, but he didn't. (The sharp-looking elbow from Gaz might've helped with that.) 
It didn't take long until the lot of you were walking again. You had the map, mostly ignoring Price peering over your shoulder at it. You didn't need the map yet, but you wanted to be sure the lot of you weren't getting lost. 
“Drops up ahead,” Ghost called from the back of the group. 
You paused and shaded your eyes, looking up until you spotted them. One green drop and one white. Your heart thumped in excitement. White drops were rare, and usually had really good stuff. 
“Looks like they'll be falling up ahead,” Price said, having also spotted them. “Nearly dead ahead.” 
“The white one is a bit off course,” you mused. “But it should be fine. We're not that close to the horse clan here, I think we're outside their normal range.” 
“You think?” Price raised one eyebrow at you.
You rolled your eyes. “I was less focused on keeping up with their territories, and more focused on surviving,” you pointed out, eyes narrowing at him. 
Price huffed but held his hands up in apparent surrender. Satisfied, you looked back at the drops. The green would be directly on the way, easy to stop and grab. 
An ankylosaurus wandered out of the trees in front of the group, snorting once at the lot of you before continuing to look for berries. 
“Slight change of plans,” you murmured, excited now. “You lot go to the green drop and wait for it there. I'll tame this anky and meet up with you.” 
“You shouldn't stay out here on your own,” Gaz interrupted, having clearly been eavesdropping. 
You shrugged. “So someone can volunteer to stay with me,” you said, unbothered. “Won't take three of you long to get everything out of the green drop anyway.” 
“I'll stay,” Gaz immediately offered. 
Price sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something too quiet for you to understand. He sounded faintly exasperated. “Fine,” he agreed, lowering his hand again. “Soap, Ghost, on me.” He strode ahead, and you whistled the tames to follow him. 
From behind, it was rather fun to see the small herd of creatures following the beleaguered-looking captain. A sentiment Soap seemed to share with you, snickering as he passed. 
“More tames?” Gaz asked after the group had pulled ahead. 
“Ankys are pretty good defense,” you pointed out. “Not sure how much they can carry, but that tail is a good deterrent for a lot of predators.” 
“Not arguing,” he was quick to say, holding out a bag of berries. “Just surprised we're taking the time to do this now, is all.” 
You shrugged, pulling out a dark red berry and rolling it between your fingertips. “Way I see it, we have plenty of time,” you pointed out. “And more tames can't hurt.” 
Gaz nodded, accepting your logic. “So, approach slowly and feed it until it likes you?” He guessed with a little grin. 
You couldn't help your huff of amusement. “Basically,” you agreed. “Keep an eye out and shout if you see trouble.” You left him there, walking over closer to the anky. 
It wasn't a long process to feed, fortunately. The anky was hungry, and eager to take berries even from your hand. By the time the other group had the drop packed away, you had the anky following you, docile as any tame. 
“Anything good in that drop?” You asked as you and Gaz walked up to the rest of the group. 
“A canteen,” Soap answered, holding it up to show you. “And more ammo.” 
“Not bad,” you agreed with a little grin. “I hope the white drop has more good stuff.” 
The white drop seemed to be a bit off the path you'd drawn for the journey, edging closer to the edge of the Pink Ladies’ territory. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem. Hopefully it would be worth it. 
This time, Gaz stayed next to you as you walked. You didn't mind his company, even when you heard a bit of snickering and hushed murmurs behind you. Soap, at a guess. And maybe Price. 
The white drop was a bit larger than the average drop, and it only took moments to pry the top open. 
The first thing you grabbed happened to be a bundle of incendiary arrows. You whistled lowly, impressed. 
“Hardly ever see these,” you mused, passing them to Soap. “Those could come in handy.” 
The jar of oil went right after the arrows, and your grin felt a little sharp. A little feral, possibly. 
Those arrows would be an excellent way to defend your group, if needed. 
Two more canteens, bigger and heavy-duty, met with your approval. More ammo, for all the weapons. A precious jar of cure-all. Two bags of jerky. And a bola, which you’d never had a chance to use before. 
“That was a good drop,” you said, grinning, very pleased. “Very good drop.” 
“Good to have supplies,” Price agreed, finishing stowing away the last of the extra ammo. 
“Now that this is done, we can keep going.” You didn't bother with taking the crate this time. No need, not if you lot actually got off the island. And building took too long on the road to be helpful. 
Ghost hissed through his teeth. “Got eyes on,” he said suddenly. 
The shift in the men around you was palpable, shoulders drawing up, expressions changing. Gaz shifted so he was half in front of you, physically blocking you. 
You'd be impressed if you weren't trying to peer over his shoulder to see what was ahead. 
Three Painted Ladies stood ahead, basically in the way. Your heart sank. You hadn't dealt much with them, not in a while, but the red dye on their faces and clothes made it clear. The two marked tames behind them made you a little nervous - an anky and a dire bear. You hadn't seen a dire bear in ages. 
You'd forgotten how big they got. 
You breathed in slowly, eyeing the distance between your groups. The Painted Ladies weren't approaching, weren't trying to get closer. Clearly waiting. 
You'd have to go to them. 
“You lot stay here,” you said, quiet but firm. “They won't deal with you.” 
“But–!” Soap started to protest, one hand already on a rifle. 
“No.” You shook your head a little. “They won't talk to you. They'll talk to me.” 
Price looked back at you, calculating. Then he nodded once, firm and steady. “Gaz, keep back, but follow her.” 
You didn't object that time. Having Gaz at your back made you feel better, even if you knew he couldn't help. So you breathed in deep, until the ache of it filled your lungs. 
Then you started forward, projecting confidence you didn't feel.
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Reunion - Friends
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Masterlist
Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader
Tags: SFW, platonic, friends, jealousy, feelings, blood, death, crime, guilt
It's been a week since your embarrassing parting with Dick. Since then, you threw yourself into your work and studies. It was difficult to rip yourself away at first, but the longer you kept at it, the easier the routine became. Each day became structured, starting with the gym, then classes, studying, and your internship. On top of that, you and your friends always had something planned for weekends or evenings, so you were seldom bored as you were kept plenty busy.
The routine drew you back to your old self, the one that was comfortable and wasn't concerned about the intentions or treatments of some man. It felt great!
Today, you were attending your first jury duty selection. You fixed the collar of your blouse and flattened your palms down your blazer, then skirt, taking one last look in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. You were still going over the transcripts of your case as you made your way to the courtroom, not careful of where you were going. As a result, you bumped into a hard wall of muscle. "Mph!" You blinked a couple of times, adjusting to your surroundings. "Sorry!"
Said wall turned around to face you. He wore a brown leather jacket over a black t-shirt, with his detective badge tucked on the side of his belt. And he smelled like old spice, all six feet three inches of him. Your friend Tony smirked down at you. "Sup dude?"
He started law school with you and then transfered to the police academy when he decided he wanted a more "hands on" approach to fighting crime.
You grinned up at him brightly, opening your mouth, ready to greet an old friend. But then you remembered where you were and composed your festures quickly. "Good morning, Detective Ericso-"
"Oh, don't give me that shit." Tony groaned before puling you into a bear hug. "I'm off duty. Plus, I'm still a cadet."
"Well," you looked down at your now disheveled outfit. "I'm not off duty. So I have to be Profesional." Then you smiled excitedly. "I have my first jury duty selection today."
"No shit." He snapped his fingers in an exaggerated way. "Look at you, miss lawyer!"
"I know," you channeled Monica from friends as you couldn't help but grin at him. He was always a ball of energy.
"Listen, a couple of friends are meeting at Richmond's tonight for a beer. Come with us." He said.
"I..." you began to think of your plans in the evening and came up short. "Okay, I'm free. What time."
He rolled his eyes. "Around eight. And as if you had any plans to begin with, you studious loser."
You raised your arm to smack his, but then you made eye contact with an important looking man in a suit and lowered it again. "Eight. That's when i finish my day. I'll see you there! I gotta go now."
"You better!" You heard him say as you opened the door and stepped into the courtroom.
The couple of friends Tony had mentioned turned out to be two young cadets and Dick grayson.
You froze for a mere second when you walked in through the familiar doors of the bar. It was odd, yiu realized. You expected to feel a pang of something upon seeing him, but... you felt something mild. It was not pain, just... acknowledgement. Tony spotted you and waved you over. When Dick followed his friends' gaze to you, he offered you a shy smile. Surprisingly, you were very comfortable offering him one back.
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Dick smiled suggestively at you, tilting his head in the direction of the bar. "That guys been eyeing you since we sat down."
You, along with the rest of the table, turned to see who he was talking about.
At the bar, facing your table, a group of young men in suits sat drinking beers. Finance guys, by the looks of them. Not exactly the Bruce Wayne high fashion enterage, but they could have been consultants for a big firm. One of them - a cute blond with gelled hair - saught your gaze and gave you a small nod before raising his bottle to his lips. The gesture made you smile back before turning back to the group. "He's cute."
"Go talk to him." One of the other cadets, Anna, gave you a light nudge.
"Nahh." Dick drawled, leaning back in his seat. "She doesn't have to. The guy's making his way over here right now."
And surely enough, a moment later, the blond suit showed up to your table, clearing his throat. You looked up and met his gaze.
"Is this seat taken?" He asked you, glancing to the open chair beside you.
You shook your head.
"Lucky me." The blond grinned a charming grin and sat down beside you. He had a gorgeous pair of green eyes, a chiseled jaw peppered in a three day stubble and beautiful full lips that seemed really kissable. You looked down at your heart, wondering if you were really that much of a lightweight so as to be so affected by a man.
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Dick was happy.
He was happy you were comfortable around one another again. Happy your could talk to each other and laugh together. Most importantly, he was happy that you were happy. He watched you and the finance bro chat and laugh to each other, smiling at one another's jokes, exchanging contacts. Finance bro began to brush your knee with his fingers as his gaze became a little bit more heated.
You didn't seem to mind, Dick noticed. In fact, if the slight blush on your cheeks was any indication, you enjoyed the attention. You offered him a timid smile, biting down on your bottom lip.
Dick felt his smile falter.
Oh no.
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You laughed into your wineglass as your friend Tony reached to give Dick a light smack upside the head. Dick dodged at the last minute, and Tony missed.
"Dicky, how is it possible that after that many years on Earth you've never seen Harry Potter?!" Tony asked, incredulous.
Dick shook his index finger in return. "Na uh, you don't get to judge. You haven't seen Love, Actually -"
You smiled to yourself. Of course Dick Grayson was a love, actually enjoyer. You pictured him watching the romcom and tearing up at the emotional scenes.
"Dear god!" Tony dropped his head into his hands. "Apples to oranges, man! Y/n, help me out here - oh yeah. I forgot you're busy being in love."
"You're so dramatic." You murmmered, looking at your phone. "I'm literally emailing my prof."
"Oh? A contender for finance, bro?" Dick raised his brow suggestively.
"Wouldn't you like to know." You smirked. "And 'finance bros' name is Eric."
Dick raised his hands in mock surrender for in truth. He really didn't care. He also didn't like that you called finance bro by his name. He was finance, bro. A faceless fuck. Not Eric, some guy whose name, personality and life you possibly knew.
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Dick was ready to knock Tony out if he mentioned finance boy one more time. He sat on your apartment floor, wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that you knitted him as his secret Santa.
Tony sat gleefully in his hanukah sweater that your friend got for him. He was positively drunk when he raised his half finished glass of beer and announced. "I have an announcement."
The rest of the people at your apartment went quiet, patiently waiting for Tony's next words.
The young man smiled, opened his mouth to speak, and let out a long burp. The room burst into groans and murrmers of disgust.
Dick was too busy receiving an emergency alert into his earpiece.
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Dick arrived at the bank just as the day surrendered to the night. The sky above Gotham was tinged in dark blue as the bank’s alarms blared into the street.
"I’m at the location, Oracle," he murmured into his comm.
"Roger that," Barbara’s voice came through. "Security cameras show several men in ski masks inside."
"Copy." he replied, scaling the building in silence. He scanned the scene through a window: two civilians - a mother clutching her child - and a bank teller stood cowering in the corner as the masked robbers rifled through drawers.
"Need any backup?" Tim’s voice cut in.
"Negative, Baby-bird. This’ll be quick," Dick replied, his voice steady. "Enjoy your Christmas eve."
"God, he's so sappy." His brother, Jason, groaned into the comm.
"Police are en route, Nightwing," Barbara updated.
"Thanks."
He took out his batons and moved into action, precise and controlled. This was second nature - an exercise he could do in his sleep. Within moments, he had incapacitated the leader and taken down the four remaining men, who barely had a chance to react. In under a minute, every robber was either knocked out or tied up. Just as Oracle said, the police cars pulled up a moment later. Armed officers running into the bank, followed by a stoic commissioner Gordon walking in.
"Oracle, any more assailants?" Nightwing asked, breathing a little harder as he led the mother and teller toward the exit, carrying the giggling child in his arms. The little boy poked his chubby finger against Dick’s cheek, and despite the situation, Dick found himself smiling, cooing gently to reassure him.
Then, a gunshot shattered the air. Dick froze, his heart plummeting as a horrible, familiar dread took over.
"No!" he gasped, handing the child back to his mother before sprinting toward the sound.
As he rounded the corner, he saw it: one of the police officers lay in a spreading pool of blood, a discarded gun a foot away from a handcuffed robber. The scene played out, each detail sinking deep into his mind. He couldn’t look away. But... how? He's either tied or knocked all of them out!
He stumbled to Commissioner Gordon, who was kneeling beside the officer, hands trembling slightly as he took in the fatal wound.
"Is he…" Dick’s voice caught.
Gordon stood, his expression etched with grief. Slowly, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing in a heavy breath. "He’s gone, son."
The weight of those words felt like a punch to the gut, hollowing Dick out from the inside. This was what he fought against, what he trained his entire life to prevent - and tonight, he had failed. Despite every life he’d saved, it hadn’t been enough.
Hours later, Dick trudged back to his apartment, feeling like a ghost. The image of the fallen officer haunted him, replaying every step of the night until it blurred with exhaustion and guilt.
As he opened his fridge and reached for a beer, Batman’s voice came through his comm, quiet and firm. "Nightwing. What happened tonight wasn’t your fault."
"Yes, sir," he replied, swallowing against the lump in his throat, the words barely audible.
“Dick… I've gone over your body cam. You did a good job incapacitating them. It was just bad luck." Bruce’s voice softened.
"I know," he whispered, his grip on the bottle tightening.
A heavy silence hung between them before Bruce added, “Get some rest.”
The comm went silent, and Dick felt something inside him finally break. The weight of his grief, the frustration, the helplessness - all of it spilled over as he sank to the floor, alone in the dark, and let himself cry.
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formulas-bitch · 2 days ago
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For you, Always / CEO/Carlos sainz x personal assistant reader
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"You're late," the sharp voice of Mr. Carlos Sainz pierced through the quiet office hallway, causing the new intern, Emma, to jump. She looked up from her scuffed shoes to see the stern CEO standing before her, his eyes a piercing brown that seemed to see through her. "Again, Miss Hathaway."
Emma felt her heart sink as she clutched the forgotten coffee tray. She had been warned about Mr. Sainz's punctuality, but she hadn't realized it was this severe. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself, "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Sainz. The traffic was-"
He waved her off with a flick of his hand, clearly not interested in her excuses. "You're my personal assistant now, Miss Hathaway. I expect you to anticipate these issues and solve them accordingly. Being late is not acceptable." He turned on his heel and strode back to his office, the heavy door swinging shut behind him with a thud that echoed through the hallway.
Emma took a moment to collect her thoughts, feeling the weight of her new role settle heavily on her shoulders. She had only started two days ago, and she was already on thin ice. With trembling hands, she balanced the tray and followed him into the lion's den. The office was sleek and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the bustling city. The scent of leather and polished wood filled the air, a stark contrast to the chaotic jumble of papers and files scattered across the desk.
SUMMARY^1: Mr. Carlos Sainz, the CEO, scolded the new intern, Emma Hathaway, for her lateness. Despite her apology, he expressed zero tolerance for the lack of punctuality, emphasizing the high expectations for his personal assistant. His office reflected his professionalism and power, yet it was also cluttered with work, highlighting the urgency of her role.
Mr. Sainz was already seated, his fingers tapping impatiently on the keyboard of his laptop. He didn't look up as she approached, but she could feel his gaze boring into her. She set the tray down and began organizing the documents he had left scattered. "Your schedule for the day, sir," she said, her voice shaking slightly.
"Good," he said, finally glancing up. "Now, let's get started. I have a meeting with the board in thirty minutes, and I need to review these financial reports before then." He handed her a thick stack of papers, his tone brisk and business-like.
Emma took the documents, her mind racing. She had studied hard for this internship, eager to prove herself in the corporate world, but she hadn't expected to be thrust into the deep end so quickly. She had heard whispers of Mr. Sainz's demanding nature, but experiencing it firsthand was a different beast entirely. She sat at the desk opposite his, her heart racing as she skimmed the figures and pie charts. The numbers swam before her eyes, and she struggled to focus.
As she worked, Mr. Sainz made a series of phone calls, his voice a low, authoritative murmur that filled the room. The sound of his leather chair squeaking as he leaned back was the only other noise in the otherwise silent office. She tried to ignore the pressure, but it was like a physical presence in the room, pushing down on her. Every few minutes, he would shoot her a look that seemed to ask why she wasn't done yet.
SUMMARY^1: Emma faced Mr. Sainz's impatience as she began her duties, starting with organizing his office and preparing for a board meeting. Despite her nervousness, she focused on the task at hand, dealing with the heavy workload and his demanding nature as best she could.
Finally, after what felt like hours, she finished reviewing the reports. She took a deep breath and slid them back across the desk to him. "All set, Mr. Sainz."
He took them without a word, his eyes scanning the pages with a rapidity that made her dizzy. She watched as he flipped through them, his expression unreadable. The silence grew heavier with each passing second, until he finally looked up. "Good," he said, his voice terse. "Now, I need you to draft an email to the board summarizing these findings. and make sure to include Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris and Max Verstappen "
Emma nodded, her hands flying over the keyboard as she typed up the email. Her mind raced as she tried to distill the complex information into concise bullet points. She had never felt so scrutinized. Mr. Sainz's eyes remained on her the entire time, as if daring her to make a mistake. But she was determined to prove herself. She had worked too hard to get here, to let one bad morning ruin her chances.
When she was done, she pushed the email across the desk for his approval. He read it over, his expression unchanged, before nodding curtly. "Send it," he said, his voice a command.
SUMMARY^1: After completing the report review, Emma faced Mr. Sainz's challenge to draft an email to the board with critical information, including the names of three important individuals. Despite the intense pressure, she worked efficiently under his watchful gaze, eager to prove her worth.
Emma exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly with relief. She hit send and watched as the email disappeared into the digital void. Mr. Sainz stood up, his movements fluid and powerful. "Now, we have the meeting in fifteen minutes. Make sure the conference room is set up properly. and make a reservation at Riccardo's for dinner for 7 people"
Her stomach twisted into a knot. "But sir, it's already-"
"Now, Miss Hathaway," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're going to be busy until then. Make it happen."
Emma nodded, her thoughts racing as she rushed out of the office. She knew Riccardo's was notorious for its exclusive reservations and short notice was almost never an option. But she didn't dare question Mr. Sainz's instructions. She had to make it work. and its not like they wont give her the reservation as the owner Daniel was a friend of Mr.Sainz.
With trembling hands, she called the restaurant, her voice a mix of desperation and professionalism. After a tense negotiation, she managed to secure a table for seven at 7 PM. She jotted down the confirmation details and hurried back to the office. "I've got the reservation, Mr. Sainz," she called out as she passed his open door.
He looked up from his phone, his eyebrows raised slightly in acknowledgment. "Good," he said. "Send me the details. Now, about the conference room."
SUMMARY^1: Having sent the email, Emma faced the next task: setting up the conference room and securing a dinner reservation at the exclusive Riccardo's. Despite initial doubt, she successfully reserved a table for seven at 7 PM, thanks to Mr. Sainz's friendship with the owner, Daniel, and relayed the details to her boss.
Emma's heart sank a little further. The conference room was notorious for its temperamental technology, and she had never set it up on her own. But she nodded, her voice steady. "I'll take care of it, Mr. Sainz."
She hurried down the hall, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The conference room loomed before her, a gleaming monolith of corporate power. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, the cool air from the AC hitting her like a slap in the face. The long, polished table was already set with notepads and pens, but the screens and audio equipment looked daunting. She checked the clock on her phone; she had ten minutes to get everything ready. As she was setting everything up, she couldn't get the projector working.
Her heart raced as she fiddled with the cables. The clock ticked away, each second feeling like an eternity. She had read the manual three times, but the damn thing still wouldn't turn on. Panic began to set in. The board members would be here any minute, expecting a flawless presentation from their CEO. This couldn't be happening. just as she was about to panic there was a knock on the door.
"who's there?," she called out, trying to keep her voice calm.
The door swung open to reveal Pierre Gasly the it guy, with a friendly smile on his face. "Emma, right?" he said, stepping into the room. "
SUMMARY^1: Tasked with preparing the conference room, Emma faced technical issues with the projector. Despite her fear of failure and the looming presence of the board members' imminent arrival, she maintained composure and received help from the IT department, represented by Pierre Gasly.
Emma nodded, feeling a rush of relief. "omg thank god you here i need some hep with this , I'm having some trouble with the projector," she said, gesturing to the tangle of cords.
Pierre chuckled, crossing the room to inspect the setup. "Looks like you've got a case of the Mondays," he said, his French accent giving the words a comforting lilt. He quickly untangled the cables and powered on the device with a flourish. The projector hummed to life, casting a crisp image onto the screen.
"Merci beaucoup," Emma said, her voice a mix of relief and embarrassment.
"De rien," Pierre replied with a wink. "Now, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
The board members began to trickle in, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. They greeted Mr. Sainz with nods and handshakes, their eyes sliding briefly over to Emma before moving on. She tried to shrink into the background, her nerves jangling with each new arrival. The room filled quickly, and soon the only empty seat was the one at the head of the table, reserved for Mr. Sainz.
"Everything set?" he asked, his voice low and expectant.
Emma nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. "Yes, Mr. Sainz."
"Good," he said, his expression unreadable. He took his seat at the head of the table, and Emma quickly distributed the packets she had prepared. The board members murmured to each other, their eyes flicking over the documents. She took her place at the side of the room, her palms damp against the cool glass of the water pitcher she held.
The meeting began with a tension that seemed to thicken the air. Mr. Sainz spoke with confidence and authority, his eyes darting from face to face as he presented the company's latest acquisitions. The room was so silent, she could hear the faint rustle of pages turning. As he talked, Emma found herself admiring his ability to command the attention of the room, despite the chaos of the morning. He was a force to be reckoned with, and she was in the eye of the storm.
As the meeting progressed, Mr. Sainz called on her to clarify a few points, and she found her voice growing stronger with each response. The board members listened intently, their expressions a mix of surprise and respect. She had studied hard for this moment, and it showed. Her mind was sharp, her answers concise and informed. Despite the pressure, she felt a spark of pride in her work.
The tension in the room gradually eased as the meeting moved forward. The board members began to nod in agreement, and a few even offered words of praise. Mr. Sainz shot her a rare smile, his eyes briefly softening before returning to their usual intense gaze. "Thank you, Miss Hathaway," he said, as the meeting drew to a close. "You've done well."
Emma felt a warm glow spread through her chest. Despite the rough start to the day, she had managed to pull it together. As the board members filed out, Mr. Sainz's secretary, Mrs. Rodriguez, slipped into the room. "Mr. Sainz, the car is waiting downstairs," she announced batting her eyelashes towards him and looks towards me with a scowl on her face.
He nodded, his attention still on Emma. "Thank you again, Miss Hathaway," he said. "I'll see you at the restaurant."
Emma blinked, surprised. "At Riccardo's?" she asked.
Mr. Sainz nodded. "Yes. I've invited the board members for dinner to discuss further. Make sure the reservation is for seven."
Emma felt a jolt of excitement. She had never been to Riccardo's, but she had heard the whispers of its legendary cuisine and exclusive clientele. It was a place where deals were made and reputations were forged. She knew this was a test, a chance to prove herself beyond the office walls. "Of course, Mr. Sainz," she said, her voice firm.
The rest of the day was a blur of preparations. She coordinated with the restaurant, confirming the reservation and special dietary requirements. She arranged for a car service to pick them up and even managed to find a last-minute replacement for one of the board members who had to cancel. The pressure was intense, but Emma felt alive with the rush of adrenaline. This was what she had signed up for: the challenge of working at the top tier of the corporate world.
When the clock finally struck 7 PM, she found herself in the back of a sleek black sedan, her stomach fluttering with nerves. The car pulled up to Riccardo's, the elegant exterior bathed in soft lights that cast a warm glow onto the sidewalk. The valet opened the door with a flourish, and she stepped out, her heels clicking against the cobblestones.
The restaurant's interior was a symphony of dark wood and soft lighting, the clink of silverware and the murmur of conversation creating a soothing ambiance. The host, a man with slicked-back hair and a charming smile, recognized Mr. Sainz immediately and led them to a private dining room. The board members were already seated and surprising with their significant others beside them, their faces a mix of anticipation and skepticism as they took in their surroundings.
Emma finally took her place by the wall with her notepad in her hands write everything she thought was important.
The dinner conversation was a dance of diplomacy and power, with Mr. Sainz at the center, guiding the discussion with a grace that belied his earlier irritation. He spoke of the company's triumphs and challenges, weaving a story that painted a picture of a bright future. The board members listened intently, their eyes on him, their expressions a mix of admiration and calculation. their partners sitting beside them eating quietly as glancing at Emma form time to time, wondering why she is not sitting down.
Emma hovered at the edge of the room, taking notes , her eyes and ears open to every word. She had to be ready to jump in at a moment's notice, to answer a question or fetch a forgotten document. The air was charged with ambition and the scent of expensive cologne mingled with the rich aromas of Riccardo's exquisite cuisine. she felt a pang of envy that she wasn't sitting at the table, partaking in the feast.
As the dinner progressed, the conversation grew more relaxed. The wine flowed freely, and laughter began to fill the air. Mr. Sainz told a story that had everyone at the table leaning in, their eyes glinting with amusement. Even Mrs. Rodriguez had a rare smile on her face. For the first time since she had started her internship, Emma felt like she was part of something important.
The food arrived in a procession of dishes that looked like works of art. She watched as the board members and their partners savored each bite, their faces reflecting the pleasure of the exquisite flavors. Mr. Sainz glanced at her from across the room, his expression unreadable. She knew she was being evaluated, but she didn't mind. This was the kind of pressure she thrived on.
The dinner was winding down, and the board members were starting to look at their watches. Mr. Sainz noticed her discreet glances and nodded towards the door. "Miss Hathaway, I believe you've done enough for today. You're dismissed."
Emma felt a mix of relief and disappointment. She had been so focused on the meeting and dinner, she had almost forgotten about the time. She gathered her things and gave a quick nod to the group. "Thank you for allowing me to assist tonight," she said, her voice a little too loud in the sudden silence.
wont you stay and eat something before you leave" asked one of the board members noticing that she hasn't once ate anything or even sat down .
" oh , um thank you very much, but i really have to run home and I'm afraid i don't have much time anyways. thank you all. bye now"
With a quick smile, Emma excused herself and practically sprinted to the elevator, her heels clacking against the floor like a metronome. As the doors closed, she leaned against the cool metal wall and took a deep breath, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the evening. She had done it. She had survived her first real test as Mr. Carlos's personal assistant.
As Emma walked to the elevator, Carlos got various looks from everyone asking what is going on.
"What is wrong with her?" one of the board members whispered to Mrs.Rodriguez.
Mrs.Rodriguez smirked "She's just eager to please and a nobody who cant afford tp eat here," she said, her voice dripping with something that wasn't quite kindness.
Emma ignored the whispers and the stares as the elevator descended. The cool air from the AC washed over her, and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, relishing the feeling of solitude. When the doors opened, she stepped out into the bustling street, the sounds of the city a stark contrast to the hushed tones of the restaurant. She took a deep breath, the scent of car exhaust and garlic bread filling her nostrils.
As Emma was starting to head home, she hear someone shout her name.
"Emma, wait up!" It was Daniel Riccardo, the restaurant owner, jogging towards her with a smile on his face. " i noticed that you haven't has anything to eat and i cant let you leave without eating anything "He handed her a small takeout bag.
Emma looked at the bag with surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Riccardo. I'm okay, really."
He winked at her. "Please, call me Daniel. I know how Mr. Sainz can be. He doesn't let anyone, especially not his employees, enjoy a meal in peace here." His eyes twinkled mischievously.
Emma couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Daniel," she said, taking the bag with a genuine smile. "You're too kind."
He waved her off with a warm gesture. "It's the least I can do. Tell Mr. Sainz I said hello, and that I hope to see him back here soon, but maybe next time without the office drama." His words were playful, but they hit a nerve.
Emma nodded, clutching the bag to her chest. As she walked away from the restaurant, the smell of the food grew more tantalizing with each step. She was starving, but the thought of going home to a quiet meal alone was suddenly less appealing. She glanced back at the fancy cars lined up outside the restaurant, Mr. Sainz's sleek black sedan waiting patiently. On a whim, she decided to take a detour.
She found a quiet park nearby, the lights from the street lamps casting a soft glow on the empty benches. Sitting down, she pulled out the warm, fragrant dishes from the bag. The aroma was heavenly, a stark contrast to the bland office cafeteria food she had been subsisting on. As she took her first bite of the perfectly seasoned chicken piccata, she closed her eyes and savored the explosion of flavor. It was the best meal she had had in weeks.
Her thoughts drifted back to the dinner, to Mr. Sainz's words of praise and the board's nods of approval. It had been a grueling day, but she had proven herself. A sense of accomplishment washed over her, tempered only by the realization of how much more she had to learn. She had a feeling that this was just the first of many challenges to come, but she was ready to face them head-on.
The sound of a car door closing jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Mr. Sainz striding towards her, his tie loosened and his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Miss Hathaway," he said, his voice echoing through the deserted park.
Emma's heart skipped a beat. "Mr. Sainz, I'm sorry," she stammered, quickly gathering her things.
"You don't have to go anywhere," he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. He sat down on the bench beside her, his eyes on the takeout bag. "I see you've been enjoying the fruits of your labor."
Emma felt a blush creeping up her neck. "I hope it's not a problem, sir. I just didn't get the chance to eat earlier."
Mr. Sainz's expression didn't change, but there was something in his eyes that told her he understood. He nodded towards the bag. "Go ahead. You've earned it."
Emma took another bite, her eyes never leaving his. She felt a strange mix of comfort and apprehension sitting next to him in the quiet of the park. His presence was commanding, even outside the office. She chewed slowly, trying to make the moment last.
"Miss Hathaway," he began, his tone serious, "I noticed your dedication today. You faced the challenges with grace and efficiency. I'm impressed."
Emma's cheeks flushed with pride. "Thank you, Mr. Sainz."
He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I expect this level of commitment from you every day. Understood?"
Emma swallowed the last of her food and set the bag aside. "Yes, Mr. Sainz. I'm ready for whatever comes next."
He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Good," he said finally, his voice a low rumble. "Because tomorrow we're flying to New York for a conference. You'll need to be at the office at 6 AM sharp to prepare the necessary documents and ensure that all travel arrangements are in order."
Emma's eyes widened. "New York? Tomorrow?" she repeated, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.
"Yes," Mr. Sainz said, standing up. "I'll email you the details tonight. Make sure you're packed and ready to leave at 8 AM."
Emma nodded, her mind racing with the implications of this sudden trip. She had never been to New York before, and the thought of navigating the bustling city filled her with both excitement and trepidation. "Of course, Mr. Sainz," she said, trying to keep the excitement from her voice.
"Good," he said, turning to leave. "Don't disappoint me."
Emma watched him go, his words echoing in her mind. She knew the stakes were high, but she was ready. She had worked too hard to get this opportunity, and she wasn't going to let it slip away. As she made her way home, she felt the weight of the day lift from her shoulders. Despite the exhaustion, she was exhilarated by the challenge.
When she arrived at her small apartment, she immediately began packing. She had to be organized and efficient, just like Mr. Sainz. Her mind raced with the to-do list for tomorrow: booking flights, confirming hotel reservations, and making sure she had everything they would need for the conference. She had never traveled with the CEO before, and she didn't want to leave anything to chance.
As she folded her clothes, her phone buzzed with an email from Mr. Sainz. The subject line read, "NYC Trip Itinerary." She clicked it open, her heart racing. The email contained a meticulously detailed schedule, from the flight times to the conference sessions and even a few networking events. There was no room for error, and she knew it.
Emma worked through the night, double-checking every detail. She sent off emails confirming their flights, booked a luxurious suite at the hotel that Mr. Sainz preferred, and even managed to secure a spot at an exclusive event that had been sold out for weeks. The thrill of the challenge fueled her, keeping sleep at bay.
The next morning, she arrived at the office with dark circles under her eyes but a fire in her belly. The email she had sent to Mr. Sainz with all the travel details had received a curt "Thank you" in reply, but she knew that was the closest thing to praise she would get from him. As the sun began to rise, the office slowly filled with employees, all of whom cast curious glances her way as they saw her luggage.
Mr. Sainz arrived precisely at 7 AM, his usual punctuality a stark contrast to her own sleepless night. He barely glanced at her as he strode into his office, his briefcase swinging at his side. "Miss Hathaway," he called out, his voice sharp and commanding. "Bring me the updated agenda for the conference."
Emma's heart jumped, and she hurried over with the neatly bound document. She had gone over it a hundred times, making sure everything was in order. As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed, and she felt a spark of something she couldn't quite place. He took the agenda without a word, his eyes scanning the pages with a focus that was almost intimidating.
"Good," he said finally, not looking up. "Make sure we're ready to leave by 8 AM. I want everything to be perfect."
Emma nodded, her adrenaline spiking. "Yes, Mr. Sainz."
The rest of the morning was a blur of final preparations. She made sure Mr. Sainz's briefcase was stocked with everything he could possibly need, from his favorite pen to the latest company reports. She had even packed a spare phone charger, knowing his device was as much a lifeline as her own. As the clock ticked closer to 8 AM, she found herself pacing the floor outside his office, her eyes flicking to her watch every few seconds.
Finally, the door to his office opened, and he emerged, his suit impeccably tailored, his tie perfectly knotted. He barely spared her a glance as he strode towards the elevator. "Miss Hathaway," he said, his voice a whip crack. "The car is waiting."
Emma hurried to keep up with him, her mind racing with the last-minute details. As they descended to the lobby, she took one final deep breath, steeling herself for the whirlwind trip ahead with one thought in mind.
new york here we come
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kawaimoonshine · 8 days ago
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💫🔺N7🔺💫
Happy N7 Day to the Mass Effect fans!!
Didn't get to make something last year so this year it is :D
But this is my custom Commander Shepard, Astoria Shepard :3
I'm happy with how this turned out but seriously, what it is with me and painting these past few months, this year I've painted more than.. *checks Instagram* okay in 2021 I did have a lot of paintings (4) otherwise every year (except for 2020) there is at least 1-2 paintings but this year, rn I have 3 finished and 1 in the works and another one I'm thinking/feeling of painting it, so it would be 5
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umbracirrus · 6 months ago
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thank you for providing the dragonborn x balgruuf content the fandom is so desperately lacking of. and also for being the only person right about balgruuf's character. so excited to read more of "the perfect storm" when its out!! :D
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Ahhhhhh thank you anon!!! You've made my day with this 💛💛💛
Have a cookie for being so sweet 🍪
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babycharmander · 4 months ago
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(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)
I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.
I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).
So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:
"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?
So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:
"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"
I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:
"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"
It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.
Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...
"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."
He sees himself as a monster.
And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.
"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"
Which... speaking of him and Ford...
Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.
Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)
Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.
And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.
And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.
After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.
He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.
And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.
"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"
I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?
In short,
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[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]
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imaginaryf1shots · 2 months ago
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Married? | Oscar Piastri
WC: 2.1K
Oscar x Wife!Reader
Summery: He never met to hide it, it's just the way he is.
Warning: none
Masterlist
Oscar Masterlist
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It was always a known thing, there was never any doubt in anyone that knew him, Oscar has always been destined to be an F1 driver. It was written. Anyone that knows him knows this. And you've known him almost all your life. Before he went to Europe and before he started travelling around for Karting and racing in the Formula series. It seems like there was never a point in your life where Oscar wasn't in it. What started as playground friendship turned to crushing on each other, turned to liking each other and then turned into a relationship. Not high school sweethearts, more like six grade sweethearts. No one expected your relationship to last due to you being so young, and still growing up and developing. Yet, the distance only made you grow fonder of each other. Your relationship survived him moving to the UK for school and racing, it survived the time difference and all the growing up you had to do. Video calls are your thing, you're the kind of people to have it on for hours doing mundane things not necessarily talking but just having the feeling that the other was there.
Now when you became 18, the next step wasn't surprising to those around you. You and Oscar talked about it for so long, you finished school already, so what was stopping you? Nothing. With the help of your parents you both got married, and so you relocated to the UK with Oscar. 
You went to Uni and he was off racing. Coming home to you was always the highlight of the day for Oscar, he'd leave his bags by the door and search for you in the apartment before he'd just all but throw himself at you just wanting some love and attention.
You'd be sitting on the sofa folding some laundry, the TV playing, the door would open and close and you would be none the wiser. Oscar would follow the sound of the TV finding you engrossed in the show that's playing, your hands moving on their own as you fold his shirt. Oscar would move to the sofa and you'd gasp in surprise, finally noticing him before he threw himself on the sofa, his head in your lap, his face hiding in your stomach.
"God, Osc, you scared me." You'd say but smile nonetheless, Oscar would mumble a 'sorry' and you'd barely understand it. Your hands go to his hair and you run your fingers through his locks, scratching ever so slightly. Oscar would groan and you lean down to kiss his head. "How was the flight?"
"Long." You hum and just let him have his time getting what he needs. Now it's not often that he'd fall asleep like that, but the flight was long and he didn't get any sleep, he doesn't remember when it happened, but he falls asleep. You'd stay like that for an hour or two, the TV still playing but the sound is lower until he'd wake up. Once he starts waking up, he starts moving around, he moves to his back and slowly opens his eyes, blinking up at you.
"Hey sleepyhead."
"Hey, I didn't realise I slept."
"Yeah, didn't even give me a hello kiss or anything." You teased him, Oscar sleepily sits up and places a hand on your cheek before he presses his lips to yours, once, twice, three times before deepens it. You sigh in content. Happy to have him in your arms after almost a week.
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Oscar didn't mean to hide it, he just didn't wear his ring, he lost it twice at races and since then he only wore it when he's not on a racing week. He's also not very talkative, he doesn't find himself sharing things about himself willingly, but if you ask he'll answer, you just have to prompt him. Maybe it was because he was a rookie, or because there was many things happening, but no one realised he was seeing someone in 2023, you've been to races, you didn't really like the limelight, not while you're still studying at least, so you'd go into the paddock alone, but you'd still be a guest of McLaren. Some people just assumed you're a family member (which is correct, but not how they thought) or just a close friend.
All of that came to an end when you finally finished Uni, and were free to travel more, and coming into the paddock with Oscar wasn't such a scary thing anymore. It all came with the fact that you got a new ring for Oscar and kind of 'proposed' to him with it in your living room, Oscar decided to try wearing his ring, he wouldn't have to take it off anyways. It's his wedding ring, and according to the rules he could keep it on.
It was a Grand Prix weekend, Oscar's family flew out for the race. You walked in with them, Nicole was by your side, a couple photographers took photos, manly because they're Oscar's family, not that they know about you. Getting into McLaren, someone tells Oscar that you're all here, you were back in Australia for 2 weeks, while he was at the factory working, it's more than you both had gotten used to in recent years. Oscar comes in and he ignores his family heading straight to you, you smile up at him and he leans in, giving you a hug and a quick kiss.
"Glad to know, you missed us." Nicole teased Oscar, and he went to hug her. She's always happy seeing how still in love you both are, it warms her heart. Her son is in a happy marriage while achieving his dream away from her. Oscar stands with you all as much as he could before he had to go back to work. You all made it to the hospitality.
"I heard Oscar's family is here." Lando walks in at one point, with a smile on his face, he greets everyone, stopping at you, seeing no similarities between you and Oscar. "I know I saw you before, but I don't know who you are."
"It's alright, I'm Oscar's w-."
"Girlfriend?" Lando cuts you off with a smile. "I knew he's in a relationship but he hasn't introduced you."
"No, I'm not-"
"Oh, are you not his girlfriend? I'm sorry."
"It's not tha-"
"I just want to meet his girlfriend, he never talks about anything unless you ask him and-"
"Lando, I'm his-"
"He seems like he's in a relationship, at least that's what I understood from him."
"I'm his wife."
"But I could be wrong and this is all a- wait... what?" Lando stops once he realises what you said, his eyes are wide while you just smile at him.
"I'm his wife." You say again, and his sisters all just giggle to themselves, finding it all very amusing. Lando looks at Nicole and Chris, as if he's waiting for them to say something, to say it's a joke, to deny it, anything.
"I told Oscar to just come out and say he's married." Nicole said shaking her head slightly, this is about to come out, and she knows Oscar will once again turn the internet on it's head.
"he's-you're-and." Lando looks to have malfunctioned. "I need a moment to come to terms with this."
Lando walks away in a daze, it leaves you all amused. You text Oscar telling him what happened with Lando.
Oscar didn't read your message, Lando walked in on him and his engineer while they were in a meeting.
"You-you- you have a wife?" Lando asked, and Oscar's gaze turned from confused to amused really quickly.
"Yeah." Oscar answered simply.
"What?" It was Tom's turn to be surprised.
"I'm married." Oscar held out his left hand showing his ring.
"I thought that was a family heirloom or something." Lando was exasperated.
"No, I lost one or two rings, so y/n, bought me a new one recently." Oscar explained.
"y/n? the girl you bring with you to races from time to time?" Tom asked remembering you, he saw you a few times, but there was never a sign that you're dating Oscar, never mind married to him.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"It just never came up." Oscar shrugged, leaving both men flabbergasted, astonished by the realisation.
"You're one of a kind, Oscar, seriously." Tom shook his head and sighed. "We have to get back to our meeting, this will have to wait."
It didn't take long for the news to travel, those that were in the hospitality and saw the whole thing go down with Lando went on and spread the news around. And Lando asked a few people if they knew, apparently only Zac knew, he thought Oscar wanted to keep it a secret so he said nothing.
The news took a while before it reached Williams.
"Mate, did you know Oscar is married?" Alex asked Logan, Logan frowned and looked up.
"Yeah." Logan answered as if it was a stupid question.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I thought it was a known thing, I don't know." Logan shrugged. "He's been married since he was 18."
"18!" This was an even bigger shock to the Williams driver.
"Yeah, the moment y/n turned 18, they got married."
"Wow."
And thus the news once again spread, this time the other way around, all the way back to McLaren.
By the time of the driver's parade almost everyone knew that the youngest member on track was married. Oscar was the last on the back of the truck/car thing. All eyes on the Aussie.
"What's... going on?" He asked as he moved down to an empty spot.
"Are you really married?" Charles asked.
"Yeah." It seemed like this was Oscar's favourite answer.
"So I have a daughter in law?" Charles asked and Oscar laughed before nodding. "Wow, they grow up so fast nowadays."
"And you've been married since you were 18?" Max was the one to ask, he's as curious as everyone.
"Yes, the month she turned 18, we got married, and she moved to the UK." Oscar informed them. "And before you ask, I knew her since we were like 5, and have been together since we were 10-11."
"That's crazy." George said to Alex next to him.
By the time the race was underway, a few cameras made it to the McLaren garage for a sight of you. As Oscar was leading the race, the camera flashed to you, with your name and Oscar Piastri's partner under it. The ones watching from home were left confused, but not for long. Oscar won his second race of his Formula 1 career in his 2nd season.
You made it to Parc Ferme, with his parents, his sisters opting to stay in the garage and not get squished. Oscar was the last of the top to make it back, he went to his team before he went straight to you, as always leaving his parents to be hugged after you.
"Congratulations, my love." You tell him, and he squeezes you tighter, the helmet is in the way, but you still kiss the side of it. Oscar then moves to his parents before he goes to get weighed and interviewed by Nico Rosburg.
"-and before we let you go, and not to take away from your win, I have to ask." Nico said and Oscar smiled, he knew what was about to be asked. "Set the records straight, are you married?"
"Yes, have been since I was 18." Oscar said and looked your way, and the camera panned to you, as you stood between his parents smiling with love and adoration for your husband.
"Well, it might be late, but congratulations." Nico said and patted his back, before Oscar made it to the cool-down room.
Cameras snapped a lot of pictures of you, as they waited for the podiums to start. It was obvious how familiar you are with Oscar's parents, and how they treated you like one of their daughters. The interaction was just filled with love and care. This has been going on for years, there's no denying it.
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"I didn't know it would be such big news." You said that night, as you and Oscar cuddled on the Sofa, having a quiet moment in the hotel with his family.
"I knew." Nicole said.
"I did too." Chris said.
"Me too." Hattie said.
"Of course it would."
"Obviously."
"Noted." You said and Oscar smiled, kissing the side of your head. "Now everyone knows you have a wife."
"And everyone from your university knows you have a husband."
"You two are still as awful as ever." Hattie said and rolled her eyes teasingly.
"You should've been used to it by now." Nicole said and smiled at her family.
Main Taglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . 
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eudaimaniacs · 2 months ago
Text
cherry (old! logan howlett x female reader)
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character/universe: logan howlett/wolverine (x-men/marvel)
word count: 1.7k words
warning/s: full-on smut (minors, dni). loss of virginity and age gap
notes: i have a headache from swimming yesterday but still managed to finish this in a day (so it's not proofread). i have tons of requirements to do so i may do an occasional small imagine once in a while. anyways, enjoy!
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You started dating Logan six months ago, and when the conversation about sex came up, you shamefully admitted that you're still a virgin. You didn't want to look like a little girl to the older man since you knew that he had dated and slept with numerous women in the past. When you let out those three words of truth, you expected him to break up with you. However, Logan smirked and remarked how he hadn't fucked a virgin for a long time.
So, it was a matter of waiting for you to lose your virginity to Logan.
You went to your close friends for sex advice. They weren't experienced with the topic but teased that you're going to fuck an old, attractive man. With a few good luck, you readied yourself for the day Logan will take your virginity. You didn't bother searching online since watching porn made you cringe. Additionally, the boys you dated were either clueless or too eager only fuck you. Logan wasn't like them; he cared and didn't date you because you were innocent and pretty.
One night, when you stayed at Logan's house, you decided to lose your virginity finally. You wore a white lace-trimmed tank top with black pajama shorts. You used the cherry lipgloss you bought for this occasion to make the night extra special. Logan donned the wifebeater tank top you loved. His salt-and-pepper hair and beard made him extra sexy, or maybe it was the age gap.
You two cuddled on the queen-sized bed you cleaned before this night. The softness of the pillows and the blankets didn't lessen your anxiety. With you touching his chest and Logan snaking his hand around your waist, you waited for the opportunity to bring up the conversation about sex again.
"Logan, honey? I have something to ask you," you whispered as you scratched his chin.
The older man hummed in agreement as he waited for your question.
Finding the right words, you blurted out, "Are you ready to have sex with me tonight?" With wide eyes and a beating heart, you hoped Logan wouldn't notice your nervousness.
He chuckled and kissed your cheek. Logan remarked, "I'm ready when you are, princess."
Your gaze softened as Logan agreed to have sex with you. However, it dawned on you that you didn't know how to start. Were you supposed to pleasure Logan first, or is he the one who should do it first? Should you take off your clothes when does it too? Who goes first? Who comes second? Your mind raced with the inexperience you didn't bother to fix.
"What's the matter, [Y/N]?" Logan noticed that you weren't taking action. You didn't want to admit you didn't know what to do. What if Logan wasn't attracted to your inexperience? What if he hated how awkward you are at initiating sex?
You took a deep breath before admitting to Logan, "I'm n-not too s-s-sure what to do, Logan. I tried to, you know, do my research about sex. S-so I'm sorry if I seem to be aw-"
Logan cut you off before finishing to tell him the truth. He sat up and rested on the headboard. The older man commanded you to take a seat on his lap. You quickly followed and rested your head on his chest. The beat of his heart assured you that Logan would be understanding about your anxiety about sex.
"It's okay, [Y/N]. You don't have to worry about having sex for the first time. I'm here to guide you. Remember when I told you how I hadn't fucked a virgin for a long time? I want your first time to be special, [Y/N]," Logan softly whispered as he caressed your back to relieve you.
You giggled and raised your head to kiss his neck gently. Logan chuckled at your sudden, playful attitude after assuring you everything would be okay. You pushed up your chest against his, and the older man seethed as he saw your breasts.
"Look at you now. You're now teasing me with your boobs. I thought you were nervous," Logan chuckled as he massaged your butt. You gave him a beck before replying, "Maybe you cast a spell on me, honey. I got a bit fired up with that sweet talk you did."
Logan lifted your chin and saw your glossy eyes accompanied by the cherry lipgloss. Your innocence, mixed with playfulness and the cute face and outfit you had, made Logan's heart race. He couldn't believe that you trusted him to be your first time. His rough, veiny hands caress your shoulder as he toys with the thin strap of your top. Your breath hitched up at the older man's soft and sensual action. You touched his chest to support yourself and felt your pussy wanting to be touched.
You slowly rubbed your clothed vagina on his black denim jeans as Logan went under your top to grope your breasts. You let out a shaky moan as you chased your high. Logan smirked as he saw your face contorting at the newfound pleasure.
"Let me do something, princess. Lay down for me," Logan grabbed your thighs, leading you to stop rubbing your pussy against his jeans. You were unsatisfied that he prevented you from chasing your climax. However, you were equally excited about what he would do next. You lay down on the bed as Logan told you and waited for his following action.
Logan kneeled at the end of the bed and asked, "May I take off your shorts, princess?" His rough hands caress the softness of your covered thighs. You slowly nodded, not wanting to keep Logan waiting for your response. He chuckled and reassured you that he would always be patient with you. You felt Logan sliding off your black pajama shorts, and you lifted your legs for him to take it off easier. The older man sucked his teeth as the sight of your lacy pink panties appeared.
Your heart was beating fast since you were one undergarment away from exposing your pussy. Logan pushed the fabric to the side and smelled your arousal. Sweet. He slowly circled your clit and licked your pussy to taste you. Logan moaned as he ate you; he wanted to do it fast as he had never tasted a virgin pussy before. However, knowing this was your first time, he took it slow. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation of Logan's tongue pleasuring you. You grabbed the bedsheets and screamed his name.
As you felt your stomach twisting, Logan stopped and wiped his lips coated with your arousal. You curved your eyebrows in disappointment as Logan continued teasing you. You whined about how he should stop it and remarked that you wanted to orgasm badly. Logan grabbed the hem of your tank top, telling you to take them off. He fondled your breasts and kissed you.
Logan shushed you and whispered, "I'm only prepping you, princess. I'm now going to give you the real thing." He stood up and unbuckled his belt for his massive penis to escape. You gasped at the length of it. How is it going to fit you? You were both hungry and scared of the enormous cock staring at you.
"Don't worry, [Y/N]. I'll take it slow, and you tell me if I need to take it out. Got it, princess?" Logan stared at your lust-filled eyes, waiting for your approval. You whispered a soft yes as you braced yourself for his length to push in. Logan grabbed your hips as he slowly entered inside of you. Your eyes suddenly opened at the foreign sensation penetrating you.
You let out a few tears but remained strong as you didn't want to embarrass yourself by tapping out. Logan saw it and whispered, "[Y/N], are you okay? Do I need to take it out?"
You shook your head and responded, "I'm okay, Lo. I need to adjust a bit to your length." Logan heartily chuckled as he rested his head beside your neck. You hugged his back and waited for the pain to subside. Taking a deep breath, you let out a small moan, signaling Logan to pick up the pace.
Logan started to thrust slowly and made sure that you weren't crying because of the pain. He lifted himself and pounded you. You grabbed his chest as you felt the shape of his dick molding your pussy. You screamed his name and told him how good it felt. Logan saw your bouncing tits and squeezed them.
"Lo-Logan, please kiss me. P-please, I need you to kiss me," you panted as you grasped the sheets. Logan leaned in to passionately kiss you. He tasted the sweetness of cherry lipgloss and let his tongue in. You scratch his back as you feel your high coming.
"I'm a-about to-fuck. I'm cumming, Logan!" You screamed as the older man quickened his pace to reach his high, too. You cried out pleasure as you felt his dick growing inside of you.
Logan hungrily kissed your neck and groaned at the sensation of your tightness. He went wild as he sensed his orgasm chasing him. You grabbed his hair to brace yourself from the immense pleasure coming.
"Let go, princess. Fuck, I'm close too. Come on, princess. Cum for me," Logan moaned as he quickly pounded for the two of you to release. You felt a wave of pleasure crashing over you as Logan did one effective thrust. You screamed out his name as your legs went numb at the pleasure.
Logan stayed inside of you as he released his cum inside of you. He pulled out to see the sheets stained with blood and your once-virgin pussy leaking with his cum. The older man kissed your forehead and grabbed a towel at your dresser to clean you up.
"How was it, princess? Was it good?" Logan asked as he gently wiped your thighs. You sat and rested your head on the board to look at him better.
You giggled and replied, "That was the best, Logan. I couldn't have asked for anything better." He softly grinned and leaned in to give you a soft, deep kiss. Logan savored the sweet taste of the cherry lipgloss. You hummed as he continued kissing you. And as the night became darker, the two of you slept soundly as the imprint of your gloss and virginity marked Logan and his warm cum filling you.
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eudaimaniacs - 2024
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flowersforbucky · 4 months ago
Text
moth to a flame
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bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader
"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."
word count: 4.9k
summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.
warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending, 18+ only
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“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”
You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.
The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.
It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.
Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.
Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.
You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.
Useless.
You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.
Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.
But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.
“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”
“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.
“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”
“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.
“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.
If only things had been as simple as he had expected.
You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.
“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”
“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”
Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.
“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”
Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.
“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”
He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”
“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”
You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.
Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.
“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.
“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.
And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.
Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.
“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.
“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.
“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”
“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”
The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.
You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.
Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.
You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.
Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.
You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -
Benign. Homecoming. One.
You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.
Freight car.
You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.
Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.
It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.
He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.
Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.
Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.
The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.
You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.
“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”
“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”
“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.
“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”
A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.
You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.
“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.
“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”
You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.
“You look–”
“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.
“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?
“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.
You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.
“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”
She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.
“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.
“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.
“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”
“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.
Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.
“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.
You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.
Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.
Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.
They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.
They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.
You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.
Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.
“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.
“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”
“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”
“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.
“Thanks, Nat.”
“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”
“Goodbye, Natasha.”
She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.
You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.
Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.
Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.
Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.
You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -
You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.
I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–
There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.
Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..
You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.
Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.
“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”
Silence. No hint of any further movement.
You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”
Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.
Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.
You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.
Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.
“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.
It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.
“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.
He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.
“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.
“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.
His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.
Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.
The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.
His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.
“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”
You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.
Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.
“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.
You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.
You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.
“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.
You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.
Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.
The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.
He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.
You have to trust that.
He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.
You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.
When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.
He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.
Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.
And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.
He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.
Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.
“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.
You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.
You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.
You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.
You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.
He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.
Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.
Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.
He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.
His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.
You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.
He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.
He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.
He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.
He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.
“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.
You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.
Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.
You don't know which you find hotter.
You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.
You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.
He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.
His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.
He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.
You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.
Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.
You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.
He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.
You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.
“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”
“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.
“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”
He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.
Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.
He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.
He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.
“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.
You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.
“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.
"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."
♡♡♡♡♡
my masterlist
thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!
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certaimromance · 2 months ago
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𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.
Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.
Words: 2,3k.
TW: lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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Saturday afternoon
“Two dollars?!”
Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.
You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.
It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.
“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”
You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.
“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”
Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.
“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.
“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.
It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.
“My love life is going downhill.” You said.
Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.
“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”
“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.
There was a long, awkward silence.
Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.
“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”
At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.
“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”
“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.
You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.
“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”
“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”
“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”
You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.
“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”
Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”
“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”
When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.
“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”
You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.
However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.
“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.
“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.
“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”
“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.
“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.
You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”
They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.
You weren't going to lose your mind over this.
Monday morning
You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.
All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.
But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.
A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.
“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.
But obviously, it wasn't him.
“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.
“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.
In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.
“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.
“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.
He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm so sorry, I just thought-”
“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”
That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.
“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.
His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.
“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.
The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”
You tilted your head slightly to one side.
“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.
Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.
“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I...I thought you-” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”
“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.
“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it-” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.
“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”
With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.
“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.
He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”
“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”
Perhaps he was your prince after all.
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xvysarene · 3 months ago
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𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝
Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.1k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Profanities, Mentions of wounds Summary: There was a connection between you and Sylus that went beyond the typical boss & his right-hand woman dynamic. When you finally had enough of his recent behaviour since his return, you decided it was time to quit.
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]
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“We agree to your terms, and as soon as we finish the down payment, we expect to see the firearms—”
Before you could even finish, the heavy double doors swung open with a crash. Sylus strode in, a dark aura clinging to him, and you knew that nothing good would come out of it.
“The deal is off.”
You gasped. “You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Ms. Y/N, I thought you said you could handle this deal solo?” Marcel—that cunning eel of a man—drawled lazily. “Looks like Mr. Sylus here still doubts your ability, even after all this time.”
On any other day, you would have knocked the smug grin off Marcel’s face. But your attention was fixed on your boss, Sylus, whose expression was a cold, impenetrable mask of indifference.
“I’ve worked on this for months. Alone. When you were gone chasing shadows,” you hissed, “You have no right to dictate me.”
Crimson eyes met your gaze with a fire of his own as he stepped closer. “And do I need to remind you who’s the leader of this organisation?”
How dare he!
It took a while for the others in the N109 Zone to stop belittling you, to finally trust you as Onychinus’s indispensable weapon who could hold her own ground, even entrusted to run the organisation in his absence.
And he knew this.
“I don’t meddle in your affairs, so stay out of mine.”
He exactly knew what, or who, you were talking about.
Somehow, this conversation was no longer about the deal; it was about something else that had been creating a rift between you both.
“You don’t understand—”
“You have no idea what I understand!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at his firm chest.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Luke entering the room to usher Marcel out.
“If you’re looking for a new job, my organisation is always open for a pretty little thing, buttercup.” He threw a mischievous wink your way.
The man was clearly not uncomfortable with the commotion; it was satisfying to see Onychinus crumbling before his own eyes.
Kieran cautiously stepped forward. “Boss, Y/N, let’s take a moment—”
“You think I wouldn't find out about your little escapade with ‘Miss Hunter’?”
That struck a nerve; Sylus’s eyes narrowed. 
“What?” you continued, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Mephisto accidentally charged your card with millions just to buy every single protocore in the auction?”
Any heartfelt emotion you held for him was swallowed by fury and disappointment that had been building for some time. This was the last straw, a volcano ready to erupt.
“I’ve warned you before, Sylus.”
Ever since he came back from doing who knew what, he had been distracted. Physically, he was there—but he wasn't present.
Conversations that once flowed easily between you were now peppered by half-hearted responses.
As a last resort, you decided to prepare dinner for him and the twins that one night, something you periodically did when the mood struck, in the hopes of getting him to come around.
Luke and Kieran were happily munching on the lasagna and sipping wine from Sylus’s favourite bottle, their lively chatter filling up the dining room.
But the man who was supposed to be the centre of it all took only a single bite before abandoning it for his phone.
“Sylus, could you please put your phone down and enjoy the dinner?”
The twins froze, eyes flickering between the two of you, sensing the impending storm.
Yet Sylus didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention firmly fixed on the screen in his hand. Somehow, it was more important than the company around him.
“Sylus—”
“Can you get off my back for once?” Red eyes snapped to yours, flashing with irritation.
“You are losing me,” you repeated the words you had uttered that night. The tremble in your voice was a blend of rage and a deeper, more vulnerable feeling.
Sylus's eyes flashed, revealing the first hint of emotion that you recognised—a wounded look, perhaps, or something else that you didn’t dare to think about.
Kieran, determined to defuse the tension, squared his shoulders. “We all should take a breather and approach this with clearer heads.”
Eyes still fixed on your boss’s handsome face, the words came out with unwavering finality, “I quit.”
Ripping the brooch from where it rested just above your heart, you hurled it with such force that it bounced off his chest before skidding across the floor.
The sharp, unmistakable crack echoed throughout the silent room.
Sylus's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Fine.”
And that was it. There were no apologies, not even a 'thank you' for your dedication to Onychinus all this time.
“Please, don't do this. We need you,” Kieran’s voice had a note of desperation in it.
A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Your boss has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me anymore. Apparently, he has more pressing matters than ensuring the organisation's interest.”
Sylus crossed his arms, his voice cutting like a cold knife. “If you're going to leave, then leave. We don't have time for theatrics.”
With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.
Luke, having just returned from escorting Marcel out, caught sight of the unexpectedly angry tears in your eyes and called out your name as you rushed down the hallway.
What you didn’t expect from quitting was the depth of void it created in your life. You missed the twins’ oddball humour and even found yourself longing for Mephisto’s often irritating caws.
It felt strange not to see the black bird outside of your bedroom window or atop the lamppost, as it normally would.
Despite the financial cushion provided by Onychinus’s paycheck, restlessness drove you back to the N109 Zone before long.
“Thought that we’d never see you again, missy.”
The familiar surroundings of Elysium provided a soothing balm to the loneliness gnawing inside you—the rich scent of aged booze mingled with the sound of rolling dice filling your senses.
“You’re not the only one surprised,” you muttered lowly, sitting down on one of the stools.
“Guess you are more used to staying here than Linkon now,” the young woman behind the bar chuckled. “Many might see it as a slum, but the N109 Zone has its charm.”
During Sylus’s absence, you had called the base as a second home. Staying there made it easier for you to manage the daily operation, sparing you the hassle of travelling back and forth to Linkon.
“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house.” Before you could answer, the woman beat you to it. “Rum and lemonade?”
A sudden feeling of yearning washed over you. It was Sylus who had first introduced you to this concoction right here, you had even questioned his taste at the time, but it had since become one of your favourite drinks.
You gulped the emotion down. “Yes, please.”
She sent you a sympathetic smile, obviously understanding what crossed your mind.
The burn of the rum started to warm your body as the second glass went down easily. Each sip brought back memories of standing side by side in battles and conversations shared in quieter moments, a foolish longing that settled deep within your chest. 
As you set it aside, you felt someone slid on the vacant stool beside you, encroaching on your personal space.
“What’s a pretty girl doing here all alone?”
“Leave me alone.” You didn’t even look at his direction.
Funnily enough, though you normally no longer felt the weight of the brooch—a symbol of your affiliation with Sylus and Onychinus—you now felt its absence vividly, like a phantom heaviness above your left breast.
With it, no one ever truly dared to come near you, wary of crossing paths with Sylus.
Without it, however, meant you were no longer under Sylus’s protection.
The man sidled closer, clearly not taking the hint. “Still playing hard to get even without Sylus behind you? You should have seen him dragged out of the raid like a ragdoll by his pair of thugs. It was pathetic.”
Your heart stuttered, finally looking at the man beside you. “What did you say?” 
Sylus, hurt? It was unthinkable. You had seen first-hand how his wound healed quickly.
“Heh, you really don’t know, do you?” His smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “The idiot went to finish Marcel off by himself last night. Imagine taking down dozens of Marcel’s men alone, with all their weapons.”
He daringly placed a hand on your thigh, fingers digging in. “So bitch, you’d better get off your damn high horse and listen. Without Sylus, you’re just another pretty face.”
In a quick manoeuvre, you slammed his head on the bar. His painful howl was cut short as you drew your concealed gun, the barrel pressed firmly against the back of his skull. “Touch me one more time and I’ll paint this bar with your brains.”
The barkeeper approached, her expression impassive as she took in the sight of your gun pressing against the man's head. However, when she noticed the colour draining from your face, a look of surprise crossed her features.
“You didn’t know?” she asked, her tone softer than you expected. “I thought that was the reason you came back here.”
Ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons, you stormed out of the bar, the weight of fear heavy on your shoulders.
The city's familiar streets blurred past as you made your way to the base, and you thought you heard familiar caws in the distance.
You didn't spare a second thought as the electronic lock still buzzed with recognision when your palm and iris scans were verified. The reinforced doors opened, granting you access just like usual.
Luke and Kieran met you in the hallway, no doubt alerted to your arrival. Whether by Mephisto or the security alert, you weren’t sure.
Even with their masks on, their surprised body language was unmistakable.
“How did you find out? Boss made sure that none of us tips you off,” Luke asked.
“It’s true?” you demanded, your voice was tight with anxiety. “About Sylus?”
The twins exchanged silent glances. “He’s in his quarters,” Kieran said slowly. “But be warned, he is in a foul mood.”
As you moved swiftly down the familiar corridors, your heart pounded in your chest. The smell of antiseptic hit your senses as you slid the door open, revealing the dimly lit room.
Sylus was seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he changed his bandages. “I told you guys to leave me alone. I’m fine,” his voice gruff.
You took a steadying breath. “Sylus.”
His silhouette tensed, and the set of his shoulders turned rigid. Slowly, he turned to look at you.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was rough.
“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. The sight of bandages covering his injuries made it difficult to articulate your thoughts. “Why did you go after Marcel?”
“This isn’t a place for someone like you right now.”
That comment was odd, but you dismissed it as you crossed the room, closing the gap between you. Up close, you could see the bruises and wounds peppering his body—dark, angry splotches that marred his skin, evidence of the brutality inflicted by Marcel’s men.
While the healing process was slower than usual, it was still significantly faster than it would be for an ordinary person.
You had been working with him for quite some time yet you had never before seen him in such a state.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, catching your concerned gaze.
“You don’t look fine,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what happened.”
Sylus shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he rested his back on the headboard. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, “Marcel was the one behind the bombing of the hunter’s grandma’s house.”
As much as you felt sorry for the UNICORN hunter, you couldn’t understand why he would put his life on the line for her.
Was it because of the connection they had with the Aether Core? Or was it something else?
Unconsciously, your steps faltered backwards. The anxiety for his well-being took a backseat as the grip of jealousy clawed at you.
It was stupid to feel this way.
Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot, your body freezing in place. The unexpected use of his Evol caught you off guard. 
“You came all the way here, so you’d better damn well listen to me before jumping to any conclusions.”
Even in his weakened state, he managed to pull you back to the edge of the bed and keep you seated there. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but not so far that you couldn’t see the fatigue etched into his features.
“I kept her around because she was useful. Marcel had been trying to frame Onychinus for the bombing.” His fists clenched, knuckles white. “But that wasn’t what set me off, that scumbag had been running his mouth about you, spreading lies of your incompetence, claiming that you’re nothing more than an empty shell.”
You looked at his injuries pointedly. “You took on his entire army because he taunted me?”
He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t you see? I was the one feeding him that narrative. He had the front seat to everything that happened that day. I’m the one who unravelled the respect you worked so hard to earn.”
Was that a hint of guilt you heard in his voice?
“He’d been saying that you’d be better suited working in a whorehouse.”
Well, that explained the man's aggressiveness back at the bar, you thought.
“I’m not your responsibility anymore, you don’t need to protect me.”
Sylus looked away. Despite his rough edges, there was a glint of raw, exposed emotion that he struggled to conceal.
“It’s not just about responsibility,” his voice low, “Some things... they’re not as simple as just walking away.”
This was the Sylus you recognised—the same man who, in fleeting moments, had looked at you with an intensity or a softness that spoke of unfulfilled longing.
Everything had shifted since that one kiss, an impulsive act born from an evening of too much drink and unspoken feelings. A kiss that, in its haze, blurred the lines between what was accepted and what was desired.
Yet, every subtle brush of his hands, every act of ensuring your safety, was a quiet rebellion against the boundaries he had set from the start—this was not a place where work and pleasure were meant to mingle.
“That was the reason you called the deal off that day.” You fit the puzzles together.
He nodded. “I had a feeling that he was up to something.”
“And yet, I still don’t understand why you had to go behind my back with the hunter. This”—you gestured to his injuries and the distance between you—“could’ve been prevented.”
You tried to mask the hurt. “I thought you trusted me.”
Sylus shifted closer, and even though you felt that his Evol no longer held you in place, you allowed him.
“It wasn’t about trust, not in the way you think,” his voice was softer now, “If he found out you were involved, I couldn’t risk him coming after you.”
“I don’t need your protection as much as I need your honesty. And you were being a jerk.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe.”
He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning in closer, he cradled your jaw with a careful touch.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat at the intensity in his eyes that he didn’t try to mask any longer. “For caring. But I’d rather not see you get hurt again.”
“Can’t promise,” he murmured, “I will always stand between you and anyone who dares to harm you.”
You could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched yours, moving in a gentle, unhurried rhythm.
He wanted to savour this moment, to truly taste you with a clear head, unclouded by any alcohol.
Though, before long, a more primal voice seemed to overtake him. The intensity of the kiss grew, fueled by the unfiltered emotions coursing between you.
It was a fierce, unrestrained need to claim you.
No longer feeling tender, his tongue urged your lips open with a determined persistence. Sylus groaned into your mouth as you parted easily, the need to taste you becoming more urgent.
As he took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, your gaze locked with the searing flame in his eyes.
A sudden weight pressed against your neck, and you looked down, startled, to find a crow whose wings arched protectively around a red diamond pendant. It was similar to the brooch he had given you, but this was more than an accessory.
It was more personal—more intimate.
“Will you do me the honour of becoming my partner again?” His voice was husky with emotion. “Onychinus needs you. I need you.”
Carefully, you pushed him down the bed, legs spreading daringly caging his form. “Maybe if you beg a little more, I’ll consider it.” 
Both his eyebrows arched in surprise, visibly taken aback by your boldness.
“But, weren’t we supposed to keep work and pleasure separate?” you teased.
A hint of a smirk curled at the edges of his lips. “I’m the boss. I make the rules. Besides, this is more than just a pleasure.”
His large palms settled on your hips, fingers splaying across the curve of your body with a possessive yet tender grip, pulling you closer.
“Can I start by begging you to kiss my wounds and make them better then?”
As he whispered his request, his masculine hands sneaked their way inside your clothes, fingers trailing a line of fire against your skin. Just as the moment heated up, a rustling noise came from outside the door.
The two of you paused, eyes narrowing with suspicion. 
Suddenly, the door creaked open just a fraction. Before either of you could react, Luke and Kieran let out a startled yelp.
“Oh no! They’re doing the hanky panky!” Luke whispered loudly, scandalised.
In a flurry of hurried movements, the twins slammed the door closed and bolted down the hallway, leaving you both staring after them in stunned silence.
Sylus sighed, hiding his face in the soft bend of your neck. “We’ll definitely have to set some new rules about privacy too.”
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⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST
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lampiridaes · 5 months ago
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♬ now playing: "falling for you"
-> don't you see me? i think i'm falling for you (fallingforyou - the 1975)
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summary. various hsr men realizing they're in love with you
chars. dan heng , sunday , aventurine , jing yuan
notes. THIS ONE IS FOR U MIZU-ANON (still gonna call u that despite the username change) had sm fun writing this. i am a biiiiig loser for these types of tropes i need to admit it. I HOPE WHEN U READ THIS U ENJOY MIZU-ANON!!!!!! LOVE U <3
contains. fluff, pre-established relationship, spoiler-free, reader is a trailblazer but not the trailblazer, march & trailblazer mentioned (dan heng), 'pretty' used as a compliment for reader (jing yuan)
inspired by -> this post!
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track one: dan heng
staying up late talking to you. dan heng tends to pull all-nighters, but he never expected you to join in one time. it was actually a bonding moment—he felt as if you grew closer since that day. it wasn't exactly a deep talk, it was more like an icebreaker. compared to march and the trailblazer, dan heng was much more reserved, so you saw a different side to him that night. one that you ended up seeing more and growing quite fond of.
always turning their head if your name is mentioned. every morning when the express crew gets up and eat breakfast together, dan heng finds himself always looking over whenever someone calls you. "[name], let's share!" march 7th would exclaim, then the black-haired man's attention immediately turned to your direction.
... and when you notice that a certain someone is staring at you, you make eye contact and smile, which seemed to have flustered him a little. ah, he's growing smitten, slowly.
track two: sunday
realizing certain traits about you that he finds endearing, your curiosity being the most prominent one. with sunday being a halovian, you couldn't help but admire his features, namely his wings. yet you were far too shy to ask if you could touch them—after all, what if he were to feel uncomfortable? but, to your surprise, sunday was the one that offered, finally acknowledging your silent wish. his wings were undeniably soft, but also quite sensitive, fluttering away from your touch. at first, you thought you did something wrong, but judging from the light blush on the oak family head's face, you could tell he actually enjoyed it.
realizing he's in a better mood when you're in a good mood. being head of the oak family, sunday has a tough job. and yet, when he sees you smiling to yourself, sometimes even attempting to help him in any way you can, sunday finds an odd warmth in his chest. one he doesn't experience quite often.
track three: aventurine
the first smile you share. sometimes you wonder whether or not aventurine is serious in certain situations. sometimes you wonder if he's even your friend or if he's using you in a gamble you aren't even aware of. but that one fateful day when he met your gaze and smiled, you could feel your heart skip a beat. aventurine constantly wears a confident smirk, one that makes him seem like someone to be weary of. and that smile of his... perhaps you were the lucky one this time.
flirting with you. actually, your friendship as a whole had some... weirdly romantic undertones, but after a while, the both of you sort of started to truly think about the entire thing. was he serious when he said that you were the only person he wanted? were you serious when you said you wouldn't mind it if he kissed you? only one way to find out, no?
track four: jing yuan
getting things that remind him of you. whether it'd be a shiny trinket he figured you'd like, or even an expensive piece of jewelry, jing yuan slowly started gifting you different things quite frequently. and whenever you'd ask, his response would always be, "it looks pretty, just like you."
finding time for you and spending his free time around you. it's no secret that jing yuan is a busy man, being the general of the luofu. and yet, after those hours are finished, or he managed to catch a break in the middle of the day, he always looks for you somewhere in exalting sanctum and ask if you'd like to take a short stroll with him. you answer yes every time.
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lyrefromthesea · 5 months ago
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Male pillars x reader - bringing them their favourite food.
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author's note: due to a comment I've received on an earlier post, i'll not write for Muichiro anymore. i've stated before that i do not write sexual content for minors, nor do i engage in writing romantic relationships including them. everything i've written for him was seen as a platonic relationship between him and the reader. since my statement fell in deaf ears, i've decided to leave him out completely. i do not feel comfortable mentioning him in my posts anymore, my deepest apologies.
request: how would the pillars react to receiving their favourite food from you?
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
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Tengen:
you were standing in the kitchen, whistling to yourself. today had been good so you decided to make your husband a little treat.
the market had been rather full, but you walked through the crowd and bought the ingredients you needed for his favourite dish.
seaweed. rice. and already prepared fugu. it had taken quite some time to find it, but you did it nonetheless.
standing in the kitchen, you had already made a plate of fugu sushi. at least that's what you thought. when you turned around to place another piece on the plate, it looked like there was one missing. have you forgotten one?
placing your finished piece on the plate, you turned around to make more. finally, you would be finished-
and another one was gone.
"Tengen! stop stealing the fugu sushi!" you scolded, not surprised when you heard quiet footsteps behind you. he wasn't a shinobi for nothing.
"sorry, darling. you looked so flamboyant, i didn't want to interrupt you!" he answered, wrapping muscular arms around you. a laugh escaped you, feeling him place his chin on the top of your hair.
"have i ever told you that you're the best?" he teased, finally freeing you from his embrace.
"i already know, that's why we're married."
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Obanai:
you placed a bowl of tororo konbu right in front of him, telling him that you tried your best. naturally, he thanked you, but he didn't dive in like you would've expected him to do.
"what's wrong?" you asked, wondering if you had messed up the dish. it was your first time making it, perhaps you had missed a step or overcooked something.
"i.. could you maybe..?" Obanai asked, he appeared much more timid than usual. you tried understanding what was wrong.
seeing his finger brush against his mask, you understood, he still felt insecure about his face. you hadn't been in a relationship for long, he probably needed time to get used to this. "of course."
"just know that i would never judge you for what i see." you added, placing a kiss on his temple. truthfully, you were saddened about his request, but you wanted to give him the time he needed.
Obanai, on the other hand, was touched by your words. his meal long forgotten, he stood up, taking your hands in his.
"we should marry."
you looked at him, first shocked, and then you started laughing. perhaps he overreacted just a bit, but who could blame him?
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Rengoku:
sweet potatoes. so many sweet potatoes.
when you've told Rengoku you could cook his favourite dish in the near future, he had been incredibely happy about it.
he came back with a load of sweet potatoes the next day, his whole head nearly dissapearing behind the amounts of the root vegetable he had bought.
now, another day later, you put miso soup and sweet potatoes for two on the table, smiling at your enthusiastic husband. he had offered to help you the whole time, which eventually led you to ban him from the kitchen.
he nearly devoured the dish as soon as you were sat on the opposite side of the table. it made you chuckle, seeing him swallow the huge bite he took down.
"umai!"
"you've outdone yourself, i'm glad i brought some sweet potatoes home!" he brightly smiled, earning another laugh from you. some sweet potatoes?
"Kyojuro, you brought a ton of them home." you countered, pointing at the rest of the potatoes you've put on the counter for now. "that will probably be enough for a month worth of miso soup with sweet potatoes!"
"sounds good, don't you think?"
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Sanemi:
Sanemi plopped down on the engawa, letting out a heavy sigh. training had been rather hard, but he needed to stay fit. nevertheless, his muscles ached and he could really take a break.
he debated over going inside, he trained enough. a shower wouldn't hurt, he was sweating, dampened hair was sticking to his forehead. the man sighed, standing up to finally move inside.
however, when he saw you standing right behind him, he froze. you were looking up at him with wide eyes, as if you tried surpising him. he looked down at your hands - you were holding something - only now realizing that he had been right. you did try to surpise him.
he looked at the plate in your hands, it was filled with ohagi. his favourite food. his eyes moved back to your face, watching you tilt your head.
"it's for you." you told him, tilting your head to the side. "let's go inside, you've trained enough." you smiled, nodding towards the door. he nodded, following you into the kitchen. you placed the ohagi down on the counter, watching him slowly take one.
"you didn't have to." he said, already having bitten into the one in his hand. you chuckled at his words, he had nearly eaten the ohagi with one bite, yet he claimed he didn't need any.
"i needed a reason to get you away from training." you admitted, a sly smile on your face. but both of you knew he would've listened to you no matter what.
"i would've stopped anyways." he answered, placing the ohagi he had picked up to the side. he came closer, watching your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"what? why?" you asked, not questioning why he came closer. in a matter of seconds, you were in his arms, your eyes squeezing shut in disbelief.
"i wanted to shower." he smirked, basically squishing his sweaty body against yours. you let out a whine, trying to free yourself from his hug, but only managing to do so when he let go.
"great, now i can shower too!" you scolded, seeing him laugh to himself. he walked towards the bathroom, seemingly wanting to wash himself.
"let's eat the ohagi after you're finished."
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Giyuu:
Giyuu didn't know what he had expected when he came home today, but he certainly didn't think it would be the smell of freshly cooked food.
no, scrap that. he was often greeted by the nice smell of a promising meal. this was different. it wasn't just any meal.
"welcome home, Giyuu." you greeted, watching him step into the kitchen. you looked content, already knowing that you would make him happy.
"are you hungry? i prepared something for you." you smiled, seeing him nod slowly. when you moved away from the table, his gaze wandered towards the bowls full of food.
your gaze was fixed on him, wanting to catch his reaction. he wasn't the type to voice his happiness, but you certainly caught the way he looked at the salmon daikon you made.
the lightest twitch of his eyebrows and the way his eyes narrowed showed his interest. he stared at the food for a moment, the quiet grumble of his stomach revealing how hungry he truly was.
but he didn't immediately start eating. instead he looked back at you, his gaze softening.
"i've got you this" he muttered, extending his hand towards you. you stared in awe, a small bag of your favourite sweets being placed in your hands.
"let's eat them for dessert, Giyuu."
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Gyomei:
when you brought home the ingredients for takikomi gohan. you have wanted to surprise Gyomei with his favourite dish.
you stood in the kitchen, cutting the vegetables into small pieces, as you hummed to yourself. Gyomei should've been home in an hour, at least that's what you've thought.
"i'm home." you heard his deep voice call from the hallway. your head snapped up, looking at the ingredients and then towards the door. you wouldn't have enough time to put everything away. before you even had the chance to react, he already came through the door.
"..are those?" he stopped in the doorway, his head turning towards you. you knew he was blind, but his ability to detect your exact location surpised you ever so often.
the smell of his favourite food hung in the air, almost as if the world had wanted to ruin your surprise.
"i wanted to surprise you." you admitted, lowering your head. you knew he wouldn't be disappointed, but you've planned this since last week. he must've sensed your sadness, walking towards you and putting his hand over yours.
"i can help you, let's cook together." he offered, carefully taking the knife out of your hand. truthfully, you nearly objected, not wanting him to hurt himself, however, you nearly chuckled thinking of the large weapon he was wielding.
"let's call it a cooking date then." you smiled, opening the drawer to get a second knife.
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kaysungshine · 3 months ago
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Redamancy: Part II ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full
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(If you haven't read part one, you definitely should!)
{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (bestie!jisung)
{ Genre } - NSFW; s/a/f trifecta, now friends to enemies to lovers, pining
{ Synopsis } - Things are awkward now, you're avoiding each other. In fact you distanced yourself from the entire group. What happens when Ji confronts you? What happens when Chan does a 180 and tries to befriend you? And what happens when Chan finally has you alone in his room?
{ WC } - 14.3k (I am so sorry 🥺) + 2 screenshots
{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, lowkey POV switch , lots and lots of angst, eventual smut & fluff, swearing, use of babygirl, multiple nicknames for members, choking, drinking, bestie jisung crying, hyunjin being a logical romantic, y/n being a little toxic but learning from it, they're honestly both a lotta stupid, oral(f. receiving), dry humping, hickeys and bruising, questionable breath play (please research if you plan on doing this, do it safely), chans nipples are sensitive, he's just sensitive in general with y/n, fingering, needy chan, members teasing, talk of edging, talk of bdsm, these two are VOCAL as hell, so lots of moaning, groaning, whining, whimpering, mewling, and dirty talk during sex, unprotected sex (piv), pull out method (again don't do this, practise safe sex), much cringe, much awkward, but they overcome it (LMK if I forgot any, I'm sorry)
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.
{ A/N } - Alright almost a month later, and I finally finished part two!! Please don't hate meeee, I beg your forgiveness, please. It took me a while because I just couldn't stop writing and adding things. Editing also took FOREVER, because I wasn't confident that it would satisfy you guys. I'm still not sure. So I apologize if this didn't live up to your expectations, again, please be gentle with me ♡. Understand that this is only my 2nd SKZ fic, so I'm still learning about how to portray each character, and how to piece things together seamlessly!
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Chan was starting to worry. It had been almost two weeks and he still hadn't seen you, nor heard from you. It wasn't like you two really spoke outside of questioning the other about Jisungs' whereabouts. There were the occasional texts, again about Jisung. He didn't know what to say to you to begin with. Apologize? He already did that, and it only seemed to make you more upset. But that was in the moment, and both your emotions were on overdrive. 
The other members were starting to notice your absence, questioning Han about it. Asking if you were okay. You'd even started avoiding all the public areas at the building. No one was even sure if you were eating during the day, or there at all. You didn't go to the cafeteria, break rooms, or practise rooms. No one caught you in the lounge areas, elevator, or the stairwell. No one even saw you coming into or leaving the building. It was to the point where Hyunjin was nearly planning steakout missions with Jisung. And poor Ji. He only got to see you twice since that night. A drastic decrease in comparison to how often he usually spends time with you. Chan only knew that because he overheard him talking to Minho about it. That was all he heard before Han noticed him standing there, and left for his room, sending him a spine chilling glare along the way. 
And Chan knew it really was all his fault when Minho just gave him a curiously sad look, and patted him on the shoulder. You obviously said something to Han, who said something to Minho. He wonders who else knows how bad he messed up. 
He was racking his brain trying to figure out how to fix this. Never in a million years had he thought he'd actually get a chance to experience such a quintessential moment with you. He'd liked you for so long, it was starting to turn into more than that. Ever since he'd seen you helping a new trainee navigate the building, he grew interested in your kind heart first and foremost. He's sure he's been through all the emotions. Excitement, because you started hanging around with them and you fell right into the dynamic so easily. Anxiety, because he didn't know how to approach you at first. Jealousy, when Han got all of the attention from you. Anger, when he thought you and Han started dating secretly. Embarrassment, when he realized how wrong he was. Hope, when you two shared a hug, even though it was a very awkward hug. Despondent, when he still couldn't figure out how to act around you, letting whatever growing friendship you two had begun, stall. And now regretful. But not regret for kissing you, touching you, or nearly fucking you. No, regret that he had stopped. 
Such a beautiful moment, where he was truly lost in bliss. And he halted it. He let his anxiety get to him, his internal conflict wouldn't shut up.
He truly was worried about the technicality of it all. The rules, the company, the media, the fans. Worst of all, you would receive the brunt of it. He didn't know how to protect you from it all. He was constantly going back and forth in his head. How could he make it work? Would you even want to make it work? Did you even like him? What did you think about him exactly? 
He wasn't blind. Every once in a while he'd catch your eyes on him for a little too long. Any 'accidental' physical contact you had with him would linger. And he knew there was a certain smile you'd reserved just for him. Not to mention, you were always the first to reach out directly, and make conversation with him. He was always too afraid to. He felt like a coward. And when he finally had the courage to make a move, a bold move, a ravenous move... His ego suddenly deflated when he realized his actions could be taken the wrong way.
He panicked.
He doesn't want you to think that he just wants sex from you. That you're just a fling. A one night stand. A hookup. No he wanted to do it the right way. He wanted to take you on a date, he wanted to learn more about you, to meet your friends. He wanted you to meet his family, to meet Berry. He even fantasized about planning a special date to ask you to be his girlfriend. He fantasized about anniversaries, about holidays spent together, a life spent together. He wanted to give you the world. He fell for you hard. And in that moment, he felt like he was doing it all backwards. So he stopped. It nearly killed him, but he stopped. And he should've done anything, quite literally anything else but stop.
When he saw the spark in your eyes dimming, only to be replaced with apprehension. He immediately apologized, and spat out a quick blurb about being inappropriate. 
Your entire face just sunk, and he shut down. There was nothing more he could say about it, not in that moment. And he felt even worse when you said you understood, but he didn't let it show. You didn't understand, not really. There was no way in hell you could, and he desperately wanted to just spill everything that second. But he wanted to be sober, wanted you to be sober, so instead he told you to drink water. And go to bed. 
What the hell was wrong with him. 
He even made sure to wake up early the next morning, anticipating to somehow get the chance to talk to you. When you came running down the hall, he was sure that it was fate. The chance that you two had alone time this early was perfect. He had hoped that this would all be sorted out. If he confessed, maybe you would too. Then he could explain last night, and you two could talk about it. And if it didn't work out like that, at the very least he could try to preserve your friendship. It would be painful to remain just friends, but he didn't want you out of his life. He couldn't imagine that. He doesn’t think he could handle that. After he greeted you, he noticed your eyes had tears in them. You were starting to hyperventilate, and tremble. 
Then you were leaving. 
Even though he's come up with world class lyrics, he seemed to be failing with his words lately. He didn't ask if you were okay, or what was wrong, or breach the topic that was clearly needing clarification. No, instead, he followed up with asking if you wanted breakfast. 
You didn't even look at him. The tone of your voice was glacial, freezing him right to the spot. He'd never heard you sound like that. He just stood there, watching the door close. Listening to your car start, listening to you drive off. And then he stood there more, afraid to move. 
When Jisung came running out 15 minutes later, he was still standing there. Han saw your things were gone, and knew that you left. Chan only decided to move when Han uttered five angry words to him. 
'You really fucked up, Chan.'
He knew he did. And he didn't know where to begin to fix it...
"--Channie-hyung!" 
He whipped his head up, and found Jeongin snapping his fingers in front of face, trying to get his attention. 
They'd been at dance practice, taking a break. He only then realized that he'd zoned out the entire time, not eating, not grabbing water, not even sitting down. Just recounting his mistakes, and dwelling on them. Now it was time to get back to work. 
Jeongin was giving him a strange look, but he didn't dare question him. In addition to messing things up with you, he'd been too on edge. Snapping at one too many people. He didn't want to risk Chan blowing up on him next.
"Where's Hannie and Hyune?" Chan questions.
"Probably still in the cafeteria..." Minho responds, giving him a knowing look. 
Minho was the one keeping both him and Han in check at the moment. He felt bad for forcing him into a position like that, considering he was Chan's younger member. Even if it's just one year. Having to be a mediator daily between his two brothers, he knew it must've taken a toll on him. But he never complained, and Chan was grateful nonetheless. 
Chan nodded, and went to grab water from his bag. As he was chugging it, Jisung came into the room and went straight to Minho. Furiously whispering at him, pushing his hair back. Hyunjin trailed in not long after, his eyes darted to Chan, but looked away quickly. 
"What's going on?" Seungmin asked.
Minho just put his hand up to him, and the younger one scoffed. He turned to Felix, "The hyungs are acting fucking weird lately." 
Felix hummed in agreement, as he continued massaging Changbin. 
"Aye, I don't know what's going on either, don't group me in." Changbin grunted.
Chan hesitantly approached the bickering pair, and the look Minho now gave him was one of warning. But it was too late. 
"It's all your fault." Han spat at him. 
"Excuse me?" He bit back, not expecting such an outburst from him.
Hyunjin quickly jumped up to try and get between them and explain, "We saw y/n in the cafeteria toda-"
"She isn't coming over this weekend again. And she's not letting me over to hers either. She wants to be alone. I wonder why." Han interrupts, crossing his arms.
The room was eerily quiet. Everyone knew something was up, that much was obvious. The fact that Han was slightly vague though, it gives Chan the idea that the exact details remain relatively private. 
"Is she still here?" Chan whispers through clenched teeth, holding fierce eye contact with Han, but he's getting more daring.
"She's about to leave. YOU," Han pointed to Chan, poking his finger right into his chest, "need to figure your shit out, and stop playing around. Fix. It."
"HAN JISUNG." Minho yells sternly, "You need to stop being so disrespectful. No matter the situation, remember who you're talking to. Let's take a walk." 
He drags Han out of the room, and down the hall.
Chan was left standing there, ears burning and fists trembling at his sides. It was safe to say practice was done early for the day. So he quickly dismissed everyone, and was the first to leave.
He found himself searching for you throughout the building, with no luck. Until the elevator doors opened, he stepped on with his head hung down. So consumed in his own thoughts again, he didn't realize the other person at first. 
When he lifted his head to finally greet them, he was faced with you. You refused to even look at his way, choosing to face straight forward at the exit. 
"Y/n..." He managed to croak out, weakly. 
Silence, still. As soon as the doors opened, you rushed out. He was stuck standing there again. 
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It was early Friday night, and you were already wrapped in the blankets on your bed. Aimlessly scrolling and tapping on tiktok, not even really paying attention to any of the videos. 
You weren't used to spending this much time alone, not anymore. You wanted to go see the people who you realized felt like home to you, especially in this foreign country. But you didn't want to deal with the fallout of the oldest. Jiji did beg to come over... You'd been missing him so much. You'd been missing everyone so much, even your co-workers.
Most of the work you do can be done from home, on your personal pc or work laptop. The majority of your co-workers had periods of time where they wouldn't set foot into the building for weeks at a time. You knew it wouldn't be weird to them if you worked from home for a while. So you've been opting to do that, only going into the building if you absolutely needed to.
Until today that is. At nearly 4 in the morning you were cc'd on multiple emails. The constant dinging woke you up. There was a huge issue with a group's new M/V. Footage was corrupted, drafts were deleted, and it had already passed the deadline. They needed all hands on deck. You were in such a rush to come in, you didn't bring any food or drinks with you. You had arrived about an hour after receiving the email, so by the time afternoon rolled around, you needed to get something in your system. Thankfully the major issues had been solved, but now came the fine tuning. You could finish up at home, but truthfully you missed being out and about. Even if it was just at work.
You reluctantly made your way down to the cafeteria, thinking you'd be safe because you know SKZ's schedule for today. You knew they'd be in dance practice. Oh how surprised you were when Jisung nearly tackled you to the ground. He was on you as soon as you came down the stairs to the main level. Your heart hurts when you see the glossy look in his eyes, paired with sadness. Hyunjin was right next to him, trying to pry him off of you and avoid a scene. Instead you pulled him into a group hug, which he eventually accepted, wrapping his arms around the both of you. 
They both badgered you with questions. Asking where you'd been, what happened, if you were mad at them. You were honest with them, and nearly broke down again. You weren't okay. You were hurt, and angry. But you assured them that you weren't angry with any of them, besides one obviously. And even though Jiji didn't bring up Chan exactly, or that night, you did. You started ranting about how stupid you felt for what happened. You've been holding it all in for the longest time, the words were rolling off your tongue effortlessly. 
You could see that at first, Hyunjin was a little shocked and confused. Possibly embarrassed judging by his pink tinted cheeks. But he held your other hand, that Ji wasn't holding, supporting you either way. You couldn't begin to express your appreciation. You'd half expected all the members to know exactly what happened. You also figured they'd side with Chan, and be upset at you for cutting off all contact basically. Considering Hyunjin didn't know what happened, you knew that wasn't the case. Relief washed over you slightly. 
It would be better if less people knew, less people to pick sides. In the grand scheme of things, this was only really between two people. There was no need to involve anyone else directly. On top of that, you'd never ask any of them to pick your side, not only because you know where you'd stand compared to their leader. You also wanted to avoid negative drama, and any arguments that might start with them.
Jisung begged you to come over tonight. Said that they would figure it out, that he would take you to his room even. He tried to make you laugh saying he'd even hang a sign saying 'no Chan's allowed' on his door. But you refused, not wanting to create uneasy tension, or make anyone feel uncomfortable in their own home. 
He then offered to come over and have a night just the two of you, and as tempting as it was, you found yourself wanting to be alone. Your go to method for self soothing was always solitude, even if it wasn't always healthy. 
You could see him deflating the more you denied his offers to spend time together. The anxiety was growing in his eyes. Knowing him, he was fearing that this was the end of your friendship. That simply could never happen.
'Give me just a few more days, and I'll be over it all. I'll be back to normal.'
That's what you told him, but you didn't even know if that was true. Regardless, you refused to lose your best friend over a situation like this.
One thing's for sure, you need to stop isolating. It wasn't helping as much as you convinced yourself it would. Just as you were debating texting Ji that you changed your mind, and to come over. Your phone chimed, and it was Jiji, he texted you first.
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You threw the blankets off, opting to keep on your pajama shorts instead of changing. You slid a hoodie on over your cami though, because you refused to put a bra on. 
They're your friends and you know they'd never judge you or your home. Still you tidied up the take out containers, cups, and cans left in your kitchen and living room. You folded your throw blankets, and fluffed up the pillows on your couch. You quickly picked up the clothes strewn across your apartment, and threw them into your room. You'd deal with the laundry later. Lastly, you went to take the garbage out, and as you turned to go back inside, a car drove up and Ji hopped out. He was in a hoodie, with the hood pulled up. He also wore sunglasses, and a black mask. 
"Y/nie!" Ji said and ran up to hug you.
"Long time no see." You joke, wrapping your arms around him. 
Hyunjin was also semi disguising himself, also in a hoodie. He had a baseball cap on, with his hood also up. He covered his eyes with the visor, and wore a black mask as well. He sent off the driver with a thank you and wave.
"Don't tease. It's been an excruciating amount of time. I need to recharge." He said squeezing you tighter.
"Hey y/n." Hyunjin walked up next, carrying bags full of goodies. 
"Hey! Come on, give me those, let's get inside." 
After you lead them in, you guys get comfy in the living room. They brought drinks, and loads of snacks and candy. In no time, you fell into that familiar and comfortable groove of your usual weekend shenanigans. Just a smaller circle this time.
"So," Ji started with his cheeks full of cheesecake, "I got in trouble with Minho." 
"How?!" You giggled. 
"I think Minho saved you actually, the way Chan was looking at you? He needed to get you out of there, you were NOT giving it up." Hyune said. 
"Wait, what happened?" You sat up more, worried now. 
"Tchh, he wouldn't have laid a finger on me." He tried to act confidently, but the way he rubbed his hands together told a different story.
"You guys fought?!" You gasped.
When Ji said nothing, and avoided your eyes, Hyune decided to speak up.
"They've been fighting. Mostly silently. You know, avoiding each other, sending the other looks and glares. But some days Hannie can't keep his mouth shut."
You gave Ji a stern look, and he just swallowed his cake.
"Anyways," Ji said, clearly trying to get the subject off of Chan, "Minho was so angry with me. I got scolded so much, I nearly cried."
"Well, yelling at Chan in front of the entire group probably wasn't the smartest thing to do..." Hyune mumbled.
Suddenly, concern washed over you. Surprisingly for Chan. You couldn't help it when the words just slipped out.
"So... how is Chan?" You attempted to sound nonchalant, stuffing your mouth with a brownie immediately afterwards.
They were both staring at you, unsure of how to answer. 
"He's... tense. I get something clearly happened between you two, but I don't know exactly what's up. He seems angry, and lashes out at people verbally... But he's sad too, he's been attempting to hide away from everyone too." Hyune says. 
"He has no reason to be angry." Ji snaps.
"Ji..." You say, "You should stop being so hostile to him. He didn't do anything to you..." 
Damn that soft spot in your heart, even when you've been completely devastated by him, you're sitting here defending him. 
He gave you the stern look now, "No. But he did something to hurt you. He's acting like a god damn fuck boy, and I always knew him to be better than that. I've never seen you like this! He made you stop visiting us, you even stopped talking to me throughout the day. He created a divide. And I'm sorry to be selfish, but whether or not it was done to me, it still affected me too!"
The anguish in his voice shot through your chest, creating that god awful sinking feeling. He was right, but still... it wasn't only Chan that held the blame. You were guilty of your own actions. You never should've pushed any of them away, especially Hanji.
"Okay, I have to ask. What the hell happened, it seems like he did something really bad." Hyunjin finally asked, worry written all over his face.
Ji refused to look up from his cheesecake, he was now just mashing it up angrily on his plate. 
"I like Chan." You blurted out, "Well, I liked him. I still like him? I'm trying to get over him though. But it's proving to be more difficult than I thought, so maybe it's more than me just having a crush. I don't know. It feels ridiculous to have such big emotions towards him, considering we struggle to even hold a conversation. I know nothing substantial about him, and I'm sure it's vice-versa. But the last time I was over... We ended up... halfway hooking up in the hall? But he stopped. And he looked at me like I was crazy. Like he forgot who I was, and like... like he was disgusted that it was me he was touching." You started rambling now. 
"And I mean I get it. I'm me, nothing special. We were drunk, and I'm sure with the way we were feeling, it could've just been chalked up to hormones on overdrive. But... I really thought he was reciprocating my feelings. I feel so stupid, to put that much value into sex. It's just sex. And it didn't even happen! I don't know. It just hurt, it still hurts. The regret in his eyes, that stung so bad. Because I didn't regret it, fuck, I don't regret it... I'm just so angry. I can't seem to move on from this."
They both sat listening to you, as tears began to well in your eyes. Ji pulled you into him, your head resting on his chest. Your arm rested on top of his stomach, the other sliding between his back and the couch. He was carding his fingers through your hair, and scratching your scalp lightly, like he knew you liked.
"Stop talking down on yourself. I don't like seeing you tear yourself down with lies." Ji mumbled.
"I'm sorry you're going through this... Have you two... talked at all?" Hyunjin asked.
"No. I'm trying to avoid that. I already got my heart ripped out once, I don't want to go through it again." You nearly sobbed, thinking back to how he approached you in the elevator. All he said was your name, but his voice was filled with such strong emotions that you couldn't decipher. You'd just assumed it was still regret, and ran out of there as fast as you could. 
Hyunjin rubbed your knee comfortingly, "But maybe talking would help... I'm not trying to make excuses for him. He should've spoken up at that point, offered some sort of explanation or reassurance, something. That's on him for not opening his mouth, you'd obviously be confused about the whole thing. I don't know if you're interested in fixing things and talking it out, or even remaining friends with him. Regardless, I feel like some sort of closure would help you and help him. And unfortunately that does involve talking it out."
You nodded your head, "It probably would, but I don't feel like I'm ready. You didn't see his eyes. I can't handle it if he looks at me like that again." You whispered the next sentence, "I don't want anyone to look at me that way again. "
"I don't think Chan would ever be disgusted by you, I mean judging by the looks some of us have caught him giving you. He definitely finds you attractive, as he should." He smirked, making you give a breathy laugh through the tears, "Frankly, I'm shocked that you were even interested in him. I mean have you seen me?" He gestured to his face dramatically, turning from side to side and gave a few poses.
You and Ji both chuckled at him.
 "Or Felix? Even Innie lately is growing more into his features! Why not one of us?!" He nudged your leg with a laugh.
"HEY! If anyone gets to date my Jagi, it's obviously me. We'll be two hot, married best friends who suffer in abstinence, because we can't bring ourselves to consummate the marriage." Ji suddenly slurs, holding onto you tighter. 
Yeah, he was a little too quiet there for too long, the alcohol must've hit him.
You burst out laughing, and shove him away from you, "Gross Jiji!" 
"And thank you Hyune, but I feel like that can't be true. Even if he has checked me out, that's superficial. I mean we're human, we can feel a basic level of attraction to someone we see for only 2 seconds, and never get to see them again. When I say I like him, it's more than just a physical relationship. I know it's illogical, for so many reasons. Like I said, I barely even know him. There's been no attempt to even get on the same level, like how I know the rest of you. We barely talked, we had that huge argument, and he's always kept some distance from me... there's always been a detachment. So for me to want to be with him, even after all the signs of him wanting nothing to do with me? It's insane. He could never want that, could never want me. Not beyond a quick fuck apparently. And he couldn't even go through with that..."
You know you're starting to sound repetitive and bitter, and a little pathetic. But damn it, this hurts. And these thoughts were consuming your mind in a vicious continual cycle. 
Hyunjin just hummed, neither agreeing or disagreeing, "You know you can't help emotions y/n, they're borderline instinctual. Especially love, and I'm not saying you're in love with him, but to care for someone? That passion? It's got to count for some kind of love. It's such a powerful feeling, we have no control over it, it's humorlessly funny like that." 
You were listening to him talk intently, he was so poetic. Maybe it was the fact you were a little tipsy, but you were thinking that he should write more songs. More love songs specifically. 
"If we could control it, there'd be much less heartbreak in the world I think. Unrequited love wouldn't exist... With that in mind though, there'd be a lot less love overall. I mean think about it, love almost always comes with some sort of eventual pain. There'd be many people who'd just opt out altogether..." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And never discount things as impossible, everything is possible. I'm not saying this to try to give you hope or destroy your hope. I'm not saying this to persuade you either. I'm just saying sometimes things aren't so black and white. Grey exists too, and it's a pretty beautiful shade if you ask me. I think you should talk to him about it." He finished
You nodded and offered a smile, "Maybe I should, and thank you."
You gestured for him to join you and Ji on the couch, and he rested against you. His head on your shoulder, creating a momentary cuddle pile, with you sandwiched in the middle.
You were so grateful to these boys, helping to piece you back together when you felt so broken. And over something seemingly insignificant to most. Ji was physically comforting you, and Hyune was comforting you mentally and emotionally. He just seemed to understand the world on a different level, able to see perspectives that might not always be clear to most. His mind was a beautiful place, and you felt honored that he let you in. You both formed a special bond tonight, similar yet completely different to you and Ji.
And, oh Ji... he wasn't getting off scot free.
"And you," You looked up to Ji, who was looking down at you wide eyed, "You need to apologize for your behavior with Chan. I understand you want to protect me, and I love you for that. Immensely. But he's your leader. He's done and sacrificed so much for you and your members. I'm sure no one knows what's going through his head. Stop giving him such a hard time... I'll figure out a solution with him eventually... even if it's just practicing being civil with each other. For now, try not to take things out on him. I'm sorry I stopped coming around. That fault lies completely on me, and it was petty. I won't avoid anyone anymore, so promise me you'll apologize. And that means as soon as you see him!"
He looked at you, processing your words before answering, "...fine. But seriously... don't go dark on me again, Jagiya." He said quietly. 
You smiled, and snuggled up closer to him, "I won't, my poor baby."
The three of you continued chatting, catching up on all the crazy things you missed out on. Apparently a lot can happen in two weeks. You were angry you missed out on a weekend camping trip. Apparently they all had gotten so drunk, except Chan. And I.N. kept threatening to hit people with his shoe. They informed you that Chan was very quiet on the trip. He kept to himself mostly, and binge ate ice cream instead of sharing a drink with the rest. 
You couldn't get your mind off Hyunjin's words. Chan has been watching you? The amount of time you spent checking him out, you'd figured if that were true you would have noticed. Maybe he was sneakier than you thought. Then again, that night your eyes did meet more than once or twice... You kept catching him looking at you. Maybe what Hyune said was true.
You were stuffed, full of candy and sweets. And also a little tipsy. It was getting late. Close to an hour later, you sent them home in a rideshare, telling them both to text you when they get home. Then you made sure to text Minho, alerting him of exactly how drunk Han was, and apologizing. You knew he'd be the one stuck taking care of him, if there's anyone who loves Ji as much as you, it's Minho. He might love him even more, having known him for much longer than you did. If the boys didn't have such a busy schedule this week, you'd be able to have Ji and Jinnie spend the night and take care of them yourself. 
A weight was lifted off your shoulders, and you silently cursed yourself for hiding yourself away for so long. You always did that, and it never ended well. You really were thankful to Ji, you don't know what you'd do without him.
That night, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep quicker, easier. But even as slumber was pulling you in, Chan was still on your mind. 
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Chan was sitting on the couch with Minho, having been forced out of his room and pushed to socialize. He hadn't done much, he was in his thoughts again. Occasionally entertaining the others with curt responses and short conversations here and there. They seemed to just be happy with his presence, and he was thankful for that.
Jisung and Hyunjin had gone to your house, and the unknown made him feel uneasy. He was happy though, because that meant you weren't cutting everyone off, you weren't done with the entire group, you were staying in their lives.
Everyone but the man that fucked up it would seem. Still, he felt relief. He wouldn't forgive himself if he was the cause of a valuable friendship lost for everyone.
The rest of the members had gone to sleep by now, but he and Minho were waiting for the two younger members to arrive home. You had texted Minho saying they were on their way back, and to take care of them as they were drunk. Jisung especially. 
He was wondering what was taking them so long, and he could tell Minho had some worry too. His leg shaking up and down. Then, as if on cue, Hyunjin bursts through the door. He has Hannie in his grasp, pulling him along as he tries to resist entering the dorm.
Hyune mumbled, "C'mon. You promised her." 
He started to feel flushed, and hot. What does that mean?
He gave Hannie a push towards Chan, and Minho gave a worried look to both of them. He was expecting the worst. Jisung was staring at his feet, playing with his fingers and biting his lip. 
Chan didn't think he could feel more disheartened than he already was, but it was apparently possible. Staring at Hannie in front of him, he looked so defeated. What had happened at your house?
Finally he looked up to Chan. And Chan was sure his face mirrored the younger ones anxiety. 
Then Han started tearing up, "I'm sorry Channie-hyung!" He wailed, and collapsed into Chan's arms. 
Chan was shocked, but he just held him close, and softly shushed him, trying to comfort him. He was trying to offer understanding and his own apologies. But Jisung ignored it babbled on, recanting his negative actions and harsh words. Chan respected the fact that he was apologizing, but he already knew why he had said the things he said. Why he had done the things he did. In fact, he held a sense of pride towards Hanji for it. It wasn't easy for him to stand up to Chan. And while, yes, he was being inappropriate from a certain viewpoint, he expected nothing less from the boy trying to protect his best friend. He couldn't be angry with him about that fact.
If anything he just felt more guilty that he had to protect you from Chan at all.
He continued slurring, stuttering, and sniffling in between talking. His words were barely coherent at this point, but Chan did catch one sentence.
"I thought I was losing her forever because of that night..."
Chan never felt more disappointed in himself, his entire being crumpled. Not only did he hurt you, he hurt Han. He's hurt the other members who grew to care for you just as much as he did. He never intended to hurt anyone, and instead he hurt many. It was all his fault.
With the help of Minho, they dragged Han to bed. Minho stayed with him, tucking him in, then getting him water and paracetamol for the morning. Minho stated he'd be spending the night in Han's room, just in case he was going to be sick. So Chan went out to check on Hyunjin, hoping he wasn't as inebriated but expecting as much. He found him in the kitchen, a bottle of water in one hand and a chip bag in the other.
"You feeling okay, Hyunjin?"
"Yeah, I didn't have as much as Han did..." He trailed off, "Neither did y/n." He was eyeing Chan as he continued, a glint in his eye while he said it.
Chan just nodded and kept silent, knowing he was trying to get at something. And it didn't feel like it was anything but teasing. Hyunjin wasn't having that though, he never did when people ignored what he had to say.
"Y/n made Han apologize you know," He started as he opened his chips, "I mean we both know he would've eventually. But she made him promise he would apologize as soon as he saw you."
That piqued his interest somewhat. He didn't view you as a mean person, but he figured you wouldn't mind seeing him distressed due to Han. In fact when he was standing in front of him, he was sure that he was about to get cussed out. By order of you, maybe. Considering Hyune said that Han promised you something. He wouldn't blame you, he deserved it after all.
But no. You were continuing to be your kind and sweet self. Even towards the person who upset you. He was confused.
"Why?" Chan finally whispered, more to himself than Hyune. 
"I believe her words were, 'he's done and sacrificed so much for you' and 'no one knows what's going through his head'. So she suggested that he, well more like intimidated him, to apologize." He said while dipping his hand into the bag of chips, "It was cute, really. She was almost... protective." 
With that he popped a chip in his mouth, and went off to bed, leaving Chan dumbstruck in the kitchen yet again.
His heart was thumping in his ears, unsure of how to interpret those words. But they meant something, right? Hyunjin was a tease, sure, but he must know what happened. He wasn't just teasing about this? Surely he wouldn’t go to that extent.
'No one knows what's going through his head.' 
You were right. No one knows. You don't know. He needed to talk to you, he needed to let you know. He needed to let you in, even if it was hard.
Suddenly he felt hope again. It was small and shriveled, but alive. He was sure with enough care and nourishment, something precious could bloom from it. 
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The week flew by, and now it was nearing the weekend again. Things almost felt normal. You had returned to the office regularly, no longer working from home. Your time with Ji had gone back to normal, Jinnie often tagging along now. And the other members were glad you had started showing up again too. Everyone was excited to recommence the late night antics at their dorm tonight.
You couldn't help but notice Chan seemed relieved too, a little too relieved. Even though you clearly gave him the cold shoulder. It didn't seem to bother him. You obviously have an idea of why his attitude towards you changed drastically, but what you don't have an idea of is what his goal is. You can't necessarily say he's acting as if nothing had happened anymore, because of his new demeanors. But he still hasn't mentioned anything to you directly. His gall was starting to irritate you. His mixed signals were angering you. 
If you were to think logically and assume, maybe in his head, he had been attempting some sort of effort to 'fix' things. But you tried to shut it down every single time, still unsure of his reasoning. Because he still never brought up that night, and was acting as if nothing happened at all. As if his reasoning for trying to be more friendly didn't exist. It was ridiculous. 
Before that night, it was always you making sure to greet him first, you striking up small talk, you trying to crack jokes with him. All small and simple gestures, but gestures nonetheless. If only to keep things polite and civil. The tables seemed to have turned, and now he was initiating it all. In front of others you were short with him, but made sure to still be polite. There was a deeper detachment than before, and it didn't go unnoticed by the others either. Though they kept their mouths shut, only eyeing the interactions between you two. 
In your head you figured that he'd get the hint and stop trying so hard at whatever it was he was trying at. You hoped it would trigger a conversation about that night finally. It got to the point where it started to create an awkward vibe in the presence of the others. But no, he still wouldn't stop. He just amped it up, and now the dynamic was once again changing. 
He'd figured out the exact times you would take your breaks, and would manage to catch you before anyone else could. When you stepped off the elevator, he'd be waiting for you with a smile, and offer to buy you a snack. You'd decline, instead opting to take a small walk and stretch your legs. When you get back to your desk you'd find your favorite cookies on them, or your favorite candy bar, or your favorite drink from the vending machine. They were always wrapped nicely or bagged with a bow, with a note attached. It usually reads something like, 'don't forget to eat today! --Channie'. 
You would always hand them out to your co-workers, or offer the singular items to your office bestie, before crumpling the note and throwing it out. 
He'd taken to somehow always being there to hold a door open for you. Or trying to hold your bags when he caught you using the stairs instead of the elevator, actively trying to avoid him. Or when you were helping staff move the camera equipment from room to room, he'd try to take the load off your hands. It always ended in you snapping at him in a whisper. And him furrowing his brows like he didn't understand what he did wrong.
It's not that his actions were wrong, actually. They were the opposite, but why? Why was he doing all this, when he never did before. He was putting all this effort into acts of service, when all you wanted to do was talk. It was hard for you to bring it up, especially when he was acting so sweet yet pissing you off at the same time. 
You should've realized it'd be hard for him to bring it up too, but you didn't. Because of that, there was the Wednesday incident. 
You were heading home for the day, not having had a run in with Chan all day, and unsure how to feel about it. You were almost out the door when you heard heavy footsteps coming towards you from across the lobby, and your stomach twisted. 
Chan.
"Hey! Wait!" He said with a smile, "I'll walk you to your car." 
You'd had enough at that point. You rolled your eyes, and continued out the door. But you knew he'd catch up anyways. 
As his pace aligned with yours, he kept talking, "Sorry I couldn't catch you at all today, it was a busy one. It still is, I think I'll be stuck in the studio all night. Han too, we finally figured out the ho--"
"Chan!" You cut him off, "Really? What makes you think I'm in the mood to talk to you? What makes you think I was waiting for your presence at all? You don't need to apologize for being busy. We're at work. We're working. It's what we do." You spat out, more abrasive than you've ever been to him. 
He looked at you wide eyed, and you felt something akin to guilt pang in your chest. Immediately you ignored it, and kept walking. Only for him to latch onto your arm gently. 
"I don't understand." He said, discouragement lacing his voice. "I'm trying to... trying to--" 
"Trying to what? What exactly is it that you're trying to do? Because I can't figure it out. You're being so hot and cold, you went from one extreme to the other. I don't know how to decipher that."
"I just want things to go back to being okay again! I want us to be normal again." He said exasperated. 
"Okay?!" You chuckled, "Normal? Our normal was borderline avoiding each other, which I am keeping up with very well, thank you. Our normal was talking to each other out of necessity. Our normal was little to no interaction, unless we're in a group. Whatever you're trying at, it's not our normal!" You shouted.
"No, what I mean is-" but you cut him off again, too heated to think logically.
"Our normal definitely didn't include me against a wall, and your fingers inside me and around my throat. THAT is not our normal. And I know it made things uncomfortable. And I know you regret it. But how can you expect things to go back to being whatever you think 'okay' is, if we haven't even talked about it?" You took a second to suck air into your lungs that seemed to be burning with rage. 
"Instead you talk to me like that night never happened, and then you behave as if we've been best friends forever. You act as if that behavior, whatever your reason for it, isn't influenced by that night. You talk to me about things we never talked about before. We never caught up on how each other's day was, we never checked in with each other to make sure the other ate, we never took breaks together to get coffee or a snack and chat. You're expecting me to be the same as you, and ignore what happened. But I can't Chan, I can't do it. All I want is closure, instead it feels almost like I'm being led on. Before that happened, I was insignificant to your life. Our only connection being Ji! Then... then in an instant everything changed and then it changed again. It's confusing Chan. I'm lost here." 
The tears were brimming in your eyes, and his ears were the brightest red you've ever seen. The flush went to his cheeks, and down his neck, and the grip he had on your arm was trembling. He started to open his mouth again, but you were quick to stop him. You felt like all he would give you right now is excuses, and you weren't ready to hear that.
"Please, Chan. I'm the one who's trying. I'm trying to move past it, like you seem to want to. But it's harder for me. When I feel like this, all I want to do is go home and hide. I can't do that though, not again. I'm trying to be civil. I'm trying to be polite, for the sake of everyone in our lives. But you keep pushing for some sort of friendship we never had..." You felt the dampness on your cheeks now, and before you knew it, your last sentence slipped through, "And did it ever occur to you that I wanted more than a simple friendship?" 
At that he let your arm fall, and he took in a shaky breath. You figured now was the time he would say something, but he seemed frozen. Then he spoke in a soft tone.
"I'm so sorry y/n, I promise I can explain..."
That was it, your heart started to ache at the thought of his words. You weren't ready to be rejected again. So you rubbed your cheeks, one at a time, swiping the tears away and sniffling. He reached towards you again, stepping closer, but you stepped back. 
"I need to go."
And you left. You got in your car, and you held it all in. The whole drive home, you refused to let yourself process any of the conversation. Which in reality was less of a conversation, and more you blowing up on Chan. 
It wasn't until you stepped through your door that you sunk to the floor, back against your front door and started sobbing. You let it all out. The guilt for yelling at him. The despair over the rejection, that never left your heart. The embarrassment over the entire situation and how you were acting. Your unjust, pure anger. It all just came out in tears. You couldn't stop them, your only focus was on breathing when you could. 
You didn't know how long you stayed like that, hugging your knees and bawling your eyes out. But the sound of keys jingling, and the pressure of the door pushing against your back, is what snapped you out of that grief stricken daze.
"Oh, Jagiya..." You registered Hans voice as you stood up to move, you forgot you gave him keys to your place.
He scooped you into his chest, squeezing you tight. You held onto him, just as firm. 
"Wait..." You were confused, Chan said they both would be late in the studio, "What are you doing here?"
He pulled back and scanned your face as you sniffled. He sighs, and leads you into your kitchen, wetting a towel and dabbing at your puffy eyes and cheeks before drying them. Once you seemed to be in a pacified state, he continued. 
"An unintelligent kangaroo I happen to know, told me I should head home early and check on you. He seems to be more intelligent than I thought." He tried to make light of the situation, but guilt bubbled up in you once again. 
"Wanna talk about what happened?" He offered. 
And so you word vomited at him. Retelling the whole scene word for word, since the words were mostly your own. He listened, nodding when necessary, and humming in agreement to some parts. When you were done, you looked at him and waited. 
He was looking down with his arms crossed, leaning against your kitchen counter. He looked deep in thought. 
"Well?" You said desperately. 
"Well, I think it's good one of you finally broke the ice on it. You got it off your chest, you said what you needed to. Yeah, maybe you were rude. But now the door to talk about it finally was opened. However, maybe you should've heard him out. Seems like he could barely get a word in edgewise. If I know you when you're angry, which I do, I know you never planned on letting him speak. You always have to have the last word, my little attack chihuahua."
Then he poked your forehead, "Stubborn. Defensive. Both of you." 
You groaned, "I know, I know. I'm already beating myself up over it." 
"When will either of you learn? You don't need to beat yourself up over it, you just need to communicate. You missed your opportunity today, but that doesn't mean all hope is lost. I know he really wants to talk to you."
"Talk again?" You scrunch your face at the idea, even while knowing it had to happen.
"Apologize, is more like it." He retorted. 
Your face dropped, but you knew he was right. 
"Hey, you made me do it. And it was the right thing to do. Like you said, no matter how angry I am, I needed to apologize. The same rules apply to you... Plus I've been hesitant to say this but..."
"What?"
"If he wanted to stop in the middle of it all, he had every right to. I know it hurts but, no means no, you know?" 
Guilt flooded your veins yet again, are you really coming across as some sort of hostile person after facing a rejection? You suppose it was half right, which made you feel disappointed in yourself. You were no better than the men who throw tantrums when women reject them. In your mind though, you were more upset at ignoring it all. 
"I know that, and currently I'm not angry because sex didn't happen. I'm angry because I don't understand why it almost happened, and I want an explanation. I just want to know why he was so cold to me the entire time before it happened, and why he tried to act like nothing happened and was friendlier to me afterwards. If he wanted to stop because he changed his mind and wasn't feeling it, that's fine. But he could've said that, I'd be hurt because I like him so much, but I'd get over it. Why I'm upset now is because I don't like the mixed signals. I don't like the unknown. I want closure."
"To get closure you have to talk to him y/n, you avoid him just as much as he used to avoid you. Now that he's stopped, you're still avoiding him. And acting kind of rude to him, we've all seen it. The fake smiles don't really hide the contempt in your eyes. You're always valid in your emotions always, but I've recently learned that it's the reaction that you are held responsible for. That goes for him too, even though his reactions may not be as hostile as yours. His reaction of ignoring it, is just as hurtful to you. But... I have a feeling if you hear him out, you'll get your closure." 
Again, you knew he was right about it all. You knew you had been bitter and immature about the entire situation. You paced for a moment, thinking about how you could even apologize to him. He'd been trying to fix things, and talk just like you wanted. Why have you held on to all that anger for so long? You were in the wrong too, more so than he was. You needed to apologize quickly.
"Just take the night to process and decompress. You'll have plenty of opportunities to talk with him, especially since his mission in life lately is just that. Again, we've all noticed it, he can't seem to leave you alone."
"Do you know what he's up to?" You squint your eyes at Ji suspiciously. 
"He won't tell anyone exactly why he's doing what he's doing. But I have my own speculations, which I won't be sharing because I'm not trying to meddle and put ideas in your head. After talking with him a bit tonight, I don't think he's aiming to hurt you, that's for sure." 
You sighed again, and nodded. 
"Now. Dinner and comfort anime? I'm thinking.... Nana?" 
"God, yes please. I need a distraction from realizing how much of an asshole I was. That I was actually the one starting issues." You groan, and you both plop down the couch and start to order food. 
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Ji went home half an hour ago, and you're now staring at your phone. Debating the text you typed up to Chan. Your finger was hovering over the send button. It would be better to apologize in person, but you weren't sure you could face him without some sort of emotional outburst anymore. It was something you needed to work on. So maybe smoothing things over through text before you spoke with him would help.  
You read it over one last time... God you sounded too professional, like you were talking to your boss. You hit send anyway, you weren't going to come up with anything better to say. You put your phone down, only for it to buzz a minute later.
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Good... things are starting to get better. Or so you thought. 
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You didn't see him at all on Thursday, nor spoke to him. You didn't see Jiji either, but he confirmed through text that Chan had been cooped up with him in the studio. You felt bad, knowing you probably added more stress to their jobs. Especially considering Ji ditched work yesterday to comfort you. 
Now it was Friday, and they were back at work in the studio again. Hyunjin was over yours because he finished up early, the both of you were just hanging out. Waiting for everyone else to get out. The nine of you were recommencing weekend get togethers.
"You should bring them food." Hyunjin, who was currently laying across your couch suggested.
He could sense your anxiety, constantly checking your phone for the time. He knew you wanted to talk to Chan, finally.
"I don't want to interrupt them, I already did that yesterday." You mumbled.
"Tch, like either of them would really view you as an interruption. They'd be elated."
"Ji? Yes, yes he would. You know things are weird between me and Chan though." You whined.
"Mmm, but this could be your chance to fix it." He suggested in a sing-song voice. 
You actually debated it, but you didn't want to prolong his work tonight by stealing time for a conversation. A most likely lengthy conversation. 
You looked at the clock, still debating and wondering if you had time. When you saw the time you realized it was much later than you thought. 
"Shit, forget food. We're going to be late." 
Hyunjin glanced at the time and nodded, "Alright, let's head to mine."
You grabbed your keys and headed for the door, Hyunjin followed and soon you both were in the car on the way to the dorm. 
Once you got there, and Hyunjin let you in, you realized everyone was already here, judging by the pile of shoes. It seemed, the majority were getting cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes. 
"I'm going to change too! I need to get out these jeans and into something comfier. Just make yourself at home!" He said while heading to his bedroom. 
You sat on the couch and started scrolling on your phone. You were laughing at a funny video when you heard someone walking down the hall. Of course Chan is the first to finish, and he decides to join you on the couch. He takes the seat next to you, like right next to you. 
"Um... Do you have to sit so close?" You say in the softest voice you could manage.
Remember. Stay level headed, no snapping, no meltdown, no blow ups. Don't yell. 
He looks at you a bit defeated, and moves to the other end of the couch. 
You sigh. Things were still touchy. It can't keep continuing on like this, it's too uncomfortable for you both. You have to apologize and make amends. It's now or never, but he speaks before you the chance. 
"Y/n. Is now a good time to talk?" He says in a serious tone, with a stern look on his face. 
You tense under his gaze, and your stomach feels like it's sinking. Was he that mad at you? You kind of understand why though. 
"S-sure." You stuttered.
His eyes darkened, tongue poking his cheek. He's getting shifty now, and glancing down the hallway.
 "Do you mind if we talk in private?" 
You suppose it would be even more uncomfortable if someone else happened across you two discussing this. So when he stands up and heads towards his room, you follow him into it. 
His room was neat. You'd never been in it before, and sure, you've seen the live streams. But it was a very different feeling, seeing it through a screen versus being inside it. 
He sits on his bed, and pats the spot next to him for you to sit. You opt for leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of you. You were feeling defensive still, and didn't want to push your limits. It was his turn to sigh now, as he hung his head.
"Y/n I meant it when I said I'm really tryi--"
"Can I say something first... and then I promised I won't interrupt you again."
He just nods, with his tongue poking his cheek again. You know you're pushing his buttons, but you felt you needed to apologize before anything. Now you decided to sit next to him, twisting your torso to face him. And he did the same to face you. 
"I'm sorry for the way I acted. It was incredibly childish." You sighed, "I know you had every right to change your mind, and I shouldn't have gotten so angry over it. I never meant to act so toxic towards you. I should've just accepted the fact that you wanted to stop and moved on. But the truth is... I've liked you for a while now. So when that happened, in my head, I took it as you reciprocating my feelings. Which doesn't make any sense, because you never knew of my feelings.”
Chan snorted a bit, trying to conceal a laugh.
“Then when you stopped, paired with the look on your face, it felt like you realized you made a mistake doing that with me. You looked like you were disgusted. Which I promise you, I now totally understand if that's the case. But it still hurt me... regardless, I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. So again, I'm sorry. I truly am. I hope you can forgive me." You managed to get it all out clearly, with a steady tone. 
He was staring at you with a thoughtful look on his face, soaking in your words, processing. Then he smirked, and that was the last thing you expected. 
"I guess you were acting a little bratty." He chuckled a bit. 
Then he reached for your hand, putting his on top of yours. You felt the fluttering in your stomach at his simple action. But you flipped your hand over anyways, palm up and letting him hold it.
"But y/n, you've got it all wrong, and it's partly my fault." He started, and your eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion falling on your face.
"I like you too," he squeezed your hand gently, and it was oddly comforting, "The reason I stopped is because I didn't want you to think that all I wanted from you was sex. Because I want so much more." 
Were you dreaming? Is he really confessing right now? Even after how horrible you were towards him?
"I know the way I acted before doesn't exactly translate to me having feelings for you." He continued, "The truth is I was too scared to confess, until that night. The liquor gave me that extra boost of confidence, and you just... looked so beautiful. And the game we played, and catching you look my way multiple times. It almost confirmed to me that you wanted me too. Because I wanted you then and there. So when I saw you in the hallway, I thought it was my chance. But I let the lust take over."
Heat started to spread in your lower stomach at his words, and he kept going. 
"I wanted to do things the proper way. I wanted to confess, and ensure that you knew I was serious about you, and not a fling. I wanted to take you out on dates, and properly ask you to be mine. I should have just said it all that night. I got scared again though, and just froze. And I know the way I was acting right after was confusing, I didn't mean to give you mixed signals."
Your head was spinning with all the information he was sharing, it truly felt like you were in a daydream. Then you found your voice again.
"It felt like you were disgusted with me." You whispered, "And then you were acting so nonchalant about the whole thing, as if it never happened. I guess I was assuming things."
He cupped your cheek, and comfortingly rubbed his thumb against it
"I could never be disgusted by you, love."
You had to resist a shiver at him calling you that pet name.
"I wanted us both to be sober too. That's why I idiotically told you to drink water, and rest. And the next morning, I was so nervous because you were rushing to leave. You had tears in your eyes, I said the first thing to pop into my head. I was hoping to talk about everything that morning. But then you walked out the door, and I felt like I had no right to stop you.  Then Hannie was so mad at me, you stopped coming around. I felt like I fucked everything up and I lost all hope for a while." He sounded distraught.
“Until Hannie argued with me, yelling at me to fix things. He outright put the entire blame on me, and he did this in front of everyone. So that experience paired with your disappearance from our lives, especially Hannies life. He was so lost without you, I knew I had to try and fix it right away. I had been wanting to, I was just so unsure how to go about it. But Han's words pushed me to just go for it."
You took the opportunity to scoot closer to him, side by side now. He threw his arm around your waist. 
"The elevator... ugh. I was just so hurt, I was so sure that you were going to come up with excuses, try to let me down easy. I was terrified of the rejection. I had no idea, I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing, we were both a little clueless about everything."
"I guess we were just a little stupid, huh?" You laughed.
He chuckled, "Just a bit."
"Then when Hyunjin happened to mention something, that's when I fully had hope again. So I tried to approach you, and be friendly, and get you snacks. I tried to help you out at work when I could. I was still unsure of how to bring it up to you." He admitted.
You felt so ashamed, "And then I went and yelled at you. I didn't even let you speak, ugh. I'm so sorry." 
"Again with the apologizing," He chuckled, "I told you, we were just confused about it. There was a lot of miscommunication... when we did talk anyways."
"I know, I was feeling and throwing mixed signals. All I wanted the entire time was to talk about it. Yet, I tried to avoid you at all costs. It doesn't exactly make sense. God, I was so... so childish."
"You were feisty is what you were. And I'm sure you still are." He joked.
You giggled. It was unbelievable how understanding he was. It was more shocking how wrong you were about his feelings. You had completely misconstrued everything. Assuming the worst. You couldn't be happier about being so wrong.
Nuzzling into his chest, and wrapping your arm around his torso, had him humming contently. But then you thought of what he said earlier. 
"What did Hyunjin say...?"
He cleared his throat, "When you made Hannie apologize to me, Jin said that you were acting almost protective over me. It made me think that I had a chance of proving my feelings for you."
"So that's the true reason why you were so friendly, and constantly getting me things and trying to help me out. You were lowkey trying to confess.” You looked up to him smiling.
He was blushing now, "Yeah, but I realize I was still doing things a little out of order. I'm terrible at communicating I guess." 
"Channie..." you said for the first time, and his blush got deeper, "I know it means a lot to you to do things traditionally. And I appreciate the effort you put in to accomplish that. But to me, it doesn't matter as much. We could've figured everything out afterwards." You said softly, and he was smiling down at you. 
"I guess I should catch up to the modern age." He joked. 
"Never! You prove that chivalry isn't dead. I love that you're a romanticist. Don't change." You laughed, "And... the communication problems? That's something we can both work on. I need to fix that in me too."
You felt him tense, and he caught your chin between his fingers, pushing you to look up at him further. You felt the warmth of his breathing spread across your face, he had that same look on his face as when he leant in to kiss you that night. Wetness was now pooling in your panties, and you had to resist clenching your thighs together. He was so in tune with your body language, and he caught it last time. You're sure he would notice again. You didn't want him to think you were rushing him into sex.
"So... does that mean you want to give us a go?" He was so serious when he said it, you could see the glint of excitement in his eyes though. 
"Of course, it's a dream come true." You smiled at him.
He was quick to bring his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly, softly. You sighed into the kiss, and felt like you were melting into him as you turned your body towards him more. You brought your hands up, one resting on the side of his neck, the other on his shoulder. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, and combed his fingers into your curls. 
He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, licking your bottom lip. Your tongue met his, and soon you were wrestling against his for dominance. He started leaning you back against his bed, adjusting himself on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs. His hands roamed your body and he never broke away from your lips. You were nearly panting into his mouth, giving up and allowing him to explore your mouth. Your hands clutching his shirt like it would save you. The kiss was messy, downright sloppy, and you loved it. You were both desperate for this.
You wanted to imprint his touch into your mind. Every area he grazed made you feel tingly all over. Your entire body was oversensitive for him. You'd never felt like this with anyone else. 
Then he was playing with the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach. You mewled at that, and he groaned. It was so high pitched it nearly sounded like a whimper. 
"Please... I still want you." He whispered against your lips. 
You were breathing heavy, chest heaving. You couldn't help it when your hips bucked up, letting yourself get consumed by lust, "Yes, god yes. I need you."
He re-positioned himself, lowering his body onto yours and letting his hips grind into you. You could feel his length against you through his shorts, and you whined. Even this felt like ecstasy, he almost made you cum last time from dry humping. He was so skilled at making sure you got friction exactly where you needed it. It was driving you feral. 
His lips attached to your neck, kissing, sucking, and biting his way down to your chest. His hand groped your breast, kneading it. Then he rolled over, flipping your position, so you were on top of him. It was your turn to grind your hips, your core rubbing directly on his erection. He threw his head back, mouth hanging open. His hands gripped your waist, helping you move against him. 
Things felt less rushed this time around. It felt like all time stopped, and the only thing that existed in the world was you and him. You wanted to be lost in this passion with him forever. The high he made you feel, made your head all hazy with desire. 
"Fuck..." He whispered as he looked up at you, seeing how fucked out you looked already. 
His hands slipped underneath your shirt, pulling it up. You took the hint and ripped it off, unclasping your bra afterwards. 
You had to admit, you felt your face flush again, at being exposed to him. But he soon wiped the thought from your mind, leaning up and placing soft kisses all over your chest. He kissed up to your collar bones, he kissed each mound, kissed in between them, he even kissed your nipples so gently. 
You were learning he was a tease.
One hand was kneading your breast again, the other braced against your back. Then his lips closed around one of your nipples, and his hot tongue swirled around it. His hand now playing with the other. Pinching, flicking, and rubbing. He braced the hand against your back, pushing you into him more, while he sucked your nipple harshly. You whimpered, and your hips started rolling against him again.
He pulled off with a pop, and mumbled "I could worship these tits love, all of you is so gorgeous."
His words made you blush, and then he pushed you onto your back again. He clearly wasn't scared to manhandle you at all. He was quickly unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans.
"Need to tase you..." He mumbled again.
You liked needy Chan, somehow he kept the perfect balance of dominant yet deprived for you. He positioned himself between your legs, kissing and licking every inch of them. He held your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart to expose your panties. He placed a kiss on your clothed center, and groaned at the wet spot that was already there. His tongue peeked out, and he licked a slow stripe up, making your underwear wetter. Your eyes rolled back and you sighed, craving more.
And did you mention that you loved how vocal he was? 
He licked his lips as he glanced up at you, mumbling "Taste so good, 'M gonna be addicted. Wanna be between your thighs all the time."
Then he spoke more clearly, with a smirk on his face "You're going to sit on my face one day. I want you to ride it."
You whined at the thought, and pushed your hips up, searching for friction. He took the opportunity to slide your panties to the side, and his tongue slid between your folds immediately. 
You moaned loudly as his tongue flicked against your clit. You felt like you were on fire, yet shivering at the goosebumps spreading all over your body. Your hand reached down to his hair, and he groaned again, making his lips vibrate against you. 
"Mmm... fuck." You moaned as you rocked your hips against his face. 
He has no objections, but he momentarily paused to rip your panties off. Then he wraps his arms around each thigh, forcing you to open wider for him. He buried his face in you, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. 
You gasped at the intrusion, your hand squeezing tighter into his hair. It had you nearly wailing. You'd never felt that before, and you think you could cum from it.
When his lips closed around your clit, he sucked. You were panting, feeling that familiar pleasure slowly coil in your lower abdomen. 
He wasn't shy at all about devouring you, making slurping and squelching sounds. He brought his hand to your entrance, and slipped two fingers inside. You moaned, and he let you adjust before curling his fingers and pumping into you. Your orgasm is building faster now. 
Writhing on the bed, and clutching his sheets, he did his best to keep you still. You were a moaning and whining mess. You couldn't help but be loud. His hand moved faster, as the tip of his tongue flicked at your clit. It was all too much as you felt your climax wash over your. You let out a desperate groan, your legs quivering as his hand squeezed your thigh tighter, preventing you from squeezing your legs shut.
Once you whimpered at the overstimulation, he stopped. Giving your clit one last kiss, sending one last shiver up your spine. Your chest was heaving, you were out of breath. He climbed up your body, wiping your juices and his saliva off his chin with the back of his hand. When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on him, and you hummed as you licked against his tongue.
He kept kissing you, and you tugged at his shirt, "No fair, I'm completely naked and you're fully dressed."
He chuckled and sat up, pulling his shirt off. You reached up to feel his abs, fingers tracing between each muscle. You moved up to his pecks, and when your palm grazed against his nipple, he hissed. Picking up on it, it was your turn to kiss his chest, making sure to pay special attention to his nipples. Your tongue lapping at them, and then sucking them. 
He quickly turned into a whining mess. His voice making you grow wetter, and clenching around nothing. 
You really loved how vocal he was.
He made quick work of pulling his pants and boxers off, and leaned back down to kiss you. The pressure of his weight on top of you was comforting, and you placed your arms on his shoulders. His cock twitched against your core, and you were mewling again. 
He smiled against your lips and whispered, "Is my love needy right now?"
Then his fingers wrapped around your neck, and you bit your lip. Your hand was now on top of his, making him squeeze lightly, and you whined.
"Does my baby girl want to be choked right now?”
"Chan if you don't fuck me right now, I swear I'll--"
Before you could finish, he was gripping the base of his member. Sliding into you at a steady pace, and you gasped. He lets you adjust again. The length surprised you, and his girth stretched you deliciously. You always knew this man was hung. 
His hand never left your throat, and he did add more pressure around it. But you still desperately needed more.
He must've read your mind, or at least your face, "You're really into breathplay huh? Need it harder?"
Your mind was clouded in pleasure, you felt so full having him inside you. His hand on your throat only heightens it. So you nodded as best you could. 
"Remember, I need the words baby girl." 
"Yes, yes, fuck yes." You moaned.
He nearly growled as he pulled out and snapped his hips into you sharply. He kept pumping into you. Rolling his hips into you roughly, skin slapping against skin. His hand squeezed your throat tightly, cutting off all oxygen and then easing up, so you could get a proper breath in. Everything felt blissful, consumed by need. 
Your hips started rolling, meeting each of his thrusts. You were focused on making sure you both got off.
He had his eyes closed, face scrunched in concentration and panting, "Shit, you're so wet love. So tight, gonna cum too fast."
You clenched around him hearing that, and let out another whimper. You felt it building up in you again. His pace became uneven, and you knew he was nearing his climax. 
"Please..." he begged with a strangled whine, "Cum with me, can't hold on much longer."
"Channie... so close, just a little more." You panted back.
He removed his hand from around your neck and down to your clit, rubbing quickly in little circles. That was all you needed to let go, becoming a moaning and quivering mess. Your walls were clenching around him again, as you rode out your orgasm. 
He groans, hips stuttering before he pulls out of you. Giving himself a few pumps, he let out a loud and strangled cry as he finished. He was spurting ropes of cum all over your stomach, only slowing when the last of it was dripping down his cock and onto his fingers.
It was so sensual, you grabbed his hand and sucked them into your mouth. Making sure to lick them clean, keeping eye contact with him. His lips parted and he was looking at you so affectionately. When you finally popped them out of your mouth, he immediately caressed your face.
"How are you so perfect?" He murmured. 
He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, and you slowly moved yours with his. This kiss was different, less desperate and more so savoring the moment. You felt lost in him. Nothing else mattered right now but you and him, the rest of the world melted away. You two were in your own bubble, and you couldn't be happier. 
When he pulled away, he spoke "That was amazing, my love." 
"It was." You giggled.
"I'm sorry it was a little rushed, I was craving you so bad." He said as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, a little embarrassed. 
Your fingers brushed through his hair. He was right, it was rushed on both ends. You both were a little clumsy, figuring out each other's bodies for the first time. But that doesn't mean the sex was horrible, he made you cum twice. 
"We'll have plenty of chances to take our time with each other. I think after everything, we were both hopelessly desperate for each other, and like you said. It was amazing Channie."
"I like hearing Channie coming from you, as different as it is." 
"Mmmm, I have to think of another pet name. You claimed 'love' already." 
He just chuckled, "You can call me whatever you want, Channie, love, Jagi. I don't mind."
"I think Ji would keel over if I called you Jagi instead of him." You giggled.
"Hannie can deal with it, he's not the only man in your life that's close to you anymore." 
Chan got up to get you a towel, and cleaned you up.
You felt satisfied, laying down facing each other, and still embracing. 
"So, about the other chances you mentioned. Maybe we can try out the edging you like so much. And all it takes for me to truly dom you is flipping a switch in my head and not holding back. I'm just not sure you can handle it."
"I can handle it, I'll be your perfect little sub." You snuggle closer to him.
"Hmmm, why do I doubt that for some reason. We already know how bratty you are."
"That just means more punishments for me, which I'm sure we'll both love."
"Is that so?" He started leaning in to kiss you.
Suddenly there was banging on the door. 
"Are you two finished? I'm assuming your finished since all the noise stopped." Hanji yelled.
You looked wide eyed at Chan and he had a smug smile on his face.
"We'd like you to join us, we're playing cards against humanity tonight. Besides it's my time with my Jagi again, I'd like to be able to see you." Jiji shouted through the door. 
You both scrambled to dress yourselves. He gave you his t-shirt, and some sweats. Slipping on nearly the same outfit, you opened the door to a pouting Ji. His face slowly transformed into a smirk as he looked you up and down. 
"Better fix your sex hair babes, although I guess there’s no hiding your hickies and bruises though." He leaned in and whispered, "I didn't know you liked it that rough, his fingers are clear as day on your neck. You nympho." He poked your tummy repeatedly. 
You nudged him and rolled your eyes, "Shut up." 
Channie came up behind you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a back hug. Just like that, Ji was back to pouting. 
"This means I have to share my cuddle time, ugh." He whined.
Chan just patted the top of his head, laughing, "You'll get used to it." 
"Hmph. I'm not going to stop calling her Jagi or babe or any other pet names. I was here first!" He stated.
Chan just chuckled, "I wouldn't expect you to Hannie."
He just turned around, still pouting, and headed back to the living room. You and Channie followed behind him, hand in hand. Eyes glued to each other, and smiling. 
"Oh great, we have to deal with this now, on top of you and Han overdosing us with PDA?" Seungmin complained. 
"I just knew something was up with you two, it's about time you fixed it." Innie commented. 
"Yeah, and by the sound of it. Making up went really well." Changbin jokes, then his eyes wander to your neck, "You know, for as much noise you two were making, I'd never expect you'd be choking her in there."
You blushed intensely, and Channie cleared his throat, smiling, and scratching the back of his head. The group laughed, and you and Chan took your seats. Which was him sitting in the chair as usual, and you sitting in his lap. 
"God, this is going to take getting used to." Hyunjin said with a smirk. 
"You act like you didn't partially help orchestrate this whole thing." Jiji teased. 
"What?!" Felix snapped, "And you didn't tell me?" Now he was pouting. 
"It wasn't my business to tell. Besides, I only nudged them a little bit to communicate. They both seriously lack in that area." Hyune responded. 
"Mmhm, I have to agree with that." Minho chimed in with a smug smile. 
"Alright, alright. Enough poking fun at us. All that matters is that things can go back to normal." Chan said. 
You faced him, "I still don't think this was our normal before, but it definitely can be our new normal now." 
He smiled and gave you a peck on the lips, to which the entire room started gagging, and acting disgusted. They got distracted while setting up the card game, Chan whispered something in your ear. 
"I know we've been doing things abnormally, and this might be a little fast. And we also have a lot more to talk about, but... Will you be mine?" 
You break out into a huge smile, and press your lips to his ear, "Of course Channie. I'd love nothing more than to be your girlfriend."
He turned his head to kiss you again, except this time it wasn't a peck. Your lips moved in sync for a few seconds, and everyone once again noticed. 
"Yeah, you were right Hyune. This is going to take A LOT of getting used to." Felix agreed.
"I don't think I've ever seen Chan-hyung like this before... It's a little weird." Innie chimed in.
"That's because he hasn't done anything like this before. Outright claiming someone? That's new territory for him." Minho said.
"No wonder it was so hard for him to pursue y/n." Seungmin said, "Although I really did have a feeling it was going to be Hannie that ended up with her."
Ji made a face, "Never. Our love isn't romantic, even though we both love skinship."
They were interrupted by the wet sounds of you both still making out. 
 Ji started pouting again, shouting, "Yah! Are we going to play or what? Surely you can both hold off until later, sheesh." 
You pulled away and you and Channie laughed.
"Alright, let's play!" You said excitedly. 
Maybe this was new territory for you, but you felt comfortable in it already. You were so glad that you and Channie were able to find solace in each other. Maybe you guys weren't quite in love yet, but you were elated that he returned your feelings fully.  
This is the normal that Chan was talking about, and you wouldn't dream of having it any other way.
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year ago
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Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.
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I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.
Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:
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I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?
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It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—
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—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.
Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like
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For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!
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The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.
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After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.
I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.
I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.
I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.
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After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.
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She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.
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I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.
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Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.
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I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)
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I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...
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navybrat817 · 7 months ago
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In a Red Dress
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.
Word Count: Over 3k
Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.
Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.
It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.
“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.
And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.
“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”
Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”
Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?
At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.
“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”
“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”
You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.
“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”
Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”
“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.
“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”
Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.
“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”
You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”
Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”
“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”
Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.
“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.
You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”
His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”
You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”
“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”
“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”
Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.
Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.
Right?
Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”
He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.
Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.
“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”
His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”
His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.
You loved him, too.
Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.
“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”
The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.
Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?
You wouldn't mind either way.
“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”
“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”
“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”
“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”
You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.
“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”
The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.
“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”
Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.
You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.
“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.
“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”
Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.
He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”
You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.
His cock made your mind numb, but your pussy made him run his mouth.
“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”
“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”
Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.
“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.
You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.
“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”
You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.
You could give him one more.
“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”
He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.
The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.
“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.
He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”
“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.
“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.
“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”
Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.
You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.
He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”
You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”
And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.
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Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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