#if your brain went ''yeah'' or it went ''kind of like that but--'' then! i would like to know!!!
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đ˛ŕŁŞ Ö´ÖśÖ¸ ď¸Ö´ÖśÖ¸ UNDER THE GLOVES đ¤. â lee heeseung.
(ŕš>âĄ<ŕš) ŕ§ŕ lee heeseung + fem! reader co-workers to lovers office romance reader is part of the finance department brief appearances of the other members đ warning fighting, blood, violence, tooth-rotting fluff, confession, one kiss scene, someone save riki . . !? & 3930 â navigation
note. i like office romance and why not write something for the CFO aka lee heeseung haha... @riekiss
You let out a long and exhausted sigh, rubbing your temples as you looked away from the blinding screen of your computer. Hours had passed and you were still trying to figure out the solution for the problem you had encountered since eight in the morning. One glance at the time on the bottom right of the screen tells you it was close to five, which means you had wasted nearly the entire day wrecking your brain over a problem. You were tempted to slam your head against the desk, hoping the pain could make your brain cells come back to life.Â
I need a break.Â
Rubbing your eyes, you stood up and left your desk, heading to the pantry area to make a cup of much-needed coffee for yourself. You halted in your tracks when you realize someone was there before you. It was none other than the Chief Financial Officer of your company; Lee Heeseung. You remembered meeting him for the first time, back when you were still a newbie half a year ago. You remembered how you were practically trembling when your name was called and how you were instructed to see him in his office.Â
Heeseung was not an intimidating person. You have seen how he interacts with his friends; Jay and Sunghoon. Both men were from different departments but they always had their lunch together and sometimes went drinking with other people who you do not recognize. However, a part of you finds him hard to talk to and if preferred, you would rather avoid him at all costs. You were not sure why you were acting this way. Perhaps it was due to your shyness or perhaps, it could be something more.Â
âOh, hi (Name), did you come here to catch a breather too?â Heeseungâs voice snapped you out of your trance. You blinked and saw your fellow co-worker leaning against the counter with a cup of freshly-brewed coffee held in his left hand.Â
âUh,â you opened and closed your mouth before regaining your composure, âyeah, Iâve been staring at the same sheet since morning and Iâm nowhere done,â you sighed, entering the pantry to make a cup of coffee.Â
The man gave you a sympathetic look as he took a sip from the paper cup. âThat sounds rough, but I donât mind helping you out. That is, if you donât mind, of course.âÂ
You blinked, âA-Are you sure? I wouldnât want to waste your time-âÂ
He dismissively waved off your response with his hand, âNah, donât worry about it. Besides, I donât think helping a colleague out can be considered as wasting someoneâs time. The sooner we get this done and over with, the sooner we can go home.âÂ
You knew he had a fair point with that and you ended up agreeing. The both of you returned to your desk and you watched as Heeseung sat on your chair, pulling himself forward to get a clearer look at the screen. You, on the other hand, stood behind him on his left, leaning against the wall that separates you from the other people seated around you. Since you were hidden from his view, this grants you the rare opportunity to stare at him.
It was with no doubt that Heeseung is attractive and you had seen how many women tried to woo him, be it during or after working hours. He is a gentleman who knows how to treat women right and not to mention, he is kind-hearted, friendly and the list goes on. Your eyes slowly trailed down his cheek outline and that was when you noticed it.Â
A faint, tiny cut etched across his cheek, barely noticeable unless you looked closely. It was not the first time you had spotted something like this. A couple of weeks ago, it had been a bruise on his forearm, the yellowing edges suggesting it was healing. Before that, a small cut on his knuckles he brushed off as "nothing important." Each time, Heeseung had given you a vague response, quickly changing the subject or flashing his easygoing smile to disarm your curiosity. But this time, the suspicion gnawed at you a little harder.
Your gaze lingered on the faded mark, your mind racing with possibilities. Where did he keep getting these injuries? And why did he always seem so intent on hiding the truth behind them? As he straightened up and glanced at you with that ever-casual grin, you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the computer screen. But the question had already planted itself firmly in your mind: What was Lee Heeseung hiding?
â...and thatâs it. You just need to save it and youâre done for the day.âÂ
Heeseungâs voice snapped you back to reality. Blinking, you realized he had finished explaining and was looking at you expectantly. You felt embarrassed at how you were not listening to a single word he had said and you awkwardly cleared your throat. He sighed and light-heartedly rolled his eyes.Â
âYou werenât listening, were you?â He questioned.Â
âUh, well,â you opened and closed your mouth, resembling a fish. The other chuckled and you regained your composure, feeling your ears heating up, âSorry, I was lost in my own thoughts.âÂ
âItâs fine, Iâm sure you must be tired. You can leave early if you want,â he proposed and you were about to protest but you were silenced when he raised his hand, stopping you as if he knew what you wanted to say.Â
âAnd before you say anything, I insist. Iâm your superior and the last thing I want is to find out one of my colleagues is forced to work overtime on a Friday. You should go home and rest,â his eyes softened, concern seeping into his voice.Â
You ended up obeying him and you left the office, heading to the carpark where your car was parked. Once you got in and closed the door behind you, you let out an exhausted sigh as you leaned back into the seat, closing your eyes for a brief moment before reopening them. You started the engine, hearing the vehicle purring to life before driving home.
~Â
The second time you bumped into Heeseung was when you were trying to fix the printer. All you wanted was to print a few documents that you needed to compile together for the meeting today but just to your luck, the papers were stuck halfway. You sighed, kicking the printer in hopes of getting it to work despite knowing your attempt was futile.Â
â(Name), why are you kicking the printer?âÂ
Jumping, you swirled around to see your superior looking at you, amused. You sheepishly scratched the back of your neck. âThe papers I printed are stuck and I think the printerâs spoiled,â you replied, moving to the side when he drew closer.Â
Heeseung hums, eyes focused on the machine. âIs that so? Let me take a look to see if I can help you with that.âÂ
âBut-â You zipped your lips when he shot you a look and you allowed him to do as he pleased.Â
He crouched near the printer, rolling his sleeves up as he fiddled with its inner mechanics, trying to resolve the problem. The soft glow of the overhead lights casts a gentle shadow across his face. As he shifts slightly, something catches your eyeâa faint purplish mark peeking out along his jawline, just below his cheekbone.
Your brows furrow, the sight stirring a mix of curiosity and concern. It was not the first time you have noticed marks like this, and the coincidence feels too uncanny to ignore. This time however, you were determined to get answers. You cross your arms and step closer, tilting your head as you speak.Â
âHeeseung,â you say, your tone carrying a hint of softness but also unmistakable firmness, âwhat happened to your jaw?â
Heeseung pauses, his fingers freezing mid-adjustment as if caught off guard. Slowly, he straightens up, brushing his hands off on his pants. His gaze flickers to you for a brief moment before darting away, his usual confidence replaced with a quiet hesitance.
âOh, this?â He reaches up to touch the mark casually, almost as if just noticing it himself. A small, sheepish chuckle escaped his lips. âItâs nothing, really. I probably bumped into somethingâclumsy as always.â
But the way he avoids meeting your eyes, the slight delay in his response, feels off. You narrow your gaze, stepping a bit closer, determined not to let the matter drop so easily.Â
âYou bumped into something? Again?â you press, folding your arms tighter. âHeeseung, youâve had a lot of these âaccidentsâ lately. Whatâs really going on?â
For a moment, he opens his mouth to respond, but then he hesitates, letting out a soft sigh. He scratches the back of his neck, his usual easy going demeanor faltering. âLook, itâs nothing serious, okay?â he finally says, his voice quieter now, almost defensive. âJust... drop it, alright?â
You frowned, getting annoyed with how he kept dodging your questioning but he had already left without saying another word. You remained where you were, watching his retreating figure until he was out of your sight. Sighing, you approached the printer and you noticed the documents you needed had been fully ejected from the printer. You grumbled a string of curses under your breath as you snatched them away, storming back to your seat and slammed it down on your desk.Â
Bam!Â
The sudden sound startled the people around you. Some gave you annoyed looks while some were curious, wondering what had happened to ruin your mood. Riki, who sat on your left, leaned back so his head was popping out.Â
âYou good?â He asked, raising an eyebrow.Â
You looked at him and sighed, âNo, Iâm this close to losing my mind.âÂ
Your friend only flashed you a sympathetic look before returning to his task at hand. You took a sip of your now cold coffee, rearranged the documents and got back to work.Â
Fine, if thatâs how you want to play then two people can play that game. Iâll make sure I find out what youâre hiding, if thatâs the last thing I do, Lee Heeseung.Â
~
The rest of the week passed in a blink of an eye and it was finally Friday, much to your relief. It is a weekly routine for you to eat and drink with your small group of friends; Sunoo, Jungwon and Riki. The four of you graduated from the same college and to say you were surprised to see familiar faces in your company would be an understatement. You had finished packing, waiting for Riki who was ready to send his final email for the day before logging off.Â
âSo, where are we going tonight?â You asked, leaning back in your chair as you idly swayed side to side, legs outstretched before you.Â
âOh right, I forgot to tell you but thereâs been a change of plans,â Riki answered, shutting down his laptop as he closes it before shoving it into his work bag. You stared at him, bemused and he continued, âJungwon has invited us somewhere and weâre going there now.âÂ
You owlishly blinked your eyes. âLike right now?âÂ
âYes right now,â Riki nodded, rising to his full height and dragged you out of your office. One moment you found yourself seated in his car and the very next moment, you found yourself standing before a pair of closed metal doors.Â
The air was thick with the scent of sweat and adrenaline as you and Riki stepped cautiously into the dimly lit building. The door creaked shut behind you, its sound swallowed by the cacophony of voices and the rhythmic thud of gloves hitting flesh. Inside, the room was a stark contrast to the desolate streets outside.
It was aliveâcrowded with people of all kinds, from spectators yelling over the noise to fighters warming up in corners. Dim fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow over the chaotic scene. At the heart of it all was the boxing ring, its ropes frayed and canvas stained with years of battles fought and won.
As you tried to take it all in, your gaze wandered to the center of the ring. A match was already underway, the sound of rapid punches echoing through the room. It was not until the fighter ducked to avoid a hit, his sweat-dampened hair catching the light, that your breath caught in your throat.
It couldnât be.
But it was.
Lee Heeseungâyour superior, the same person who always seemed composed and meticulous at workâwas in the middle of an intensive match. His usual buttoned-up demeanor was gone, replaced by a raw, almost primal intensity. His movements were sharp and calculated, each strike delivered with precision. Yet, even as he landed a clean hit on his opponent, his jawline bore faint bruises you now understood all too well.
âWhat the hell is he doing here?â you murmured, more to yourself than to Riki.Â
You could not tear your eyes away from him, observing his movement as he delivers a final blow to his opponent, effectively knocking him out. The crowd went wild, cheering and yelling at the top of their lungs when Heeseung was announced as the winner. You saw how his eyes scanned the crowd and your heart stopped when they landed on you. He was stunned, not expecting to see you here and you looked away.Â
The noise and heat of the boxing gym became too much, clawing at your chest like a vice. You turned abruptly, heart pounding, and pushed your way through the crowd. The voices around you blurred into a muffled roar as you stumbled out into the open, the cool night air hitting you like a slap to the face.
You kept walking, your steps uneven and aimless. The distant hum of streetlights and the faint echo of your own breathing filled the void left by the gymâs chaos. You didnât know where you were going; you just needed to get awayâto put as much distance as possible between yourself and the suffocating scene youâd just witnessed. But then, a sudden tug at your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Your body jerked backward slightly, and instinctively, you turned, your heart leaping to your throat.
It was Heeseung.
He stood there, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, his face partially shadowed by the dim streetlights. Sweat clung to his skin, and his knuckles were faintly redâeither from the match or the cold, you were not sure. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made you freeze.
âWhy are you running?â he asked, his voice low and steady, but there was a crack in itâsomething vulnerable, almost desperate.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. The raw image of him in that ringâfighting with a kind of ferocity you didnât think he was capable ofâflashed in your mind, and a knot of emotion tightened in your chest.
âIââ You looked away, shaking your head as you tried to find the words. âI couldnât... I just needed to get out of there. I didnât know youââ You stopped, your voice trembling. âWhy didnât you tell me, Heeseung?â
His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, though he did not let go. âBecause itâs not something I wanted you to know,â he admitted, his tone quiet but firm. âThis... this part of meâitâs messy. Complicated.â
âComplicated?â you repeated, your voice rising in disbelief. âYouâre risking your health, your safety, and for what? To keep it a secret?â
Heeseungâs jaw tightened, the flicker of defensiveness crossing his face. âItâs not about keeping it a secret,â he said sharply, then paused, exhaling slowly. âItâs... itâs how I deal with things. Itâs something I need.â
You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. The Heeseung you thought you knewâthe calm, collected superiorâfelt like a stranger in that moment. And yet, there was something raw, something achingly human in his vulnerability that you couldnât ignore.
âBut why didnât you let me in?â you asked softly, your voice breaking. âYou didnât have to go through this alone.â
His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked as though he might say somethingâsomething real. But instead, he let out a soft, bitter laugh and looked away. âBecause I didnât want you to see this side of me,â he murmured, almost to himself. Then his eyes met yours again, and there was something in themâguilt, maybe regret. âI didnât want you to think less of me.â
Your frustration bubbled over, and you yanked your wrist free from his grasp, stepping back to put some space between you. The cold air stung your cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the sting of his words.Â
âThink less of you?â you repeated, incredulous. âAre you serious right now, Heeseung? Youâre out here throwing punches like your life depends on it, shutting people out, and you think thatâs what would make me think less of you?âÂ
Heeseung flinched slightly at your tone, but you did not care. The words poured out before you could stop them, each one fueled by the flood of emotions you had been holding back.Â
âYouâre supposed to be this confident, composed guy who always has it together, but youâre human! Youâre allowed to have flaws, to struggle, to need help! God, do you think I care if youâre messy or complicated?âÂ
â(Name)-âÂ
âI care about you, okay? I care about you so much that seeing you in that ringâseeing you like thatâhurt more than I can even explain! And the fact that you didnât trust me enough to let me in, to tell me what you were going through, makes me feel like Iâm nothing more than just some... some coworker to you!â
You froze the moment the words left your mouth, realizing too late what youâd just said. The confession hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, as the world seemed to go silent around you. Heeseungâs eyes widened slightly, the shock evident on his face. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the streetlights and the distant buzz of the gym behind you.
âIââ you started, suddenly panicking, the weight of your vulnerability crashing down on you. âI didnât meanââ
âWait,â Heeseung cut you off, his voice soft but urgent as he stepped closer. His expression had shifted, the vulnerability youâd seen before now mixed with something elseâsomething you couldnât quite place.
âYou... care about me?â he asked, his tone careful, as if testing the words.
Your heart raced, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. You wanted to deny it, to brush it off, but the look in his eyes stopped you. It was a look that made you feel exposed but also strangely safe, like he was seeing all of youâthe good, the bad, and everything in betweenâand wasnât pulling away.
âYes,â you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. âI do.â
Heeseung lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his damp hair as a small smile tugged at his lips. âI donât know how to say this right,â he began, his voice softer now, filled with hesitation. âBut youâre... so much more to me than I think you realize. Iâve been scaredâscared of what youâd think if you saw this side of me. Scared youâd look at me differently.â
Your chest tightened, but this time, it was not with frustration or hurt. It was something warmer, something that melted away the tension from before.
âI donât care about that, Heeseung,â you said softly, your voice steady now. âI care about you. All of you. Messy, complicated, whatever. None of that changes how I feel.â
Heeseung blinked, his expression a mix of awe and relief, as if hearing those words for the first time lifted some invisible weight off his shoulders. His lips quirked into a small, genuine smile, one that reached his tired eyes.
âWhy are you always so... amazing?â he muttered, almost to himself, as his hand hesitated in the space between you. Slowly, he raised it, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch so gentle it made your heart flutter.
You let out a small laugh, feeling the tension dissolve into something light and tender. âAmazing? Says the guy who just beat someone to a pulp in a boxing ring.â
Heeseung chuckled, the sound soft and warm. âYeah, well, that guy didnât make me feel like my heart was going to explode every time I looked at him.â
Your cheeks burned at his words, and you playfully shoved his shoulder. âYouâre such a dork, Lee Heeseung.â
âAnd youâre stuck with me now,â he teased, his grin widening, though his voice carried a hint of sincerity. The banter melted into silence as the both of you stood under the streetlights, the night air no longer feeling so cold. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Heeseung took another step closer, closing the gap between you.
âCan I...â He hesitated, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. âCan I kiss you?â
Your heart skipped a beat, but you didnât hesitate. âYou better.â
A soft laugh escaped him before he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was equal parts gentle and fervent, like heâd been holding back for far too long. The world around you disappeared entirely, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the rapid beat of your heart. When you finally pulled away, Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his smile so soft and tender it made your knees weak.
âIâm really glad you care about me,â he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.
You grinned, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his jawline. âI always will.â
~Â
The first person to find out about your relationship was Riki. The poor guy had gone to the pantry after coming to work at nine in the morning, only to drop his tumbler when he saw you and Heeseung making out in a public space. The horrified screech he let out made the both of you pulled away from one another, startled by his sudden appearance. You tried to pat down your hair but it was futile as Riki had unfortunately witnessed the whole scene.Â
âWait, Riki-â You called out.Â
âOh, Jungwon owns me lunch now,â he cackles like a maniac, bending down to pick up his tumbler. He was about to walk away when he turned to you. âOh and congrats on your relationship but for Godâs Sake, please do that nasty shit somewhere else.â
âRIKI!â You yelled, face turning as red as a tomato as he ran away while laughing. You sighed, turning to your superior who is also now your boyfriend, only to find him poorly hiding his laughter.Â
âI didnât know this is funny to you,â you deadpanned.Â
âSorry,â Heeseung coughs, running a hand through his unkempt hair. âWell, now that the catâs out of the bag, how about we grab dinner tonight?â âAre you asking me out on a date?â You cocked your head to the side, grinning.Â
âAnd what if it is?â He copies your action, resting one hand on your waist.Â
âThen I accept but youâre paying, of course,â you replied, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of his lips.Â
âAnything for you.â
#ę¨ writings#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung imagines#lee heeseung x you#lee heeseung x y/n#lee heeseung fluff#heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines#heeseung x you#heeseung x y/n#heeseung fluff
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When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.
After a few hours, I didnât hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said âhiâ and I said âhiâ and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadnât read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said âhey buddyâ and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child theyâd pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.
The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didnât use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldnât and she instantly looked relieved and happier.
My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.
Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didnât make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says âI found a movie about Your People.â My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didnât know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, âHey dad, you know how about half the world is women?â And he said âyeah,â and I said âWell, see, Iâm on that half now. Iâm not doing drag.â And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like âomg thatâs so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?â
Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.
#tgirl swag#mormon#ex mormon#exmormon#worm#gay#tgirl#trans humor#transfem#trans pride#trans stuff#transgender#transgirl#sillyposting#silly little guy#dad#stories#family#short story#story
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interesting but predictable how some of the inherent uncanny valley strangeness of bringing something that exists in the chronically online space into the real world can manifest. Iâve noticed this at all the other tours of theirs as well - some people can have a hard time separating internet behaviors from irl behaviors, and the sudden merging of these compartmentalized ways of being (online vs offline) can be hard to navigate.
I think it can also make people uncomfortable to see their comedic silly billie faves being serious, and thereâs a dissonance to seeing them, these characters who live on our screens, along with the audience around you who are typically just avatars and usernames shitposting in lowercase, all suddenly in the same physical room. And suddenly that often completely disparate, scattered, semi-anonymous community needs to adapt to social mores and group norms in a new social context. Itâs taking a community with its own set of rules that were designed for and in response to a digital landscape and plonking it into a completely alien environment. And yeah, weâre all humans who exist in public outside of our internet lives, but itâs different when that happens but youâre still in the context of the phandom.
Which I think is what leads to things like shouting out rly profane, out of pocket things during the quieter moments of their shows. because if you comment something like that online, you wonât rly be interrupting anything. you might be ignored, you might get some laughs, maybe youâll get a notice bc haha unhinged right. Or like treating an evacuation drill as a lol pass the tea yas mommy daniel moment instead of an oh weâre actually here in real life moment.
I went back to my tatinof review bc I remembered writing this - âsomeone behind me kept screaming at them to "GET NAKED" (particularly during silences in the 7 second challenge) to which everyone in my area responded with claps and laughter.â During my second TIT show, there were people around me who wolf whistled and shouted âkinkyâ and âayo ok freakyâ during totally inappropriate moments. I remember during Danâs quieter bits of WAD people could not seem to just stay silent. (I have suffered complete amnesia when it comes to ii so I canât speak to any part of that experience lol.) after the preshow and during intermission at tit, I heard separate people at separate times making a range of critical comments about Dan and Philâs bodies in ways that were downright shocking and not how I hope theyâd typically feel comfortable speaking about other humans.
I think on the whole, phannies are so lovely and kind to one another. I feel deep gratitude for this community. And I know this isnât just a phandom thing; I think how we treat one another in public spaces has generally really eroded, and concert etiquette has become abysmally poor. But phandom, as always, is a little unique, because of the sense of mutual understanding and the co-created dynamic between us and d&p. It dissolves the boundaries, so when Dan tells you to shut up, your online brain tells you thatâs just a chance to be funny with your fave. When you have a chance to be heard, your online brain provides a memey shitpost joke and your irl self shouts it out even though that ainât the move in a theatre performance unless invited to do so.
No real conclusion here, just some observations about the rly unique dynamic this all creates!
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2x07, part 1.
in a parallel universe Jinx and Ecco are TWINS??? Or was it just an expression? (Upd: probably just an expression, otherwise people would be screaming bloody murder about incest rn, lmao) Also, it's SO weird seeing this average Jinx and still hearing her cracked voice. Her mouth opens, but it doesn't match the tone of this Jinx.
And, damn, the spoilers were right. My girl deserves SO much better.
Hey, if all those people are alive, then Silco should be, too. WHERE IS MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER, SHOW HIM TO ME.
I think I'd love her in every universe.
Hey, does that mean Vi is either dead or insane? They can't be ALL 'normal' here?
???? If Silco isn't here, alive and well, I SWEAR TO THE FUCKING OUTSIDER.
??? Silco's place for her? Where. Is. Silco?
Ah huh! I was right. Love the "if Vi is alive, Powder turns to Jinx" allegory. And, basically, everything goes to shit. I'm afraid Silco might also be dead.
So Jayce needed to land there and Viktor wouldn't lost his humanity. Alas.
And if you love the journey More than the end, Go ahead <...> And where the chipps fall Is not your concern
I see you, Arcane. I see what you did there.
But of course, family is forever and all of that. Meh. At least in some universe she did die.
However, the idea that one of the sisters can't live in the world where another is alive/well/sane. The world is too small for the two of them at the same time.
Yeah, that's why Jayce's going to fuck it all up for everybody.
*looks in the camera like i'm in The Office* Jayce is straight, my ass.
He's kind of in Viktor's place rn. Viktor came out of slums and wanted to give it all to people. Jayce wants to destroy it all. The problem is, it is NOT real in his universe. Like, dude. Use your brain.
It's nice seeing the admission that Jinx is hella smart and does great things in 'our' universe. Terrible, but great.
The green in her blue eyes.
My question is, why are figures/what's left of people mechanical?After Hextech blew up in the universe that Jayce is in? Is it some sort of LoL lore? Therefore that's what Viktor becomes in the current universe after Jayce tried to kill him?
I love her.
Jayce and Viktor the first time they made the relic work... And it's the infinite sign. ;_;
There's something about Ekko, with professor and Jinx, inventing Hextech in this universe, while Jayce tries to destroy it. Honestly, dude would've been way happier if he landed where they are.
LOOK AT THIS PRECIOUS BABYGIRL. It's like when she was creating the thing for Silco with her braids in the air all around her.
The indicators were is that you died a horrible death.
If anything, I'm glad he got the chance to hug Benzo. I need this for SIlco and Jinx.
i was about to say that Silco wasn't mentioned even ONCE during this ep, but decided to wait until the end. the way i gasped. MY BELOVED!!
hey. hey, this isn't Silco (i know and love). the power of family is fucking bullshit, quit with this shit, s2.
when Jinx (well, Powder) and Ekko dance, that's where I roll my eyes and mentally gag. absolutely not. and if THIS is what prompts him to save Jinx in their timeline, then it's a big fat eugh for me.
pretty colours. it suits her.
i am SO imagining Jilco like this. my babies.
they.
Jayce, have you forgotten that you and your mom were dying in your universe?
Heimerdinger should've went back with Ekko.
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Fanfic writer interview
tysm for the tag eb! sorry i took so long getting to it. i swear it was screaming at me from the drafts the whole time
How many work do you have on AO3?
4! (but one of them doesnât really count because itâs a test)
What's your total AO3 word count?
84,177
What are your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?
two ibuprofen - 92 notes
low tide - 44 notes
just us - 26 notes
ofcwbo - iâm not sure but sheâs definitely at the bottom
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
yes i do! i love that people take the time and effort to do this and i want to show my gratitude always. they didnt have to comment but they did. fics are so personal as well imo, seeing what other people have to say about it is. iâm not sure how to describe it but it makes me want to yell into a pillow.
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
ofcwbo will have the edgiest ending, but since i havenât actually finished any of my (posted) fics other than just us, it has to take the title by default. (it does have a very angsty ending though. and an angsty beginning and middle)
What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
using the above logic, just us by defaultâŚ.? (it would be anything in the rose tinted hours collection (that being two ibu or low tide (for now (đď¸)) because thatâs my happiness and i shall keep angst away from it with a 10 km pole)
Do you write crossovers?
nope
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
nope! if that happens iâll wither and die
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
no
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that i know of!
Have you ever had a fic translated?
nope!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
oh dear god. my origin story
back in my reddit phase (i was like 13? leave me alone) i made art for a fandom which mustnât be named and met another person there. we became friends (stranger danger, i know, iâm smarter now) and somehow we started writing fic. it went pretty well, they would make most of the plot and the chapter outline and i would go in and edit it to make it make sense. we had a good run, all things considered. we then moved on to another fandom (read: they dragged me into another fandom) and we wrote for that one as well, except this time i got the opportunity to write my own chapters with my own ocs. thatâs when i started realizing how nice and cool this was.
if youre seeing this, J, hi.
What's your all-time favorite ship?
jean and i. alternatively, me and jean (YEAH FOR SELFSHIP DELULU I LOVE BEING INSANE)
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
i donât have such weaknesses. i WILL finish all my wips.
(ofcwbo. itâs going to drag on forever. deep inside a part of me wants to be realistic and say that itâs a little unrealistic for me to actually get down everything i wanted in a way that satisfies me. maybe i dont even WANT to finish it, because the fic has been such a comfort in the back of my mind for so long that the idea of it suddenly. terminating. is terrifying. maybe iâm overthinking it. i just dont want that world in my head to die, whether that be by fading away quietly or suddenly coming to an end.)
What are your writing strengths?
toughie. i think my descriptions are solid, as well as getting into the mcâs head (but that can just be attributed to the first person pov thing aha).
What are your writing weaknesses?
planning whatever iâm trying to write - i dont control it, it infects my brain and hands and forges its own way. iâm also not a huge fan of proofreading (this mostly applies to the earlier chapters of ofcwbo (i get embarrassed)). i also have a tendency to repeat a certain phrase or metaphor in a fic without realizing it. sequences of actions are hard to write too.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
i try not to do it too much because it can be confusing and having to translate/provide a translation can break the flow. but i do like adding in little phrases sometimes based on my hcs for what languages the characters speak
What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
iâm not sure i have one. iâm deep in the bowels of jean/reader purgatory and i donât see a way out
What's your favorite fic you've written?
just us. <3
@firefly--bright no pressure (yes pressure)
Fanfic writer interview
Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! đ
How many work do u have on AO3?
3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao
What's your total AO3 word count?
8 534
Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes
I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao
Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)
Night watch (Legolas x Reader)
Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)
One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)
Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)
Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)
Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)
TLK men's reaction on being pet named
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).
Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?
What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much â¤ď¸â𩹠There's a little TLK OMC for y'all
Do you write crossovers?
I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).
Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don't know đ Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao
What's your all-time favorite ship?
Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
Now, that's the HARSH one lmao
I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots đĽ˛
What are your writing strengths?
Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?
What are your writing weaknesses?
I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language
What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.
And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader
What's your favorite fic you've written?
The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma
No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland
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Women, so pretty, so shaped, i am so lesbian,,,
#im also incredibly dysphoric tonight#but i was told by my coworker im incredibly feminine by her earlier#and i mean yeah#.....#i am a tall weird internet woman who likes to draw#so funny how i thought i was bi#I'm just really into women...#my ex is a trans guy and he told me he thinks im lesbian and i had a âholy fuck this explains so much momentâ#we broke up but we still have a weird queer relationship outside of social heteronormative norms that is hard to explain and only we#can really understand#im not into men because you know#im a lesbian#had a weird period in my life when i was dating a guy and said im a lesbian and i felt sooooo scared#turns out when youre on meds and your brain is working right you just stop caring about such things#i went on a parade wearing big lesbian flag and girls loved it :)#i dont really know if i ever want to date anyone again#but i think if you look at my art you can really tell my sexuality quite easily lolol#funny how love can be so complicated sometimes#i mean it was kind of inevitable we break up cause we're kind of incompatible but tbh#it was better for us#hehe
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I've made the mistake of putting myself on the greater internet for Star Trek/cosplay posting, and I'm getting a lot of dudes with the most basic, unsolicited advice ever
Should've stayed here in my enclosure
#I've made the grievous error of being apparently female on the internet#like Jesus I will not take your tips but thanks for thinking I'm a moron#like I'm dumber now than I used to be but not that dumb#I was trying to source the patterned coat fabric and people are telling me about the fur#bro I live in burning man country fake fur is the easiest thing to find#'âjust get curtains and carpet' ok dumbass that's not even gonna work#if I could find curtains that matched maybe but otherwise#you need this kind of fabric like yeah no shit#or when my internet went out and dudes came out of the woodwork saying 'plutotv' like it hasn't been feeding the brain rot for over a year#surround yourself with anyone but stereotypical cis guys apparently#believe it or not I can solve my own problems??? especially when I know the scope of them and randos don't???#I'm so mad I've been shielded from mansplaining by sheer isolation#sorry for the rant
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Pre-established jumping-off points I think would be fun to have in various verses that you should tell me if any of them sound like a thing you might want or if they give you a different idea! :
Pen pals!! met once and kept contact or a letter went astray and kept contact or (modern verse(s)) originally met online and have only ever emailed/texted/whateverâ etc. etc., set up for letter/message threads and the "we've known each other but are meeting in person for the first time" thing down the road(!!!)
Henry saved them from drowning (or some other grand catastrophe, drowning just amuses me lol) once
Henry hustled them/otherwise mildly conned them them, once. it was probably for a good reason. probably.
Henry sought them out for a reason related to their profession once or twice or a few times and left an impression because he always Remembers the things they talk about, in their brief conversations, and asks about them later
FWB because your muse is from one of the port towns/other places Henry passes through somewhat regularly and it just sort of happened the first time, and since then every time heâs there heâs comes knocking & they spend the night and tell stories about the things theyâve done since they saw each other last. And then they go back to their daily lives and itâs understood that one day he might not pass through or when he does theyâll have made a new life with no space for him in it and this is not sad or a point of contention itâs just how they work.
FWB and it's specifically because your muse is dissatisfied with but trapped in their current relationship
Worked together once or several times or once but it was for an extended time (e.g. on a voyage, doing odd jobs in modern verse)
Were once on differing sides of some kind of conflict for some reason and are now meeting under different circumstances and theyâre trying to feel out if their past is reconcilable or if theyâre going to keep being on differing sides of things
Your muse hid Henry from somebody he was running from (or assisted in another way, he was injured or needed supplies, etc.) and when they cross paths again he remembers(!) them by name
In modern/modern-adjacent verses; they knew each other from school or a social setting or some such when younger, but Henry's family moved around a lot and so he and your muse fell out of contact, and now they are re-meeting
#i end up with a lot of 'met before and then again' with him but i? always really like them#i think something about it suits him#it's the... flighty bits of him running directly face first into the warm and friendly bits#this is not how the story is going to end ( wishlist. )#also hello there tag reader if you have read all of this and experienced any form of inspiration but thought ''she doesn't want-'' She Does#I am she I know all about her she would like to hear it the inbox and the IMs and the diskorb are all for u#it might take her a hot second to reply but this is indicative of nothing but bad time management skills#if your brain went ''yeah'' or it went ''kind of like that but--'' then! i would like to know!!!
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I am currently trying to get my mind to transition from the fact that I saw the boyz & was in nyc- to focus on the fact that I need to get everything together to see changkyun in chicago- (it's kind of funny i have nothing organized for him- even tho i bought his tickets first...). like ik what I gotta do but i don't wanna do any of it... (i will eventually *soon* but i just need to complain about it first)
#kate rambles#like my brain is 'no i don't wanna' like a child rn#i wish i was kidding but i seriously need to buy my night stay#but to be fair chicago is closer to me (like half the time it takes to get to nyc from me)#kate rambles on from here#literally i went 'uh oh it's nearing august' and i hadn't even heard his album until i listened to it with kebbi today and i'm just#kind of running out of time to be making those decisions- i mean for me tbh the rental car is easy- that's like the easiest thing for me#to do- but it's like driving there- staying the night somewhere niceish- and another little factor that i have to get sorted#and all my brain wants to do is rest#anyways special thanks to kebbi if she reads these tags for listening to that album with me and i can't wait to hear your#experience and all your favorite moments! i'm most excited about that tbh#but by the time you're attending the concert i'll have it all sorted I believe ehbebha#it's just like 'i need to kick my ass into gear' but i'm also 'i don't wanna kick my ass into gear' 'i want to rest with pcd & mourn nyc'#yeah anyways- i'll be good and i know what to do- it's just a matter of doing so#also nvr been to chicago so that'll be an adventure#this is the most i've travelled for concerts in my whole life- and honestly since i was 3 this is the furthest i've gone#and since chicago will just be mom and me it'll be the furthest we've gone by ourselves#it's all so crazy to me idk- it's all happening so fast- and i'm strapped into the high-speed ride praying i got my seatbelt secured
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my family always decides to go to the beach when i physically can not go into the water
#im debating whether to go tomorrow bc on one hand literally what am i going to do besides sit there and bask in the sub#i mean i guess i could read#and nap#and put my feet in the water idk#but again on the other hand i kind of feel bad for my little brother for playing by himself#i mean like me and my older brother played by ourselves all the time#but i think my little brother is also lonely so i feel bad#ill probably end up going#ive been listening to podcasts so hopefully i can like? listen to it at the beach?#the veach we go to has such shit service man#but yeah i do have a giant stack of books ive been planning on reading#and downloaded songs that dont need service to listen to#depending on if i fucking wake up on time since its fucking 1 am rn#michi tag#another con of going to the beach besides boredom is that my little brother starts bullying me for not going into the water#hes like oh are you chicken? scared of the water? and starts making chicken noises you know#like an annoying little brother does#and i cant straight up tell him its bc i am actively bleeding bc despite him almost being a middle schooler im fairly sure the school didnt#give the fifth graders like sex ed?#im not sure if WE got sex ed but we got like. puberty ed#does that make sense. they separated the boys and girls and showed us the exact same movie/documentary so isk why they separated us#and its like these are the changes going to happen to your body :) and a crash course onto all that#i dont think it actually went into sec but it didnt matter i knew abt it anyways at a horrified seven years old#imagine sitting at the dinner table and youre not paying attention and then suddenly your dad grabbed a condom and your mom grabbed a banana#and theyre giving your brother (and also you) the sex talk and youre sitting there like literally what the fuck are you talking about?#i remember staring at that banana like that poor banana??? like i heard what they were saying but my brain was like ???? ok i guess and just#shoved it into the useless information i know section đ#and then when i actually had sex ed in school i would just periodically go oh yeah i remmeber that#ANYWYAS my point is my little brother doesnt know abt periods i think and i cant straight up tell him abt it and im mad#i daydream about going its cuz im on my period and direction him to my parents when he asks so they can deal with the fallout
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I know this wouldn't happen (it better not anyway xd) but imagine if Iris isn't actually a problem at all and she's totally ready to sign but then she goes missing again xD. Carlos just like "aight I got a time crunch this time-"
Everyone: oh no, I'm so sorry đ you're going to find her because she's you best friend though :), that's swee-
Carlos: oh, no, I'm going to find her because she didn't sign the freaking divorce papers before disappearing
#I JUST THINK IT WOULD BE FUNNY OKAY XDD#yeah yeha he loves her and all but MOSTLY he's doing this just so she can sign them slfhdhkjs#just the idea of her not being a problem popped into my head and so did carlos finding someone and my brain went#'what if it's iris and he needs to find her so she can sign' (even though we've been through missing iris before which is why I#don't want that or think it'd happen but hey they've gone the obvious route already xd) and then I realized how FUNNY that concept was XD#it would be kind of ಠâ _â ಠgenuinely like that's the reason for searching for your missing friend but lightheartedly it's hilarious XDDD#9-1-1 lone star#911 lone star#oasis's 9-1-1 chatter#carlos reyes#iris blake#tarlos
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24 days!
#em#milo.txt#im thinking about em again. i mean when am i not they're always on my mind#god they make me so fucking happy#ive been having such a shitty past few weeks but talking to them has helped#it feels. incredibly magical to have a love as strong as ours#they called me a good boyfriend today and they just. get me yknow?#in ways no one has ever. in ways i didnt even expect! in ways that feel full of love#i love how we've become entangled in one another. it really feels like there's no true me without them and vice versa yknow?#like yeah yeah yeah im my own person. kickass grad student whos queer as fuck and hot and theyre their own person.#fucking amazing scientist beautifully radiant individual whos so kind and gentle and fuckn CUTE ((they sent me a selfie this morning#and i was like HEY GIVE A GUY A WARNING OKAY!!! I NEED MY BRAIN FOR SCHOOL! CANT BE TAKING MY BREATH AWAY LIKE THAT#AND RENDERING ME SPEECHLESS!! theyre sooooo cute. i see them and im like ohmygod youre so fucking... youre so pretty youre so cute youre so#hot youre literally every word that is escaping my mind right now and i have never seen something as breathtaking as them))#ANYWAY!!! it still feels like half of me is missing when they're not with me yknow? and its true#half of me IS missing... they are !! they're my other half they're my beloved they're my lavender they're my fucking bestie#it really sucks being this far from them and not having them in my life in person but soon! soon.#theyll be in the same city as me again and we'll go for drives and we'll go grocery shopping together#and get weird looks because we just. get so GOOFY together#godddd i love when we would try to forage for fucking food in [redacted] at like 10 pm but eVERYTHING CLOSES SO EARLY#like that time we went to taco bell and they only took cash so we had to pivot#god i just miss that shit!!!! i miss that with them !!! i miss laughing and being happy and having no worries and feeling. GOOD#i love that i can just look at them and they KNOW what i'm thinking like i dont even have to SAY anything and they KNOW#and how genuine they know me? god. they send me reeses and hi-chews in care packages and its the ONLY time i have them bc i dont usually#buy shit for myself like that PLUS it feels like an extra special treat when i get them from them.#also the way they have helped me love myself? like fuck.#if they're capable of loving me so deeply and truly. maybe i can too yknow?#ill do things that i wouldnt have done before knowing them (like admitting i DO know things and celebrating my 48% on an exam and eating#ice cream because its going to make me happy even though theres still remnants telling me to not)#like.... they really have changed my life for the better
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very messy word dump below the cut + in tags :^) heh
okay itâs officially been a full day since reading this and iâm going to write down everything i remember feeling from day 1! and then in the tags im going to reread this (for the third time within 24 hours) and add thoughts that i didnât put down here. SORRY FOR THE MESS & NO PRESSURE TO READ ALL THIS SJKDMF IT IS JUST A LOT OF WORD VOMIT BC IM INSANE OVER THIS FIC
okay i should start from the beginning. Wait Iâll use caps so itâs easier to read if youâre reading it bahahhaa OKAY. The way you write alpha / omega!!! Itâs different from what Iâm used to readingâ and I mean it has a lot of a depth. The way you wrote reader being an alpha = being so protective over Aventurine fucked me up so bad /pos. Reader just wants him safe and theyâre so real for that.
Going off on that, I LOVE HOW U WROTE THE READER. Understands Aventurine so well. Will literally do anything to keep him safe. Understands what sets him off and what heâs comfortable with. The part where Aventurine was talking about the next mission & reader seeing right through him ): are you serious /pos. WAIT I SKIPPED TOO FAR AHEAD. When Aventurine was trying to get reader to join the IPC? Dead. Evie DEAD. Reader saw right through him omg. Being able to notice the little changes in his scent, the way he tries to mask it etc etc. I love that so bad.
WHEN READER FOUND HIM IN HEAT FUUUCK. ARE YOU SERIOUS /pos. Fighting the urge to help him vs waiting to just make it better because reader has the power to ): I loved that so much. The struggle was so real. Literally bringing a doctor just to hear that he needs an alpha to help anyways omg. Lowkey when the doctor said that I was like PLEASE LET US HELP YOU PLEASEEEEEEE. But also. I didnât want him to be scared either you know ):
I skipped over another scene sighs. THE part where reader said âI like your eyes because theyâre yoursâ and then the end. Him saying he likes our scent because itâs ours. Are you serious /pos. Be so serious /pos.
Okay the scent gland scenes actually fucked me up so bad (I unfortunately did not dream about anything but maybe that is for the best because Iâm still recovering from this scene). The part where he asks for just the wrist. Reader struggling when they FEEL HIS TEETH GRAZE THE WRIST IM GONNA EXPLODE OMFG. The immediate pulling away because we donât want to scare him please. + the scent gland scene at the end. HE DIDNâT FEEL LIKE HE HAD TO BE ON TOP. We could lay side by side ): I was so happy that he was okay with that omg. Literally all giddy like aaaaa!!!!!! IM NOT A THREAT!! Actually thatâs a lie I wasnât giddy. I was literally in tears jejdkckckckk Aventurine đđ ughhhhhhh /pos
I wonât comment on the actual scene (I am commenting on it right now actually) because I was literally so sad and my heart hurt so badly for him. I wanted him to see himself from our POV for just one moment so he can understand that we genuinely love him and treasure him & want to keep him safe. ):
ABOUT YOUR WRITING ITSELF : insanity. I will just say insanity. How should I put it in wordsâŚ.. just thinking about this fic again is taking all the words out of my mouth shejdjfjj (I say this as I type a 27738 page essay about it). I love how you write. I really do. Your writing style is so beautiful. I havenât read the other tags under your fic but Iâm sure many others have said the same thing!!! They word it better than me Iâm sure bsjsjsjsjsk
I just love everything about it. How you add in little details (oh! Speaking of detailsâ Aventurineâs reaction to reader cozying up to her husband in the other fic) HEJDJJDJDJ omg. But in this fic, the little signs of him being scared. Scared 24/7 actually ): I love how you conveyed his fear so much. And the way he tries so hard to hide it. HIM CRUMBLING DOWN TO HIS RAW SELF WHEN HES IN HEAT. AND THE FEAR THERE TOO. INSANE.
^^ How you wrote him so adamant about not needing help at first âŚ. To him asking for the scent gland âŚ.. to him agreeing to use reader. It was all so real. He didnât just change his mind like oh okay! It took him a while to be okay with it and I love how real it all felt. You write dialogue & little details so wellâ it actually drives me nuts (/compliment /pos)
Oh this just reminded me. Your description of how Aventurine smells killed me /pos. And how you describe his scent as sweet. Iâm really not okay /pos. It fits him so well. And ⌠for readerâŚ. the scent after rain ? Oh my god ???? I love that smell so much. Itâs so comfortingâŚ. OMG. COMFORTING????????? BECAUSE. Oh wow. Iâm really not okay now. I JUST LOVE ALL THE DETAILS LIKE THAT )))): itâs so clear you put so much thought into all these things because your fic has so much depth. I lowkey yanked out Notibility for your other Aventurine fic to highlight the parts I wanted to comment on ehdjdkkck I was annotating it like a book (Iâm so sorry if this is creepy I promise I donât do this on a regular basis. I donât annotate fics normally. Actually please disregard this because Iâm a bit red admitting this) (I just have the memory of a goldfish and can only remember feelings and not actual content) (Thatâs a lie because here I am remembering a lot of this fic MOST LIKELY BECAUSE I READ IT WITH MY EYES AN INCH FROM THE SCREEN PROBABLY I WAS LIKE O_O) /pos
NIGHT FLOWER: part i
Your place in the world was one of a tool. This was true of every slave: you were all things to be used. Kakavasha understood this about you, and he understood this about himself. It was how he survived all those years ago, and itâs how he survives now. And so, when Aventurine goes into his first heat in years and decides to suffer it alone, you can only think of one way to get him to accept your help: You offer to let him use you.
written for @/lorelune's spring fever collab & @ficsforgaza
13.5k words of omegaverse, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst with an eventual happy ending. gn alpha reader + omega aventurine (they each have both amab and afab genitalia). explicit piv sex, reader bottoms, the sex is consensual but emotionally complicated and deeply sad. cw slavery, racism, gendered violence, including very brief and non-graphic (but direct) references to sexual abuse during slavery. the sa and slavery are not eroticized. dead dove do not eat, mdni.
thank you to @acerathia, @minnaci, @owlespresso for all your help with beta reading and to @kosmiccarma for brainstorming omega aventurine hcs!
âIâve alwâââ lâved âââ, Kaââvâsââââ
You knew it from the moment you met him.
Gaunt, pallid, weighed down by heavy chains. Irises that glowed like the auroras back in your world. Delicate features that made every passerby in the market stop to read the description on the placard. (Sigonian, it said, although you couldnât read at the time. Avgin. Male. Omega. Sixteen years old. Sixty Tanba, no tax.) He had an all-consuming scent that was impossible to ignoreâone that possessed you, made your heels dig into the dirt, every atom in your body resisting the impatient jerk of the chains at your wrist. Even through your muzzle, through the perpetual stench of carbon-steel and blood, you could smell it: honey and wildflowers. A fragrance that settled deep within you, flooded you with a warmth that felt like home.
Aventurine is not a spiritual person. He once told you this, his smile cold in the glow of an artificial moon. He'd been deeply religious as a child, but hasnât since cared for fairy tales about fortune and fate, three-eyed goddesses or merciful rainfalls. Hasn't thought about anything like a destined love. He thinks the idea of a true mate is laughable, that no such bond could ever be forged between an omega and an alpha. That nothing so unconditional could ever exist.
You know differently, of course. You've known it from the moment you met him, from the second you laid eyes on him and thought, I need to help you, and I need to protect you, and I need you to be safe, and youâd never once heard the word âloveâ in your lifeâslaves are never loved by their masters, after all, and you'd always been nothing but a slaveâbut every atom of your being knew that you loved him, that you'd always love him.
And when your master cradled your face that night and crooned that he owned you, that you'd always be his obedient, alpha petâfor the first time in your life, you knew that he was wrong.
You didn't belong to your slaver.
You belonged to him.
To Kakavasha.
These days, Aventurine does not smell like honey, and your jaw is not restrained.
Your muzzle was one of the first things that Aventurine threw away when he bought your freedom. According to the Amber Era system, it had been several months since the murder of your shared master. Ninety-five Star Calendar days after the Interastral Peace Corps had arrested Kakavasha. An entire rotation around the black hole at the centre of your wretched galaxy, all of which had been spent in the captivity of some new mistress. She picked you out because she liked your calming scent and the look of your face, but mostly she used you for the fighting pits just like your old master.
Aventurine had been sitting in the audience of your final match, then bought you out right after you won. âIâm in need of a fighter,â heâd said, smiling in his thick furs and jewels. He played the part of a slavemaster perfectly, his gloved hands wandering the span of your aching shoulders, touching the bloodied maw of your mask. âAnd Iâd be willing to pay top credit for yours.â
She protested. You were her most prized possession, one of her greatest investments. Slaves from your planet were hard enough to come byâalphas capable of reproduction, nearly impossible. And you were so well-behaved, so poised, so endearing in a way that was rare for alphas. She was fond of you. Her omega slaves were fond of you too. They would be distraught if you left, and that would complicate her household affairsâand surely Aventurine, as a respectable owner of human capital like herself, could understand how inconvenient that would be?
Aventurine bared his teeth in a gracious smile. (Youâd never seen Kakavasha make such an expression beforeâso disarming, so cunning, a crescent moon beneath snake eyes. Heâd never smelt like this either, like an expensive cologne layered with bleach, and it left you feeling nauseous, wondering if he was ill.) He flirted his way into her good graces, made her an offer she couldnât refuse, and then he brought you into the first-class ship on which heâd arrived. You were so stunned by its luxuryâthe handwoven carpets, the crushed velvet seats, the imported tea from several galaxies away and the custom-ordered outfit he had bought for youâthat you nearly missed the tremble in his hands as he punched numbers into the remote control lock for your chains.
He had regained his composure by the time he pulled away your muzzle, though. He threw it carelessly to the groundâyour titanium chains, too. Then kicked both away with his shined leather shoes.
âThere,â Aventurine said, smiling cheerfully. âMuch better, donât you think?â
âVashaââ you started, voice thick with wasted grief, and all you wanted to was reach for him, to double check that he was real, but he placed a finger to your lips and stopped you. You stiffened at the satin touch, but he seemed unbothered.
ââAventurineâ,â he corrected.
You stared blankly. âWhat?â
ââAventurineâ. Like the gemstone. Thatâs my name now.â
âYouââ Your voice caught in your throat. You realized that youâd been holding your breath. You always had the habit of holding your breath in the luxurious, private rooms of very rich men, because you never liked what happened in them. Forcing yourself to breathe, you asked, âYou gave yourself a new name?â
âNo. The IPC gave me a new name. They gave me a job, too.â
âA job?â you asked, voice faint. Now that you were breathing again, you were noticing once more just how bizarre he smelled. Sterile and expensive and completely foreign. âYouâre free now?â
âWell, Iâm a freedman, but I donât know if Iâd call myself free. Iâm a bit⌠indebted to the IPC, letâs say. But thatâs fine. I canât complain. I meanâlook around. This beats the fighting pits, doesnât it?â He gestured lazily at your surroundings, and you nodded.
âItâs nice here,â you replied, feeling absurd but not knowing what else to say. Once Kakavasha got talking, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.
âYou like it here? Good. This roomâs yours. Mine is the next one over. Youâll live and work here, with me. Iâll make sure youâre paid well. Full benefits, vacation, salary, and overtime. The standard pay for your role is seventy-thousand credits per month, but Iâll see if I can get you more. HR is pretty strict about their hiring policies, butââ
âYouâre hiring me?â
Aventurine went very still, his smile tightly controlled. His eyes remained fixed on you, but they seemed less snake-like, now. They looked more familiar. More afraid.
âIâm offering, yes,â he said neatly. âYouâll be part of my personal security detail. I donât have the contract for you to review yet, unfortunately. I didnât arrange one ahead of time because, wellââhe laughed, as if this were polite conversation and he were making a joke about the weatherââI didnât know if Iâd find you alive. But things worked out in my favour. They always work out in my favour. Iâll make sure theyâll work out in your favour too, so long as youâre with me. So youâll consider it, wonât you? Staying withâworking for me, I mean.â
Your eyes went soft. Beneath the artificial fragrance, you finally caught a hint of his familiar scentâmore wildflower than honey at that moment, the way it always is when heâs scared.
âKakavashaââ
âName your price,â he said loudly, âand Iâll match it.â
You sighed. âVasha,â you said more gently, and his shoulders relaxed at the subvocal shift in your timbre, at the famed alpha Voice that necessitated your muzzle, âI donât care about the money. Of course Iâll stay here. Butâwhat happened? Why did you kill him yourself? Why didn't you let me do it? That was the plan. It was always supposed to be me.â
It was my job, you thought then, just as you had thought to yourself every night, curled up in your bed and trying to recall the scent of fresh honey, to keep you safe.
He shrugged and said, âIt would have been too risky to involve you.â
âYou were caught and sentenced to death. The risk was already too high.â
âBut the stakes werenât,â he replied simply, and before you could ask what he meant by that, he continued, âand it worked out, didnât it? I work for the IPC. You work for me. Weâre freedmen now. Whatever I've lost, it doesn't matter. Our gains far outweigh it.â
âAnd what have you lost, Vasha?â
He smiled at you, charming and distracting. A crescent moon beneath snake eyes. âNothing of value,â he reassured you, and even though you could feel the calm of an omegaâs voice washing over you, even though it released all the tension in your body, all you could smell was cologne and wildflowers, and you knew that he was lying.
Vasha once told you, curled up and quiet on the basement floor, that he despised his eyes. They were supposed to be a sign of blessing from Gaiathra Triclops, but they'd never brought him anything but trouble. They were the first thing that the slavers always noticed about him, the feature that made him such an alluring commodity. Their aurora glow, their strange beauty, their promise of a rare opportunity: a chance at owning a specimen of an exotic, endangered species, possibly the last of its kind. These are all things that you've heard in the parlour of your masterâs house as he entertained rich company, the crowd of them gawking at his human curios.
Avgin are said to make the most beautiful slaves, he'd often say. And Avgin omegas are said to be the most beautiful among them. What do you all think? They'd all hum, peering closely at Kakavashaâs features, and inevitably someone would joke, I think I'd like to borrow him sometime, and then they would all laugh while your pulse ticked up and you imagined tearing at their throats. Vasha would search for your gaze in these moments, giving you a long, pointed look: Don't do anything stupid.
Heâd always been so blasĂŠ about it, the way people fixated on his Avgin blood. You'll never understand how. He didn't react to any of the comments, the groping, the innuendos. He was, however, distinctly unimpressed at the way that your master liked to play him up as a rare and expensive acquisition, as a sign of his own status. It's embarrassing to watch, Kakavasha had remarked. Everyone knows that Sigonian slaves are uncommon but cheapâpeople always think weâll bring them more trouble than our worth. This was how Kakavasha had ended up in the market in the first place: because his last master had been robbed, and he'd been wrongly blamed for it.
The blame, to this day, has never stopped. Peopleâpowerful people, politicians, businessmen, socialitesâlook at Aventurineâs eyes and immediately reach for their pockets. You've seen it for yourself, these spineless despots and scammers feeling for their wallets. Sigonian, you know they're thinking. Liar, cheat, thief, whore, worthless, worthless, worthless. Your hands tighten around your blade each time, a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger.
Alphas are said to be violent by nature. Aventurine has often called you the one exception to this rule: the most docile, good-hearted alpha he's ever met. But this is a lie. You do have a predator instinct, and it comes out in full-force whenever youâre around these particular types of men. These types who notice Aventurineâs eyes and see a thief; these monsters who see his irises and imagine what it would be like to bed him. Youâd kill them if you could. It would be so easy, especially now that you are an IPC dog. The Company is already such a violent force; what would be one more murder?
But Aventurine has never ordered you to punish anyone. (Don't do anything stupid, he always tells you with a glance, smiling through every humiliation.) Nor has he ever seemed bothered enough by these meetings to try concealing his heritage.
A fellow Asset Liquidation Specialist once asked why he didn't just hide his eye colourâit would likely be better for fostering relationships, negotiating dealsâbut Aventurine had shrugged it off. I'm a gambler working with the IPC, he'd said. Do you really think a pair of coloured contacts would make anyone trust me? He'd laughed, and his voice had carried a threatening edge, and his coworker had shifted visibly at it. Being an Avgin is the least threatening thing about me, wouldn't you say?
You think that Aventurine likes being seen as a threat. Sometimes you wonder if this is why he doesn't mind wearing his eyes so much, but abhors keeping his scent. He washes his clothes until they're free of his disarming sweetness and then masks himself with an unsettling blend of ambergris, jasmine, and wood. And he is on suppressants all the timeâhasnât had a single heat since the day he killed his master. Hasn't smelled like himself, either.
At the end of the day, itâs manageable being an Avgin in this business, he often comments, spraying half a bottle of masking cologne on himself, but you can't be an Avgin and an omega. Wouldnât you agree?
You'd know better than me, you reply, noncommittallyâand truthfully.
But you're an alpha, he observes. Don't you have an opinion?
You don't pay me to have opinions, you always remind him, stone-faced. You pay me to stand here and look scary. And Aventurine always laughs at this, and he always wires you money and calls it a bonus as he pesters you for an answer, and he always gets distracted and starts scrolling through all his shopping wishlists instead. I saw this thing the other day and thought of you. And this too. Would you like either of them? Would you like them both? Iâm a very generous manager, you know. I'll buy you anything you like.
But even though he always gets distracted, Aventurine never forgets. Sooner or later, he inevitably circles back to these questionsâthese anxieties about his scent, about his eyes, about his blood. He never cares for anyone elseâs opinions, but he's always been curious about yours. Even when he was Vasha, he wanted to know what you thought.
Heâd been sixteen years old and delirious with heat the first time he asked you, face wrinkling with pain as he spilled his thoughts. It was so incoherent, so sad, you thought it must have been about a fever dream. Mama Fenge, he kept saying. Mama Fenge blessed me, She blessed me, I'm blessed, it rained when I was bornâdid you know that? My luck, I was lucky. The Katicans, they never caught me. They got everyone else, but not me. I was blessed by Her. I'm going to save my people. I will. I'll save my sister. My eyes are proof. My mistress liked them. Said they're beautiful. Worth sixty whole coppers. A blessing. He pulled you close, pressed his scalding face to your scent gland, and his whole body shuddered with relief. This was the first and only time he'd allowed you to hold him, and it was only out of desperation, out of his mind. Do you like them, alpha? Do you like my eyes? Why? Is it because they're beautiful? Because they're from Gaiathra?
âI like them because they're yours,â you'd replied, and Kakavasha had laughed deliriously.
This is when he told you he hated them: I'd close them forever, if I could.
When you were youngerâdumberâyou had a habit of squirrelling away every spare coin you came across. You collected them in a little purse that one of the omega slaves had sewn for youâa thank-you for always keeping the other alphas away from herâand you hid it underneath a loose floorboard. By the time that Kakavasha was arrested, you'd saved up twenty-nine Tanba. Youâd wanted enough to buy Kakavashaâs freedom and then to set him up for a comfortable life.
It had been a stupid plan. An embarrassing one. If you ever confessed it to Aventurine, he'd laugh at you. Slaves can't buy other slaves, he'd say. Leave the schemes to me next time. Youâre too good-hearted for it.
Youâd already known that, of course. You knew that you didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him, but you wanted to. God, did you want toâyou spent every waking moment thinking about it, every sleeping moment dreaming of it. It wasn't even that you desired him, though he was beautiful and fragrant and more delicate than anything that had ever touched you in your life, which was only your masterâs hands and your muzzle and your chains. Aventurine would feel so soft in comparison, youâd always figured. It made your heart ache, thinking about getting to hold something so lovely.
But reallyâthat desire came second. What came first was how mated omegas feel safe around their alphas, and you so desperately wanted him to be safe. Kakavasha had looked so frail, so grim, as your master took his chains and led him home from the market, and you could smell the fear coming off him in waves. And you could do nothing to stop it. You had nothing you could use to stop itânothing other than your hands that could kill for him and your pheromones that could soothe him and your useless heart that wanted to collect sixty Tanba for him. That was all you had.
So you failed in the end. Of course you did. You didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him. You couldn't even do for him the one thing you could have doneâwhich was to kill. And Kakavasha suffered for your incompetence. He had to dirty his hands with blood and gamble his way into wealth and then suddenly he was freeing you, not the other way around.
And now you are comfortable. You'll lead an easy life from now, Aventurine reassured you when he brought you onto his ship all those years ago, and he's kept that promise. What about you? you'd asked him then. Will you lead an easy life with me, if you're working for the IPC? And he had smiled and lied to you: Yes.
It had been a painfully obvious lie. If you were a smarter person, you'd have never believed it in the first place. Aventurine has no interest in leading an easy life, because an easy life would be less profitable, and less profit would mean less safety. And he is always, always worried about being unsafe. It is indiscernible to everyone but youâan alpha (his alpha, always his, even if he doesn't want you) who has watched over him for so long that you can detect every shift in his scent. No matter how much cologne he drowns himself in and no matter how strong his suppressants are, you know when he is afraid.
And here is the bitter truth, the ultimate proof of your shortcomings:
Aventurine is always afraid.
It is a beautiful day on Agnisahr, and you can tell that Aventurine is about to throw up from worry.
You're sitting in the middle of stunning wealthâAventurine in his feathers and jewellery, you in your tailored jacketâin a lobby made from marble and pale sandstone, with a view of palm trees and rolling, scarlet sand dunes beyond the window. The waitstaff addresses him as Honoured Guest and they keep his crystal chalice filled constantly with waterâone of the most expensive commodities on the planet. Aventurine has been drinking from it religiously, which is strange as he typically has the habit of forgetting to hydrate. A faint wildflower scent is drifting from his slender form. These are the only giveaway to his mood: he's otherwise as pokerfaced as ever, smiling calmly as he discusses his plans to sabotage the local government and acquire the planet for the IPC.
âThis is a very dangerous mission,â you state flatly.
âAll my missions are dangerous.â He takes a sip, one pinky up. âThe IPC pays me well for a reason. As they sayââ
ââHigh risk, high reward.â I know.â You try not to sound bitter, though you allow yourself to sound tired. âI still do not think the risk is worth the reward in this case.â
âI think over 5.6 million in credits is a great reward, actually. We could do a lot with that kind of money.â
You raise a brow. âWhat could an extra 5.6 million get you that you can't already buy?â It isâas Topaz would sayââchump changeâ in comparison to his current wealth, which sums to a number so vast that you can't wrap your head around it.
Aventurine pretends to miss the point. âTons! We could buy a new spacecraft. Get another mansion. Orâwe could take a vacation to Penacony. I hear it's quite nice there.â A playful smile. âI could get us a penthouse unit. With a featherbed.â
You frown. Sometimes Aventurine likes to flirt when you're being stubbornânot out of interest, but as a ploy to distract you. Heâd developed the habit after he joined the IPC. It used to fluster you, but now it only makes you cross your arms.
âYou could die,â you point out.
âYou'll protect me.â
âNo, I won't. You always find a way to get rid of me when things are most dangerous.â You give him an accusatory stare. âYou never let me do my job.â
He's too shameless to deny it. âAnd it's worked out fine, hasn't it? I haven't died so far.â
âYes. Just by dumb luck.â
âI beg to differ. My luck is quite reliable.â He sets down his glass. Glances back outside. A microexpression, brows knotting for the briefest second as he studies the sky. âI'm not worried.â
âYou're a shit liar.â
That gets him to look at you, letting a small frown pass over his face. âNo, I'm actually a great liar. You're just too good at reading me. It's very inconvenient, you know.â
âI can't help it.â You lean toward him, making a show of it as you sniff. An orchid-like scentâfaint but unmistakableâhas seeped into artificial ambergris and wood. âIt's hard to ignore.â
He hums. He isn't frowning anymoreâbut doesn't look happy, either. âI should change suppressants.â He taps the side of his empty glass, fidgeting. Aventurine never fidgets: it's an amateur giveaway. âThese ones clearly don't work well enough.â
âThat won't help. I know you too well.â Your eyes soften. He's looking outside again, the blues of his irises distant. âYou're worried, Aventurine. More than usual. Letâs back out of thisâlet Jade handle it.â
âThe mission isn't what's bothering me,â he says patiently. âI just don't like this planet.â
âBecause you can tell it's dangerous.â
âNo. Wellâit is, but nothing I can't handle.â He leans back. âI just dislike the weather here.â
You arch a brow. â...the weather?â
âYes,â he says neatly, âit's too dry here. I'll break out.â
You open your mouth. Close it. It is possibly the most absurd thing you've ever heard, and certainly the worst lie that's ever come from him. For as long as you've known him, Aventurine has had flawless skin, marble-smooth, and ever since being freed, heâs never really cared much for looking handsome so much as looking rich. But he maintains his serious expression: all-in on the farce. âDid you know that outside the capital, this planet hasn't had any natural rain in a quarter of an Amber Era? And the stellar winds are terrible. I don't know how people live on a planet like this.â His eyes narrow at the cloudless sky. âThe IPC is going to need to do a lot of terraforming if they want to make this into a merchant hub.â
âAventurine.â
âIt'll be a pain crossing the desertâthe elements will ruin my clothes, you know,â he continues. âIt won't be so bad while we're on the ships, but weâve got to go outside from time to time. Can't make any friends otherwise.â
âAventurine.â
âAnd there's nothing to do for fun when weâre not working.â He sighs dramatically. âI can't wait to get our 5.6 billion and leave for someplace else. I'm being serious about Penacony, by the wayââ
âAventurine.â
ââthough not about the featherbed. I'll get you your own room, obviously. And I'll buy whatever dream experience youâd like. What kind would you want?â
Finally allowed a chance to speak, you say, âOne where you retire.â
âRetire? Why would I ever do that?â
âI don't know. Maybe you decide you've made enough money.â
âNo such thing.â
âThen you can settle down with someone.â
That makes him smile. It feels mocking. âMe? Settling down? With who?â
âWho knows. Someone who will treat you better than the IPC, I hope.â
âAnyone that nice would run in the other direction. But never mind me. This would be your dream experience. What happens to you in it?â
âI stop chasing after you and get to live out the rest of my days in peace,â you say dryly, and Aventurine blinks. âPlease stop deflecting. The IPC gave you a suicide mission. We will both die if we stay here.â
He looks serious now. âI wouldn't let you die.â
âYou can't know that.â
âWell, I do. And I've got decent chances at surviving tooâat least one in ten.â
You feel like sighingâa deep, aggravated noise is heavy in your throatâbut Aventurine doesn't enjoy it when you show anger around him. It's the one omega instinct that he can't ignore, you suppose: unease around an aggressive alpha. Voice tightly controlled, you say, âYouâre going to bet your life on one in ten?â
 âSure. My chances were worse on the last planet, and things worked out great. It'll be the same on Agnisahr.â Aventurine raises a hand, calls for the bill. The conversation is over. You lean back in your seat, watching sourly as he pays tens of thousands of credits just for water.
âYou know, they say the royal family is backed by an Aeon,â you can't help but point out, once the waiter is gone. A last-ditch effort. Aventurine smiles at it, amused. Like you're a child.
âSo what?â He glances outside, at the desolate landscape beyond the oasisânothing but red sand, a blue, rainless sky, and two radiant suns shining above it all. âThe protection of a god is nothing compared to the schemes of human beings. And gods abandon their people all the time, anyway.â
During your tenth day on Agnisahr, you realise that something is deeply wrong.
It takes you some time to understand whatâs happening. At first you think that whatever political danger youâve intuited is much worse than you thought, and thatâs why Aventurine has been so pale, so discomforted, so exhausted. Then his scent starts changingâhe switches clothes two, three times a day (because of all this heat during Agnisahran days, he tells his new business associates) and spritzes his nape with his cologne almost religiouslyâand you wonder if he is sick with something. If the food in this planet has something that disagrees with his Sigonian biology, or if he has picked up one of the local filoviruses, or if someoneâs poisoned one of his meals because theyâve correctly identified him as a threat. Aventurine dismisses every single one of these theories when you bring it up, andâas if in denialâonly attributes it to the weather. (Iâve never done well in deserts, he tells you, his eyes on his phone screen. I'm not used to them. It is above 300 Kelvin, and you do not see a single bead of sweat on his neck, and his cheeks are not even a little flushed.)
You only figure it out when he is too ill to get out of bed one morning and forbids all the IPC staff from coming near his hotel room. It sets off alarms immediatelyâAventurine, no matter how sick, will work and see through meetings as long as he is mentally capable of itâand so you naturally ignore his orders and check on him, using the spare key to his sleeping quarters that you're given as a policy. And as soon as the door cracks openâas soon as you step inside only to be hit with a violent, cloying sweetnessâyou realise whatâs happening and slam the door shut behind you.
âYouâre in heat,â you blurt out, and Aventurineâa shivering, panting mess on the bedâgroans in response.
âWhy are you here?â He turns toward you, still lucid enough to glare at you through the tangled mess of his hair. His voice is weak, but no less self-possessed: âI was very clearâno company today.â
âI am your personal bodyguard,â you remind him mildly. Your voice is calmâboth non-threatening and non-condescending. âThose orders donât apply to me. If things feel suspicious, I look into it. And they felt very suspicious.â Your brow knits as you study his clothes. Mulberry silk clings to his form, soaked through with sweat. Thin, eucalyptus sheets are tangled up around him. There are only two pillows. No water bottles. No knotting toys.
Nothing.
âYou didn't know you'd be in heat,â you realise. âWhat happened to your suppressants?â
âI don't know.â Thereâs a quiet, frustrated edge to his voice. Vulnerable too. It makes you think of when you were both still slaves, and Aventurine was confined to the basement of the manorâthe one that all omega slaves were made to ride out their heats in. Either they would do it alone or were ordered to spend it with some alpha, usually either a friend of the master or an alpha slave he wished to reward. That's when they're most pliable, he'd tell his guests, or sometimes even you. They get so desperate they'll present themselves to anyone. Then amused laughter from the other partyâHow obscene!âas you looked away, blood hammering in your ears.
You had been your masterâs favourite. His most obedient, most profitable petâstriking enough for his guests to admire, deadly enough for his audiences to bet on, docile enough for him to enjoy. Good enough for him to reward, and he often rewarded you with his most beautiful slave: his Avgin omega. Just don't mark him, heâd said, fastening the muzzle around your mouth. It'll ruin his market value. Who knows if someday he'd sell Kakavasha off to some alpha master who wished to claim him, he said. Though I don't think there's anyone in this star system who'd want a Sigonian for a mate, let alone a Sigonian slave. Then heâd paused, eyes scanning over you. As if contemplating. But maybe they'd try to get Avgin whelps out of him, he added, and you felt like throwing up.
You'd never mate him in those moments, your muzzle always prevented you from saying. You didn't even want to think about touching him, and he didn't want to think about it either. Even in the cruel grip of his heats, with nothing but the thin mat beneath him and his slaveâs rags around him, Kakavasha hadn't wanted any kind of contact from you, rejecting any chance of solace. Don't, don'tânot again, not again, he'd begged. Then as the nights marched on and his mind grew hazier, heâd start whimpering too: It hurts, alpha. It hurts. Help me. It hurts. Don't touch me. Not again. It hurts. It hurts. Stop it, please stop it.
It gutted you.
It went against every instinct, not to touch him. To let him lie there, in scorching, lonely pain, when all you wanted to do was to dispel it. It would be so easy to press yourself against him and let his skin cool against yours, do the one thing that your body was good at other than killing. But not again, not again, I can't anymore, I don't want it, I never wanted it, and all you could do was sit there, unmoving. Watch as the most delicate, precious thing you had in your life shatter.
And standing here now, watching Aventurine shatter before you once moreâit is unbearable. He needs a nest, you keep thinking. He needs a nest and some water and some kind of touch, some kind of relief, but not again, not again, and youâre still a slave, still a worthless and stupid slave, and Kakavasha is still crying on a basement floor and you can't do anything for him.
âYou need help, Aventurine,â you say, voice soft, and his whole body tenses. His scent dips, and the scent of florals overwhelms you.
âNo,â he breathes, âI don't.â
âYou do. You're sick.â You bite your lip. Your heart splits as you suggest it, but you say, âI can call a professional.â
âNo,â he spits. The facade is gone. The poker face has cracked. The anger and the pain and the fear are all on full display, and his voice sharpens: âNo strangers.â
No foreign scents, you realise he's demanding. A new scent would probably make him feel unsafe.
Then let me help you, you think of pleading, but not again, not again, and you're filled with so much shame at the thought that all you can do is look away.
âThenâcan I do anything?â He goes still. âNotânot that, but something to make you more comfortable. I can build you a nest, at leastââ
âNo.â He takes a deep, shaking breath. âNo nests. I don't need oneââ
âYes, you do.â
âNo, I don't,â he says. His voice is wavering now, on the verge of crumbling with fever and pain. âI've neverâIâve never needed a nest, I don'tâI don't want toââ He presses his face into his pillow. âI needâI need to be alone, fuckââ
He doesn't mean to whine. The cry for distress is instinct, something that all omegas are programmed to do in heat. Youâve heard that theyâve evolved to make this noise as a way of appealing to nearby alphas for help, but you think this must be a lie as you never once saw your alpha master giving mercy to any of his omega slaves. Still, whether it is your biology or notâthe noise that Aventurine makes has your heart aching so much you can't help but step forward. But he shakes his head and inches away, shuddering violently, and then his voice echoes again in that cold basementânot again, not again, and don't touch it anymore, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore, not again, and it's all you can do to back away until your spine is pressed against the door.
âI'm sorry, Vasha,â you say, strained. âIâm sorry. I'll leave you now.â
As the door shuts behind you, you catch a final glimpse himâface pressed into the pillows, shivering.
If you didn't know better, you'd think he was crying.
When you were both slaves, Aventurine hated seeing you during his heats.
Kakavasha was normally calm around you. Most of the time, he was even friendly (he was friendly to everyone whom he thought could be useful), but he was different during his heats. Sometimes he was vicious; mostly he was withdrawn. Nearly always, he wanted to be left alone. In those moments, all he could register was your alpha scent and his memories of what other people had done to him during his heats. And while you'd have hated to leave him, despised the idea of him being offered to another alphaâeven more than that, you hated violating this boundary of his. Hated that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. Hated being the reason he felt so unsafe.
Hated being an alpha.
Now that you no longer have the orders of your slavemaster hanging over you, it is the least you can do to respect Aventurineâs wish of being left alone. He has every right to privacy, and you have every obligation to give it to him. But instead you have been standing here, outside his door, for a full system-hour.
Every time you try to leave, your body is wracked with anxiety. The thought of other peopleâother alphasâcoming near him in this state makes you seethe, your hands flexing at your side. The predator instinct comes out, and the people around you notice it. Every person unlucky enough to walk down this hall scurries away under your glare, even the other IPC staff wandering about to look for Aventurine: Must be their mate on the other side, they remark to one another, and then they're gone.
It is a hard thing to hear. You are not his mate. You are not even a heat partner. If you were, then he wouldn't be in so much pain. Not now, and not back then.
Aventurine has never had easy heats. You keep replaying your memories of all his past ones, each one a wound in your heart: the aching sweetness of nectar and honey; his withering body as he clutched his abdomen and curled up; the tears and sweat staining the mat beneath him. And above all: the fear. The scent of it, the sight of it, the sound of it in his voice. Stronger today than any other day.
By instinct, you know that he cannot persist like this. That this time is somehow worse than all those other times, and that he will become seriously ill if left alone.
After nearly an hour and a half, you finally open the door, fearing the worst.
âAventurine?â you say quietly, but there's no response, and your stomach drops as you see him.
His body is pale, listless. If it weren't for the fragrance washing over you or the sweat on his temple, you'd worry that he was dead.
Tentatively, you reach out. Rest a hand on his forehead, and it scorches you. He stirs at the touch, doesn't open his eyesâbut the quiet sigh of relief is unmistakable. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach for you.
âAventurine,â you say gently. âAventurine, I'm going to take care of you. Is that alright?â
He doesn't respond. You grimace, pulling away to fetch things for him: several spare pillows from the closet, an extra blanket too. From his suitcase, you grab a few of his sweaters, all thick cotton and fleece. Heâd had a sense that Agnisahr would be cold at night. Deserts always get cold after sundown, since sand doesnât retain heat, he'd told you while he was packing. Or I think so, anyway. Don't know why. Must have read it somewhere. Then heâd given you a long, unreadable look before saying, Make sure to bring a jacket. The warmest one you have. The elements on a planet like Agnisahr can kill a personâeven a person like you.
Iâm sure Iâll be fine, youâd dismissed him. I can survive anything. Any kind of weather, any kind of illness, any kind of pain: these are all things your species is known for being able to endure, the trait that made you such a prized slave in your masterâs eyes, such a useful agent at the IPC. You hadnât given Aventurineâs warning any thought and hardly paid attention to what youâd thrown into your own suitcase.
It surprises you, then, that you find one of your sweaters in his luggage. Made from Sedanian cashmere and heat tech designed by the Intelligentsia Guild. Cloud-soft and warm to the touch. Aventurine had bought it for you before you were deployed to Jarilo-IV to collect intelligence for Topaz. Warmest thing in the known universe, heâd commented. One of a kind, too. Remember to wear it, alright? Don't let my money go to waste, now.
You stare at it, kneading the fleece between your fingers. You hadnât mentioned wanting to bring this sweater. Youâd lost it in your closet some months ago and forgot about it. Aventurine must have remembered and gone looking for it, becauseâwhy? You aren't sure. Probably because itâs warmer and softer than anything he owns, you guess. Of course heâd want to wear it.
You throw it into the pile of things youâve collected for him.
You take it all to his bed, the mattress dipping as you sit next to Aventurine. One by one, you scent each item with your wrist, watching him carefully the whole time. Youâre quiet as you lay them out around him, leaving him undisturbed as you build a nest. You order water and electrolyte drinks too, and youâre quick about going to the door when you hear room service knockingâwith how feverish he is, he probably badly needs it.
Aventurine is awake when you come back. His breathing is still laboured, painedâbut calm.
âI said I didnât need a nest,â Aventurine says, though he doesnât sound angry. You wonder if heâs too weak to be. His voice is faint, and his eyes are barely openâfocused on the pile of blankets and clothing around him.
âYouâre welcome.â You open a bottle of water, hold it out to him. âDrink.â
Aventurine pauses, stares at the offering like it's some kind of foreign object. But he accepts it eventually, sitting up and taking it from you. He winces with the movement, which he tries to hide. He ignores your frown as he drinks, and he doesn't stop until the bottle is empty.
âThere are more,â you say, pointing at the several additional bottles on the nightstand. âAnd some food and some painkillers. I don't know how well theyâll work. This isn't a normal heat. If you're alright with it, I'll call a doctor andââ
âEverything smells like you,â he says quietly, and you stop.
â...yes. Unless theyâre mated, nests usually feel most comforting to an omega when they smell like an alpha.â You swallow, looking away. â...you don't have a mate, and you didn't want a professional, so this was the only option I could think of. I'm sorry.â
âItâs fine,â he says. He picks out one of the sweaters that have made its way into the nest, the Sedanian one. âI don't mind it.â
âOh.â You let out a breath. âThenâcan I call a doctor?â
His grip on the sweater tightens. âNo.â
You frown. âAventurineââ
âIâve never needed a doctor before,â he says. He sounds unbothered, but he's fidgeting with the sweater now. âI don't need one now.â
A lie. He almost certainly needed a doctor in some of his prior heats, but you don't push the matter. âMaybe you don't need one,â you say instead, âbut it would help.â
âI don't need help,â he says, and you look at him in disbelief. He catches your expression, and the corner of his mouth lifts. âNot more than you've already done, I mean.â
âIâve barelyââ
âContact Topaz. Tell her I'm incapacitated. Tell herâŚâ He hums. âTell her I have food poisoning. The personnel too. It's not time-sensitive, our business on Agnisahr, so it shouldn't matter if I need a few days off.â
âYou really needââ
âGive my regrets to our Agnisahran friends. Deliver it in person. They see you as my right hand, so theyâll most appreciate it coming from you. Topaz can help you with the verbiage. Andâtry to socialise with them a little, won't you? I think that little omega princess of theirs likes you. Some of the courtesans too, and they have surprising influence.â
âI do not want to be around any omega other than you right now,â you say before you can stop yourself, and Aventurine stops, blinking. His expression is blank, if perhaps a little curiousâbut his scent shifts. You can't identify how. You add quickly, âIâm not leaving you alone when youâre this sick.â
âAh. Right.â Aventurine looks away. His voice sounds strange, and his heat must be getting to him again, because it carries a hint of pain. âBut you have to. The IPCâs goals take priority.â
You frown. âYour life is more important than the IPC,â you say, and he laughs. Loudly.
âWhat? This is just a heat. Iâm not going to die.â
âYou donât know that without seeing a doctor.â
âI do. Iâm willing to bet money that I wonât die.â He cuts you off before you can reply: yes, you're always willing to bet on your life. âAnd even if I do, that would still be less important than Agnisahr. Do you know how many resources are on this lifeless rock?â His mouth slants. âIf we mess up here, Iâm dead anyway.â
âI wouldnât let them touch you.â
âYes, you wouldâbecause they would kill you too.â Aventurine sighs. His eyes close, and his brow creasesâa sign that whatever reprieve he was lucky enough to get is about to end. âGo do what I asked. Donât do anything stupid. Iâll⌠see a doctor if you do.â
You stand immediately. âAlright. Iâll be back to check on you.â
âI know.â
You stop at the door, giving him a long look. Seeing him like thisâlying on a proper bed, cradled in a warm nest, with water and food and medicine nearbyâyou feel a little better. This is leagues beyond what heâd been afforded in his days as a slave, at the very least. Even if he isnât free, at least he isnât trapped.
But it still doesnât feel good, having to step away. The last thing you want to do is talk to other people, pretend to have interest in other omegas. There are an astonishing number of them who are interested in you on this planetâthat princess, and some baronâs son, and one of the princeâs favourite paramoursâbut you canât bring yourself to care even for business purposes when Aventurine is like this. You can't act as if you are enjoying yourself when you know he is in pain.
You wonder about telling Topaz the truth. You wonder if sheâd be worried enough about Aventurine to let you neglect this mission and cover for you instead, without letting Jade or Diamond or anyone else dangerous know. Not that you think that anyone at the Company particularly cares about Kakavashaâitâs only that heâs valuable. Aventurine of Stratagems is valuable. How many worlds have fallen because of him?
But he seemed unwilling to bet on his worth to them. Which is startling, given how often he's bet on it in the past.
âWhatâs so important about this planet,â you canât help but ask, âthat the IPC would rather you die than lose it?â
Heâs silent for a long moment. His eyes are closedâhiddenâbut you can see his knuckles whiten as he clutches the Sedanian sweater.
âCopper,â he says. âThey want it for the copper.â
When Kakavasha first suggested a friendship to you, it had felt like something in between a proposition and a threat:
Go ahead, he'd said. Use me as you wish. You can even stab me in the back if you want. Just be mindful of this: I don't make deals that don't pay off.
It might have been a strange way of making friends in any other circumstance, but in a house of slaves, it was a natural one. You had not been a clever personâstill aren'tâbut you understood that your place in the world was one of a tool. This was the place of all slaves: you were all things to be used. Your body was a thing to be used. It was valuable for its strength, for its hardiness, for its threat in the arena and for its convenience in your masterâs bed (or in a dark basement, or within a heat house, or inside whichever omega your mistress ordered you to calm down). It did not surprise you that Kakavasha wanted to use it as well. It did not surprise you that Kakavasha expected you to use him in return.
You never would have, of course. Kakavasha was not a thing to be usedâhe had always been a mate. Though you were happy to let him use you, because all you were was a tool anyway, so it was really all you could offer him: to be used.
None of this has changed for you. You don't think any of this has changed for Aventurine, either. With each new friendship he makes, he repeats those familiar words: Use me as you wish. And with each person who accepts, this is exactly what they do: they use him, and they use him, and they use him until suddenly they notice he's tricked them and they've got the losing hand.
You damned gambler, they always spit. You Sigonian wretch. All you know is how to manipulate people. Thief, liar, cheat, whore. Despite all these insults, Aventurine always smiles at them. Cry as they might, heâs won his bet and has their world in his palms.
Winner takes all, he sometimes gloats.
Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. This is all Aventurine knows; these are his great guiding principles in life. (He's told you this point blank, stacking up chips in his favourite gambling dens with a self-satisfied grin.) You often find yourself coming back to these conversations, particularly when you need to convince him of something.
And right now, you very badly need to convince him of something.
Aventurine is ignoring his doctorâs advice. His suppressants are unstable in extreme temperatures, he's been told. During travel on Agnisahr, they'd degraded, and now heâs experiencing his first heat in several years. Of course it's going to be painful, his doctor had said. I can prescribe you some medication to ease the symptoms, but reallyânothing will work better than a heat partner. It doesn't need to be a mate. Any alpha will do.
The doctor had been an alpha. You had asked for a beta or omega, but alphas tend to dominate in Interastral Medical Schools, so they're in short supply. Aventurine had been still the whole time, face unreadable, but you could tell he wanted to throw up at the stench of an unfamiliar alpha. You had stepped between the two of them, not bothering to hide the animosity in your voice. Weâll take the medication, you had said, and the doctor had sniffed the air and nodded at you in approval.
Probably won't need it. An alpha like you could sort him out with just a few rounds, he told you, and both of you stayed quiet as he left.
You still aren't talking, or even looking at each other. Aventurine has lay down in his nest again, closing his eyes, while you stand as far away as physically possibleâat the door where you'd just shown the doctor out. With the room shut off again, windows closed and door locked, Aventurineâs scent is starting to flood your senses once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shivering.
âWhat do you want to do?â you ask.
âNothing.â He swallows. âI'll be fine.â
He's afraid. You can tell he's afraid. And you can tell heâll be more afraid if you take even a single step closer to him, so you nod and say, âI'll go pick up your medication, then,â and Aventurine doesn't stop you. You can see him curling up in his nest, face pressed into the cashmere sweater.
But he still doesn't stop you.
After a few more days, Aventurine finally breaks.
There is a rare sag to his shoulders when he calls you to the room, along with a taste of dread in the air. You haven't seen him so vulnerable in years. Aventurine is not an open person, so cunning and self-possessed in his wealthâbut Kakavasha was more brittle, more powerless, flayed raw and open even though he didn't often get the whip. (It would ruin his value if he ever scarredâhis looks were his greatest selling point, your master said.) He was especially defeated when forced to spend his heats with an alpha he didn't want. You wonder, a vice grip of pain around your heart, whether this entire situation is simply an extension of that. Whether he is calling you here against his will, this time compelled by his pain, rather than his master. Whether this luxury suite feels like that wretched basement to him.
He doesn't look at you when he talks, nor does he sit up. He remains curled in his nest, nearly clinging onto the blankets and clothes.
âThat stupid medication,â he pants out, sharp even in his heat, âisn't working.â
âI can tell.â Your brow knots. Heâs in so much pain, it is palpable. âIââyou hesitate, voice dropping. âCan I help you?â
He goes quiet. As both Aventurine and Kakavasha, he has always been disinclined to accept help from other people. There is no such thing as unconditional help in his mindâonly leverage and weakness. He hates it when people have leverage over him, and he hates being weak. Both are things that can be exploited, and Aventurine always needs to be the one doing the exploiting. He always needs to be in control.
Even like this, the last threads of his sanity about to snap, with every circuit of his omega biology trying to drag him into insensible lust, he fights viciously to be in control.
Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. Control and being controlled. This is how he's always lived. This is how he's always survived.
This is the only way to let him maintain control when he is most afraid of losing it.
âI don't mind,â you say quietly, âif you use me.â
Even through the haze of heat, Aventurineâs eyes sharpen. âWhat?â
âI don't mind if you use me,â you repeat, voice neutral. Unfeeling. The proposal might sound cruel to someone else, but not you. After allâyour place in the world is one of a tool, and this is what you've always done as an alpha and a slave: sleeping with people to take care of their needs, or sometimes just their desires. It did always make you feel strangely hollow, but you think it will feel just fine with Aventurine. All you've ever wanted to do is keep him safe, and surely, this will do that, butâ
âI'll only help if you want. I don't want to force it.â You lower your eyes. âBut if you do want it, I'll be careful with you. You can lead. I promise.â
â...I know.â Aventurineâs voice is weak, cracks with pain, but you can tell he's speaking with clarity. âI know you will be.â
You look up. âThen you'll let me help?â
Aventurine looks awayâa sign that he cannot adopt his usual smile. Heâs clutching that sweater again, pressed close to his chest.
âJust your wrist,â he says quietly.
You listen carefully. âWhat?â
âI justâI just want your wrist.â He looks away. âYourâyour scent gland. Only that.â
âOkay.â
You get up, then falter. When it was your job to comfort your mistressâ omega slaves, you were told to enter their nestsâno permission needed from them, no permission needed from you, because only her permission ever mattered for anything. The omegas were usually too delirious to care, often had even begged for it with the state of mind that they were in. But Aventurine is different. He's not like you, and he's not like them. He's never bent to any of his mastersâ wills. And even if he did, you wouldn't want to have him bend to yours.
Instead of climbing into his nest, you ask, âCan I sit on the bed?â He doesn't answer. âJust the edge of it,â you add, and you hear him exhale.
âFine,â he says, breathing measured.
âThank you,â you say, and he gives you a confused look. But then you're reaching out with a hand, offering it, and he is quickly distracted.
Aventurine drops the sweater, grabs your hand almost immediately. He turns over your palms, fingers tracing your heartlinesâas if testing you, as if mapping out territory. He runs his thumbs along the veins of your wrists, too, right over your scent gland, and you have to force yourself not to shudder at the feeling. You only stay still, letting him explore the contours of your hands, letting him acclimate to the feeling of your skin. He laces his fingers with your own, a latticework trap, and he finally drags his wrist along yours.
Both of you inhale sharply.
You can't react. You know it'll scare him if you do, but it's hard to keep still. The way his scent blossoms, the way it mingles with yours, the way it all washes over youâwhat you're doing can hardly be called touching, but you feel like you're going mad. Especially when he flushes like that, his vibrant eyes fluttering shut. Especially when the sweetness of honey overtakes your senses. Especially when you can smell the way his body is reacting, all that wetness and heat and slick dripping between his legs. You don't miss the way his thighs rub together, nor the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.
Aventurine shudders. He brings your hand up to his face, rests his cheek in your palm. His skin is flushed and burning with fever, and it's no wonder that he's sighing with relief at your touch. You try not to stare at the way his mouth falls open. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze a hazy violet and blueâbefore he closes his eyes again and presses his lips into your wrist.
Fuck.
âAventurineââ You have to stop, voice strangled, when you feel the full softness of his lips working against your skin. Heâs panting now, laboured breaths sweeping over your veins. Then you feel his teeth catch, a gentle nip on your flesh, and when he groans into your racing pulseâdeep, relieved, desperate, a noise that makes your gut flare with heatâyou realise you can't do this.
You pull back your hand, and Aventurine startles.
âAventurine,â you say, voice strained. Maybe we should stop, you want to say, but he cuts you off.
âI needââa shaky breathââI need more.â
You watch Aventurine carefully. His pupils are dilated, blue irises nearly eclipsed. His cheeks are rosy, and he can't stop panting. You can fully smell his arousal now, even through his silk clothes. He's desperate, needing to be filled.
But he also looks torn. His brows are knotted, and you can taste a faint hint of fear in the air now. His knuckles clutch at the sheets, almost white, and he stares at them. He can't look up. He can't look at you. His whole body is tense, like he wants to boltâand if he weren't so weak, you think he might actually.
âAre you sure?â you ask.
He doesn't nod. He also doesn't shake his head. His arms clutch at his midsection as he winces. He doesn't look like Aventurine. He looks like Kakavasha. It makes your heart ache as you watch him give into his bodyâs demands, wearing the same expression he did on the day your master bought him.
â...don't use your Voice on me,â AventurineâKakavashaâsays quietly.
It takes you a moment to realise what he's asking. âI won't.â
âAndââhis eyes somehow grow even more evasive, hidden by his long lashesâ âdonât touch my commodity code.â
His commodity code. His commodity code that is seared into his scent gland. His code that, if you kiss, will ease his agony instantly. His code that, if you biteâwill chain him to you irreversibly.
âOf course I won't,â you say instantly.
He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.
âAndââ Aventurine looks away, jaw tight. His voice is quiet but wrought with tension: ââI don't like when people put things inside me.â
Something claws the walls of your heart.
âThat's fine too,â you reply. âI don't mind doing it the other way.â
Aventurineâs sigh is nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. His scent shifts a little bit, the wildflower fragrance fading ever so slightly. But he doesn't come to you. He merely sits thereâwaiting. Expecting. Maybe dreading. Even in the senseless daze of heat, heâs too anxious to move.
You approach slowly. Though you're overwhelmed by the bouquet of his scent, though you feel a curl of heat in your belly in response to itâyou are slow. Alphas are supposedly victims of insatiable lust whenever around an omega in heat, absolved of every action they take, but you are convinced this is a lie. You have never once wanted to handle Aventurine with such cruelty. You think that inflicting violence on him, more than anything else, would go against your biology. Every molecule in your body would reject putting him in such pain or inciting such fear. So you are careful when you approach him, slow as you inch up to himâbut you do not think it helps.
Aventurine lies down, his face turned away from yours. His eyes squeeze shut, like he's expecting this to hurt. Uncertainty gnaws at your gut as you lean over him, draping your body over hisâthe only position you've ever taken an omega in, other than mounting them from behind.
(You do not want to mount Aventurine. You never have. It is an impersonal position, a position that omega biology supposedly would force him to enjoy, a position that alphas have likely dictated him to enjoy. You think there is nothing you would hate more. In your weakest, most selfish moments, in your worst ruts, when youâve allowed yourself to fantasise about mating Kakavashaâyou are always facing each other, and he is always looking at you with his eyes you've always loved, and it always feels intimate. Never impersonal. Never dictated. Never forced.)
Aventurine is so honeysweet beneath you. More fragrant than any omega youâve ever been with. You glance at his commodity code, trying to ignore the scent of his branded skin, then lean down to press your face against the other side of his neck, where a faint scar mars the otherwise flawless slope of his nape. Like every other omega slave you've ever slept with, the scent gland there has been excised: a precautionary measure to reduce the risk of an unwanted mating bite.
(Not unwanted by themâthe wants of a slave never matterâbut unwanted by their owners. A mating bite would ruin the code seared into their neck, claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. It would hurt their resale value. Only owners are allowed to claim slaves in such a permanent wayâand the wants of a slave have no relevance there, either.)
It's a funny thing, this surgical scar. Even with their gland missing, you've noticed that most omegas like having their neck scented by you anyway, probably from some vestigial instinct. You guess that Aventurine won't be any different, that maybe it will comfort him. But when your lips skim the scar left on him by his owner, his entire body stiffens beneath you. His fragrance cuts into your lungs, sharp.
You recoil, as if burned by the touch of him.
âSorry,â Aventurine is quick to say. He tries to glance at you, but his diamond pupils quickly avoid you again. âDonât worry about me. Just do whatever you need to do.â
âBut you're scared,â you point out, and you see his brow twitch. âYouâre scared when I touch you.â
âNot scared,â he lies. âJustâŚâ
When his eyes finally look at youâland on your lipsâyou understand.
A bite would claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. If you lost your mindâgive into the insatiable lust of an alpha whenever around an omega in heatâyou might bite him, and then you would own Aventurine.
And Aventurine would rather die than be owned by anyone again.
He doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already know what you need to do.
âIt's okay,â you say gently, and his brow knots. âI have an idea.â
Aventurine is always afraid.
This is a fact that has haunted you since the day you met him. You've wondered about how to fix itâthe bare minimum as his mate (always his, even if he doesn't want you)âand youâve never quite pinned down how. Because when someone has spent their life in perpetual fear, how do you make them feel safe? When their life is constantly at risk, how do you ever make them feel calm?
You still aren't sure of the answer. But after seeing Kakavasha become Aventurine, you now have a good guess.
It is clear from his scent that Aventurine does not feel remotely safe right now. Not when you leave to fetch something from your own room, and not when you return. The anxiety thickens when he sees, in your hands, a very familiar muzzle.
Aventurine stares. He is not smiling, but he also does not reveal his discomfort on his face, even as beads of sweat line his temple. But his voice is too controlled, too calm, when he asks, âYou kept the mask.â
You nod.
âI told you to throw it out,â he points out, âwhen I freed you.â
âI know. Sorry. I don't know why I kept it.â You remember how tightly you clutched it before the incinerator, thinking about how strange it would feel, discarding something that you'd worn everyday since you presentedâbut you don't tell him this. Instead, you say, âBut itâs convenient.â
Before Aventurine can say anything, you toss him the remote.
âYouâre afraid of my bite and my Voice, but you don't have to be with this,â you explain. Your tone is gentle, soothing. Probably disarming coming from an alpha, with how he is in heat. Perhaps that's why heâs studying the remote rather than chucking it away. âYou'll be in full control if I wear this.â
Control. Mere seconds after you say it, you can smell his fragrance change again, mellowing. It's only a brief moment of calm that fades when you latch the mask onto your face, but he doesn't smell as nearly as stressed before.
Aventurine watches you carefully as the carbon steel swallows your maw, its old and familiar edges biting into you. For the first time in years, you cannot tell what he is thinkingâtruly poker-faced even to you.
âYou aren't bothered by wearing that thing while we do this,â he saysâasks?âand you shake your head. The muzzle was part of you for years. You were wearing it when you killed someone for the first time. You were wearing it when you went into rut for the first time. You were wearing it when your master had sex with you for the first time. It doesn't bother you that youâll wear it when you have sex with Aventurine.
If you could speak, you would ask him, Why do you think it would bother me? But all you do is gesture for him to sit up. To switch places with you. You lie downâsomething you've never done with an omegaâand wait for him to get on top.
Aventurine stares at you for a long, quiet moment. It's followed by a sigh of relief. Disarmed, heâfor the first time in any heat you've witnessedâfinally relaxes. His scent wafts over you as he climbs between your legs, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hands as he parts your thighs, almost scalding.
He doesn't bother getting you ready, too needy to think rationally, but he doesn't have to anyway. You've been wet ever since you felt his mouth touch your wrist, hard ever since you heard him groan into it. You're equally desperate to get some relief as you feel his cockhead sliding against your opening, leaking all over your entrance as his slick drips onto your thighs. His breath shakes as he enters you, and he can't hear it with how you're muzzledâbut you groan just as deeply as him at the tight stretch.
You hear him swear when you clench around him, watch him lean over you. His arms shake as he supports himself, refusing to succumb to his heat even as he chases his relief. You seek out his gaze (just as in your dreams, facing each other, intimate), and his neon eyes catch on your eyes for a brief, breathtaking secondâ
âbefore he looks away.
There's a flash ofâyou don't know what, maybe pain? Or fear?âin his irises as he does. A twitch of the brow, a tell he'd normally rather die than let slip. You have the realisation, as Aventurine moves inside you, that even while you're muzzled, even while he has complete control over youâhe still can't stand having sex with you. Probably because he can't stand being in heat in general, you tell yourself. Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore. He'd have this reaction to anyone.
Stillâyou didn't expect him to have this reaction to you.
Your hands twitch, possessed by an old instinct to cover your eyes. But you'd probably scare Aventurine if you moved your arms, so all you do is dig your fingers into the sheets and squeeze them shut. You tell yourself again and again that he'd hate having sex with anyone in these circumstancesânot just you. And then you tell yourself, as a desperate, broken moan leaves his branded throat, that he would also come inside anyone in these circumstances, caught within the cruel grip of his heat.
Aventurine stills inside you as he finishes. He pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he shudders in his ecstasy, his spend hot and thick inside you. You can feel his fever break as he comes down from his high, the heat coming off his body easing into a manageable warmth.
Do you feel better, you try to say, but you can't move your mouth while your mask is on. So you wait patiently for Aventurine to come back to himself, watching him carefully as he pulls out and rolls onto the mattress beside you. He finally glances at you then. His eyes narrow once they land on you, confusion flicking through them. Then displeasure. He reaches for the remote.
To your surprise, he immediately punches in the code to unlock your muzzle. Aventurine has apparently remembered the numbers after all these years, as if the moment he freed you has been since seared into his memory.
âAre you okay?â is the first thing you say, and Aventurine gives you a confused look. Heâs still panting, dazed, so you ask, âCan I check your temperature?â And when he nods, you confirm your suspicion: he's still much too warm.
There is an ache between your legs and a strange hollow in your gut (because you aren't very experienced with receiving, you thinkâyour body likely just isn't used to the feeling of it), but you quickly forget them. All you can think of is Aventurine, and how heâs still unwell, and how you need to comfort him. The instinct is so strong that you don't even say anything as you get up, straightening out your clothes.
âAre you leaving?â Aventurine asks. His voice is neutral, completely unbothered, but the thought is so horrific to you that you turn back to him with wide eyes.
âOf course not. I'm going to get you water and medicine.â A beat. You stare at Aventurineâs eyes, then think about how he hid them from you during sex. The hollow feeling comes back, but it's mostly eclipsed by your anxiety at the next thought: â...do you want me to leave?â
âDo you want to?â
âIââ I'd rather die, you think. Being forced to leave him right now would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. You don't know if there's an alpha in this world who could leave their mate in the middle of a heat. And even if he is unmarked, unattached to youâyou still think of yourself as his mate. (His, always his, even if he doesn't want you.) âI would prefer not to. I am your heat partner. I'm supposed to take care of you.â
You hear a quiet breath. âRight. Of course. You're always so conscientious.â Aventurine nods, as if convincing himself of something. âTry not to take too long.â
âIâll come back soon,â you promise, and the air sweetens. Encouraged, you add, voice gentle: âIâll bring that medication, and then we can have sex as many times as you need after I come back. I'll make sure you're not in any pain anymore.â You pause, studying him. âIs there anything else you need to feel better?â
His fragrance changes once more, this time in a way you don't totally recognize. âNo.â His voice sounds strange. His scent is still foreign, fluctuating, possibly hinting at some kind of pain. The heat must be getting to him againâand of course it wasn't enough, what you just did, what you can provide. He likely needs to be filled to get any kind of lasting relief, but you left him empty. âNo, that's all I want.â
You nod, forcing yourself to look calm. Ignoring the emptiness in your gut. It didn't feel bad, but you hope it'll feel better next time you have sex. You think it will. Alphas are supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust near omegas in heat, after all. And even though youâve never felt that beforeânever felt anything sleeping with all those omegas in your mistressâ houseâyou are sure you'll eventually feel it around Aventurine.
But the feeling never comes. Even though you can tell that his heat has returned by the time you're backâsweat beading his temples, laboured breaths at his lips, his bottoms now discarded, with full evidence of arousal between his legsâyou don't feel much of anything as you reach for your mask again.
âDon't,â Aventurine says, before it can clasp around your face. You give him a curious look. He explains, âDon't. I don't want to have sex again. Not yet.â
You stare at him, shifting. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Not knowing how he wants to use you. âWhat can I do?â
He gives you a long look. âCome here. I⌠I want your scent gland.â
It's a sensible request. If there's a way to seek relief without fucking someoneâwithout fucking you, which he clearly hated doingâyou're sure Aventurine would prefer it. So you climb into his nest, holding your wrist out for him, andâ
âNo.â His voice is quiet. âI want the one on your neck.â
â...oh.â
You stand there, not sure where to move. If he wants you in his nest again, or if heâd rather do this standing. Youâre relieved when he demands, âLie down.â
You expect him to get on top of you when you do. Assume that he wants complete controlâbut he instead lies down beside you. Presses his body into yours, and then his face into your neck. His nose and lips brush against your scent gland, a full-body shudder running through him, andâ
âand now you know for a fact that it is a lie that alphas want nothing other than to fuck an omega when they're in heat. Because even like this, with his lips sweet on your neck, with the sheets soaked with his slick, with his spend leaking out of youâyou do not want to have sex with Aventurine. You only want to hold him. You only want him to keep scenting you. You only want to scent him back.
You only want him to feel safe.
You breathe in deeply, lungs flooded by honey. You think of what it felt like to hold him in that cold basement, when he was delirious with fever and pain, and you think about how different his scent is now. How much sweeter it is. How much calmer he feels.
âDo you feel better?â you ask, and he doesn't respond, but you know the answer. His hands come up to dig into your shirt, and he presses into you like you're a sweater in his nest. Silence blankets over you both, calm and warm. His laboured breath starts to improve.
He does eventually speak.
âHas anyone ever told you,â he says, âwhat you smell like?â
You stare at him. Your master used to say that you smelled good, but he'd never elaborated, and you hadn't wanted him to. âNo.â
Aventurine breathes in.
âYou smell likeââ A little sigh, shaking and feverish, leaves him. âYou smell like rain.â
Your eyebrows tick up. âRain?â
âYes. Or not just rain, butââhe pauses, next words quietââmore Iike after it rains. You smell like the desert after a rainfall.â
âOh.â You don't know what to say to that. Feeling distinctly like it's a silly question, you ask, âIs that a good scent?â
âSome would think so. Especially to people from the desert. You probably smell like a blessing to them. AlthoughâŚâ
Aventurine goes quiet again. You stare at the chandelier above you, all crystal and white gold, and wait.
âAlthough?â you prompt.
â...although I wouldn't really know,â he says. âItâs just a hunch. I bet it's why so many omegas on this planet like you.â
You couldn't care less about those other omegas. All you care about is Aventurine. âAnd?â you say. âDo you like my scent?â
His reply never comes. He just breathes deeply again, seeking relief from your neckânot intimacy. Any alphaâs scent would work; that doctor told you so. Any alphaâs touch would work, too. There are no special feelings involved here. Your place in the world is one of a tool, and tools are never especially liked nor disliked. Their value exists only in how they can be used.
You don't know why you even bothered to ask the question.
But then something strange happens: Aventurine curls against you, pressing even further into you. His lashes flutter against your pulse again; it ticks up in response, beating fast against his lips.
âI do,â he says quietly. âI do like it.â
You swallow. âBut I guess that's because you're in heat. Any alpha would smell good to you, wouldnât they?â
âNo.â His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. âNo, I like it because it's yours.â
You know better than to read too much into his response. Aventurine had already said it earlier: No foreign scents. He's only tolerating this whole arrangement because you don't smell unfamiliar to him. Only able to use you because you are the least threatening option.
But the words break something in youâbreak the thing that made you unable to throw out that little pouch of copper coins that you were saving up for Kakavashaâs freedom, the part of you that made you wear that carbon-steel mask for him. It is this part of you that has your eyes squeezing shut and your arms wrapping around him. You know heâll recoil, reject you, but just this onceâyou need to try.
Aventurine doesn't push you away.
He melts into you instead, inhaling deeply. Your scent gland tingles with the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips. He seemsâcomfortable.
You can't fathom why heâs staying in your arms. Perhaps he's simply desperate for some kind of relief from his heat, just like when you held him in the basement while he was delirious from pain. But Aventurine had spoken to you with clarity just now, and his skin doesn't feel scalding so much as warm, and his scent is so different than from that moment. So sweet and so gentle, without a trace of fear. It makes your heart squeeze. As much as you've always wanted Aventurine to feel safe, you'd never imagined that his scent would be so beautiful when he is.
It makes your heart ache. You've never held anything so lovely before, and youâve never felt so warm before, and it all makes up for how badly it hurt to let Aventurine inside you. How hollow it made you feel to let him use you. How none of that matters as long as you can keep him safe like this, because you belong to Kakavasha. You'll always belong to Kakavasha, in a fate that was chosen for you on the day you met him.
You're his, always hisâeven if heâll never want you.
end part i
thank you so much to lore for hosting a fantastic collab and to my sponsors who funded this fic and got it over the finish line! please go check out @ficsforgaza to find other amazing hsr writers you can sponsor in order to help fundraise! here is my own wip list, if you are interested in seeing more from me!
and thank you most of all to YOU! I appreciate you so much for reading this chapter. thank you so much for sticking it through.
additional end notes
#彥 favorites.#cw slavery#cw racism#cw violence#cw sa mention#the first sentence with the block letters ): it says Iâve always love you ??? gonna go cry now (I already did last night)#âyour eyes went soft. beneath the artificial fragrance / you finally caught a hint of his family scentâ âthe way it always is when heâs#scared.â THIS LINE BROKE MY HEART. his facade is not facading . WE KNOW. WE WILL ALWAYS KNOW#ânothing of valueâ god dammit aventurine i want to shake his shoulders so bad. this is killing me#OMG THE COIN PURSE PART. THE READER IS SO SWEET )))))): OMG. I remember the face I made at that part /pos and I did tear up quite a bit#âyou never let me do my jobâ YEAH. whatâs up with that ????????? aventurine u turd. I WANT HIM TO LET US LOVE HIM SOOOO BAD HGGGRRRRRRRRRRR#âno im actually a great liar. youâre just too good at reading me. itâs very inconvenient you know.â okay i donât know how to explain how i#feel. but can I say I heard this perfectly in his voice ? and it made me react some way. like jaw fell open kind of way. your characteriza#UGH I HATE THE TAG LIMIT characterization** IS SO GOOD I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING IN MY HEAD itâs like a movie is playing in my brain mhm mhm!!!#also the part where we keep repeating aventurine over and over and he keeps talking about what he could buy ): LISTEN TO MMMMMEMEEEEEEEHHRH#âit went against every instinct not to touch himâ THIS IS WHAT I MEANT in my word dump )): trying so hard but so conflicted because#as an alpha you can make it better for him. but he doesnât want that so u respect it. but heâs in so much pain ): UGHHHHHHHHHH#the sweater part . are you serious /pos. this is such a cute little detail ): Iâm gonna start sobbing again can we give him the world#âeverything smells like youâ im sorry đ we donât have much to work with mr aventurine BUT HE SAID âI donât mind itâ SOđĽşđĽşđĽş#âcopperâ âthey want it for the copperâ the way I started laughing because r u serious . Iâm actually a little . brow twitched. BROW TWITCHE#oh okay the copper! right. the copper. (the table flips over) be so fr rn /pos#the entire wrist scene I read with one hand over an eye and also hidden under my blankets because I was so tense HEJDKCKJCKD#âaventurine would rather die than be owned againâ my heart shattered into pieces at this btw#him still remembering the pass to the muzzle ): and the âare you leavingâ im literally gonna cry all over again /pos#the neck scent gland fucked me up so bad. and the rain scent. and he likes it because itâs ours . x _ x / T_T#i have thoughts about your other fic but I will probably write them tomorrow because now I would like to re-re-re-read this one đ
#Iâve always loved * for the first tag dammit I canât imagine how many typos are in this whole thing#TLDR : great work !!! loved this > < <33
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i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.
she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.
so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.
babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?
you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.
skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.
(it was not my best costume.)
my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.
so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.
i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.
so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.
so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.
"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"
and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said
"overalls"
and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."
and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.
the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.
first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.
second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.
and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.
she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."
"lets watch shrek 2."
so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.
every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.
and god help him when he figures it out.
other bad dating story here.
#funny stories#dating#dating fiascos#minions#the minion incident#anecdotes#fuck shrek#and fuck shrek 2#like its the best in the shrek series but that movie is basically my trigger now
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i am having a genuine core memory type of bad day today like serious SERIOUS things are going down and i missed a flight because genuine life changing events are happening and got put on standby for another which got delayed multiple times til i wouldâve missed my connecting flight home and anyways it was overbooked so i didnât make it on, and then now five hours after they left me at the airport im finally heading home and i was like âwell at least i can eat the fries i bought that i didnât get to eat yesterdayâ but my useless cousin who has not only been completely useless through this weeks long ordeal but has also been making things worse stepped in and ate the whole giant box of fries cause he âthought we were leavingâ even though my mom clearly left half her stuff behind at the house and told him we did not make our flight so she was going to stay in town and try and get me home and also this whole situation (except for the fries) is straight up my fault cause i didnât wanna get out of bed for 20 minutes when we woke up and like normally this would be fine especially since i went to bed at 2 am packing suitcases and then had to wake up at 7 and also slept super poorly anyways but i still have no self discipline and everything has gone wrong because of that
#i should be freshly showered and in bed right now having a good cry#iâm genuinely seething at my cousin btw we keep asking him to do the most basic things and he makes some excuse#and then it turns out to be a lie#like my cousin is stronger/bigger than i am so my mom wanted his help w the suitcases#and we went out for one last dinner last night but he kept telling my mom he wanted to go home and sleep bc his job starts early#and getting irritated at her when she tried to take two minutes to finish eating#anyways we went home early and he did not go to bed. we could hear him gaming and yelling at the computer til we went to bed at 2 am#and his job starts at 3 am so he canât have actually been worried about sleeping#oh he also just didnât go to work and this is like a repeated occurrence#and he didnât bother seeing us off to the airport or wake up til like 11#when i called him saying we needed him to bring my passport and it was an emergency#idk this all seems like super trivial but my mom is straight up handling a tragedy alone#i wonât deny that i havenât really been useful but iâve been coming along everywhere on top of remote working from here#meanwhile heâs kinda just been at home gaming and not leaving his room#i can kind of excuse his brother whoâs also been at home but heâs also like super obviously been prepping for a super rough final and idk#ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. can you at least have some decency and like#try not to pile more work on my mother who is dealing with one of the worst things that can happen to her#and try to use your parents not being around as an excuse to run around town with your friends#while lying to my mom and saying you need to sleep or work or yeah youâll be straight home (youâre going for lunch with your buds)#i mentioned something about how iâve spent time with him instead of my friends when heâs visiting us and he was like âyou have friends?â#i donât know man i canât cry in bed i canât sleep cause they keep the house cold#basic functioning is making me miserable with the brain issues i donât know what to do#cause if i go home im going to be in the exact same situation just#with a better bathroom and a guitar and feeling useless and sad because i canât help#anyways i need to text my boss to let her know no shot i can make it tomorrow#which feels awful cause i was supposed to get back A WEEK AGO i had to extend i hate it here i hate it here i hate it here
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đ đ đĄđ˛đśđ´đľđŻđźđđż đśđ đŽ đŁđźđżđťđđđŽđż [ 2 ]
Part One Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? Sexual Themes 18+ ONLY: fingering, cunnilingus, Bucky loves tiddies, dirty talk. Summary: Though you've become oddly close to SergeantBarnes, it's still difficult to act normal around him. A/N: I didn't think many would ask for a part two but here you go. divider by @cafekitsune
It was a peaceful evening in the apartment gymâor, at least, it was supposed to be. You had your plan: thirty minutes on the stair climber, some stretches, and youâd be out of there before any awkwardness could find you.
But then you heard itâthe unmistakable sound of weights clanging, followed by a deep, low grunt that made your entire body freeze.
You glanced up, hoping against hope that it wasnât who you thought it was. But, of course, there he was: Bucky, over at the hip thrust machine, setting up his weights directly in front of you. Perfect, you thought. Of all the machines in here, he has to pick the most⌠suggestive one.
Your eyes flicked back to the tiny screen on your machine. Stay focused, you told yourself. Donât look. Just ignore him.
But the moment he started his set, you heard itâa low, powerful grunt that practically reverberated through the gym. You immediately bit down on your lip, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead, pretending you werenât having flashbacks to his other kind of workouts.
Another deep grunt.
Your hands clenched the stair climberâs handles like a lifeline. Do NOT look, you told yourself, the mantra echoing in your mind. But your treacherous eyes slid sideways, just for a second, and you caught a glimpse of him, face focused, breaths heavy as he powered through each hip thrust. The guy was practically a one-man gym commercial.
You looked away, focusing on your stepsâyour very uneven, slightly panicked steps. Itâs just a hip thrust, for crying out loud! Nothing unusual here, you told yourself, trying to stomp out the heat creeping up your cheeks. But every time he exhaled, your mind filled with images of⌠well, his other performances.
Then, in the middle of one of his reps, Bucky let out a particularly deep, guttural grunt that nearly threw you off balance. Your foot slipped, your rhythm stuttered, and in a moment of pure panic, you clutched the handles and stumbled forward, practically throwing yourself onto the machine.
âShit!â you yelped, fumbling to regain your balance as your legs moved faster than your brain, desperately trying not to faceplant.
You heard Bucky chuckle, that low, infuriatingly amused laugh, and felt your cheeks practically ignite. You looked up, heart pounding, only to find him smirking in your direction, eyes dancing with mischief.
âCareful there, Y/N,â he said, raising an eyebrow. âStair climbers are brutal.â
âOh, yeah, totally!â you squeaked, straightening up, trying to look like you meant to almost eat it. âJust⌠keeping things interesting. Got to keep the cardio exciting, you know?â
âLooks like itâs working,â he replied, wiping his forehead with a towel, his grin widening as he noticed your death grip on the machine. âYou sure youâre good over there?â
âOh, Iâm⌠Iâm great,â you lied, your face flaming as you tried to regain your composure. But he wasnât done with you yet.
âGlad to hear it,â he said, voice way too smooth. He paused, then tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. âGotta admit, though⌠this machine setup does feel a bit familiar.â
Your brain nearly exploded. Did he justâ? He couldnât mean⌠But his eyes sparkled with that infuriating, knowing look, and you knew exactly what he was hinting at. Your face went beet red as your foot slipped again, but this time you managed to catch yourself, narrowly avoiding another disaster.
âUh-huh,â you said, laughing nervously, desperately trying to hold it together. âWell, enjoy your⌠uh, workout!â
âOh, I am,â he said, chuckling softly. âEspecially with the view.â He winked, setting up for another set while you tried not to spontaneously combust.
With one final, mortified glance, you turned your attention back to the stair climber, mentally swearing youâd never step foot in this gym again after this.
Since you survived the stair climber ordeal without faceplanting (barely), you decided it was time to move on. Somewhereâanywhereâthat didnât involve Buckyâs hip thrusts or his incessant, maddening smirk.
You zeroed in on the bench press. Safe, you thought, relieved. Just a standard exercise. Nothing suggestive, no chance of stumbling, tripping, or looking like a klutz. You grabbed the bar, took a deep breath, and mentally prepped yourself. Easy-peasy.
And thenâbecause the universe simply refused to give you a breakâyou heard that all-too-familiar voice right beside you.
âNeed a spot?â
You looked up and almost swallowed your tongue. There was Bucky, looming over you with that same damn smirk, wiping his hands on a towel like he was gearing up for some personal training session from your worst/best nightmares.
âOh, uh⌠Iââ you stammered, already feeling the heat creep up your neck. Youâve got this, you told yourself. Just let him help you. No big deal. Youâre a mature, fully-functioning adult.
âYeah, sure!â you squeaked, trying to sound normal as he stepped closer, positioning himself behind the bench. You laid back, gripping the bar, and immediately realized what a horrible, terrible mistake this was. You were now lying flat on your back, Bucky leaning over you, his face far too close as he focused on making sure you could lift the weight.
âYou ready?â he asked, his face all business, but his lips still had that mischievous curve.
âReady,â you mumbled, eyes darting anywhere but up at him, trying to ignore how absolutely awkwardly intimate this felt. You started your set, breathing steadily as you lifted the bar, determined to act as if this were a completely normal workout.
But then, midway through the reps, he leaned down a little closer. âBy the way, did you check out my new video?â
Your hands nearly slipped. You fumbled the bar, barely catching it as your brain short-circuited.Â
âW-What?â you managed, voice strangled, heart racing.
âMy new video,â he repeated, casually reaching out to help guide the bar back into place as you struggled not to lose it. âThought you mightâve seen it by now.â
Your cheeks flamed, but you somehow managed to choke out, âN-No! I⌠I havenât seen it!â
Bucky chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow as he straightened up, his voice taking on a teasing, almost disappointed tone.Â
âOh. Thatâs a shame,â he said, smirk lingering. âDidnât have a costar this timeâjust me, actually. First time Iâve ever done that.â
Your mouth dropped open. Just him? Your brain skidded to a halt. Suddenly, you were far too interested in a video youâd just denied seeing.Â
âOh, um⌠interesting?â you squeaked, trying to keep your face neutral but definitely failing.
âYeah,â he replied with a shrug, looking at you with twinkling eyes. âGuess youâll have to let me know what you think⌠whenever you get around to it.â
âActually, I⌠uh⌠I kind of stopped watching⌠since we, you know⌠know each other. Just⌠feels awkward.â
Buckyâs grin widened, his eyes lighting up with amusement.Â
âOh, so youâre telling me weâre too close for you to watch my work now?â He raised an eyebrow, looking mockingly offended. âI thought we were supporting local artists.â
Your cheeks practically combusted as he said it, and you fumbled with the bar, desperately trying to pretend you hadnât heard him. Supporting local artists? Was he serious right now?
âOh my god,â you mumbled, absolutely mortified. âThis is notâ Youâre notâ I meanâŚ!â
But he just looked down at you, that smug grin firmly in place as he leaned in, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state.Â
âWhat?â he asked, feigning innocence. âDonât you believe in supporting the arts?â
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, words completely failing you. âThis⌠this is not the same!â you finally blurted, clutching the bar like it was your only lifeline.
âOh really?â he replied, chuckling. âBecause it sounds like youâre saying weâre too close for me to keep doing what I do. You know, my passion.â
You practically choked, waving your hands around in frantic denial. âNo! No! Thatâs notâ Iâm not stopping you! Iâm justâ I donât know, maybe supporting from a⌠distant, supportive spiritual place?â
He laughed outright, shaking his head. âSo, whatâyouâre like cheering me on⌠but from across the street?â
You nodded vigorously, still trying to save face. âExactly! Just⌠supportive⌠but in a non-participatory kind of way.â
âGot it,â he said, smirking. âSo, Iâm officially your guilty pleasure now.â
You groaned, covering your face with your hands as he chuckled, clearly far too pleased with himself.Â
Note to self: Avoid all future conversations with Bucky Barnes for the rest of eternity.
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
That evening, you were finally settled at your dining table, a bowl of pasta in front of you, determined to put the entire gym disaster behind you. Youâd survived another encounter with Buckyâbarelyâand now all you wanted was some quiet, non-embarrassing time with carbs.
But as you twirled your fork in the noodles, your brain betrayed you, replaying his words from earlier.
âDid you check out my new video?â
You paused mid-bite, the fork hovering near your mouth as you stared blankly at the wall, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and dread bubbling up. What could he have meant by âjust meâ? You tried to shake it off, forcing another forkful of pasta into your mouth. Nope, not going there.
But the thought lingered, nudging you, until you found yourself setting down the fork, fingers hovering over your phone. Just one quick search, you reasoned, glancing around your empty apartment as if someone might catch you.
You typed in the familiar site, thumbs hesitating above the search bar, nearly typing âSergeantBarnes new videoâ before you snapped back to reality, dropping the phone like it burned.
âOh, no,â you muttered to yourself, horrified at how close youâd come. âAbsolutely not. What am I, insane?â
You shoved another forkful of pasta into your mouth, shaking your head furiously. âI am not doing this.â
But as you continued eating, your eyes kept darting back to the phone, the curiosity gnawing at you, leaving you torn between common sense and the very persuasive power of nosiness.
You took a deep breath, clenching your fists. âGet a grip, Y/N. You are absolutely not watching that video.â
...But maybe just a preview?
You groaned, stuffing your face with more pasta, determined to win this internal battle.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
The next morning, just as you were heading out the door for work, you spotted something bright and obnoxiously neon-colored taped to the wall near the mailboxes. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stepped closer, squinting at the bold, glittery letters.
POOL PARTY THIS WEEKEND! it proclaimed. Food, drinks, music, fun! Donât miss it!
You raised an eyebrow, debating if youâd actually brave a building-wide party when suddenly, the quiet hallway was shattered by a loud, unmistakably ecstatic moan. The kind that could only mean one thing.
From none other than Buckyâs apartment.
You froze, eyes widening in disbelief. Is thatâ? Is heâ?
A second moan, even louder than the first, confirmed it. This wasnât just any moan; this was the sound of someoneâsome womanâhaving the time of her life. At what had to be eight oâclock in the morning.
âOh, seriously?!â you hissed under your breath, glancing down the hallway as if there might be witnesses to this auditory ambush. Just then, the womanâs voice hit a pitch so high it practically reverberated off the walls.
You winced, clutching your bag like it could somehow shield you from this. Who even has that much energy in the morning? You took a step back, hoping to escape the sonic nightmare, but the moans only got louder, each sound more animated than the last.
You threw your hands over your ears, eyes squeezed shut as you muttered furiously to yourself.Â
âNope, nope, absolutely not. Not today, not right now.â You spun on your heel, practically power-walking down the hall, doing your best to drown out the soundtrack blaring from his apartment.
âYES, SERGEANT! OH MY GOD!â
You practically stumbled, muttering an alarmed, âOh my god, stop!â as you picked up the pace, pressing your hands even harder against your ears. It was like some kind of cruel gameâthe closer you got to the elevator, the louder it seemed to get, echoing in your ears like a siren you couldnât escape.
You winced, feeling your face burn as you all but sprinted down the hall, chanting, âNope, nope, NOPE!â under your breath like a mantra. It was as if your feet couldnât carry you fast enough, each step a desperate attempt to put some distance between you and⌠whatever was happening in that apartment.
Finally, you made it to the elevator, slamming your finger against the button with more force than necessary, glancing nervously over your shoulder as if the sounds might follow you. The doors mercifully slid open, and you dove inside, leaning back against the wall and pressing your hands over your ears one last time, breathing a sigh of relief.
But just as the doors began to close, one last triumphant shout echoed down the hallway, loud and clear, like the universe had decided you hadnât suffered enough.
You groaned, staring up at the ceiling as the doors shut, wondering if this building had any quiet hours, or if you were doomed to start every morning with a full-blown soundscape of⌠Buckyâs extracurricular activities.
Note to self: Invest in earplugs. Maybe some noise-canceling headphones. Or a new apartment altogether.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
You arrived at work looking like youâd barely survived a natural disaster. Traumatized, sleep-deprived, and still hearing the morningâs very loud soundtrack echoing in your mind, you slumped into your chair, hoping to quietly blend into the office scenery and get through the day in peace.
Naturally, that was too much to ask.
âWhoa,â Trish said, swiveling in her chair to eye you like you were a science experiment gone wrong. âYou look like you just spent a night in a haunted house.â
âOr⌠like you had a wild morning,â Amy added, raising her eyebrows. âYou okay there, Y/N?â
âFine,â you muttered, barely making eye contact as you set your bag down, trying to erase the vivid flashbacks of Buckyâs⌠extremely enthusiastic co-worker.
Before you could even recover, Trish leaned in, her grin spreading like wildfire. âSooo⌠did you finally get around to watching Sergeant Barnesâ new video?â
Your head snapped up, heart stopping in your chest. âWhaâno! Why would I⌠I mean⌠Iââ
âOh, come on,â Amy said, nudging you like sheâd just caught you in a guilty pleasure. âYou donât know what youâre missing. Heâs alone in this one.â She leaned closer, adding in a stage whisper, âThe man has talent.â
âUh-huh,â Trish agreed, nodding like a sage. âNo costars this time. Just him, going all in. Itâs⌠impressive.â
You clutched the edge of your desk, mentally scrambling for any kind of response that would shut them down without revealing the secret you swore youâd take to the grave: that Sergeant Barnes was actually your neighbor.
You swallowed, managing to squeak out, âYou know weâre in an office, right? As in, the place we do work?â
âOh please, donât act like youâre all professional now!â Trish smirked, crossing her arms as she gave you a knowing look. âYou were all too eager to do some âresearchâ when we told you about him the first time.â
âYeah!â Amy joined in, her grin absolutely diabolical. âYou should be thanking us! The way youâre looking right now, Iâd bet you already took a look this morning.â
You spluttered, mortified. âNo! I mean, of course not! Itâs justâthis is⌠inappropriate.â
Amy snorted, clearly unconvinced. âUh-huh, sure. And here I thought you had a little curiosity.â
You glared, fully prepared to tell them off, but Amy cut in first, smirking as she leaned over your desk.Â
âCâmon, Y/N, itâs just us girls. Tell me you donât have some curiosity about what the man can do when itâs just him and the camera.â
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, struggling to keep your cool. âNo, Iâm not curious! Not at all. And maybe you two shouldnât be either, because, oh, I donât know⌠WE ARE AT WORK!â
They both cracked up, sharing a delighted high-five as you buried your face in your hands, praying for the ground to open up and swallow you.
âOh, weâre just messing with you,â Trish said, barely holding back laughter. âBut seriously, girl⌠you look like you need to unwind. Maybe with a drink or⌠you know⌠a little quality screen time?â
âOr maybe someone live and in-person?â Amy chimed in, waggling her eyebrows.
You groaned, face down on your desk, cursing the fact that they would never, ever know the full story.
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
You stepped into the lobby, utterly drained from the day, just as the elevator doors began to slide shut. Without a second thought, you bolted, slipping in right before they closed. Only then did you realize the universe was playing tricks on you.
Because standing right there, with a half-smirk on his face and way too much knowing mischief in his eyes, was Bucky. Alone.
You froze, instantly regretting every choice that had led to this moment. But it was too late now, so you plastered on a polite smile and tried not to look like a deer caught in headlights.
Buckyâs eyes twinkled as he took you in, leaning casually against the side of the elevator as he said, âTired?â
You laughed, and before you could stop it, the laugh turned into a borderline deranged chuckle.Â
âOh, yes, thank you very much,â you replied, sarcasm slipping out before you could rein it in. Then, muttering under your breath but clearly audible, you added, âMaybe keep it down too⌠in the morning.â
He chuckled, looking way too amused. âSorry about that. Work, you know? She, uh⌠went home right after, donât worry.â
Your face went flaming hot, and you whipped your head to look straight ahead, pressing your lips together like that would somehow save you from this horror.Â
âOh, you donât⌠you donât have to explain it to me,â you stammered, feeling like your cheeks were practically on fire. âIâm not worried.â
The smirk only widened. âGood to know.â He leaned in just a little, adding, âI wouldnât want to keep you up⌠unintentionally.â
You choked, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you let out a mortified laugh that you could barely stop from turning into a squeak. Just get to your floor, just get to your floor⌠you chanted internally, keeping your gaze laser-focused on the elevator doors.
But you could feel him watching you, could practically feel the amusement radiating off him as you tried to pretend that your life hadnât just devolved into a rom-com nightmare.
Finallyâfinallyâthe elevator dinged at your floor. You stepped out, sighing with relief, only for Bucky to step out right behind you.
âHey,â he called, making you pause and turn reluctantly. He was smiling, hands casually shoved into his pockets as he looked you over. âAre you coming to the rooftop pool party this weekend?â
âNo,â you replied flatly, the answer escaping before you could even pretend to think about it.
He laughed, clearly not deterred. âAw, come on. You sure? Itâll be fun.â
You shook your head vigorously, waving him off. âNo, no, Iâm good. Iâm⌠not much of a party person.â
âReally?â he replied, stepping a little closer, his smile turning into something dangerously persuasive. âItâs just neighbors hanging out, not some crazy nightclub thing. Good music, food⌠probably no loud⌠work, either.â
You glared, suppressing an eye roll as he gave you a wink. âIâll pass, thanks.â
âOh, come on,â he said, still grinning. âIf you donât show up, who am I going to talk to about all the âworkâ complaints?â
You stifled a laugh, trying to maintain your resolve. âPretty sure there are other people you can bother with that.â
âBut none of them have your⌠constructive feedback,â he replied, his gaze dropping to the floor as he pretended to look shy. âAnd honestly, I need someone to keep me in check. Iâm a handful at parties. Who else is going to stop me from climbing onto tables?â
You snorted, crossing your arms as you tried not to crack a smile. âI highly doubt youâre a handful at a pool party.â
He raised an eyebrow, challenging you. âCome and find out.â
You looked away, shaking your head but feeling the corners of your mouth tug upward. âBucky, Iâm not going.â
âSo, youâre saying youâll leave me up there with all these people who⌠donât know me as well as you do?â He tilted his head, giving you a mock-pout.
Your face turned red, and you sputtered, âI donât know you! I barely know you!â
âOh, so all those research sessions werenât exactly getting to know me?â he replied, grinning as he watched you turn an even deeper shade of crimson.
âYouâugh, youâre impossible,â you muttered, finally laughing despite yourself.
âThatâs what everyone says,â he said, his voice softening just a little as he held your gaze. âCome on, Y/N. I promise, no loud work. Iâll even save you a spot.â
You sighed, feeling the last bit of resistance crumble. âFine. But only for an hour.â
He beamed, triumphant. âDeal. And who knows? Maybe weâll find something to actually talk about⌠outside of work.â
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart did a little flip. This is going to be a disaster, you thought. But somehow, you didnât mind as much as you thought you would.
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
The weekend took forever to arrive, but somehow, you survived itâmostly by avoiding Bucky and doing your best not to think about that ridiculously intriguing video heâd hinted at. Nope, not even a peek. It was your own personal victory, though it took every ounce of willpower you had.
And now, here you were, standing at the rooftop entrance, mentally psyching yourself up. Youâd put on a two-piece swimsuit under a white sheer cover-up, feeling only slightly self-conscious as you stepped out. Only because you hated drawing attention to your body.Â
The party was already in full swing, a mix of upbeat music and laughter filling the air. You scanned the crowd for a certain troublemaking neighbor, but no sign of him. Great, you thought, rolling your eyes. Bucky drags me up here, then vanishes like an ass. Typical.
You made a beeline for an empty lounge chair, setting down your bag and towel, hoping youâd have a chance to relax before anyone else noticed you. But just as you were about to sit, a deep voice called out.
âHey there!â
You turned to see an equally impressive figureâa tall, muscular guy with a sun-kissed smile, striding over with a confident swagger.Â
âIâm Johnny,â he said, flashing a grin as he handed you a cold glass of beer. âWelcome to the party.â
âOh! Thanks,â you said, taking the glass, feeling only slightly overwhelmed by all the testosterone on this rooftop. âNice to meet you, Johnny.â
âLikewise,â he said, eyes flicking over you with the appreciation of someone who knew exactly what he was looking at. âDidnât expect to see a new face up here. I know most of the regulars.â
âYeah, I⌠usually keep to myself,â you admitted, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze.
âWell, glad youâre here,â he said smoothly, gesturing to a chair beside yours. âMind if I join you?â
Before you could answer, another familiar voice cut through the air, low and unmistakably amused. âJohnny.â
You turned slowly, bracing yourself for whatever cocky look Bucky had in store, but when you finally laid eyes on him, your brain just⌠stopped. No thoughts, head empty, because the second he strolled into view, you swore you heard the sultry opening saxophone of Careless Whisper start playing, echoing dramatically in your head like some corny, slow-motion rom-com entrance.
He moved in perfect sync to the imaginary music in your head, each step more absurdly cinematic than the last. This canât be happening, you thought, but somehow, there he wasâtan skin, swim trunks slung just right, and that damn casual shirt hanging open over his shoulders. The man looked like a vacation ad, except he was bringing you dangerously close to a heatstroke.
As he got closer, the sax solo in your mind reached ridiculous, life-altering levels of intensity. Why do you have to look like this? you thought, nearly choking on the vision before you. Buckyâs smirk turned into something almost smug, like he knew exactly what effect he was having, as if he, too, could hear the George Michael anthem of seduction playing in your head. You half-expected him to whip out an actual saxophone and start serenading you right there.
You swallowed, barely keeping yourself from drooling, and willed yourself to stay composed. Get a grip, you told yourself, though you were about 98% certain your jaw was on the verge of dropping.
âSorry, Johnny,â he said smoothly, not even glancing at the other guy. âI think she already has company.â
You quickly tried to compose yourself, forcing a neutral expression as you willed your face not to betray the sheer catastrophe your brain was going through.Â
âOh, hey, Bucky,â you said, hoping your voice didnât sound as strangled as you felt. Inside, you were practically screaming. Why do you have to look like a freaking Greek god, Barnes? Itâs rude, honestly.
Johnny raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. âYou two know each other?â
Bucky leaned casually against the lounge chair next to yours, flashing a grin that practically oozed mischief.Â
âYou could say that. Sheâs my neighbor,â he said, his tone implying⌠well, all sorts of things. You immediately knew that everyone within earshot was definitely getting the wrong idea. âAnd Iâve been trying to get her to come out of her shell for a while now.â
Come out of her shell? You wanted to throttle him. But before you could retort, Johnny, ever the gentleman, just gave you a knowing wink and clapped Bucky on the shoulder.Â
âWell, guess Iâll let you take over, then,â he said, sauntering off with an amused smile.
You sighed, turning to face Bucky, who looked all too pleased with himself as he settled in beside you, stretching out like he owned the place.Â
âSo, you made it,â he said, taking a leisurely sip of his drink as his eyes did a once-over that was a little too thorough.
âYep,â you replied, your voice barely concealing your exasperation. âI showed up, just like I said I would. Where were you?â
He shrugged, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. âWas just giving you a chance to make some new friends,â he said, his tone way too casual.
You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of the beer Johnny had given you. âPlease. You just love making an entrance.â
He chuckled, clinking his glass with yours. âCanât say youâre wrong about that.â
As he leaned back, his gaze lingered a little too long, making your cheeks heat up.Â
âNice cover-up, by the way,â he commented, smirk widening. âItâs⌠modest.â
You shot him a look, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the sheer fabric draped over your swimsuit. âWhy, thank you. That was kind of the point.â
âYeah?â he replied, his voice dropping just a notch. âShame, though. Bet that swimsuitâs got a whole lot of personality under there.â
You practically choked on your drink, coughing as you glared at him. âYouâre such a flirt, Barnes.â
He chuckled, clearly unbothered by your reaction. âHey, just saying what everyoneâs thinking.â
You settled back in your chair, determined not to let him get the upper hand. But as you sat there, pretending to ignore him, you couldnât shake the feeling that, despite everything, you were enjoying this game just as much as he was.
You took a deep breath, narrowing your eyes at Bucky, who was looking far too pleased with himself.Â
âLike I said, just one hour,â you told him firmly, crossing your arms as if that would somehow fortify your resolve against whatever mischievous plans he undoubtedly had.
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning even more devilish. âOh, Iâm sure an hour will be more than enough.â
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. âFor what? So you can drive me insane and then sit back and enjoy the show?â
He chuckled, leaning a little closer, and you felt your heart rate spike. âMaybe. But I was thinking more along the lines of just⌠keeping you entertained.â
âOh, Iâm plenty entertained, thanks,â you shot back, trying to sound unimpressed despite the heat creeping up your neck.
He shrugged, unfazed, and settled back into his lounge chair.Â
âGood. Then letâs make it the best hour of your week,â he said, flashing you a wink that sent a new wave of exasperationâand, annoyingly, a bit of excitementâthrough you.
You huffed, shaking your head as you took a sip of your drink, determined not to let him see just how much that smirk was affecting you. Just one hour, you reminded yourself. What could possibly happen in one hour?
As you and Bucky settled into a strange, almost comfortable silence, you heard a booming voice from across the pool.
âCHICKEN FIGHT!â Johnnyâs voice rang out, loud and enthusiastic, immediately grabbing everyoneâs attention.
You whipped your head around, eyes widening. Johnny was wading into the pool, rallying everyone like some kind of pool party commander. âCome on! Everyone in! We need two teams!â
âOh, no,â you muttered under your breath, instinctively shrinking into your lounge chair, hoping youâd be overlooked in the shuffle. Absolutely not happening, you thought, clutching your drink like a lifeline.
But Bucky, of course, was already grinning ear to ear. He turned to you, his eyes gleaming with excitement and mischief.Â
âYou heard him,â he said, patting your shoulder like this was some team-building exercise. âWeâre going in.â
âWhat? No!â you hissed, clutching your drink tighter as if that would save you. âI didnât sign up for a chicken fight. Iâm just here for moral support.â
Bucky laughed, standing up and stretching in that way that only he could pull off without looking ridiculous.Â
âOh, come on,â he said, flashing you that smug, challenging grin. âAfraid of a little friendly competition?â
You shook your head, digging your heels in. âNope. Not happening. And itâs not friendlyâitâs dangerous!â
âOh, donât be such a chicken.â His smirk widened, and then, with a theatrical sigh, he added, âGuess Iâll just have to find someone braver.â
Your jaw dropped. âOh, youâre really going to play that card?â
He shrugged, glancing around with feigned disappointment. âGuess so. Shame though. I thought you could handle it.â
It was the final straw. With an exasperated groan, you threw down your drink and stood up.Â
âFine! Iâll do it.â The second the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, especially as you saw Buckyâs smirk morph into full-blown satisfaction.
âPerfect,â he said, clearly thrilled with himself.
You sighed, slipping off your sheer cover-up, feeling a sudden self-consciousness as you stood there in just your swimsuit. Buckyâs gaze flicked over you with open admiration, his grin widening just a bit. You forced yourself to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, rolling your eyes at his blatant staring.
âEnjoying the view?â you deadpanned.
âOh, absolutely,â he replied without missing a beat, his eyes twinkling. âBut weâve got a fight to win.â
Before you could second-guess your decision, he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the pool. Johnny spotted the two of you and cheered, pumping his fist in the air. âYes! We got a team! Bucky and⌠Y/N, right?â
You forced a smile, giving him a thumbs-up while silently planning your escape route. But before you knew it, you were waist-deep in the water, Bucky hoisting you up with surprising ease, positioning you on his shoulders.
âOh my god, this is insane,â you muttered, gripping onto his head for balance as he adjusted to your weight. âI feel like a five-year-old at a theme park.â
âJust hold on,â he chuckled, steadying himself under you. âIâve got you.â
Your heart skipped a beat as his hands firmly held your thighs, and suddenly, this was a whole new level of intense. Focus on the fight, not the incredibly attractive man holding you in the pool, you told yourself, cheeks flaming.
Johnny waded over with his partnerâa muscular, tattooed guy named Jake who was definitely taking this way too seriously.Â
âReady to lose, Barnes?â Jake taunted, grinning up at you.
Bucky chuckled, his hands tightening on your legs just slightly. âNot a chance.â
âAlright, youâre up top!â Johnny yelled, clapping his hands. âLetâs see what youâve got!â
You barely had time to brace yourself before Jake and his partner charged at you, water splashing everywhere as they made their move. Instinctively, you shrieked, grabbing onto Buckyâs hair for dear life as the force of the impact sent you both wobbling.
âEasy on the hair!â Bucky grunted, though he was laughing, his shoulders steadying beneath you as he held his ground.
âOh, sorry!â you gasped, adjusting your grip. But before you could even catch your breath, Jakeâs partner was lunging at you again, arms flailing as he tried to knock you off balance.
âOh, no you donât!â you muttered, your competitive spirit kicking in. You threw your hands out, grabbing his wrists and pushing back with everything you had, determined to hold your ground.
âYeah, thatâs it!â Bucky cheered from below, his laughter bubbling up as he shifted to help keep you steady. âShow âem what youâve got!â
Fueled by his encouragementâand a surprising amount of adrenalineâyou leaned forward, pushing against Jakeâs partner with all your strength. The guyâs face twisted in concentration, but with one final shove, you managed to throw him off balance. He teetered, arms flailing, before finally toppling backward into the water with a massive splash.
âYes!â you shouted, punching the air triumphantly as Johnny and Jake went down in a flurry of water and defeat. âSuck on that!â
The words had barely left your mouth when reality crashed back in. You blinked, suddenly realizing that maybeâjust maybeâyouâd gotten a little too carried away. Oh god, did I really just shout that? you thought, the heat rushing to your cheeks as your triumphant grin quickly turned into a sheepish smile.
âWell, look at you,â Bucky chuckled from below, clearly amused by your victory-induced outburst. âDidnât know you had it in you.â
âYeah, well⌠neither did I,â you muttered, feeling the embarrassment settling in as you tried to slide off his shoulders, desperate to save whatever shred of dignity you had left. But as you started to wriggle down, you realized Buckyâs hands were still firmly gripping your thighs, holding you in place.
You froze, looking down at him. âUh, Bucky⌠you can, you know⌠let go now.â
He glanced up, smirking. âOh, but youâre comfortable up there. Why rush it?â
You huffed, your face going a deeper shade of red. âBecause Iâm very much done being the human flagpole, thank you very much.â
Buckyâs grin only widened as he kept his hold, clearly enjoying the situation far more than he should. âNah, I think I like you right where you are. Adds a bit of⌠height to my reputation.â
âOh my god,â you groaned, feeling your mortification level spike. âIf you donât let me down, I swear Iâllââ
âFine, fine,â he laughed, finally loosening his grip, letting you slide back into the water. But just as your feet touched down, he didnât back awayâinstead, he shifted closer, his hands still lingering on your waist, his gaze locking onto yours with a look that sent your pulse racing.
You took a half-step back, but there was no real room to escape, not with the edge of the pool just behind you and Buckyâs broad frame in front, all mischief and steady, unbreakable eye contact.Â
âYou know,â he murmured, his voice low, âyou could stay longer.â
Your breath hitched as Bucky leaned just the slightest bit closer, his hands still warm and steady on your waist, his smirk turning softer yet somehow more intense. Every nerve in your body seemed to jolt to life as he held your gaze.
You cleared your throat, attempting to find your voice amid the chaos of your thoughts.Â
âUh⌠stay longer? For what?â you managed, trying to sound casual, though your pulse was anything but.
His smirk grew, the corners of his mouth lifting in that way that was dangerously charming.Â
âFor the victory lap, of course,â he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. âAfter all, we did just crush the competition. Wouldnât want you running off too fast.â
âOh, right, a victory lap,â you muttered, trying to regain your composure but finding it difficult with his hands still lingering on your waist. âBut I think the whole pool just watched that âlapââŚâ
âThen they got a good show,â he chuckled, his voice warm with that teasing tone you were starting to know all too well. âBut the best part of winning is savoring it⌠right here.â
Your face went hot as his fingers brushed slightly against your sides, sending a little spark of energy straight up your spine.Â
âBucky,â you said, the word barely a whisper. âYouâre⌠awfully close.â
âOh, am I?â He didnât back away; instead, he raised a brow, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. âDidnât hear you complaining when you were up there, champ.â
Your cheeks went impossibly warmer. âThat was different. That was, you know⌠competitive. Strategic.â
âCompetitive and strategic?â he echoed, his grin turning almost wicked. âWell, in that caseâŚâ He shifted his hands slightly, bringing you even closer as he leaned in. âLetâs see if youâre still competitive outside the game.â
He hovered just a breath away, his gaze flickering to your lips for a moment that felt like an eternity. You felt yourself leaning in almost on instinct, your pulse racing, and for one wild, heart-stopping second, it seemed like he might actually kiss you.
But then, as if on cue, someone nearby let out a loud, obnoxious cheer, snapping both of you out of the moment. The sound jolted you, and you quickly took a step back, breaking the tension as reality crashed in.
Bucky chuckled softly, looking slightly too smug as he let his hands fall from your waist.Â
âGuess that victory lap will have to wait,â he murmured, giving you one last look that promised he wasnât quite finished with his teasing yet.
You swallowed, desperately trying to get your heart rate back to normal. âYeah, guess so.â
As the night went on, youâd lost count of how many concoction drinks had been handed to you, and at this point, your usual sense of caution was practically nonexistent. The rooftop was a haze of laughter, lights, and music, and the whole place felt like it was buzzing with energy. Any embarrassment from earlier had dissolved into pure, uninhibited confidence, each drink making you feel bolder than the last.
One minute, you were in a drinking game, cheering Bucky on as he took down a round of shots like it was nothing. The next, you found yourself in a game of truth or dare that had somehow escalated into body shots. Youâd laughed, nearly choking on your drink, when you saw Bucky sprawled out on a table, daring you with that infuriating grin to take your turn.
âOh, come on, that's not fair,â you slurred, trying to wave off the dare as he raised an eyebrow, that smug look firmly in place.
âBack out now if you canât handle it,â he teased, lying back and folding his arms behind his head, acting like he hadnât a care in the world.
The crowd cheered you on, and fueled by liquid courage, you rolled your eyes and leaned down, pressing your lips to his abs, feeling his warm skin under your touch as you took the shot in a quick, heated moment. His laughter mingled with the cheers around you, and you couldnât help but feel a rush from the attention, from his gaze, from the heat spreading across your face.
Before you knew it, you were in a round of flip cup with Bucky as your teammate, and he downed his drink, slamming his cup down with a victorious shout. He grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand straight when he finally set you down.
Somehow, you ended up on the makeshift dance floor, music thumping as the party around you roared on, the lights around the rooftop pool casting a glow over everyone. Youâd danced with other people throughout the night, but Bucky seemed to have a way of drawing you back, his energy magnetic, his laughter contagious. It was like he was everywhere you turned, keeping pace with you, matching every laugh and smirk with one of his own.
The music thumped, lights flashed, and the DJâs voice blared over the speakers, âAlright, party people! Hereâs the dealâfind someone you want to⌠get close to tonight and give them a kiss, a hug, heck, even a lick if youâre feeling bold!â
Everyone around you burst into cheers and laughter, the partyâs energy wild and reckless. By now, you were buzzing on so much liquid courage that everything felt like the best idea ever, including the fact that you were swaying against Bucky, whoâd somehow stayed by your side all night.
He leaned in, his smirk way too mischievous, and the alcohol made it feel impossibly close.Â
âDid you hear that?â he slurred, barely keeping the laughter out of his voice. âI think itâd be a shame if we ignore the DJâs request donât you?â
You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off, but he just grinned wider, leaning in until his cheek was practically pressed against yours.Â
âHold still,â he whispered, a laugh lurking in his voice.
Then, in a move so outrageous you could barely comprehend it, he dragged his tongue slowly from your chin up to your forehead.
âBucky!â you shrieked, stumbling back and half falling over yourself, laughter bubbling out of you as you clutched your face in shock. âOh my god, you did not justââ
He stepped back, looking beyond pleased with himself, the grin on his face pure, unfiltered pride.Â
âWhat? Iâm just being⌠obedient,â he slurred, raising his hands in mock innocence.
âYou are the worst!â you squealed, laughing so hard you could barely keep it together, grabbing his arm as you steadied yourself, still half in disbelief. He just chuckled, clearly reveling in your reaction as he pulled you right back into the rhythm, your laughter mixing with the cheers around you as the dance floor pulsed with music.
They cranked up the music, and suddenly, the beat was all around you, pulsing through the crowd, as if daring everyone to let loose. The energy was infectious, and you found yourself moving in sync with him, laughing as you danced together, every touch and sway between you crackling with a chemistry that had been simmering all night.
Without thinking, you stepped closer, your hands drifting to his chest, letting your fingers splay against the warm, solid muscle. Your movements grew slower, more deliberate, and his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you against him until there was barely any space left between you. His gaze dropped, glued on your lips, and you felt a shiver run through you, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours. His nose brushed yours, and you looked up to meet his gaze, seeing the same surprised intensity reflected in his eyes.
Bucky held your gaze, his breath mingling with yours, and you could feel the tension building, electric and undeniable. He was waitingâleaving the next move up to you. If you wanted him, you knew heâd let you take him.
đśJust let me know, can you be the one to hold and not let me go?đś
Heart pounding, you somehow managed to press yourself even closer, feeling the swell of your chest against him, igniting a flush across his cheeks. But it wasnât embarrassment you saw in his eyesâit was heat, a look that sent a thrill down your spine. His hand shifted, his fingers tracing along the curve of your hip, and you could feel the strength of his grip as he held you.
đśI need to know, could you be the one to call when I lose control?đś
The tension was unbearable, and as you tilted your face up, your lips brushed his in the softest, most hesitant caressâa question, an invitation. His resolve crumbled instantly. His hand slid to your waist, gripping the flesh there as his other hand threaded into your hair, guiding your head back so he could kiss you deeper, tasting you with an intensity that left you breathless. You let out a startled, breathless sound, and he responded by pulling you closer, cradling your face as if you were something precious, something he couldnât bear to let go of.
Your lips parted for him, and he kissed you with a hunger that had been building for some time. His tongue traced yours, swallowing your quiet moans, anchoring you to him as his hand kept you steady. It wasnât forceful, just⌠tender, like he was holding something priceless.
Your breaths came heavy, your cheeks flushed, but you barely noticed; all you could feel was him, his touch, his heartbeat pounding against yours, and the fire in his veins matching your own. In that moment, propriety, the crowd around you, everything else faded into oblivion. If he wanted you to take him right there, you couldnât even think of saying no.
Every nerve in your body was alive, tingling with an incredible sense of lust and need as his arms held you close. His lips pressed harder, deepening the kiss, his passion and intensity only spurring you to match it. You melted against him, completely consumed by the heat and need between you, and for those moments, it was as if nothing else existed. Oxygen became secondary; the only thing that mattered was the connection between you, growing more fervent with each second.
Finally, when the need for air became overwhelming, you both broke apart, gasping, your faces inches from each other, breaths mingling as you took each other in. His lips tingled, mirroring your own, and every beat of your heart seemed to urge you back into his embrace.
âLetâs get out of here⌠yours or mine?â Bucky stammered between breaths, his voice husky, his eyes still filled with fire. His body radiated heat, and he looked like heâd dive into the pool at any second just to cool down.
âMine,â you whispered, your voice breathless, cheeks flushed, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you held his gaze.
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
You both barely made it down the hallway before the urgency hit, the tension that had been building all night finally snapping. Buckyâs hands were everywhereâgripping your waist, pulling you against him as you fumbled for your keys, the both of you practically tripping over each other in your haste. As soon as you managed to unlock the door, you pushed it open, stumbling inside, his mouth crashing into yours before it even closed behind you.
Wetness pooled inside you, the need for him overwhelming as you pressed back against the door, his body meeting yours in a frenzy of heat and desperation. His stubble scraped against your skin, rough and deliciously manly, a reminder that he was all raw power and intensity. You loved it, the way it scratched against your cheek, adding to the thrill and making your skin tingle wherever he touched.
His lips found the side of your neck, warm and insistent as he kissed his way down, nipping softly, each touch leaving you breathless. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, exposing the full length of your neck to his hungry mouth. His hands slid up your sides, his fingers pressing in firmly, possessively, as his teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
âGod,â he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire. âYou have no idea how long Iâve wanted this.â
You could only gasp, clutching onto him as his mouth moved up to your jaw, his hands never stilling, gripping you as if he couldnât bear to let go. Bucky reached a hand up and placed it on your left breast, over the bikini top, and then brought his hand up to the back of your neck to pull you in closer to him. You undid the straps of your top, and down fell the top, exposing your naked breasts to him.
Holy shitâthis canât be real. Am I hallucinating? Is this actually happening? Waitâoh god, is he about to put my boobs in his mouth?!
Like a hungry child desperate for milk Bucky suckled on your nipple, squeezing the bottom of your breast passionately with one hand, and holding the other breast in his other hand. You looked down at him, licking, sucking, rubbing, and he looked as though he was transported to paradise.
He worked himself into a frenzy playing with your breast, until he wanted more. He lifted you up under your thighs, off the floor, and pressed your back against the wall.
Oh shit!
He kissed you again, his hand sliding down to press against you over your bikini bottom. With a quick, desperate motion, he tugged the fabric to the side, his fingers brushing bare skin, making your breath hitch.
As his hand cupped you, he began to move slowly, his fingers exploring, teasing. âDamn,â he murmured, his voice thick with surprise and satisfaction. âYouâre so wet. Is this what happens every time you watch my videos?â
âM-maybeâŚâ you stammered, cheeks heating, barely able to meet his eyes as a grin spread across his face.
His fingers slid inside you, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion sending sparks through your entire body. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he asked, âHow many times have you touched yourself thinking about me?â
You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan as he continued, each movement intensifying the heat pooling inside you.Â
âMmmhâwhy would I tell you that?â you managed, trying to sound teasing but barely able to keep your voice steady.
His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his fingers pressed deeper, his thumb brushing against you just right. âBecause I want to hear every filthy detail.â
He kissed your other nipple, the one he missed when before. Bucky always gave equal time to the breasts. Suckling on one nipple, fingering you harder and harder, you were getting more and more excited for the moment he would penetrate you.
âOh my godââ You swallowed, feeling your face heat up and you could feel yourself slightly sobering up. With a nervous laugh, you finally gave in, your voice soft but steady.
âFine⌠sometimes, late at nightâahâIâd imagine you between my legs, devouring me like your life depended on it,â you whispered, feeling your cheeks burn. âIâdâfuckâIâd think about your hands, the way theyâd feel inside me, moving exactly like thisâŚmmmh,â you gasped as his fingers pressed deeper, your own words sparking the desire between you.Â
His fingers never stopped their steady, torturous rhythm, each movement deliberate, coaxing you toward the edge with a patience that was as maddening as it was intoxicating.
âAnd? Thatâs it?â he asked, his tone thick with amusement, daring you to reveal more. His thumb brushed against you in just the right way, as if encouraging you to keep talking, to give him every last detail he was craving.
âAndâhahâIâd picture you⌠spitting in my mouth while youâre turning me on, youâd put your hand on my neck while I beg you to i dunno? reorganize my gutsâbecause youâre so big Bucky. . . I donât think youâll fit inside me.â
âOh the innocent looking ones are always the dirtiest.â Buckyâs smirk turned darker, his fingers pressing into you with a newfound intensity, his digits hooking and pressing into your most sensitive spot, causing your hips to jerk against his palm.Â
âAnd was I just as good in your imagination as I am now?â he murmured, voice low and rough, sending shivers straight down your spine.
âYes⌠yesâŚâ The words left your lips almost involuntarily, your hands gripping his shoulders as your nails dug in, grounding yourself against the overwhelming sensation. Your face twisted with pleasure, each stroke of his digits making it harder to catch your breath.Â
Buckyâs eyes darkened with a fierce satisfaction as he watched you, his smirk deepening. âBetter than you imagined?â
"Mhhm," you tried to respond, but it came out more like a needy moan, your voice barely a whisper under the intensity of his touch.
Bucky's smirk grew at the sound, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in every reaction, every tremble. "Thatâs what I thought," he murmured, his voice dark and teasing.
Bucky carried you through the open door of your bedroom, his movements purposeful, every touch sending sparks across your skin. When he reached the edge of the bed, he lowered you onto the mattress, but before letting you go, he bent down to capture your lips in a kissâa kiss that felt as intimate as it did electrifying.
You couldnât help but notice the difference; this was something he never did in his videos. Bucky never kissed anyone on the lips on screen. But here, he kissed you slowly, deeply.
His hands moved to your shoulders, firm but gentle as he guided you back into the soft downy mattress. âThere you go, baby,â he murmured, his voice warm and low. âLean back.â
He knelt down at the side of the bed. He pulled off your panties, the final barrier to your sex. He pushed your legs apart and back, and gazed at your pussy, already wet for him.
He stared at your exposed pussy for ten seconds, admiring it like it was the greatest work of art he had ever seen.
"Your pussy," he said, his lips nearly brushing your sex. "It's beautiful.â
You lifted your head up and looked at him. Your jaw was dropped and you were already starting to feel tingles up your body, even though he hadn't licked you yet. You heard his breathing get heavier and heavier, he was so excited to put his lips on your pussy.
Two large fingers of his left hand spread your lips. Two large fingers of his right hand rubbed your clit in strong circles. Each circle sends a shock wave through your body.
"You smell fantastic," he declared, and he dove his mouth right on top of your wet and stimulated clit. Up and down he licked. Up and down, his mouth clasped tight against your pussy.
"Oh," you moaned, as your eyes rolled up to the back of your head. Your armsâwith a mind of their ownâgrabbed the back of your thighs and lifted them back, presenting yourself to this man who used to be on the screen and was now bringing you to ecstasy. He'd only just started to lick you, but even so you felt ready for him to enter you and never leave.Â
As Bucky continued to eat you like youâre his last meal, each suction sending thrills through you, a sudden wave of doubt crashed over you, freezing you in place. Images flooded your mindâwomen heâd been with, all effortlessly beautiful, the kind who exuded confidence and allure. How could you compare? This had to be nothing more than another fleeting thing for him, a âfriendshipâ that would end the moment the night was over.
You tensed, your hands moving to gently push him back. âBucky⌠wait,â you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looked up from between your legs, his expression softening instantly as he met your gaze.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â he asked, his voice gentle, concerned.
âI⌠I justâŚâ You stammered, the words getting caught in your throat before you finally managed, âI donât want to be⌠one of your girls.â
Bucky blinked, taken aback, his expression shifting as if the words had struck something unexpected, almost offended.Â
âOne of my girls?â
You nodded, biting your lip as you searched for the right way to explain. âI⌠I donât do one-night stands,â you admitted, feeling vulnerable.Â
Bucky nodded slowly, his tongue pressing into his cheek as he rose to his feet. "Mhmâno, I get it... it's because of my job," he said, his tone carrying a hint of defensiveness.
You sat up, noticing the shift in his demeanor. "Are you mad?" you asked softly, uncertainty creeping into your voice.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad," he replied, though his clenched jaw suggested otherwise. "I just didn't think you'd see me that way."
"See you what way?" you pressed gently.
He met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "Like I'm some guy who just goes around collecting flings," he explained. "I thought you knew me better than that."
You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. âIt's not that I think poorly of you,â you said. âIt's just... your work makes things complicated for me. I don't want to be another notch on anyone's belt.â
He took a deep breath, his expression softening. âI understand where you're coming from,â he admitted. âBut believe me when I say that thisââ he gestured between the two of you ââis different for me.â
âHow do I know that?â you asked quietly.
He stepped closer, his eyes sincere. âBecause I don't share moments like this with just anyone,â he said. âYou think I go around kissing people like that? Off-camera, in my real life?â
Buckyâs expression shifted, his brows knitting together as he crossed his arms, clearly growing more frustrated. âI thought you knew the difference between who I am on-camera and who I am off it,â he replied, his tone clipped.
You sighed, trying to hold your ground. âBucky, youâre the one who kept teasing me to watch your videos, practically encouraging me to make it my new hobbyâhow am I supposed to ignore what you do?â
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in irritation. âBecause those videos arenât me,â he said, voice rising. âYouâre acting like everything I do there is just some extension of my personal life, but itâs a job, Y/N. I donât go around living like that off-set.â
You crossed your arms, not caring that the blanket had slipped off, leaving you bare before him.Â
âAnd Iâm supposed to just... pretend that all of it doesnât mean anything?â you shot back, feeling a twinge of vulnerability but refusing to let it show. âYou kept making those jokes, those commentsâyou have to see how confusing it is for me.â
He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. âAnd you think I just do that with everyone? That every person who walks into my life gets these... moments with me?â His gaze softened slightly as he gestured between the two of you. âIf that were the case, do you think Iâd be here, right now, trying to convince you?â
You opened your mouth to reply, but the words caught in your throat. His intensity was throwing you off balance, forcing you to question your assumptions. Youâd expected him to brush this off or laugh, not take it to heart.
He shook his head, a frustrated laugh escaping him. âYou donât get it, do you?â He looked at you, his eyes full of something you couldnât quite name. âI donât have to be here, fighting for this. I could have walked away and yet here I am.â
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat as the weight of his words settled heavily between you. The intensity of his gaze, the raw honesty in his voiceâit was all too much, too fast, and yet it tugged at something deep inside you, making it impossible to brush off. But your heart was pounding, confusion and vulnerability swirling together, and you werenât ready to face everything his words were unearthing.
âI⌠I think we should call it a night,â you said quietly, barely able to meet his gaze, the words coming out softer than you intended.
For a moment, he looked at you, his expression unreadable, and you could see him processing your response. Then, with a quiet sigh, he nodded, stepping back to give you space.
âAlright,â he replied, his voice subdued. âIf thatâs what you want.â
The room felt suddenly colder, the tension between you now tinged with a quiet ache. You could tell he was holding back more that he wanted to say, but he respected your decision, his expression guarded as he looked away.
You bit your lip, your mind racing with things you couldnât bring yourself to say, with emotions you werenât quite ready to admit.Â
âThank you⌠for understanding,â you managed, feeling the weight of your choice settle over you.
He gave a small nod, his jaw tight, before he turned toward the door.Â
âGoodnight, Y/N,â he said softly, pausing for a moment as if hoping you might change your mind, before finally leaving your apartment, the main door shutting made you flinch even though Bucky closed it softly.
The silence that followed felt heavier than you expected. The tension that had filled the room moments ago lingered, and a wave of frustration washed over you, mixing with regret and uncertainty. You took a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow, buried your face into it, and let out a muffled scream, releasing all the emotions you couldnât quite put into words. The pillow absorbed the sound, but it did nothing to ease the twist of emotions churning inside you. Finally, you pulled the pillow away, feeling just as conflicted as before, wondering if youâd made the right choice⌠or a terrible mistake.
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