#let them never have lived so they need not ever go through their past till they reach the present

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 48

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 45, part 46, part 47

Everyone forms a circle in Steve’s living room. Sitting crossed legged on the floor, waiting. Some people are missing, El wanted to stay with her dad, and Jonathan’s still avoiding Nancy at all costs. There’s a walkie in the center of the circle, open to the same channel. If El needed them, she could listen.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy are talking in the kitchen. Probably getting a little bit drunk. Coping in a way that they won’t let the rest of them. Trying to be the strong ones, when they don’t have to. Tonight’s going to be rough for all of them, they could break just once without consequence.

It’s almost time, Dustin goes to get them.

“Nance,” he hears Robin say, “he won’t come. He’s still pissed at you.”

“And me,” Steve adds.

A glass gets placed hard on the counter. “I don’t care. Before all of this, he was my friend.” He hears their steps move toward the front door and the rustle of keys. “We were there for each other when this started, we’re going to be there for each other as it ends.”

“But if he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Steve tries to reason.

“I don’t care.” There’s a slight waiver to Nancy’s voice. Dustin’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry over this. Seen any of them cry over this. “I don’t know how I can get through this without him, and I’m not going to find out.”

Dustin walks to the hall as the front door opens. Jonathan’s behind it, looking like he was in the middle of a debate with himself. He doesn’t look good. Eyes red rimmed and drooping. Clothes rumpled and looked like they were a few days old.

“Hey,” he says with a hollow voice.

“Hi,” Nancy responds.

He clears his throat. “I’m still pissed at you, but—” he trails off.

“I know.”

The clock on the wall ticks five minutes till nine. “Guys,” Dustin calls down the hall. “It’s almost time.”

Steve’s head nods, solemn. “Let’s go.”

Eddie’s there when they return to the living room, sitting on the floor. “Kids said I could join,” he says to Steve. Something unreadable in his eyes. “Is that ok?”

“Course it is,” Steve says as he sits next to Eddie. Closer than Dustin was expecting.

The circle closes and they join hands. Tangible proof that everyone is still here. Dustin is between Robin and Erica, with Steve just on the other side of Robin. Right there. Alive.

Right on cue, the fireworks start.

Dustin squeezes his eyes shut with the first boom. Sparks visualize in his mind. Red arms of flesh swinging at him. He takes the fireworks and throws it. They win, but at what cost.

Erica tightens her grip on his hand. He squeezes back to show her he’s alive.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

“Still alive,” he responds. Voice wet.

Dustin feels her shift closer to him.

He forces his eyes open, forces the visions to stop. Those of the group who have their eyes open meet his gaze. All of them in a state of fear or grief. They are all in this together. The fireworks continue to boom.

Nancy keeps looking over to Mike to make sure he’s there. Before nodding at each of them, counting heads. Jonathan’s legs are pulled up to his chest. Will keeps flinching his one arm, ready to feel the eeriness creep at his neck. Lucas moved his arm around Erica’s shoulders, holding her close.

He looks at all of them and knows that he isn’t alone. He isn’t alone in his pain, or his wishing things could be different. As Mike and Nancy look at each other again, he knows they spend so much time wishing the other wasn’t a part of this. As Max can’t hold in her cries anymore, he knows that Lucas wishes he never told her about the upside down that day.

As Steve mutters out a quiet, “I work at Scoops,” Dustin wishes he never dragged him into this.

But the past can’t change. It’s already been written. Dustin can hope and wish and pray that things played out differently. He can blame himself for the rest of his life, but it won’t change anything. Because their paths would have always converged in the same way. Always leading them here.

The radio crackles in the center of the circle, El’s voice comes through. “Almost over.”

He knows that he’ll always probably blame himself. That he will always wish that things were different. That he’ll wish the nightmares were normal ones about his teeth falling out in class or forgetting he had a test. He’ll wish that time was different, that his life never had to change like this. But maybe he can make peace with the fact that it will never change.

Maybe he can make peace that these people don’t blame him for this. They’ll wish the same as him, that they never got involved, but it was inevitable. That night when Will went missing, it changed the paths for everyone in this room. Choices were made that can’t be taken back, and they’ll regret some of them for the rest of their lives.

But, with each other, they can move forward from this as one and finally heal. The last fight has been fought. Been won. As the time moves forward, so can they. Together.

“Brace yourselves,” Dustin whispers, knowing what the big finale is like. They all wait for it to end.

He used to love fireworks. Would beg his mom to bring him to the fair every year just so he could see him. And when he was old enough, he would bike there with the party and just stand there in awe. The perfect mix of science, his greatest love, making art in the sky.

As the last boom of the night rings through the air, Dustin hopes he can enjoy it again someday. He promises himself that one day, he will.

No one moves for a few minutes after they end. Sitting still to calm the beatings of their hearts. They made it through.

Almost in synchrony, they all start to move. Standing up, wiping the tears from their eyes. Returning to normal. Finding themselves again.

“Steve?” Eddie asks softly after Steve doesn’t move. Sitting there rigid.

He nods. “I’m ok.” He straightens his back, revealing the wet trail of tears down his cheeks. “You ready?” he asks Robin.

“Yeah.”

She gets up first, holding out her hand for him. They go in two different directions. Robin getting a bag from the hallway, while Steve grabs a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet and a box of matches.

Dustin follows them as they go outside. “What are you guys doing?”

Steve places the bottle of alcohol, what looks like expensive tequila, next to the fire pit. “After that night, we made a pact. A year from then, we burn our uniforms.”

“To prove that we made it out,” Robin continues, her voice sounding dry. “To prove that we never have to go back.”

She hands Steve the bag and he dumps the uniforms into the fire pit. The blood and sweat soaked uniforms ready to be set ablaze.

Steve unscrews the tequila and pours it over them, wasting more than he probably should.

“You want to do the honors,” he asks Robin, handing her the box of matches.

She takes it with shaky hands, striking the match and tossing it into the pit. The fire starts instantly.

Robin sobs as she falls into Steve. His cries are silent as he wraps her in a hug. Holding each other as they watch the outfit from the worst night of their lives burn to ash. Dustin walks back inside, letting them have this moment to themselves.

Eddie is watching from the sliding doors. “What are they burning?”

“Their Scoops uniforms, they were wearing them when it all went down.”

Nancy walks up to the door. “I never knew what happened to them that night, every time I try to ask, they avoid answering it.”

She looks at Dustin for answers he doesn’t even know the whole of. “I think they were tortured. When we went into that bunker, we got separated. They held the door closed so me and Erica could escape into the vent. After we rescued them, Steve’s face was beaten up and they were tied to chairs, and drugged. I never got any confirmation, but I knew.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes out. Still staring out the glass. His arms held close to his chest.

“Do you remember their faces when we went into that vent,” Erica asks from behind them. “They were scared, but they still chose to save us.”

Dustin turns, seeing the group that had formed behind him. All watching the fire outside. He nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

“There are so many things from that night that I won’t forget,” Max speaks up.

“There are so many things from the last four years that I won’t forget,” Mike adds.

Will reaches to grab his hand. “Yeah.”

“We should go back to the living room,” Nancy says. “So we’re not just staring at them.”

Eddie is the last to leave the room, still staring at them through the door.

“He’s been acting weird all week," he explains as Dustin hangs back. “I knew it had to be something bad, I just didn’t imagine that.”

“No one wants to imagine half the things that we’ve been through.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

They rejoin the group in the living room. Jonathan grabs his keys and fills his car with the people who want to go home. Him and Nancy talking before he leaves. She hangs around, making sure everyone left is taken care of.

Eddie just sits on the couch, looking out of place. But he’s waiting for something, Dustin can tell.

“Hey,” Mike nudges Dustin’s shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re going over to my house for the night. Just in case you didn’t want to go home.”

Dustin thinks about it. He was going to see if he could stay the night here. Be close to Steve. But he might be ok. And by not being here, Steve could worry about just himself for a night. Not Dustin as well.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Eventually, Steve and Robin come back inside. Robin nods at Nancy before climbing the stairs up to Steve’s room. Steve and Eddie share a look when they pass. He stops and places a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug, before following Robin up the stairs.

Before Eddie can get to his room, Dustin stops him. “I’m going over to Mike’s, call me if anything happens.”

Eddie nods. “I got them, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

Nancy waits by the door. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin follow her out to the car. They drive to the house is quiet. Everyone is still reeling from tonight.

Jonathan’s car is parked out on the street when they get there. Will, Max, and Erica coming out with their bags.

“You could stay too, you know,” Nancy says to Jonathan. “No one should be alone tonight.”

“I thought about it, but I think it’s better if I go home.”

Nancy nods, accepting.

“See you around, Nance,” he says before getting back in his car.

“You could stay in the basement with us,” Mike offers, “if you need to.”

Nancy nods again, blinking away the tears in her eyes. Following them inside.

The basement floor is covered in blankets and pillows. Everyone finding a spot to lie down comfortably. Dustin stares at the ceiling, waiting for the tired fall of his eyes. So he can wake up tomorrow and feel better. Feel less like pure dread.

Slowly, he can hear the people around him start to fall asleep. Tomorrow will be better than today, he repeats in his mind. Peaceful sleep taking over.

the notes you guys left on my last post literally made my day, you have no idea. hugs for all of you.

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[medicinemane]

.

[landossnorriss]

i see you | ln x she.

Pairing: lando x she.

Summary: a new voice appears on the radio to get lando through the end of the hungary race. part 2 here.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: we've taken some liberties on whose allowed on the team radio ok? i'm in mourning. this is also my first time writing for f1 or lando so >.>

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

the small crackle in his ear was a sure sign that someone was about to patronise him again. for years, for years he had bled for mclaren. he'd turned down calls from horner and the men in red, he'd turned his nose to them every single time and now he finally had a chance to put a closer dent in his gap on the world championship and they just wanted him to give it up. it wasn't fair, oscar couldn't even keep up he was the fastes-

"lan?" the quiet voice that appeared in his ear shocked him, his frown forming in his helmet.

"love? now they're using you to get to me?" he scoffed at the thought, his foot on the throttle a little harder as he made his way around turn 11. fuck the team orders, they couldn't do this to him.

for her part, his girl could feel the guilt eating at her chest. "i think so." she'd wanted to smack will when he had looked at her pleadingly from the garage. "but you tell me right now, if you want this win and i'll fight will for the radio for the rest of the race, i'll be out of here so quick and i'll cut them off, give you the time you need." she offered and lando knew she meant it. his girl was quiet, preferred to stay out of the lime light and would always pick his jolly over the flash cars he had, but when it came down to it she was scrappy.

a small smile appeared on the racers face as he thought about the sight, honestly he hoped she managed to trip will and cause some momentary damage. noting he had gone quiet she let her head drop a little, eyes closing as she tried to imagine was going through his head. "my love...can you look at him in the morning if you don't let him past now?" she asked quietly, ignoring the glares that were surrounding her in the pit wall.

"it's a win baby, i need to prove that i can win on my own after miami and i need...i need those points for the championship."

"so drive, put your throttle down lan, drive and don't stop till the flag if you can live with being that man, but i know you and i love you and i'll love you regardless of what you chose right now but i also know you and this won't be winning on your own merit, this will haunt you my love and he'd do it for you, you know he'd do it for you."

lando paused again, swallowing as he rounded the corner. "you'd love me even if i took the win?"

"even then." and now she was pretty sure will was going to murder her if she ever surrendered this radio, at the very least, andreas was never letting her back in the garage.

"you'll love me more if i give osc the spot back?" he hated how unsure his voice sounded as he asked the question and her heart broke for him over how much she knew he would tare into himself later.

"no lando, my love for you isn't based on what you do in that car, not ever, its the man that comes home to me i care about." chewing on her lip she let her gaze flicker to the monitors. "the pit lane straight is coming up..." the comment hung in the air between them and she watched as it happened, 6 seconds, 5.3 seconds, 4 seconds - lando was letting him past.

"you're my winner lando." she whispered softly into the radio, silently wiping the tear that fell at his act. the look of relief around the pit wall was enough to make her guilt grow even more, at what they had cost lando today, what they had made her do. if they could just get their damn strategies right he wouldn't have been put in this position in the first place, he'd had been free to race as he came out behind oscar but instead she would piece together the pieces they threatened to break again as she took care of him tonight.

"i love you so much." lando urged as he watched oscar fly past him, his heart stopping for a moment before his foot found the throttle again. he didn't want to hear wills voice again, not right now and they could make it through two more laps without his help anyway. "will you stay with me for the rest of the race?" he asked because wins and races could come and go so long as he had her.

her eyes flickered to andreas on the wall from where she knew he was listening, watching as he nodded. "confirmed norris, i'm with you till the end." they didn't say much as he finished his race but she kept the line open with him. if the rest of the world would have something to say about the lovers simply existing together for the next two minutes then let them, she was the only one who saw him sometimes she was sure, the only one who knew what he had just done would be doing to him inside.

the chequered flag came and she checked the screens once more before making the call. "that's p2 baby, p2, you know what to do from here." sliding from her chair she didn't bother to take the head set off as she made her way through the garage and out through the pit lane to where she knew lando would soon be parking. she was easy to spot with the bright yellow merch she wore, forever a lando girl over mclaren and her eyes shiny as she watched her man move to congratulate oscar. it left a bitter taste in her mouth, that the win would be tainted by shitty team orders but she'd get to celebrating with oscar later once she knew her driver was ok.

she continued to chew at her lip as lando removed his helmet, the green eyes she knew so well looking around for her and she let her smile return at the way his shoulder visibly relaxed at the sight of her. lando was slow to move, not wanting to risk any more hate that he already knew he was going to get but there was only one thing he wanted right now. the hands he felt cupping his face, an instant sanctuary for the male. "i see you lan." the soft words that meant more to him than even love would.

leaning forward lando let the gap between them close, his lips find hers softly for a moment. normally she would pull away and scald him, knowing just how many cameras were in this pit lane to capture the moment but he needed her more now than she needed to shrink into the shadows. "i'm so damn proud of you." she whispered against his lips, fingers finding the damp curls at the back of his head and her chest settling now that she could hold him once more.

he'd never been as good with words as she had, always seemingly saying the same thing but he wanted to try, for her. "you mean more to me than all this you know?" he could already hear the people calling his name for media duties and as tempting as it was to just face the fines, grab his girl and vanish, lando knew that it would be better for the team if he saved them face. all the blood he'd lost for them still had to count for something right? taking a final second to lock in her face, lando lent forward for a final singular kiss. "i'll see you in my drivers room." he promised before he stepped away.

with a small nod she moved back, eyes filled with tears once more as he stepped up to take the mike from nico and he demonstrated once more why he was the man she adored. racing could continue to test him all it wanted, but she would be the anchor whilst he weathered any storm for as long as he needed her.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

omg this just popped into my head and i desperately need it like i literally will not be able to stop thinking about it about it till it is written but, ethan landry x reader fic based on gods and monsters by lana del rey oml like it would be phenomenal… i don’t want it to incorporate the lyrics i just want it based on the idea of the song? but not about them being actual gods and monsters like to her ethan is a god. especially the lyrics “this is heaven, what i truly want. it’s innocence lost.”. basically reader is super innocent and ethan sees her as an angel and feels the need to ruin her and she sees him as a god and is obsessed with him. super smutty and him praising her and talking her through it. i know this was a lot but i am obsessed with your writing and i think if you wrote this it would be amazing, but only if you’re comfortable 🫶☺️

HI! I hope this was what you wanted. 💕

Gods & Monsters - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You're obsessed with Ethan and he's obsessed with you, but he'd dying to destroy your innocence.

Contains: Fluff-ish moments, Smut - Oral(m and f receiving), fingering, p in v, riding, rough-ish sex. Reader isn't a virgin but doesn't have a lot of experience.

A/N: This was one of the fics I lost the other day, and I'm so sad because I liked what I'd already written before. BUT I was determined to get this done lmao

You didn’t expect to fall so hard for Ethan Landry. What started as a small crush on one of your friends led to full-blown infatuation. Once you found yourself hanging off every word that slipped past his perfect lips, always making sure you were beside him whenever you’d go out with your friends, and even letting your grades slip a little just so you’d have the excuse to be alone with him to study, you realized how fucked you were. You didn’t care, though, because he’s everything you wanted.

He was tall, and very attractive. But what really sucked you in was the way he lit up whenever he talked to you about the things he was passionate about. The way his voice sounded first thing in the morning when you’d all spent the night at Tara’s. The way he ignored any other girls that looked in his direction, at least when he was with you.

Ethan was just as caught up in you as you were with him. The first night you walked into Tara’s, he could’ve sworn you were literally glowing. He thought you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen, and once he talked to you and realized how sweet you were, he knew he had to make you his. He found himself daydreaming about taking you on dates, holding your hand, kissing you. But sometimes, his thoughts weren’t so innocent.

He knew you weren’t a virgin, but after a drunken game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ turned sexual, he learned that there were a lot of things you hadn’t done. He wanted to be the first, and hopefully only person you’d do those things with. He even went as far as wondering how you’d sound, the faces you’d make, how much of him you could take in your mouth before it was too much. He felt a little guilty from time to time for thinking about you in that way, because you were just so sweet. But the desire to destroy your innocence just kept getting stronger, no matter how hard he’d try to push those thoughts about you to the side.

The two of you shamelessly flirted with each other, so much that the rest of your friends thought there was something more going on than there was. It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to pull you into his lap whenever there wasn’t an empty seat available beside him, or for the two of you to be so caught up in your own conversations that you’d forget your friends were even there. He wanted to take things to the next level, but he’d always get nervous and shut down whenever he got close to kissing you.

You lived down the hall from Tara, which made it so convenient for you and Ethan’s study sessions. Whenever you had plans with your friends, Ethan would come to your apartment to study with you before. With exams coming up, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about how he needed to get over his nerves and finally make a move. He knew he’d still get to see you, but he wouldn’t have the excuse to spend alone time with you.

As Ethan sat on your bed, his fingers moving against his keyboard, you started to get bored. He kept peaking over his laptop screen to see you stretched out on your stomach at the foot of your bed, scrolling through your phone.

“That’s not homework,” he said, playfully scolding you as you sat up to look at him.

“If I have to keep looking at anything school related, I’m going to go crazy.”

“We still have over an hour before we have to go to Tara’s. What would you like to do?” He asked, closing his computer to give you his attention.

“We could watch a funny movie. I need to laugh,” you suggested, as he shook his head.

“We don’t have enough time for that…but,” he said, sitting his laptop on the bed beside him. “I know how to make you laugh.”

He smirked as he crawled closer to you. You knew what was coming, the slight look of panic in your eyes making him chuckle before his fingers dug into your sides.

“Ethan,” you whined, trying to grab at his hands to pull them off you. You were starting to tear up from laughing, and your breathing was getting heavier. “Stop it! You’re going to make me fall off the bed!”

“I’d never let that happen,” he said, his fingers not letting up.

“Seriously, Ethan!” You were starting to wheeze from laughing so hard, so he finally pulled his hands away. You placed one of your hands on your chest as you tried to take deep breaths, as Ethan settled back into the spot he was in before on your bed. “That was so mean.”

“I think it’s funny that you’ve never tried to get me back,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Is it because I’m stronger than you?”

“Knowing you, you’d have me pinned to the bed so I wouldn’t be able to move while you tickled me.”

Ethan got a little caught up in the idea of that. He wanted to have you pinned to the bed, but not to tickle you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you were moving closer to him, the only thing bringing him back into the moment was when your fingertips started to move against his sides.

“Hey!” he said through his laughter as he grabbed at your hands. You weren’t going to give up easily, so you moved to straddle him, pulling your hands away every time he reached for them. “Please, you gotta stop!”

“No,” you said, your hands moving further up his ribs, making him laugh even harder. He knew it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but the way your ass was rubbing against him as you moved was making him hard.

“Stop!” he yelled, finally grabbing your hands. Your face dropped as you looked at him, and he immediately felt guilty for yelling at you like that. “I’m sorry…you’re just,” he said, letting out a gasp once you started to move off him, your eyes going wide once you felt how hard he was underneath you. “That. You’re making me hard.”

“Oh,” you softly said, staring at the bulge in his jeans. “Is it a bad thing that I did?”

“No…I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he sighed, before he sat up. “Does it make you uncomfortable that you do that to me?”

He watched your cheeks turn pink at his question. This wasn’t how he planned on making his move, but the door was wide open for him to have the conversation.

“No,” you said, “have I made you hard before?”

“I get hard just thinking about you,” he confessed, the sexual tension in the room getting stronger as each second passed.

You were starting to get nervous as you sat there. You didn’t have the most experience in the world, your previous sexual encounters with your ex mainly consisted of you just laying there and waiting until he was done, so you didn’t know how to give a blow job. But you wanted to learn. You wanted Ethan to teach you.

“Can I…suck it?” you asked, his eyes growing wide. “Sorry, stupid question.”

“No, it’s not stupid…do you want me to tell you how to do it?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded. “Okay, uh, I’ll just get these off.”

He slid off the side of your bed and unbuttoned his jeans before shimmying them down his legs. You gawked as you saw the tent in his boxers, wondering if you were in over your head for even thinking you could do this.

“I hate to ask this…” no he didn’t. “But would you want to get on the floor? It’d be easier for you.” You nodded as you slid off the side of the bed and stood in front of him. “Wait,” he said, once you started to drop to your knees. You stood back up to face him, as he leaned in to kiss you. You needily kissed him back, your hands on his cheeks as he started to rub your hips. Once you pulled back, he smiled at you. “You don’t feel like you have to do this, right?”

“No, I want to do this,” you said, looking at him as you sank onto the floor.

“Fuck…eye contact like that is good,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I guess I’ll just slide these down.”

His fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers as he slid them down his thighs, his cock springing free right in front of your face. He let out a sweet laugh once he noticed how wide your eyes got.

“Do I just put it in my mouth?” you asked, as he groaned at how innocent you were.

“Let’s start with just touching it,” he suggested, as you nodded and reached your hand up. “Wrap your hand around it…just like that, baby,” he said, taking a deep breath as he tried to contain himself. “Now move your hand back and forth, but not too fast.”

You did as he said, your eyes glancing between his and his cock. You weren’t sure if you were good at what you were doing, but he was breathing heavier the longer you did it.

“Do you want to try to put it in your mouth?” he asked, as you nodded and leaned forward. “How about you just do what you think is right and I’ll tell you if it’s bad or good?”

“Okay,” you shyly said, hoping that you would get it right.

Ethan’s biggest fantasy was coming to fruition. His head was spinning as you took the head of his cock in your mouth, your hand still stroking him. Even though you weren’t a virgin, he still felt like he was devirginizing you, at least in this way.

“That’s perfect,” he said, his eyes looking into yours as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Try to take a little more.”

You did as he said, easing a little more of him into your mouth. His hand tangled in your hair, his grip loose. The last thing he wanted was to push you too far and make you want to stop when you’d just started. He was about to ask you for more, when you boldly took as much of him as you could in your mouth, to the point that you were gagging around him. You quickly pulled your head back, refusing to make eye contact like you’d just done something wrong.

“Hey,” Ethan said, his hand that was in your hair moved to your chin. He tilted your head so you’d look at him, your eyes already watery from the gagging. “If you want to keep going, there’s a little tip that helps with that.”

He showed you the thumb trick, and talked to you about bobbing your head too, along with moving your hand. Once you felt like you had a better understanding of what you needed to do, you leaned forward, taking just as much of him in your mouth as you did before.

You were still gagging a little, but not as bad as you did the first time. Your mouth kept getting more and more wet, the feeling making Ethan groan. His hand snaked back in your hair as he fought the urge to thrust in your mouth.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, “Twist your hand a little…oh fuck.”

You were catching on quickly, and Ethan was so proud of you. Your eyes stayed on his, even when tears started to slip past your lower lash line. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I try something?” he asked, his eyes pleading with yours. You hummed around him to let him know he could, because the last thing you wanted to do was pull him out of your mouth.

He started to thrust past your lips as you gagged around him, your free hand gripping your thumb as hard as you could. Big, fat teardrops were flowing down your cheeks, but you were loving it. His eyes were fluttering as his jaw dropped open, but he still stayed focused on you, not wanting any of this to be too much.

“I’m gonna cum,” he said, his voice a little raspy from his panting. “Can I cum in your mouth?”

You hummed around him again to respond, the vibrations around his cock sending him over the edge as his hand tensed up in your hair, tugging on it harder than he wanted to. You just kept moaning around him, so turned on as his salty cum coated your tastebuds. He gave a few more weak thrusts as his hand in your hair relaxed before he slowly slid out of your mouth.

“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching down to take your hand. He helped you to your feet before wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“Yeah, I liked that,” you said, your voice raw from all the gagging. “Can we do it again?”

“We can do anything you want to,” he said, placing his hands on your hips to hold you close. “But right now, can I eat you out?”

“Oh, Um,” you mumbled, your cheeks getting rosy at the idea. “You want to do that?”

“I’m not your ex,” he said, smirking at you. “I bet he never made you cum.”

“He didn’t,” you sighed, as Ethan backed you towards the bed.

“I will,” he said, as he started to lift your shirt.

Ethan got you out of your jeans and shirt, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He hovered over you, his mouth moving against your neck as his hand roamed your body. You were squirming as you tried to patient, but it was getting harder for you, especially when his hand reached in between your thighs and rubbed you over your panties.

“So wet,” he mumbled against your neck, his breath giving you goosebumps. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

He pulled his hand away as he sat up, grabbing your hands for you to sit up, too. His hands reached around you to unhook your bra, his mouth not leaving your neck as he slid the straps down your arms and threw it to the other side of the room.

“We have to go to Tara’s soon,” you reminded him, as he pulled away and started to laugh.

“We’re probably going to be late.”

He leaned down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You started to whimper as he sucked, pulling off it with a soft pop before he moved to the other side.

Once his lips trailed further down your body, you were trying so hard to be in the moment, but your mind started to wander. You practically worshiped the ground Ethan walked on, and all he wanted in that moment was you, but you still didn’t know if this was going to anything more than a friends with benefits situation, or if he wanted to be with you like you wanted to be with him.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling you from your thoughts as he started to kiss your inner thighs.

“Mmm, it’s nothing,” you moaned once he started to suck your flesh into his mouth.

He pulled away to look at you, “No, tell me.”

You sighed in frustration, both from him stopping and you really didn’t want to pour your heart out to him in that moment. But he just kept staring at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I’ve…fuck,” you sighed, taking a deep breath. “I want this…but I need to know how you feel about me.”

He smiled at you as your blush spread across your cheeks. “You haven’t realized that I’m in love with you yet?”

“In love with me?” you asked, as he slid your panties down your legs.

“Mhm, I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he said, before he buried his head between your thighs.

“Shit,” you gasped, as his tongue licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit.

He started to focus on your clit, giving all the attention to your needy bundle of nerves. You looked down to see that he was watching you, taking in all the little faces you were making. He was alternating between swirling and lightly sucking, the stimulation making your entire body feel hot.

He slid one of his fingers inside of you, your legs feeling shaky as he moved it against the spot inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed. He watched you start to fall apart over just one finger, and once he added another one, you were a whimpering mess. He licked your clit a few more times before he pulled away to talk to you, his fingers still moving.

“You never told me how you feel about me,” he said, curving his fingers to apply more pressure.   

“Unfff, fuck,” you whined, your hands tightly gripping the comforter underneath you.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop,��� he playfully said, smirking as his fingers brought you closer to the edge.

Your brain was turning to mush, but you pulled yourself together for a second, not wanting him to stop. “I’m in love with you, too.”

He leaned back down to your clit, sucking on it a little harder than he had before. Your whines got louder as the euphoric feeling washed over you, his free hand holding down your bucking hips. It felt so good that your eyes started to water, your entire body tingling as he worked you through it.

Just as you came down from your high, you heard a knock coming from your front door. You were too fucked out from Ethan’s fingers to even care, as he started to laugh.

“I bet that’s Tara,” he said, as he laid down beside you. “We’re late.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, lazily sliding your naked body off the side of your bed, landing on your feet.

You grabbed your robe and put it on, your legs still wobbly as you made your way to the front door. You looked out the peephole to see Tara and Mindy.

“Hey,” Tara said once you opened the door, her smile dropping once she noticed you weren’t dressed. “Are you still coming over?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” you said, noticing both of them staring at something. “What?”

“Is Ethan here?” Mindy asked, a smirk playing on her lips as she realized what was going on.

“Yeah, we’ll both be over in a few,” you said, still not understanding what they were looking at.

“Okay…you might want to cover that up before you come over,” Mindy said, gesturing to your neck as Tara started to giggle.

You bit your bottom lip as the embarrassment hit, realizing that Ethan sucking on your neck earlier must’ve left a hickey.

“No, you know what? You guys finish whatever ‘studying’ you’re doing, then come over. We’re sorry for interrupting,” Tara said, fighting off her laughter as she and Mindy walked down the hall to her apartment.

You sighed as you closed the door, knowing that you and Ethan were definitely going to be grilled once you did go to Tara’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me you put this on my neck?” you said, glancing at it in the mirror after you walked back in your room.

“Are you embarrassed that they know you’re mine?” he questioned, walking up behind you. He rested his head against your shoulder, but your mind was in a haze once you felt his hard cock pressing against you.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to be yours? I’m definitely not embarrassed,” you said, making him laugh as he moved your hair to the side the place more kisses to your neck.

“Well, I did hear them say we should finish studying,” he said, as his hand reached over to untie your robe. “I’m not done studying you yet.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, when his hand started to massage one of your breasts, gently pinching at your nipple. Your back leaned against his chest as you relaxed into his touches, your breathing getting heavier as his hand trailed lower. “Can I be on top?”

“For a little bit, yeah,” he mumbled against you as his fingers rubbed across your still-soaked pussy. “Is that okay?”

“Mhm.”

You had so many things you wanted to do with Ethan, so many things you hadn’t experienced yet. Any nerves you had about your inexperience faded, your confidence showing as you got on top to straddle him.

“Take your time, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, as you grabbed his cock that was resting against his lower stomach. You lined him up with your entrance and started to sink down on him. “So tight,” he groaned, as you tried to get used to the stretched-out feeling. He wasn’t all the way in and you already felt so full.

“Mmm,” you moaned once you’d taken all of him, your ass meeting the top of his thighs.

You took a minute, trying to adjust your legs to the most comfortable position as his hands ran up your sides. Once you started to bounce on him, his hands went to your hips to help you move. Your bottom lip went in between your teeth as you held eye contact with him. Once he started to thrust up into you, your hands went to your breasts, massaging them as he helped your hips meet his.

He loved having you on top, and he loved watching the way your tits bounced, but he needed to be in control. He needed to push your limits a little until you were falling apart underneath him. He held your hips in place a few seconds before he flipped you over, a squeal flying out of your mouth. He smirked down at you before he grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you with his hands.

“Stop me if anything hurts, okay?” he said, as you smiled and nodded. He slid back inside of you, his hands right below the back of your knees as he started to pound into you.

Your mouth fell open as he fucked you, every sound that built up in your throat flying out. He was so deep, but the tip of his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust.

“That feel good?” he asked, pushing your legs closer to you. You babbled in response, the new angle making him go even deeper. “Look at you, so cock drunk, so perfect.”

All you could do was whimper as you felt yourself getting close. You were fighting to keep your fluttering eyes open, because you didn’t want to miss a single second of watching him. The beautiful boy that you’d fallen so hard for had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead that his curls were starting to stick to, his bottom lip was in between his teeth. You felt so submissive as you just laid there and took it. You were okay with him using you in whatever way he wanted, because you’d do anything for him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked, as he felt your walls start to flutter.

“Yes!” you cried out, your hands shakily gripping the comforter again as the wave crashed into you so hard your vision got fuzzy. You kept trying to talk as he fucked you through it, his teeth showing as he smiled at your babbles.

“I’m almost there, baby. Can you take it a little longer?” he asked as your eyes peeled open to look at him.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you moaned, as he sped up, chasing his orgasm.

Your body kept jolting like little aftershocks from the intensity of your own orgasm, and you were feeling a little overstimulated, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. He was going so fast and so deep as he panted, mumbling your name as his head started to roll back.

“Gonna…fuck. Cum,” he said, pulling his cock out and shooting his release all over your tummy. He caught his breath as he looked at you through his hooded eyes. You smiled at him as he moved to lay on the bed beside you.

“I think we need to shower,” you said, glancing down at his cum on you. “I don’t really have anything that has a manly scent, though.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get to smell like you,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your arm.

After your shower with Ethan, you concealed the giant purple mark on your neck and took the walk of shame over to Tara’s. Your friends got quiet as you walked in, glancing back and forth between you and Ethan.

“Sooo,” Chad said, noticing Ethan’s wet hair, “Did you two finally realize that you’re meant to be together?”

“Oh yeah,” Ethan said, as Chad walked over to dap him up.

“It’s about time. It was getting exhausting to watch the two of you,” Mindy said, as Tara nodded in agreement.

You, Ethan and Chad walked over to sit on the couch as Mindy pushed play on the movie she was waiting to start until you got there. After a few minutes, Chad looked over to Ethan.

“Dude, this is a little blunt, but you smell so good right now.”

You started to giggle as Ethan laughed and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close.

“He’s right, you do smell good.”

[hyypnotix-writes]

Straight. Straight straight straight.

~ I really don’t know what this is. I couldn’t sleep and so, here we are. I’ve never written anything other than essays for uni before so ..this could go down like a lead balloon! we’ll see, lemme know! :) ~

~ it’s like ..10k words? because I really couldn’t sleep. so, it’s a long one ..if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ I don’t think it needs any content warnings, but please tell me if there should be! there’s some swearing, if that’s off putting to you.. ~

~ it takes a tiny while for A to show up, and she’s never explicitly named..but she is there, it is her ~

~ I’m talking myself out of posting, but this is too long to scrap now, sorry ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

________________

The club is a disgusting little place to be. Buried right in the centre of town, with drinks so extortionately expensive, they make even the cost of your London’s monthly rent, look a little reasonable. The music blares inside your head, the strobe lighting messes with your vision, and the smell of horny sweaty bodies is an assault on the nostrils. It’s your least favourite place on earth to be.

It’s somewhere you’d managed to avoid being, for all of your early twenties. You’ve had no reason to go to a club late at night. Not when you’ve had a boyfriend for the past 5 years to go home to. That dirty little desire to get drunk, and hookup with an attractive stranger, took a nice long hibernation.

For you.

Turns out, your ever-loving, ever-caring, fuckwit of an ex-boyfriend, still managed to find the time to go to clubs, and hookup with strangers in between spending nights with you. You really thought he was out working till the early hours of the morning, busy making a living for your future together? What an idiot you were.

So, you’re back in a nightclub, at the behest of some of your single friends, for the first time in over half a decade, borderline drunk out of your mind.

It’s still a comfortable level of tipsiness at the moment, you’d argue, despite stumbling a little on your way back towards the bar. You can easily identify the song that’s being blasted, you’ve been able to order more drinks independently without being refused service. Your inhibitions are long gone, but you’re still able to think clearly, and you’re ready to find someone to go home with.

Your friends are all dotted around the room getting off with men of varying levels of attractiveness. None of them have impressed you so far, you’re not so desperate for company that you’re willing to let your own standards drop tonight. You’re happy to wait for the best-looking man in the room. Looking around the room to scope the talent on offer, however, maybe you do need to lower your standards a little bit.

You approach the bar again, and order a shot of tequila for yourself. A friendly little liquid that’s had previous success with you, for getting you to sleep with just about anything.

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you do not know. It’s rather ballsy of her, almost rude, but she holds out her card to pay, before you can get too irritated with her request.

“Gracias.” You offer, using your exceptional detective skills to work out the woman’s nationality.

“¿Hablas español?” She checks, as she leans next to you, and you wag a dismissive, drunken finger in front of her face as you shake your head.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you tell her, “only English. GCSE level German.”

She smirks, watching you, and you narrow your eyes at her, tapping the bar as you await your drink.

You’re handed your shot, with a lime wedge and some salt, and you nod in thanks, to the woman who bought it for you. You don’t wait for her to go first, you’re in a bit of a rush here. All the men in the room are getting uglier by the second, you need to act fast, before you see the light too clearly.

You lick your hand and pour on the salt, the woman watching you closely as you do. She doesn’t go through the motions at all for her own drink, she focuses solely on you, gently biting at her bottom lip.

You lick the salt, down the shot, and she holds the lime wedge in between her fingers for you to bite. You don’t question it. Not until you sink your teeth into the lime, your eyes meet over it, and time stand still.

She has very beautiful eyes. A mysterious looking hazel. They flicker over you as you suck the citrus juice, and you can see the crinkles in the corners of them as she smiles at you. It’s weirdly intimate, unnervingly so.

You pull away, wiping the juice from your chin as you point to her own glass for her to follow suit. You find yourself watching her as she does the same routine, but you don’t hold out the fruit for her, the way she did for you. It was a strange custom, one that’s already playing on a loop in your head.

“Can I get you another?” She offers, and you find yourself torn.

You’re not here for a woman, you’ve never been with one. You’ve kissed your girlfriends once or twice when you were younger, mainly as a gross way of attracting boys. It’s not something you thought too deeply about, it wasn’t exactly a lightbulb moment for you. There was never any secret yearning for any of your friends afterwards. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

The woman’s eyes seem to pierce through your soul, as she waits for your answer, like she can see something in you that you can’t. It draws you in, but you hold yourself back.

“I’m straight.” You tell her, and she smirks at you again.

“Congratulations! I didn’t ask,” she points out, “but thanks for letting me know.”

You frown a little as she turns her attention back to the bartender and orders two more shots for the pair of you. She doesn’t seem put off by your sexuality claim at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t believe you, and you’re not too sure you appreciate her cockiness about it.

In fairness, maybe you’re the one being cocky. She doesn’t have a badge on her saying she’s a lesbian, there’s no rainbow floating above her head. She’s not a stereotypical lesbian, not in the way that your little sister is. Maybe she’s just being friendly, and you’re projecting, because you’re drunk and full of yourself.

“Sorry,” you start, leaning into her so she can hear you above the music, and she pushes the shot towards you, “I just thought ..maybe you were coming on to me.”

“That’s very wishful thinking from you.” She says simply, turning her head slightly to face you. She’s exceptionally close, and your eyes instantly trail to her lips. Time’s stood still again.

She has nice lips, very nice lips. They’d probably taste very nice..

You have to pull yourself away.

“Gracias.” You say again, gesturing to the glass in front of you with a frown. You reach for the salt, but before you can lick your hand, she raises it to her own mouth to wet it for you. You really don’t know what to make of her. It’s very gross, it’s very rude ..it’s very sexy.

There’s a confidence in her, that has you questioning things. The warmth of her tongue sends goosebumps right up your arm. Which, she can undoubtedly see, as you don’t have long sleeves and she’s smirking at you again. You don’t appreciate her smug little attitude. Anyone would have a physical reaction to being licked by a stranger, she has no business being arrogant about it.

You must have been stuck in place for too long, as she pours the salt onto your hand on your behalf too.

You don’t like being outdone. If she wants to play it cocky, you can match her for it. You grab the lime wedge and indicate for her to open her mouth. It catches her a little off guard, which you feel a sense of pride in, but she doesn’t back down from your challenge. She welcomes your newfound confidence, with that same little smirk from before.

You place the lime, skin-side back, in between her teeth and you lick the salt from your hand with unwavering eye contact. You down the shot, and you pull her in carefully by her neck.

Your lips brush against hers, ever so slightly, as you bite the lime between her teeth and remove it in your own. It’s a deliberate move from you, maybe you’re feeling messy tonight. You watch as she raises her fingers to her lips, and you wipe the juice again with the back of your hand. You give her a nod with another little ‘gracias’, before heading away from the bar without looking back at her.

You’re stuck on a carousel of men once you return to the centre of the club. They are all admittedly, far better looking than they were before your little trip to get drinks, but there’s still no one drawing your eye. None of them like that cocky little woman at the bar.

She wasn’t really little, she’s quite tall, actually. Had a couple inches on you, that’s for sure, and you’re not short. She was impressively tall, she had nice posture. She didn’t slouch or look uncomfortable. She was just tall, and beautiful, with that endearing little smirk on her pretty little fa— what are you doing?

You need to find yourself a man, and quick.

You’ve trapped yourself between another one and a wall, only a few minutes later, and it feels like a mistake. His hands are on your hips, his mouth is dangerously close to yours, and frankly, no amount of alcohol could make you genuinely attracted to him.

“You’re really sexy.” He slurs, his hand grazing up your body.

No, next.

It doesn’t take long to find another, his arm wrapped round your waist as he shares his drink with you. He’s cute, you’re fairly certain. He does have a moustache, which isn’t your usual cup of tea. It’s like a little caterpillar resting above his top lip, twitching as he talks to you. He drowns it slightly as he has more of his drink, and it makes you cringe as he licks at it.

It’d probably tickle if he kissed you, or leave you with a rash, the hairy little ferret on his lip.

Do you know who didn’t have a moustache? Who you wouldn’t have to work out, how not to throw up in their face, as there’s no risk of their facial hair ever getting stuck in your mouth as you kiss?

Mhmm.

Straight straight straight.

You slide out from his embrace, twirling him around to go after some other poor soul and you return to the bar.

It’s disappointing to realise she’s no longer there, not that she should be waiting around for you. She’s probably found someone less rude to spend her time with, someone more gay.

Look at the state of you, traipsing back to a bar in search of woman you don’t know because she looked at you for a second too long and now you can’t shake her from your head. How embarrassing. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You make your way through to the ladies’ room to splash some water on your face, and come to your senses. Of course, that’s where she’s hiding. With some new company of her own.

That shouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even know this woman’s name. You know nothing about her at all except that she’s tall, beautiful and has soft lips. Lips that are now on another woman and you’re incensed. You have no right to be angry about it, and yet, here you are.

You bash at the head of the tap, rather aggressively. Sometimes taps in nightclub restrooms don’t work, it probably needed a firm touch. It has nothing to do with you wanting to distract the woman, no no no. Because you’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You don’t need the attention of another woman, that would be ridiculous. That wouldn’t be very straight of you at all.

It doesn’t seem like your loud and theatrical washing of your hands has done anything to disturb the kiss to the side of you.

And good! You wouldn’t want to do that.

So, when you bump into them to reach for some hand towels, that’s just an accident. The fact that the tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish woman’s eyes flick to you as you dry your hands, is just an unfortunate side effect of your clumsiness.

The fact that it doesn’t stop her from kissing the other woman, however, is outrageous. Her watching you, as she’s busy with someone else? How disgusting.

Your heart shouldn’t be racing at the sight of her, your breath shouldn’t be as shallow at is, and it definitely shouldn’t be catching in your throat as the other woman kisses down her neck, and she’s still only looking at you. This isn’t attractive. This isn’t turning you on. You don’t wish it was you on her neck. There’s that infamous smirk on her face again as she stares at you. She’s unbelievable.

You throw your towels in the bin with an almighty clang as you let the lid drop back down, finally putting the other woman off her stride, and you make a swift exit back into the club.

The music’s too loud again, the smell is suffocating, all of the men are gross by comparison to the woman stuck in your head. It’s been an unsuccessful night and you’re ready to go home alone.

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You said you were straight!” She reminds you, as she pulls you outside with her.

“I am!” You tell her, still annoyed with her little antics.

“You followed me to the toilet?”

“I didn’t know you were in there!” You point out, even more annoyed with her cocky little attitude.

“You’re angry.” She tells you, smirking. “Didn’t like me kissing someone else?”

“I don’t care who you kiss!”

“No?”

“No!”

There’s a palpable tension between you both. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t know this woman. She doesn’t know you. It doesn’t matter that she kissed someone else. You were trying to kiss someone else only a minute before.

Why you’re so enraged by a woman who’s bought you two shots, getting with another woman after you walked away from her, is a question for future you. You’re not about to have an existential crisis in front of her. Questioning your identity in your mid-twenties, is absurd. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

There’s a curiousness, to her decisions, actually. To follow you, when she already had company. To drag you outside, to where no one else is. She’s very confident about you being interested, but she’s not exactly being apathetic herself.

“Why did you leave her?” You ask.

“What?”

“You followed me,” you point out, furrowing your brow, “had a pretty girl draping herself all over you, and you left her to follow me. Why?”

You’ve clearly touched a nerve; her smirk has vanished. You can see her tongue pushing against the inside of her mouth. She’s annoyed with you.

She slowly runs her tongue under her teeth, before wetting her bottom lip with it while rolling her eyes. She doesn’t miss how your breath hitches watching her. Her smirk is back, and she moves closer to you.

“Maybe I’ll go back to her.” She threatens, and your jaw clenches slightly.

“Maybe you should!” You tell her, taking steps backwards as she approaches.

“Do you want me to?”

You collide into the wall behind you, and she places her hands on it by your head.

“No.” You confess, breathlessly.

“You said you were straight.” She repeats, her face mere inches from yours as she leans into you.

You swallow down, your pulse picking up speed.

“I am.” You insist, your eyes locking onto her mouth. “I..”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do?” She questions knowingly, that all too familiar smirk, taking over her face. She tilts her head, impossibly close to yours. You can smell the lime that lingers on her lips, feel her breath that softly blows against you, but she still doesn’t let you have what you want.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You groan, leaning backwards into the wall as far as you can.

“Maybe.” She tells you.

You hate her holding all the cards like this. She has you like putty in her hands. She’s all cocky and in control. Who does she think she is?

You’re better than this. You’re not shy around people you fancy. You may have been caught in a pointless relationship for far too long, but you’re a catch, people are into you. This woman right here, is into you. You don’t need to be nervous with her, it doesn’t mean anything. You’re straight. Straight straight straight. It could be the worst kiss of your life, and why should you care?

You slink your arm up behind her neck, closing the distance between you even further, and her eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m not going to.” You inform her, emboldened by her reaction to you. You duck out from under her arms, blowing her a kiss as you walk back inside. To find a man to take you home. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

It doesn’t take you long at all to find another man to wear around you. One with glasses on. No, he’s not attractive. No, you don’t want to go home with him. But he’s here, he’s a man, and he isn’t driving you quite as crazy as the woman you keep running into. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s hassle free. It’s exactly what you came for, you’re ready to go.

________________

Waking up in unfamiliar sheets, is something you haven’t done in a while. You’re quietly proud of yourself. The sheets smell nice, your hangover headache isn’t half as bad as you thought it would be, and there’s a pleasurable little ache between your legs that tells you that, whatever happened last night, you more than enjoyed yourself.

You wriggle a little under the covers and take a peek to confirm that you are indeed, completely naked. Your eyes are allowed to trail the body next to you. You’ve had sex with it, you’re more than entitled.

You really don’t remember which man it was you left with. There was the one with the glasses, the tall one with the mullet, the man with the moustache, the unfortunate gentleman with the incorrectly placed toupee.

He’s probably the one you’d most be upset about seeing next to you. Not that he didn’t seem friendly enough, but he really wasn’t the attractive stranger you were hunting for.

You risk another quick peek under the covers and your eyes all but bug out of your head. No no nonononono. You pull the covers back down and shut your eyes, trying to remember what the hell went wrong. You had countless semi-attractive men all over you. How the hell?

You peek again. Maybe you’re seeing things. Your hungover little brain playing tricks on you.

No.

That’s definitely not a man’s body. It’s far too beautiful. It’s toned, smooth, sculpted by the gods themselves. You want to put your tongue on it. You probably already have had your tongue on it. Who knows what you’ve done to it, what it’s done to you. How the hell did you go home with a woman?

“Are you enjoying the view?” The voice outside of the covers asks, and you roll yourself over under the sheets away from her.

You’d recognise that accent anywhere. That cocky little tone to her voice. That insufferable Spanish woman from the bar. That tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish walking-headache, took you home, and had her way with you? You? When you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

The ache in between your legs, the dull satisfaction running through your body, and you have her to thank for it?

It’s a dream. It’s a nightmare. It’s a horrible, twisted little trick, that, if you keep your eyes closed to, maybe it will all disappear around you and you’ll wake up again next to a man. A gross, sweaty little man, with too much hair on his face and not enough on the top of his head.

There’s a snicker from outside of the covers and you let out a huff, as she taps at your body.

“What?” You grumble, making no effort to free yourself from the sheets you’ve cocooned yourself in.

You can feel her shimmy herself closer to you and you hold your hand behind you to stop her.

“No!” You tell her, quite firmly, as her torso connects with your fingertips. Her toned torso. Her taut, muscly torso that your fingers have somehow now spread out over. You can feel her breathing against your palm. She hasn’t edged any closer to you after your outburst, and you regret telling her off so soon.

You’d quite like her pressed up against you, if that’s what she wants to do. Maybe you were too hasty, too rude. You can still feel the shortness of her breath against your hand. You’re being inappropriate, touching her like this. You slowly remove your hand from her, still hovering it pretty close.

You reach back for her arm, trailing your fingers down it until you meet with her hand, and you pull it around you. You’re not entirely sure what’s possessing you, you just want to feel her on your skin. She doesn’t need much encouragement to nestle into you, and it’s definitely not a man’s body.

You tangle your fingers with hers over your stomach, leaning into her. She has nice hands. Hands that are quite a bit bigger than yours, it’s no wonder you have an ache.

She removes the covers from over your head, instantly placing her lips to your neck. It’s very easy to forget yourself with her mouth on you, it’s no real surprise she managed to trick you into coming back to hers at all. She frees her fingers from yours, moving her hand down your body, and you put up no resistance to her. You encourage it, if anything, moving yourself to make it easier.

It’s nothing like having a man between your legs. There’s no needless grunting above you, no mindless grabbing, or endless showboating. You don’t need to make excessive noises to boost her ego. She just really knows what she’s doing with her fingers. She has every right to be cocky with herself.

Maybe this is just what it is to be with a woman. Maybe they just know, it’s the same parts, after all. Maybe it’s an inherent knowledge that all women possess, but only a select few ever get to experience. Lucky them.

Lucky you.

You are still being quite loud with her inside of you. It’s not for her benefit, it just really feels very good. You grip at her head behind you, running your fingers down the back of her neck, and you bite at your other hand to mute your sound effects, to stop giving her quite so much satisfaction with herself. You can see that smug little smirk on her face, it’s impossible to know if it’s still annoying or just incredibly sexy. It’s a very thin line with this woman.

It’s hard to keep still with her going to work on you the way she is. You find yourself rolling back over into her and she welcomes you, easily capturing your lips with hers. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They are very nice lips, they do taste nice, and it’s not the first time you’ve kissed them.

Memories of the night come flooding back in.

________________

“I can take you back to mine?” The man wearing glasses offers.

“Perfect!” You reply, all too eager to get out of this frustrating little situation you’ve found yourself in. He places his cup on the nearest table, and winks at you, before leading you to the door.

Again, the hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You’re not leaving with him!” She tells you in no uncertain terms, as she holds you firmly in place.

“You can’t tell me what to do! Who the hell do you think you are?” She doesn’t give in, and as you turn to find the man, he’s already wandered off without you. “Are you joking? What’s your problem?”

You’re absolutely furious with the woman, she has no right to ruin your plans like this. You shake her off of you and head back to the bar, but she shadows you closely.

“You can fuck right off, following me about!”

“You’re really very angry.” She tells you, rather amused at your attitude. “Why, because I didn’t let you leave with some gross man?”

“He was cute!”

“He was about 50!”

That can’t be right.

He had glasses on, sure, but so do lots of people in their twenties. He had ..greying hair. Slightly less common, perhaps, but he had been cute.

Hadn’t he?

“Fuck!”

You rub your fingers over your forehead, trying to erase him from your mind, as the woman continues smirking at you.

“You can wipe that smug look off your face, right now!” You warn her and she chuckles to herself.

“Do you want another drink?”

“..Please.”

You down another round of shots together, being inappropriate with the salt and limes again. There’s an incredible amount of confidence in you. Whether it’s your new disdain for this woman, the fact that you’re unlikely to be going home with someone you’ll be happy waking up next to, or just the alcohol flooding your system, who can tell, but it’s a confidence that you’re more than willing to embrace.

You order another round of drinks and lick her collarbone ready to pour the salt on to. Her eyebrow quirks at you, but she doesn’t stop you doing it. She readies the lime in her mouth, as you down the tequila, and she pierces it with her teeth for you, dripping the juice into your mouth from hers up above.

It’s a very weird mating call from her, and it’s 100% effective. You grab her hand and lead her back to the hallway between the toilets. You bury your head in her neck as the moustache walks past you both, and you open the door to the smoking area to see if anyone’s about. No one is, so you pull her outside with you.

“Why are we back here?” She asks, that smug smile still tattooed on her lips.

“I feel more sober in fresh air.”

“Mm? You’re very drunk.”

“You’re very drunk!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not on a ridiculous hunt for a man!”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s meticulous!” You tell her, giggling slightly at your accidental rhyme. “I’m looking for a very specific man, preferably a good looking one, in his twenties.”

“Really? You didn’t seem too worried, that a man in his twenties was actually a man in his fifties!” She points out.

“Mm. I don’t know that I’m particularly worried about a man in his twenties ..being a woman in her twenties either.” You tell her with a rather casual shrug as you head to one of the tables. You sit yourself up on it, looking back at the woman who gives you a knowing little smile.

“You’re not very straight, are you?” She asks sarcastically.

“I really am.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I’ve never been with a woman, never wanted to be. I’ve only just got out of a long-term relationship with a man. I’ve only ever wanted to be with men.”

“Mm?” She mumbles, moving over to you slowly. She carefully pushes your knees apart and stands in between them, looking down at you. “I’m not a man.” She reminds you, and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Maybe I don’t want you.”

“Mm?” She places a curved finger under your chin, tilting your head and bringing your mouths very close together. “Tell me you don’t.”

There’s a feeling in your stomach at her challenge, a feeling lower than your stomach at her challenge. You do want her, and you’re not a good enough liar to pretend that you don’t.

“I can’t..” You admit, and she smiles again, before removing herself from you. You let out a frustrated little sigh as she moves backwards, and you swing your legs back together. “You want me too!” You tell her and she tilts her head to the side.

“Who told you that?”

“Tell me you don’t.”

“..I can’t.” She admits, and maybe her cocky little smirk has found its way onto your face.

You jump down from the tabletop and lean back against it, nibbling at the inside of your mouth. She casually walks back over to you, resting her hand on your hip.

It’s far less offensive than gentleman number 6’s grazing of your body. You don’t feel the need to push her away at all. She leans back into you, tucking your hair behind your ear. It sends a little tingle right down the side of your neck, and she smirks again at your reaction. You can’t not roll your eyes at her incessant need to be arrogant. She rubs her thumb across your cheek and over your mouth, pulling down on your lower lip gently.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ..what?” She asks, and she’s ruined the moment. You shake your head at her chuckling lightly.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, it’s fine, we don’t have to. I’m not going to beg you for it.” You tilt your head, brushing her nose with yours. “Do you want to kiss me?” She nods silently, and you wink at her. “Looks like we’re both missing out then!”

You slip out from between her and the table and make your way over to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find a man to take me home! I’m straight!”

You can hear her cocky little laugh as you head back into the club, and it sends a little thrill right through your body.

This bizarre game of cat and mouse continues between you both for a little while longer. You keep buying each other shots, drinking them in more obscene ways every time. You back each other into walls, threatening to kiss each other, before one of you walks away, and the whole process repeats itself.

It’s getting harder to compose yourself after each round of shots. You really do just want her to kiss you, you’ve had enough of fighting it, but you also don’t want her to have the satisfaction of you caving in. It’s a ruthless little battle that you’ve found yourself in. She’s incredibly competitive.

You have to commit. Genuinely find yourself a man. It shouldn’t be hard. There’s lots of them about, and you’re more drunk now than you’ve been all night. You’re embarrassingly easy prey.

You survey your surroundings, hoping for one decent looking man to catch your eye. It’s a truly talentless night. You find yourself grimacing slightly realising that all of your friends have already left the place. Some of them will definitely regret their choices in the morning.

As will you, if you don’t manage to get at least one kiss from this godforsaken woman.

“Looking for me?” She asks as she sidles on next to you, leaning against the wall.

“I’m looking for a man! I’ve already told you this.”

“Well ..there’s one there.” She tells you, gesturing to a random fellow in the corner. “There’s another there.” She points out. “There. There. The—”

“I get it, thanks. You have terrible taste in men.”

“I don’t have any taste in men.” She reminds you. “I have pretty impeccable taste in women.”

“Mm? Well, which one takes your fancy?” You ask. “There’s one over there. There ..there. Th—”

She grabs your pointed finger and turns it back towards you. It’s not a new answer, so god knows why you’re blushing at it.

“Then kiss me.” You tell her, little louder than a whisper. “Just kiss me, for fuc—”

She’s clearly had enough too. Maybe it was the tiredness in your voice, the obvious look of defeat in your eyes. Maybe she just doesn’t like you swearing. You’re not going to question it. Her lips are finally on yours, and she was definitely worth the wait. It ignites a spark in you, it sends your tipsy little mind fully into orbit, and she’s the only other person in the room with you.

There’s no sense of desperation in the kiss. It’s not messy, or chaotic. It’s deliberate from her, considered. There’s an air of caution perhaps, a worry that you’ll pull away from her. You’re straight, after all. Maybe she’s nervous that your certainty in wanting a kiss will waver now that she’s finally given you what you want. Maybe you’ve realised that you don’t actually want it.

It’s a new experience for you, surprisingly different from kissing a man, but it’s not one you want to pull away from. It’s not one you want to rush. It’s not one you really want to end at all. You can sense her apprehension, and it’s the first time that she’s had no snark. It’s not a cocky little kiss. She’s not doing it to get it over and done with. It’s not going to end with her smirking at you, like she’s done you a favour. It isn’t meaningless.

It’s tentative, and frankly, you’ve had enough of her carefulness. If she needs a sign that you’re not going anywhere, that you want her to keep kissing you, you’ll find a way to do that. Your tongue parts her lips, and the gasp you elicit is all the confirmation you need of her nerves. It’s endearing to have her be quite so vulnerable with you.

You deepening the kiss is clearly all the confirmation she needs that everything’s fair game, because she wastes no time in escalating the intensity. She clings to you, wrapping her arm around your waist, her hand gripping at your hip, the other cradling your jaw. She backs you up against the wall and muffles the moan that escapes you with your joined lips.

Her tongue dances with yours, and you let her take over all your senses. It’s just a kiss, and yet it’s like a journey to a whole new world. It’s entirely all-consuming, the rest of existence has melted to nothingness around you. You don’t care where you are, you don’t care who’s watching. Or do you?

Maybe there is a mild sense of urgency to it, because kissing is simply not enough. You need to have her closer, impossibly close. You need her, entirely, and regardless of how much you’re craving the feeling of her, you do still care about where that happens.

“Are you local?” You ask, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. She only gives a silent nod in reply. “I’m like ..20 minutes by taxi?”

“My hotel’s closer than that.”

“So ..back to yours?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, searching your eyes for any sense of reluctance. She’s unlikely to find any, but you nod, assertively, just to reaffirm. “I’m not taking you back to mine to ..play cards?” She double-checks with you and you chuckle, resting your forehead to hers.

“No, I’m sort of counting on that.” You tell her. “Unless you don’t wa—”

She cuts you off with a kiss again. There was no swearing this time, no tiredness or look of defeat. Maybe she just likes kissing you.

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asks again, because she’s polite, and underneath all her cocky annoyingness, she really is very sweet.

“Oh my god.” You sigh. You do still find yourself rolling your eyes, you don’t know how much more obvious you need to be with her. “..please.”

The rush back to her hotel room is fun, you feel like a teenager all over again. Waltzing through the streets of London, your hand interlaced with an attractive stranger’s, the promise of sex hanging in the air.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a woman you’re linked up with. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s a one-time little indulgence. An experiment, for research purposes. To find out what it is your sister’s been going so crazy over, ever since she was a teenager.

It doesn’t mean anything when she keeps kissing you against the walls of closed buildings. It doesn’t mean anything when you pull her back into you at the entrance of her hotel. Yes, it’s nice. It’s enjoyable. It steals the air right from your lungs every single time, but that doesn’t mean anything. How could it, when you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

You do keep your hands off each other when you get to the lift of the hotel, there’s an older woman in there with you, and you’re not about to put on a show for her. Not for free.

Maybe your eyes keep meeting too much, or the smirking is too obvious. Maybe you do keep touching once or twice, because something’s definitely giving you both away.

“Lesbians?” The older woman asks, with a very clear disdain.

“Hm? For tonight.” You reply with a nod, unperturbed by her demeanour. Your Spanish host shakes her head at you, smiling as she looks up at the ceiling.

You’ve dealt with a few homophobes in your time. Your sister isn’t exactly subtle with her identity. It welcomes dirty looks, offensive words, and you’ve never been one to shy away from protecting her. You’ve never had to defend yourself against prejudice, but she’s not exactly an intimidating woman. You could easily take her if she tries to raise her hand.

“It’s disgusting.” She mutters under her breath, and her unsupportive attitude is sort of spurring you on.

“Do you think?” You ask. “What’s so disgusting about it?”

“Two women. It’s a waste.”

“Oof. I am not about to let her go to waste, don’t you worry about that at all, madam.” You reassure her, offering a friendly smile that earns you a very angry look in reply.

You don’t miss the smirk that graces the taller woman’s face next to you in the mirror, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“It’s not natural!” The older woman tells you, and you nod your head slowly back at her. “It’s disgusting!”

“You’re very annoyed about it.” You point out. “It’s a bit unnecessary, no?”

“I think you’re both disgusting!” She hisses at you again.

“Oh dear.” You lean back against the bar of the elevator, as the older woman stares you down. “That’s an incredible argument you’ve put forward. I think I’ve seen the light!”

She not at all impressed by your relaxed sarcasm, you’re clearly getting on her nerves. Your lack of remorse, the fact you’re not begging for her forgiveness.

“I think it—”

“You think it’s disgusting, madam. We get it.” You interrupt, a little bit tired of her insistence. “Don’t spend your evening with another woman, then. We’re not inviting you to join us, so you can calm down.” You tell her, moving back towards the Spanish woman behind you.

She wraps her arm around your waist instantly and you lean into her touch. It’s comforting, subtle. It’s a very casual display of support without silencing you, without fighting over you.

She’s not dramatically shouting at the other woman; she’s not emasculated by you doing all the talking. She’s not making empty threats or getting up in the other woman’s face.

She’s not reacting at all in the way you’ve come to expect. The way that he probably would, to someone questioning him. Not that your ex ever defended your sister’s honour with you, but he certainly enjoyed getting into a scrap when he felt threatened.

It’s very attractive from her, actually, to just silently remind you that she’s there if you need her. That she’s with you, she does have your back, and you’d kiss her right there on the mouth if the woman opposite wasn’t glaring at you quite so intently.

Maybe you should kiss her regardless. There’s only a few more floors left till the old bat gets off. What’s she going to do, slap you both for some pda? There’s a security camera in here, she wouldn’t be so stupid.

Perhaps you can control yourself for a couple more floors, you don’t need to provoke the bastard woman. So what if she’s an unfavourable little witch, she’s not ruining your evening, you’re not going to let her.

Well, if that’s your logic, why should you let her stop you from kissing the woman when you want to? What courtesy do you owe to her? If she’s that upset about it, she’ll have to either avert her eyes like a petulant little child, or stop off at the floor below and hope she doesn’t choke on her bigotry when walking the rest of the way up. You don’t care.

Thankfully, neither does the Spanish beauty who matches your energy and kisses you back with the same fervour you’re showing her.

You’re instantly entirely unbothered by the third wheel once there’s an extra tongue back in your mouth, her Spanish hands on your face. You don’t care at all how uncomfortable you’re making the old bint. Frankly, you hope her eyes are burning at the sight of you both.

She doesn’t let you enjoy your moment for too long. Of course she doesn’t, the dark-sided little mare. She barges past you both as the doors open and she spits at the floor in front of you. The absolute nerve. She expectorates in the lift inside of a nice hotel, and you’re the disgusting ones? Absolutely not. You’re seeing red. You really could take her, you’ve been to a gym more than once or twice in your life, you’re not weak.

“You revolting little bi—”

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“Let her go!” She tells you, laughing as she spins you back round to face her. “Por favor, she’s not worth it!”

“She spat at us! That dirty little cu—”

She kisses you again. Maybe she really does hate your swearing. Her lips are distracting, though, and you don’t mind learning that that’s one surefire way to get them back on yours.

“She really was a hateful bitch.” You murmur between kisses, and the Spaniard giggles against you.

“You’re a very angry straight girl.” She tells you, pushing your hair back off your face. “You don’t like homophobes?”

“Do you?” You ask, frowning at the woman in front of you.

“No,” she admits with a chuckle, “I’d have probably just let her get on with it quietly, though. Didn’t feel the need to anger her more!”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“You didn’t, I’d have backed you if she kept going.”

There’s that sexy little smirk again. It shouldn’t do things to you the way it does. It shouldn’t set your whole body on fire. A small curve to her lips, and you want to rip her clothes off? You’re very tragic.

You drag your eyes away from her and scan the floor number you’re on.

“Bloody hell!” You sigh. “Did you really have to book a room on the highest bloody floor? I get it, you’re rich ..but fuck me!”

You drum out your frustrations on the handrail of the lift, it’s slow ascent through the floors seemingly never-ending.

“Are you sobering up?” She asks, and you nod at her, still tapping your hands. “Are you changing your mind?”

You stop your little percussive performance and turn back to face her.

“You’re very convinced that I’m going to back out?”

“I just want you to know that you can.”

It’s genuine from her. It’s not a perverse attempt at guilt tripping, she’s not trying some weird technique of reverse psychology. She genuinely wants you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready. If your own act of confidence, is exactly that, just an act.

You take her hand and pull her back towards you. She rests her hands on the rail behind you and you lean in very close.

“Do you want me to?” You ask, and she shakes her head. You tilt her face to meet her eyes and you kiss the corner of her mouth. “Well, okay then, and neither do I.” You tell her quietly, your lips feathering hers. “So know, that until I revoke it, you have my consent ..to do whatever.”

“Careful,” she warns, “I might take you up on that.”

It earns you a deep kiss, and another cheeky smirk. There’s exhilaration shooting through your body and this goddamn endless journey through the sky is entirely unbearable.

“It’s very cute, that your hotel is so close to the bar, but it really would’ve been quicker to just go back to mine!” You point out, patting at her hands behind you.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t me that booked it.”

That’s very cryptic. What on earth is that supposed to mean?

“Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s waiting for you in there.” You tell her, narrowing your eyes as you await an explanation.

“No, it’s a ..business trip.”

That’s still very cryptic.

“A business trip? What do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“No?” You chuckle, arching an eyebrow. “Are you a spy?”

She laughs back at you, shaking her head. “No,” she assures you, “but it’s too personal.”

“Too personal? We’re not allowed to know each other’s careers?”

She shakes her head, and you find yourself smiling slightly with narrowed eyes. It’s very intriguing. If she wants you to be less interested in her, that wasn’t the way to play it.

“So, I’m guessing, I’m also not allowed to even know your name?” You check.

“A.”

“A?” You chuckle, nodding your head. “That’s a very beautiful name!” You tell her, your hand resting on her chest as you push her away from you. “There’s no way your parents were that lazy!”

“It’s my initial.” She tells you, rolling her eyes with that classic little smirk, as she pulls you back with her across to the other side of the elevator. “My first name starts with A.”

“And that’s all you’re giving me?” You ask, resting your hands on the railing behind her as she nods her head. “You really don’t want me to find you after tonight?” You question her, with your tongue tracing the bottom of your teeth. “Haven’t even been with me yet, and you already know you won’t want a repeat?”

She dips her head to kiss you again, and your hands grip at the bar behind her. You pull yourself in towards her, desperate to be closer, and she cradles your head in her hand.

“It’s not that,” she tells you gently, “but I go home tomorrow.”

Shit. That shouldn’t be so surprising to you. She has a thick Spanish accent, she’s staying in a luxury hotel, paid for by a company on her behalf. Of course she isn’t staying in London for very long. What happened to your exceptional detective skills? How did you not work that one out?

“Fuck.” Is all that falls out of your mouth as you pull yourself back from the woman.

“I’m sorry..” she offers, but you shake your head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I should have realised.” You tell her, nibbling at the inside of your mouth.

It’s a bummer, certainly. There’s something between you both. Whether it’s just a physical attraction, a sexual desire, who knows? But it’s there. You can feel it, and you’re positive that she can too. It doesn’t have to be anything deeper than that. That would mean you really did need to do some introspective work on yourself moving forward.

She’s just a woman. The one woman. The world’s most beautiful woman, who’s turned your world upside down, in a matter of hours. Who bought you a drink, that left you confused. That kissed another woman, and left you annoyed. Who refused to let you leave with a random ancient bastard and has saved you from spending a fundamentally flawed night with a limp-dicked disappointment.

And tomorrow she’ll be gone. You only have tonight with her.

You can walk, she’s already told you that. You can turn around now, and not let yourself fall any deeper. Save yourself the pain of a perfect night that you’ll never be able to repeat. Save yourself from spending the rest of your life chasing an experience you can never recreate with someone else.

It’d be hard enough to find her in London. It’ll be impossible to track her down in Spain.

Leave her now, with just the mind-numbing kisses to haunt you for all eternity. Don’t give your soul to a woman you’ll never see again. Don’t let her steal your heart away with her. Don’t ruin a life of enjoying mediocre sex for yourself.

The elevator rings out, signalling your arrival at her floor and you stay rooted to the spot as she slowly makes her exit. She looks back at you, a sad smile replacing her arrogant one.

“I understand.” She tells you, as she disappears down the hall.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all why your body feels so drawn to this woman. Why your mind, your heart, your soul are so desperate for you to chase after her. It can only spell trouble for you. One kiss with her sent your head spinning. Anything more than that will undoubtedly result in irreparable damage. How do you recover from that? How do you move on? How do you let yourself make any other meaningful connections with someone after feeling so intoxicated by a woman you know absolutely nothing about?

It isn’t possible for you to feel this way. It doesn’t make any sense. Even if you weren’t straight. Straight straight straight. How the hell can you fall for someone, when you don’t even have the luxury of knowing her first name? You don’t know what she does, you don’t know who she is. She could be an evil mastermind. A dark-sided villain who does terrible things, all the way over in Spain.

Don’t follow her. It’s foolish. It’ll be the worst mistake of your life. A night you can’t take back. An act you can’t undo.

The doors start to close in front of you, and you wedge your foot in between to stop them. You’re an idiot. A damn blasted fool.

But how could you not go after her? How can you not chase after the rush she sends through you? It’s dangerous, it’s messy, but you want her. Even though it’s just for a night. You can’t walk away from a feeling this strong. A yearning so powerful every cell in your body is screaming out for it.

She’s annoying. Frustrating. Beautiful. Enticing. There’s something, and you can’t very well just turn around and walk the other way.

You follow her into the hallway of her floor, and she turns back to face you.

“I thoug—”

“I didn’t revoke.” You tell her, shaking your head as you walk towards her. “I didn’t come up all this way to play cards, and I certainly didn’t come up all this way to go straight back bloody down again!”

She chuckles at you, shaking her head.

“And tomorrow?”

“We’ll deal with that then.” You tell her. “If it’s only meant to be one incredible night, then so be it.”

“You think it’ll be incredible?” She asks, the smirk tugging at her lips.

“With you? ..yes.”

The smirk morphs into a full smile. One that reaches her eyes. One that transforms her whole beautiful face into the most breathtaking radiance as she beams back down at you.

“And what if it’s awful?” She chuckles.

“Then I’ll be packing your bags for you to go in the morning.”

She takes a step to close the distance between you and pulls you in for a slow deep kiss.

“Are you absolutely su—”

“For fuck’s sake!” You whisper, crashing your head to her shoulder to chuckle against her neck. “Yes! I’m sure! I’m very bloody certain, I want you to take me to your room. Yes!”

“Yes ..what?”

She’s incredibly frustrating. Just wilfully annoying. Childish, pathetic, addictive, perfect. She’s everything. She’s absolutely everything.

“Please.”

________________

You don’t hate this woman. She didn’t trick you into bed at all. There’s affection between you, a fondness. It wasn’t a drunken night of angry passion. It was intimate, careful, experimental. Perfect.

You have a desperate need for this woman you’re wrapped up in. A want to have her close, to keep her with you forever. An impossible request. An unattainable, hopeless little prayer.

“You’re leaving today.” You remind her, panting slightly as she calms you from your high.

“I did tell you that.” She whispers, her fingers trailing your stomach.

“I know, I just ..it just hit me.”

You look back to her, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that you can only imagine you’re reflecting back at her with yours. You stroke your thumb over her cheek and lean in for a kiss. It’s soft, impossibly gentle. It’s the most painful way to say goodbye.

“I should go,” you tell her, “my sister will be wondering where I am. Wondering what ..man I hooked up with.” You chuckle a little pulling yourself out of her embrace.

“What will you tell her?”

“He was beautiful.” You admit. “Foreign.. Italian, I think.”

She laughs to the side of you, leaning back over towards you as she shakes her head. She places a kiss on your shoulder, lighting a tiny fire with her mouth.

“I don’t want you to go.” She tells you, placing more kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips.

You don’t want to go either, not when she’s igniting an inferno inside of your body like this. It’s cruel, it’s sadistic. It’s the perfect way to say goodbye.

“What time’s your flight?” You ask, with a mild desperation to your voice.

“Not till this evening.”

“Do you have to be anywhere else today?”

“Not till this afternoon.”

“So, we still have the rest of the morning?”

“Mhmm.”

“It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing ..if I was late back home.”

“No?”

“Unless you’re kicking me out?”

She has no intention of doing that, as well you know. She straddles herself on top of you, and your heart starts racing again. Her body on full display in front of you. The most beautiful body. She’s in incredible shape. It’d be more intimidating to you, if she hadn’t repeatedly told you how beautiful she thinks you are last night. You’re not in terrible shape yourself, but you definitely felt the need to tense more to give yourself some sort of definition. Her abs are just naturally on full display without any effort from her at all.

“You’re very beautiful.” You tell her, taking her in. “You have very beautiful ..eyes.”

“My eyes are up here.” She tells you, pointedly.

“Mhmm. Very beautiful.” You repeat, ignoring her little biology lesson as you trace your fingers over her curves.

She traps her tongue between her teeth as she smiles down at you, before leaning back in for a bruising kiss.

“You might be my favourite straight girl.” She tells you, and you roll your eyes.

“Might be?” You ask, feigning offence as you push her back up.

“You’re in the top three.” She tells you, smirking.

“Woww.” You draw out sarcastically. “That’s very charitable of you, thanks.”

She chuckles to herself, collapsing back down to run her lips across your chest. She starts trailing lower, and you can tell where she’s heading. She’s already seen to you once this morning, she’s done more than enough. You’d like to repay the favour. Frankly, you could do with a rest.

You grip at her thighs to flip her over, and the smile on her face as you do, has you kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

“Are you okay?” She asks as your eyes roam over her face.

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I remember ..really enjoying something last night.” You admit, a little cautiously.

“Yeah? I remember you enjoying it too.”

“Did ..did you enjoy it?”

“Mhmm.” She murmurs, and you can feel her body shifting beneath you. “You’re very good with your tongue.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too enthusiastically, as a tiny thrill courses right through you. You have to fight every instinct not to wet your own lips with it as she nods, that small smirk coming back into view. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You tasted good.” You breathe, clenching your jaw slightly.

“Are you still claiming to be straight?” She chuckles, her eyebrow arching.

“Mm.” You laugh, collapsing back into her for a kiss. “It’s hanging by a thread.” You admit, smiling into her as her lips move against yours. “Do you want me to?” You ask, a knowing look on your face.

“Yes.” She admits, her back arching as she readjusts herself for you.

“Yes ..what?”

She shakes her head, with a disbelieving smile. Maybe you’re in love with this stranger. Maybe she feels it too.

“..Please.” She whispers, and you don’t need asking twice.

________________

The walk back to the elevator, has no reason being as painful as it is. Even after a morning together between the sheets, a shared shower before a very late breakfast. You’ve still only known this woman a little over 12 hours. You’ve learnt absolutely nothing about her personal life, who she is, why she’s here, whether she’ll ever be back. She knows nothing about you. It isn’t right for there to be a connection between you, when you have no fundamental knowledge of each other. You could have literally nothing in common, and your heart’s tearing itself in two at the thought of her leaving for another country.

Neither of you want to say goodbye to each other. That much is obvious as you tangle your fingers with hers and stare at the button for the lift. Both elevators are on the bottom floor, you’ll still have a few minutes together even if you request it now. You can’t draw an eternity out of a few minutes, but you can savour them. It’s like setting a little timer for you as you press the button. The lift starts its ascension up the floors and the seconds you still have together start to decrease.

“This is insane.” You admit to her, your eyes beginning to sting. “I shouldn’t hate leaving you this much, I don’t even know who you are!”

“I know.” She tells you, with the same shaky breath as you.

She pulls you into her embrace and you cling to the fabric of her sweatshirt for dear life. She’s given you one of her sweatshirts, to stop you looking too dishevelled as you do the walk of shame back home. It’s a bit oversized on you, and she told you you looked adorable when you had to roll the sleeves up a couple times to free your hands.

You sort of wish she’d stop being so sweet to you. Go back to being the annoying woman that had her lips on someone else. Go back to being the weirdly confusing woman with the salt and the limes. Do anything to make saying goodbye to each other just a tiny bit more bearable.

“Imagine if you weren’t straight,” she whispers to the side of your head, “imagine the breakdown you’d be having then!”

She’s an idiot, and it does manage to make you laugh, as warm tears escape your eyes, and you bury your head further into her neck.

She’s not straight, you remember. So, maybe it’s a subtle confession of her own struggle she’s having with you parting ways. She is holding you impossibly tight, like you’ll disappear from right in front of her in a puff of smoke, if she loosens her grip even slightly.

The elevator seems to be soaring through the levels without any people in it. It’s a far more rapid process than it was when it was holding the pair of you hostage last night. That isn’t fair. Who designed that?

“It’s going to be the longest journey of my life going back down without you.” You mumble against her.

“Hopefully you don’t bump into your best friend on the way!”

“For fuck’s sake!” You laugh, pulling yourself from her and wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “That evil cow!” You let out a sigh and shake your head. “She’ll be fine with me today, to be fair. I’m straight again now!”

“Oh, of course! You can agree with each other about it being disgusting, then!”

“Mm. I mean ..we did do some pretty disgusting things to each other.” You remind her smugly.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you giving her all the details.” She winks, and you grin as you pull her back into a hug.

“I really enjoyed it.” You confess to her, quietly. “I really enjoyed being with you.”

“Me too.”

The ding of the elevator signals that your time is up. The moment you’ve been dreading, has finally arrived. You head straight in. You don’t know if it’s better to get a clean break, or prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. The doors start closing, and her foot appears in the gap to keep you for a moment longer.

She fists her hands in her sweatshirt you’re wearing and kisses you across the threshold. It’s one that catches you off guard, but you match the passion in it as soon as you realise what’s happening. The doors try closing on you a few times, but you keep blocking them with a hand. You’re not letting them steal your moment.

She breaks the kiss but keeps her grip on you. You can see the tears in her eyes, feel the ones in yours. It’s ridiculous. You catch one with your thumb as it starts to roll down her cheek and you place a kiss to where you broke its fall.

“If you’re ever back in London..” you tell her, a small smirk on your face, “just ask around for my initial. I’m sure someone will lead you back to me!”

“I’ll have to try.” She tells you earnestly, letting go of your sweatshirt and smoothing it back down for you.

“I really need to go. It’s not possible to make this any easier.” You tell her, pushing her back as the doors start their final closing attempt. “Don’t forget me!”

“I won’t remember anything else.” She tells you, as the doors close, and neither of you have chance to change your minds.

It shouldn’t hurt like this. It was a one-night stand. They’re not rare. The pair of you crying after a single night together? That’s rare. That’s ridiculous.

Collapsing in on yourself as you try to catch your breath without her? That’s insanity.

The tears flow freely as you hold yourself up against the side of the elevator. You pull the neckline of her sweatshirt up over your nose and breathe her in. Playing make believe in your head, that she’s still with you. It’s a souvenir you’ll treasure. A living memory. Proof that it wasn’t a dream, and it certainly wasn’t a nightmare. It was your perfect little night, wrapped up with the world’s most perfect woman. The woman who’s running off back to Spain with your heart in her hand luggage.

All this longing, this desire, this love, for a woman that you barely know. A woman you have no hope in ever finding again. A woman you’ve fallen head over heels for, despite being straight. Straight straight straight.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Like a Challenge - An LDV Malec Story

“Tutoring, Mom? Really? The rest of us didn’t get tutoring.”

“It’s different these days, hun. The curriculum is extremely competitive now,” his mother points out, walking past him down the stairs. “It’s as if they want the children to fail in class.”

“So, what if he fails a class or two?” Alec asks without thinking.

Mom stops in her tracks and turns around, incredulous. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“He’s in fourth grade!” Alec throws up his hands. “Nobody cares if he fails at math!”

“I care,” Mom huffs.

“Do you really care if he fails math, or are you just worried about your friends finding out?” Alec cocks his head.

“Do you really not want him to go for tutoring, or are you just complaining because you don’t want to drive him?” Mom counters, raising an eyebrow.

Right. Never argue with a lawyer.

“Mom, come on,” Alec groans, trailing after her. “I have lectures.”

“You don’t have lectures on the weekends,” she points out, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. “And the last time I checked, you don’t have a social life either.”

“That was unnecessary!” Alec scowls, crossing his arms. “I have plans to hang out with Jace on weekends, you know.”

“Great, take Jace with you.”

“Mom!”

“Alec, honestly, I ask you for one thing-”

“Okay, here we go-”

“-And I do so much for this family while managing my full-time job-”

“Jesus, Mom! Fine. I’ll drive him!” Alec relents. 

He knows full well that she only asked him because he was the only one who’d drive through Manhattan traffic on the weekend without complaining (much) about it. 

Izzy just straight-up said, ‘No, thanks.’ Alec wishes he could be that indifferent too.

But maybe it’s not a bad thing. 

His little brother is growing up fast, and Alec worries that Max will pull away any day now. He’ll be a teenager in a couple of years, and Alec will have graduated from Columbia. Max will be too cool to hang out with his boring older brother.

So, yeah. Maybe this is an opportunity to bond. God knows he struggles with it. He’s good with Izzy, and Izzy is good with both of them. But Alec and Max never really clicked for some reason. He usually blames the age gap, as it prevents him from thinking too much about other possible reasons.

“Thank you, darling, drive safe!” Mom blows him a kiss and heads out the door.

Alec heads upstairs to find his brother, only to discover that Max is already downstairs, sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for him.

“Someone’s excited for tutoring,” Alec chuckles as he slides behind the wheel. “Is Mom forcing you too?”

“No, I want to be good at math,” Max hums in response. “Dad says I need it if I want to study programming.”

“Buddy, you’re nine,” Alec shakes his head fondly.

“Maybe I’m a child prodigy,” Max shrugs and leans out of the window. “How long till we get to Brooklyn?”

“Shouldn’t you know that, Child Prodigy?” Alec grins.

Max scowls and looks out the window again, unimpressed. Alec isn’t really sure how to get through to him. Nothing he ever does or says seems to interest Max.

Except for one thing.

“Do you think when you’re president, we can skip the line when we go to Five Guys?” Max asks suddenly.

It’s one of his favorite things to do - asking Alec the most random hypothetical questions about his future as the president of the country.

The rest of the family, and probably the rest of the country, mostly care about how he’s going to change lives. Max just wants to know if they can skip lines and get discounts.

Sometimes Alec wants to become president just to make those dreams come true.

“They’ll probably close it down for us,” Alec replies. “We’ll be the only people there.”

“That sounds sad, Alec,” Max says casually.

“I guess,” Alec murmurs, trying not to let it sting. Kids, man. Oof. “But we’ll have each other, right?”

“I guess,” Max echoes, going back to people-watching through the window.

When they arrive at the address Mom gave him, Alec climbs out of the car and escorts Max to the building. They climb the stairs, Alec holding Max’s hand.

“I’m not a child,” Max mumbles, tugging at the strap of his backpack with his other hand.

“You are literally the legal definition of a child,” Alec laughs. Max rolls his eyes.

Maybe this is why they don’t vibe. Maybe Max doesn’t want to feel like a child, especially with siblings old enough to go to college. But Alec doesn’t know how else to treat him - like a baby, something precious and important. 

“Why are we taking the stairs anyway?” Max complains.

“This is an old building,” Alec explains. “Most on this side of town don’t have elevators.”

“Do you think when you’re president, you can make elevators compulsory for all buildings?” Max asks.

“I don’t see why not,” Alec shrugs. “It would make buildings more accessible for people with wheelchairs.”

“Or you could ask people to build flying wheelchairs,” Max suggests. “That would be accessible and fun.”

“Would you be interested in being one of my advisors?” Alec asks, maybe a little too genuinely.

“We’ll see,” Max hums, as if considering all the offers from all the potential presidents.

Alec can’t help but smile. His brother is too good. 

Which is why he doesn’t need this stupid tutoring. Max is perfect. He is hardworking and probably the smartest of them all. Alec doesn’t want Max to think there’s something lacking in him, even if there is, he doesn’t want Max to feel like it’s something to be fixed.

Sometimes you’re just bad at stuff, and that’s fine.

Max knocks on the door, and Alec quickly crouches down. “Hey, listen. We don’t actually have to do this.”

“Really?” Max looks surprised, as if he didn’t know that was an option. “What about Mom?”

“We could tell her you went to class,” Alec grins. “We could just hang out in the arcade for an hour instead.”

“Really?” Max gasps, eyes wide with excitement.

So, that’s how you become the fun sibling. You lie to your parents and play loose with your morals. 

Got it. Alec can do this all day.

He’s about to throw Max over his shoulder and run down the stairs when the apartment door opens. Alec looks up.

Oh.

“Hello?” The man on the other side smiles warmly. “You must be Max. I’m Magnus.”

“Er, it’s Alec, actually,” Alec straightens up immediately. “Alec Lightwood.”

“I was talking to the child, but it’s nice to meet you, Alec Lightwood,” Magnus says with a small roll of his eyes. His gorgeous eyes. “Max, do you want to come inside?”

“Uh,” Max hesitates and turns to Alec. “We’re actually here to sell Girl Scout cookies. Right, Alec?”

Magnus leans against the doorframe, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Are you a Girl Scout then?”

“Yes?” Max replies, uncertain but determined.

“Not that I am opposed to breaking gender roles, love, but you don’t seem to have any cookies with you,” Magnus points out.

“It’s in the car,” Max informs seriously. “We’ll go get it.”

“Hold on there,” Alec grabs Max by the shirt and pulls him back. He smiles awkwardly at Magnus, who steps aside to let them in. “He’s just joking.”

“Joking?” Magnus raises an eyebrow, settling into a small circular dining table for two. “Trying to be a stand-up comedian, are we?”

“No,” Max scowls, clearly not amused.

“No?” Magnus shakes his head with a smile. Gorgeous. Gorgeous. Gorgeous. “What do you want to do when you grow up then?”

“I’m gonna make video games,” Max declares confidently.

“That sounds fun,” Magnus says, genuinely interested.

“You’re not gonna ask me what I want to do when I grow up?” Alec asks, trying to keep his tone light.

Magnus gives him a look, then sighs dramatically. “What do you want to do when you grow up, Alexander?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I’m gonna be the president,” Alec announces.

“That doesn’t sound fun,” Magnus remarks, turning back to Max.

“Shall we get started? I know a lot of people don’t like math, but I’ll try to make it fun for you, hm?”

“You do this a lot?” Alec asks, settling onto the couch, unable to resist.

Magnus glances at him, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Alexander, you are interrupting my class. But if you must know, yes, tutoring is my side gig.”

“What’s your main gig then?” Alec presses, intrigued.

Magnus tilts his head, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “You know, your mother doesn’t pay me to talk to you.”

“Can I pay you to talk to me?” Alec grins, undeterred.

“I don’t think you can afford it, darling,” Magnus hums, turning his attention back to Max.

Alec doesn’t disturb them afterward. He settles on the couch, fiddling with the book he brought. But he can’t focus. His eyes keep drifting to Magnus, who is quietly tutoring Max, a smile ever-present on his face. Max seems engaged in the lesson, asking questions now and then, laughing at whatever Magnus tells him.

An hour and some intense pining later, Magnus wraps up the lesson and even offers Max a cookie.

“Do I get a cookie?” Alec asks with a grin walking up to the man in the small kitchen. 

“I don’t think you’ve earned it,” Magnus shrugs, putting the box of cookies away carefully. “Is there someone else who can accompany Max next weekend?”

“Do you find me distracting?” Alec cocks his head.

Magnus lets out a dramatic sigh, as if annoyed, but it’s not a no. “Does your brother know?”

“He knows I’m gay,” Alec shrugs.

“Does he know you’re flirting with his teacher?” Magnus corrects.

“Max, do you know that I’m flirting with your teacher?” Alec calls out.

“You keep staring at him a lot,” his brother says with a slight frown. “Is that what flirting means?”

“No,” Magnus says seriously and turns back to Alec. “If you’re coming here again, I’m going to have to ask you to behave.”

“What if I find him a better teacher?” Alec suggests. “Can I come back here and not behave then?”

“You can find him a different teacher, but I doubt you’d find him a better teacher,” Magnus replies haughtily.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Alec notes.

“I quite like Max,” Magnus says to that. “I’d like to keep tutoring him.”

“Yeah?” Alec can’t help but smile at that. “He’s good?”

“He’s curious,” Magnus replies. “I like curious children.”

“And he seems to like you too,” Alec points out. “He’s usually very quiet. He laughs with you. Never laughs at my jokes.”

“Maybe you’re not as funny as you think you are, Alexander,” Magnus suggests.

Alec laughs at that, shaking his head. “I guess it’s just an older brother thing. He doesn’t like anything I do.”

“Appreciation is not the same as affirmation,” Magnus says. “He might not show it, but he seems to believe in you anyway.”

“Is that right?” Alec asks, amused.

“I’ve known him for an hour, and he’s already mentioned four times that when his brother becomes president-”

“It’s just a silly game he likes to play-”

“He says when, not if,” Magnus points out. “He believes in you. Sometimes that’s enough.”

“You got all of that in an hour?” Alec asks incredulously.

“I am very perceptive,” Magnus shrugs.

“Do you want to go out on a date with me?” Alec asks, feeling like enough foreplay has been had. Well, not enough, but maybe they can pick it up later. Hopefully.

Magnus stares at him for a long moment, fiddling with the hem of his blue shirt. “Did you mean what you said before? About the president thing? Is that really your dream?”

“Yes,” Alec nods without hesitation.

“Then it is best that you keep your distance from me,” Magnus points out.

“Why?” Alec asks.

“Because dating someone like me will make things difficult for you,” Magnus replies.

“Magnus, I’m a gay man trying to be the president of this country,” Alec laughs. “It’s already difficult for me.”

“So why on earth would you make things more difficult?” Magnus demands. 

“Because I like a challenge,” Alec shrugs. “And you’re really fucking gorgeous.”

“Huh,” Magnus says in response. “Well, you should’ve probably started with that.”

Alec chuckles. “So?”

“So?” Magnus echoes.

“You gonna give me a cookie or what?” Alec asks.

“Not yet,” Magnus hums. “Perhaps you should give me your number, and I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

Alec does his best not to jump into the air and pump his fists. He nods solemnly instead. “That sounds fair.”

“Alec, let’s go!” Max shouts, picking up his backpack and wiping his hands on his trousers.

“I’ll see you next week, Max,” Magnus tells the boy with a smile. “Remember your homework, hm?”

“Okay,” Max gives a thumbs up.

“I’ll see you next week too?” Alec asks.

“I suppose you will,” Magnus smiles at him. “Have a good day, Alexander.”

“Yeah, it’s not gonna get better than this,” Alec calls over his shoulder as he grabs his brother’s hand and heads down the stairs.

“Alec?” Max says as he climbs into the passenger seat of the car.

“Yeah, buddy?” Alec asks as he gets behind the wheel.

“Are you going to marry Magnus when you become president?” Max asks him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alec scoffs, giving his brother a smile. “I’m gonna marry him way before that.”

[sunny-mercya]

Runaway Love

Roronoa Zoro x Male Reader | Unreciprocated! Sanji x Male Reader

Fandom -> One Piece

Requested by -> @heehoe

Masterlist

Zoro watches you from his hanging position, how you sat on the ground—near him as you stubbornly didn't want to leave his side, no matter how many threats and rough treatments you gotten from the Marines—starring into the distance with an dazed and sleepy expression. He knows that look, you doing this sometimes when being low on sugar, reminiscing in a past you wished sometimes to be different.

Just five more days, Zoro tells himself and then he would be let free and you two could row off to whatever Island lays ahead next. Just five more days without food and water—Zoro could manage this, but he was more worried about you and even though impressed, proud a little even, how long you lasted without the humane necessity, it also worries him as the last time you went this long without food—or more precisely sugar—you were on the brink of a drop like stroke.

Arranged marriages were a common occurrence in yours and other wealthy families. Most, if not all, of your siblings had been married off to other Men and Women and sometimes even both—genders never matters in those political and social affairs of wealth and fame.

Some of your siblings had found their love in it and some of them just lived through it—as family reputations come always first.

With you being the youngest and last in your family, your mother—a sinister cunning woman—had planned your wedding and marriage partner—a hard chose between the Charlotte and Vinsmoke family—on the day you're born.

At the age of 5 you had meet your soon-to-be spouse—Sanji Vinsmoke—and you two had formed instantly a bond. A friendship and thinking back on it, you could say Sanji was/had been your first love.

Throughout the four months of naïve childlike bliss and living in the Germa Kingdom, with two of your older Siblings, Sanji and you were smitten in each other's company. Him baking you, his ever firsts and a bit too salty, cakes and you being you—fumbly doing the things which you were taught in order to impress Sanji just a little bit.

Just two children being children.

And when Sanji had been gone one day—at first you were told was away to learn proper etiquettes, till he had actually vanished—your own misery had begun.

~~~

You woke from your dazing dozing. Blinking owlish you looked into the face of a smiling—more like grinning brightly full of energy and optimism—stranger.

Black curls bouncing from underneath his strawhat and framing his slight chubby cheeks.

«Zoro! He's awake! Awake!» the stranger proclaimed excitedly loudly, poking the tip of your nose and grabbing your cheeks, pulling at them.

You squinted your eyes at him. Lips twitching into a frown. You couldn't remember much, besides waiting next to Zoro till his punishment trial had ended, but you surely would remember a face like his.

«Oi oi! Give him some space Luffy and don't go screaming again.»

Zoro pulls Luffy off from you, handing you a glass of Honey-water—just warm water with honey in it—urging you to drink it and ignoring your grimace of distaste.

Taking a seat of his own next to you again and taking a sip from his beer, Zoro still needs to think of a way to convince Luffy—now his Captain which he had sworn loyalty and devotion till death—to take you in the crew too.

Zoro wasn't a man to break a promise, but he also wouldn't leave you alone. So either he finds a way of agreement or he had to cut something off.

« I will be your first mate if [Name]'s joining too.»

In confusion you turned to Zoro. Have you missed out that much while being in your low-sugar daze? It seems like it apparently.

«What can he do?» the question was more direct at you than Zoro.

Your mind goes blank, starring down at your glas. What can you do? A good question which you had asked yourself more than once.

You knew the basic of Swordsmanship, carrying even one with you, thank to Zoro. You know how to defend yourself in a fight, but still you weren't quite sure what exactly you can do or what you're good at. What your qualification is to be deemed part of a crew.

«Uhm, I'm a dancer?» you mumbled out, more question itself than answer.

«Just a dancer?»

«Yes. Just a dancer.»

Luffy smiled at you and somehow you knew this was his approval.

~~~

Knowing that you are together with Zoro—who's moronic, sword and violence obsessed and has non sense of direction—in love even, did stirred something in Sanji—something of low bubbling and emotional anger. Jealousy even.

Back then, when you and the others had stepped into the Barite, Sanji had recognised you on first glance—he simply never couldn't forget the person he had been supposed to marry, the person who had been, even if it was for a short time, his first friend.

Though while he remembers you, you didn't—greeting and treating him politely like you would with a stranger. So—after his joining to the crew and after helping Nami—he chatted you up, ignoring the always scrutinising gaze of Zoro and started to befriend you (again). Which had been a success.

Since they are currently docking at Water Seven, which means a longer stay as good old Flying-Lamb had to undergo some massive maintenance and repairs—which she needed and deserved, because Lammy had been carrying them through this route of rough sea.

A longer stay also means, Sanji could try to win your affection, to whoop you into his arms and love.

Now, don't get him wrong, Sanji does still love Women's—all of them as they are all beauties and to be treated with chivalry love and affection—but you're technically, in a sense, his. You belong to him, you two were meant to be married—if of course, Sanji hadn't fleet from his birth-home back then, though he had reason for it.

Sanji knew how to, probably—a chance of fifty percent—bring your heart back to him. One of his ever first "cakes", it was more of an messy almost soupy pudding, which he had baked for you. Albeit a bit salty, you said you liked the taste and since you had an problem with sugar—neither too much nor too little would be good for you—a nice sugary salt mix, with a hint of (f. flavour) was exactly what's to be needed for a successful heart winning.

~~~

The blinding rays of the sun now being blocked off by your back, causing a shadow. Tall as you were, which was quite the height and Luffy—you silly precious Captain—liked to climb on your back or shoulders and misusing you as a lookout pole, you loomed over Zoro.

«What is it?» he didn't open his eyes, grumbling the words out, making his point clear that you were interrupting his sleep—more like constant naps.

«You said you're going with me into the City and look for some weapons which could be, make me, useful» you said, crouching down now.

Zoro mured something, in an instant grabbing your arms and pulling you against him, in his lap. You were sure you will get some bad neck cramps again.

«If I get cramps in my neck and back again, you're the one who's gonna massage them out,»

«Stop with your nonsense bullshit of not being useful. You are.»

You huffed at what he said, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrow in a disbelieving grimace.

Easy talk from your boyfriend there, who is an excellent swordsman and compared to you, you were a lousy nothing—who shouldn't be in a Crew, this Crew, at all as you didn't have any worthy qualifications or knowledge or experience.

You felt more than often out of place. Course you could hold your own in a fight, could defend yourself and others, but when it comes to terms of; Navigating, medical or general knowledge, cooking and craftsmanship—you're a very useless nobody.

So you thought, doing it often—the thinking—that if you find perhaps a weapon you would feel more confident with the right of staying.

You asked Zoro to accompany you on your little shopping trip and he said yes, but here you were—in your Boyfriends arms, because he deemed naps more important.

«You promised me, we're going. Zoro, I really want to be more of use and so finding a good weapon is good start, isn't it?»

«I know what I said, but I also told many times before.»

And he did told you. Years of being together, it was like a constant repeat of the same words. Zoro was right, your brain just doesn't register it at all, seeding more doubt than—what did the others once told you? Aah yes—self-love.

A mere and simple dancer is what you are. Nothing more and nothing less. Just a dancer. No use in a pirate crew, because what could a dancer do? Nothing.

«Ya know, since ya so damn pessimistic, I'm just gonna give ya your present now.» Zoro moves you asides from his lap, standing up and going into the mans quarters.

It wasn't long till Zoro returned, an object warped with cloths in his hands. Zoro sits down again, handing you the so called present.

You gave him a curious look, presents weren't a common thing in your relationship—sure, a bottle of quality Sake for Zoro and for you a bag of mixed (f. Candy) every now and then, when you two want to appreciate one another, but never presents—not even on your anniversary.

You opened it slowly, unwrapping it from the bandana—it wasn't a cloth like you assumed—which had the colour of (f.colour) and matches, colour wise, with Zoro's green bandana.

A Fan, beautiful design on it and with razor sharp blades it was.

It makes sense now, whenever Zoro told you; that even a mere dancer can be a strong fighter.

~~~

Around afternoon Sanji had returned back to ship. Walking just a tad faster, couldn't wait to be back in his kitchen—his little empire—and making you the salty cake.

Sanji would make it grand, decorating it with some sugar sweets.......and oh.

Stopping in his tracks, Sanji glanced over at you and Zoro. The two of you napping against the railing and even though you're the tallest, you're the one which laid in Zoro's arms. Looking at peace, so tranquility like.

Sanji pretends to never have seen the matching Bandanas you two wore now.

Sanji should have known better, shouldn't have made himself such delusional hopes.

Because Sanji was just a friend and Zoro your love which your heart desires.

Truly delusional. A fool.

[heehoonieluvs]

I forgot

Heeseung x reader

Angst, fluff, smut

The way that the members are depicted in this story has nothing to do with how they really are or how I feel they are. It is all solely for the storyline so please bear that in mind 🫶

Summary: Y/N had been waiting her entire career for this moment but her loving bf Heeseung is no where to be seen

F/N = female name

Warnings: MDNI, cursing, oral (f receiving), ass play (f receiving), squirting, daddy kink, use of pet names (please do let me know if I need to add more warnings 🤍)

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

Tonight was the most important day for my career and it was only an hour till I had to arrive at the venue. All of these years that I had spent chasing my dream was finally going pay off. I was so excited yet nervous to show my friends and family what I had worked so hard for but I was especially excited to spend tonight with my amazing boyfriend Heeseung who had been nothing but supportive of my journey throughout our relationship. He had only just come back from tour a few days ago but he had been in and out due to his busy schedules as he had also just released his first ever collab with F/N.

I checked my watch once again. Why isn't he here yet? He hasn't texted or called at all today. Is he okay? I texted him again but got no response. I felt so upset and hurt that he hadn't even bothered to tell me what was happening even though he knew how much I was looking forward to tonight. Maybe he forgot? No he couldn’t have…

Just then, I got a text from my manager saying that my ride was waiting outside for me. I sighed and left, hoping that he was just late and would turn up to the event later.

Time skip

I looked around the venue, searching to see if Heeseung turned up. My manager said that there was no sign of him and he had not been responding to any of her messages. At this point I started to get pissed off. All these years that we had been together, I was there for him for everything. If he needed me there, I was there. No matter how big or how small the event, I was there. The one day I needed him there for me, he didn’t bother to turn up. I fought back the stinging tears that had threatened to fall and put on a smile as the awards started.

When the host announced my name, I felt an overwhelming amount of happiness inside of me. I gave my speech, thanking people that had helped me through everything. Just then the thought of Heeseung came up, reminding me that he had never turned up to witness this moment. I wrapped up my speech and quickly returned to my seat where I could see my manager and colleagues coming up to me. They all congratulated me and returned to their designated places, leaving me with my manager. I could tell that she knew what I was thinking and gave me a sympathetic smile.

"I know you're hurt that Heeseung isn't here, but just remember how strong you are and now you can show everyone that doubted you just how amazing you are."

"Thank you so much. I guess I just feel more disappointed at the fact that he never bothered to tell me what was going on."

"I know sweetie but he may have his reasons. Just live in the moment now and don’t let this tamper your special night"

I smiled at her feeling slightly better as a brushed aside the horrible feeling in my guts.

Time skip

I slammed the door shut and threw off my heels and jacket. Still no sign of Heeseung and it was way past the time that he usually came back. I shuffled my way towards the kitchen and went on my phone.

I scrolled through my social media accounts to kill time till he came back. Just then, I saw a news article from a few minutes ago saying LEE HEESEUNG AND F/N SPOTTED KISSING AT A PARTY. I opened the link, dreading whatever was about to pop up. The photos that came up gave me a shock as I looked at them. There were photos of them holding hands, cuddling, enjoying their time with their team. The last ones shocked me the most of them looking like they were kissing behind a tall plant and another with them on a balcony, supporting a shirtless Heeseung. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read through the blog. All this time I had spent worrying about him ended up being because he was spending time snuggling up with F/N. After F/N and her boyfriend had broken up days before, I had noticed that Heeseung had been going out more. I had never doubted Heeseung and I's relationship but this just made me feel betrayed, especially since he had missed today for it. I didn't want to believe that he had been cheating as I knew that he and F/N weren't the type of people to do such thing, so I shut off my phone and put on a film to gather my thoughts and think of how I’d confront him.

As soon as my eyes started to droop, I heard the familiar jingle of keys coming from the front door. Knowing who was on the other side, I ignored it and carried on watching the tv. When he walked in and spotted me, his entire face lifted, almost making me forget about how upset I was with him. He came over to me with open arms completely oblivious to the current situation.

"Baby! I missed you so much" he said as he came towards me, leaning in for a kiss.

When I saw it coming I moved away from him, leaving him confused as to why I was acting so cold towards him.

"What's the matter baby? Did I do something wrong?". He asked so many questions but I rolled my eyes and turned towards the screen.

"Babe, why are you dressed like that? Are you going out?"

If looks could kill, he was sure that he’d be 6 feet under right now. It took a second for the realisation to kick in before his face filled with guilt.

"Oh my god baby I'm so sorry. I-I completely forgot" he stuttered "I know nothing that I'll do or say can make up for this but I really did not realise. Please let me make it up to you?"

"Are you serious right now Heeseung? I cannot believe you" I shouted.

A flash of hurt came on his face as I said his name. I never called him that unless something was really wrong. He knew that this wasn't gonna be as easy as it usually is. He couldn't think of anything to say as all he wanted was to make his baby feel happy again. To see her beautiful face light up with her precious smile.

"You knew how much this day meant for me. I have always found a way to turn up to your events no matter what to support you yet the one time I wanted you here for me, you didn't even bother. I feel like I'm never important to you and I'm not even in the top 10 of your priorities. I don’t want to sound selfish but not once have I ever asked for anything in return yet you completely forget about my existence." I said with so much hurt in my voice. It made Heeseung’s heart hurt even more hearing it.

"Baby, please. Of course you're important to me. You're the most important thing in my entire life, don't ever say that you are any less. I know that I forgot about today and I'm an absolute idiot for not remembering but don't think that I don't care about you because that is not true at all."

I scoffed "Really? Because it doesn't seem that way since you've spent the day snuggling with F/N"

A look of confusion came upon his face once again "What do you mean?"

"Are you serious? I'm not stupid. I saw those pictures of you two together so don't start acting like you're so oblivious to this whole situation."

"Baby it wasn't what it looked like." He said panicking. He knew that there were photos taken but he didn't want people to take it the wrong way. He loved you more than anything and the photos taken manipulated what people saw to made it look a lot worse than it really was.

"That's what they all say Heeseung" I whispered, lowering my gaze towards my fidgeting fingers.

He sighed “Baby I know how those photos may have looked but I promise you, we only hugged once and it was after F/N’s manager made a toast to congratulate us on our collab.”

In a way I could understand that the whole purpose of the news article was to stir drama but it still didn’t explain everything.

“Okay. So how come this gathering just happened to be on the very night that you knew would happen for months? How come you were shirtless around F/N looking all cozy and shit.” All of the thoughts that had clouded my brain just spilled out my mouth like word vomit.

Heeseung had all the answers to your questions and was willing to explain everything to you. He already knew he was walking on eggshells and needed you to understand that he could never betray you in any way.

“I know I know princess, I should’ve remembered to keep this day free but it was a surprise set up by both F/N and my managers and they took me straight from dance practice. As for me being shirtless, I had just been pushed into the pool and was waiting for my shirt to dry. I know this all sounds like I��m just trying to make excuses but I promise bubba, everything that was shown in that news article was taken completely out of context.”

“And what about the two of you apparently kissing then?”

“Y/N I swear on Ddongsik that pic is absolutely bullshit. We were just having a conversation but it was taken from a weird angle.”

“Excuse me. Don’t bring my baby into this, he has no part in our drama.”

Heeseung chuckled “Ok I’m sorry princess but that’s the only way I can prove to you that everything I’m telling you is the truth.”

“I don’t know Heeseung. It’s just really hard for my to believe after you’ve been out so often and barely sparing me a glance whenever we have a bit of time together”

I could feel his soft fingers lift my chin up to look at him as he pressed his lips on mine. His love radiating, slightly melting the cold facade that I was putting up.

"No baby, you don't understand. Nothing happened between F/N and I, you can ask Jake. I just wanted to make sure that she was okay as she had been going through a rough time with the break up and all. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was abandoning you but we’ve all been on alert since F/N didn’t seem like she had taken her break up well"

"I guess that makes sense and I trust you two. But with all of this and the recent comeback, I just can't help but feel insecure when everywhere I go, it's plastered with you guys."

"I'm so sorry baby. I know that's it's been hard for you but trust me when I say that I only want you. You're the one who I want to marry, have kids with and spend the rest of my life with. I can't see that with anyone else. I've been such a horrible boyfriend and I don't deserve an angel like you."

Seeing how distraught he was, I couldn’t help but reach out and embrace him

"Baby don't say that, you're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for."

"No, I missed the most important day of my princess’s career and made her upset. I cannot blame you for being mad at me. If I saw pictures of you with another guy, I’d be so pissed and I never wanna see my baby looking at another man with those gorgeous eyes. I cannot express in words how apologetic I am but I'm so sorry and I'll say it over and over again if it means that you'll forgive me"

"Baby you don't need to. I forgive you okay." I replied, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. As I moved back, he whined chasing my lips.

"One more please?" He begged

I giggled, making him smile so bright and leaned in for another kiss. Unlike before, Heeseung was more handsy, caressing every fibre of my body that he could reach. He slipped his tongue out to trace my bottom lip, silently asking permission for me to open my mouth. However, I decided to tease him and keep my mouth shut which caused him to whine and pull me closer. He then grabbed me by my waist and pulled me till I straddled his lap. He then reached down and grabbed a handful of my ass, causing me to gasp and give him enough time to sneak his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues caressed each others making us moan. He sucked on my tongue and groaned as I grinded onto his dick.

"Fuck baby." He moaned "You're making me so fucking hard right now. No one can ever make me feel like this. Only you princess."

He moved his mouth to my neck and sucked on my sweet spot, making me moan his name.

"God baby, say my name like that again" He said as he rubbed my clit through the lace of my thong.

I moaned his name over and over again as his started to rub even harder and faster.

"That's right baby. That's my good babygirl"

He lifted my dress over my head, leaving me in my black lace thong. Grabbing my boobs he leaned in and sucked on my nipples as he pulled my thong aside and rubbed my clit, rolling it between his fingers.

"Oh my god baby that feels so good" I moaned into his ear.

Then I could feel his finger entering my pussy and he started to pump it in and out.

"That's right babygirl. You're dripping all over daddy's fingers aren't you? You're such a good girl."

He carried on fingering me as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear. His palm rubbed on my clit every time he pumped his fingers.

"Climb up baby, I want your juicy pussy to drip on my mouth. Let daddy have a taste" he said whilst licking his lips.

I climbed up and hovered over his face, letting him marvel at the sight of my juices dripping out from my pussy.

"That's it princess, give that juicy pussy to daddy. I wanna drink up every bit of you" he growled as he reached up for your ass to pull you down.

Being the tease that I was, I shimmied down slowly, taunting him, causing him to whine and try to stretch his neck to reach it.

"Come on princess, let daddy make you feel good"

As I lowered my pussy onto his mouth, he quickly grabbed my thighs, forcing me to grind my pussy onto his face. The vibrations of his moans went to my pussy causing me to grind down harder onto his tongue and let it fuck me deeper. He ate my pussy like a starved man shaking his head to get deeper. The pleasure was too much and I tried to get up a bit to let him breathe but he growled like a wild animal and pulled me back down to his greedy mouth.

“Don’t even think about moving away from me beautiful.”

He then started to move to my clit to suck and lick over it and move back to bury his tongue in my pussy. He repeated the process until I felt myself getting closer.

"Oh daddy I'm gonna cum. Please let me come."

"Yes that's it baby. Come in daddy's mouth" he growled. He brought his fingers up and started fingering me. He curled his fingers and started hitting my g spot. I moaned so loud, addicted to the pleasure that he was giving me. "Come on princess, you know what daddy wants you to do. Squirt your delicious juices everywhere. Soak daddy's face, I wanna drink you up."

He carried on fingering my g spot as his sucked hard on my clit. Then I felt an overwhelming feeling of pleasure as I squirted all over his face. He moaned as he sucked on my pussy, lapping up my juices. I carried on grinding on his face to ride out my orgasm as he greedily carried on eating me out.

"More baby. I wanna take all of it. Give it to me."

I whined as I felt my pussy getting sensitive. "But daddy, let me make you feel good. I wanna suck your dick."

"No baby" he responded "tonight is about you. I want you to come all over my face till you can't take it anymore and you're begging for me to stop."

"Please daddy? Just a little taste?" I asked in my cutest voice with the most adorable pout that I could muster.

But as much as Heeseung wanted to fuck your cute little mouth, he wanted to taste you all night and not stop. He was so addicted to you and needed to have your taste on his mouth.

"Daddy said no princess. Another time. Now let me eat your pussy again". And with that he pulled me down so my shoulders were on his lap and my legs were over his shoulders.

His face hovered over my pussy and he looked greedily like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. He observed the way my pussy glistened and how it clenched tightly from the intensity of the previous orgasm. He also observed how my asshole looked so inviting, tempting him to have a taste. He they dived in with his tongue and once again started tongue fucking my pussy. The new position caused so much more pleasure, making my eyes roll back. As he shook his head and sucked my clit, he looked at me with so much love and lust. We held our gaze as he stopped and moved back. I was about to complain but stopped and gasped when he stuck his tongue out and dipped it into my asshole. As he fucked his tongue in my puckered hole deeper, I could feel it wriggle inside me, making me moan even louder. I could feel him smile as he ate my ass out. If that wasn't enough he started to nod his head as he licked all the way from my ass to my clit over and over again. He did that for a while and went back to tongue fucking my ass. He could see my pussy clenching as I tried to hold back my orgasm but he wasn't having it. So he brought his hand up and started to rub my clit fast as his other kept me balance and close to his talented mouth. I carried on screaming, not caring if others could hear. Heeseung was so turned on and was desperate to taste you again.

"Come on baby. That's it. Squirt for daddy again. Yes. Yes. YES!" He screamed as you showered his face. At once he drank up your juice, not letting any go to waste. He held you close as he buried his face, not wanting you to get away from him. "God princess, you're so fucking sexy, squirting on daddy's face. Are you okay?"

My heart melted at his concern wondering how he could be so perfect "Yes daddy"

He let me down so I could sit on his lap as he held me like a baby, his baby. As he stroked my back, he littered my face with tiny pecks, causing me to giggle. I buried my face into his neck whilst he hummed into my ear.

"I really am sorry baby. If I have to I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you" he whispered in my ear.

I looked up to him and kissed his pouting lips "No need to baby, it's over and done with now. I love you"

"I love you too baby"

…

"So can I suck your dick now daddy" I asked in a cute voice, looking at him like a puppy.

He grinned back at me "You're gonna be the death of me you cheeky little monster"

Let's just say that I got a lot more than I bargained for that night... or maybe week 😏😉

Author’s note: Thank you so much for taking the time to read my ff, I hope you enjoyed it. I know this is quite all over the place in terms of who’s speaking but I’m aware that my writing isn’t the greatest 😅 please look forward to more works in the future and don’t be afraid to give me some “inspiration” for future smut and for which members 🤭

[world-of-aus]

All I'll Ever Need

Pairing: Bull Rider!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I've been in my cowboy, bullrider funk and I needed this out! I hope you all enjoy this piece, as always happy reading! Now back to my dark cave, I go.

It’s a high live event tonight, the grounds large enough for not only the main attraction bull riding, but the other rodeo sports being held this evening. You work your way through the crowd, the boy on your hip wiggling around in hopes to get higher to spot his father over the large crowd. You hike the brown haired, grey-eyed boy higher on your hip, the excitement coursing through his tiny body as you cross the arena grounds. Natasha and Wanda had texted you minutes prior after having parked the truck that they had just barely managed to secure the four of you good seats in the stands overlooking the ground.

Squeezing your way through the masses your feet meet the stands wooden stairs, you climb them carefully till your standing on the landing looking left then right as you look for your group. “Look!” Your attention is directed by the six-year-old over to the farthest corner on the right, Wanda and Natasha waving at the two of you wildly with their hats, Bucky standing tall behind them on the iron gates.

Grant snatches the hat that matches his dad’s off his head, waving it around just as wildly as his aunts. A sharp whistle pierces the air the boy’s eyes snapping past the awaiting women to the matching pair of cerulean blue waiting for him, how he hadn’t seen his father yet surprises you, but the boy becomes a bucking bronco in your hold till you’re releasing him from your grip. His form slips from your body as he runs through the stands to where his father awaits perched.

You chase after him, excusing yourself past the other patrons already in their seats. Natasha waits for the tiny brunette who is feet ahead of you with open arms, his body falling into his aunts hold as she hoists him high, his hat surpassing the both of them as he lets out a squeal of joy. He reaches for his father next, who takes him in even stronger arms squeezing his son to his broad chest.

You nearly falter in your steps at the sight, your heart racing, body warming at the sight before you. The bond the two shared was unlike any other you had experienced. Bucky Barnes had a hard time believing he could be the father his son needed when his mother just up and left two months into Grants first year of life, but he had proven himself wrong time and time again. There’s amazement in Grants eyes and love in Buckys as he explains to his son all about the ongoing events.

You close the distance saddling up next to Natasha as you hear Bucky’s promise to Grant to take him riding for the first time this week that he had off. “I’m all your’s bud, whaddya say? Uncle Steve and Sam can help too, aunt Wanda and Natasha can bring your favorite snacks.”

“Can y/n come too daddy, can she!” Bucky’s eyes find yours, pink lips curling into a breathtaking smile. “Of course she can bud,” he replies eyes never leaving yours, “that’s of course if she wants, think she might need a break from us boys bud, you’ve get her chasing you all day.”

Your lips curl in return, “I haven’t missed one of his firsts yet Barnes, don’t plan on doing so anytime soon. You can count me in, besides there’s no one I love to chase more.” A squeal of joy erupts from the smaller long-haired brunette and you’re just barely moving forward to catch his form as he jumps at you, his hat knocking yours clean off your head. Small but mighty arms wrap around your neck, his round cheeks smushing against yours as he thanks you profusely, promising you bouts of fun. Bouts of fun that you knew no matter what would be delivered. You’d spend the rest of your days with the Barnes boys if life itself allowed it.

The world melts away in the hug, your focus solely on the boy in your arms as you squeeze him just as tightly to you. “You going to show your dad how it’s done, how the real cowboys ride?” you question in a teasing tone as you pull back to look at the boy. The excitement he lets out draws a laugh from your group, “he’s going to be a hell of a lot better than I am that’s for sure.” Bucky chuckles, your eyes find his, “If he is, it’s only because he has a pretty awesome father to thank, give yourself credit B, you’re doing an amazing job with little man here.”

You don’t think you’ll ever tire catching the moments Bucky goes bashful under your gaze, the only sign that the man before you could feel the same, well as for what your friend's turned family all say. The brunette goes to reply but Steve is calling for him over his shoulder; his turn was coming around. You wave at the bearded dirty-blonde, grant following suit the hat coming too as he waves it around. You move forward into Bucky’s space to say your goodbye’s, grants arms going around his father as he gives him a tight squeeze. When the two pull away you fall in next, your arm that isn’t holding grant going around Bucky’s back, “you better be safe out there B,” you murmur into his ear, “you’ve got a little one that’s going to be watching your every move.” His chuckle rumbles deep within his chest, fingers curling tighter into your skin as he squeezes you much like his son, “is he the only one that’s going to be watching me ride tonight?”

The pinch you deliver to Bucky’s back has the broad-shouldered brunette pulling back that same chuckle bubbling out of his chest this time. “don’t be a smart-ass B, I’m being serious be safe out there.” His hand finds yours fingers curling with your own, lips meeting your intertwined fingers, “riding bulls is in my blood sweetheart you know I’ll be careful.”

“James Buchanan Barnes I’m being serious.”

His grin is heart melting as he pulls you and Grant back in, squeezing the two of you before placing a kiss to the side of your head. “I promise, I’m coming out of those gates to you.” His words stall your heart, but you tell yourself he’s not coming for you, he’s coming for the son you hold, his boy, his whole world. You let him go with Grant yelling for his dad to be careful, Bucky sends him a wave over his shoulder as he moves over to the gates Steve and Sam wait for him by. You take your seat between Natasha and Wanda settling Grant on your legs as you let him watch the current rider burst through the farthest Gate. Grant is lost in the show, his eyes bright as he watches the rider hold strong to the bull.

“Don’t know how much more proof you need.” Your eyes flit over to the blonde sitting next to you, “proof?” you question. A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, “yeah, proof to see that that man by those gates is just as taken with you as you are with him.” You snort eyes gliding over to said man that stands at the farthest bucking chute awaiting his turn. There’s a snorting angry bull just below him, but his eyes are on you, your retort gets stuck on your tongue. Steve’s passing him his protective headgear an exchange for the hat he wore on his head. He sends you a final wink before placing the helmet on and falling over the bull who only bucks harder with his added weight.

Your heart races away in your chest as you watch him get into position, one hand going just above his head as the other laces its way around the rope tied to the bull. A buzzer goes off somewhere in the air, the gate slams open the bull racing out. Grants high on his feet as he watches his dad, fingers curled around the railing as he watches. You didn’t even notice the boy crawl off your lap your own breath caught in your throat as you watch that bull buck for his life to get Bucky off of him. Just 8 seconds you think as you push to your feet standing behind grant, just 8 seconds, hold on, hold on, hold on....

The air is electric as the buzzer goes off, patrons flying from seats to cheer Bucky on just as he falls from the bull, the clowns running in to get him out. Grant can hardly wait to get to his father once he’s getting out of the main arena. He’s grabbing your hand pulling, barely giving you a chance to tell the girls where you’re going, though they already know.

You follow the brown-haired boy as he tugs your through the stands, getting you two down on the ground before racing his way to where he knows he’ll find his dad and uncles. The crowd on the dirt ground clears, Grant seeing Bucky ways ahead laughing with his uncles. His hand falls away from yours the boy barreling with all his might towards the three men his fathers names falling from his lips to grab his attention. The three men turn to the barreling boy, Bucky moving forward to meet his boy halfway.

You slow your steps watching the two reunite Bucky lifting Grant in the air as he pulls his son in. Natasha and Wanda catch up to you, linking their arms with yours as they pull you forward. Steve and Sam move also, your group, your family moving closer as you close the distance. Hugs are shared as you finally greet Sam and Steve, “good to see you sweetheart!” Steve greets as he pulls you in for a hug

You pinch Steve in the ribs as if you hadn’t seen him earlier in the morning when you went to help Bucky with a still sleeping Grant. “You saw me this morning Steve,” you laugh, “it’s good to see you too though.”

“Move it over Rogers, favorite coming through,” Sam says as he pulls the bearded blonde coming in for a hug of his own. A wet kiss is pressed to your cheek, “Sammy,” you breathe squeezing the man just as tight, “always so good to see you!” Sam's grinning, "see," he tells the group, "favorite." Wanda moves in when you pull away her lips finding Sam's, "everyone knows Grant is y/n's favorite," she laughs as she pulls away, "but you're mine." Your group coo's at the two, Steve holding Nat under his arm, Sam holding Wanda, "Grant's not the only Barnes that y/n favors," Natasha grins.

You want to roll your eyes at her attempt, but the strong arm falling over your shoulder has you biting your tongue. You look over at the bearded brunette who's already looking right back at you, holding the bright boy who holds your heart, "good thing she's our favorite too." You could out yourself now to the man holding you protectively under his arm but you bite your tongue instead leaning further into his touch. His lips find the side of your head, "we should go catch the rest of the rides," Steve mentions, "we've gotta go check the trailers locked though," Bucky answers.

"Why don't you and y/n go check," Natasha offers, already moving forward to grab Grant, "we'll stop at the concessions first, save y’all a seat." They leave you no space for argument as Natasha urges your group to go, "see you in a bit," she calls over her shoulder, "take all the time you need!"

You inwardly groan at their antics, Bucky chuckles pulling you with him, "C'mon sweetheart, let's go check that trailer." You let him whisk you along the arena grounds, the feeling of being under his arm all consuming, it felt right, it felt like the two of you belonged, though there was never a moment in the years that you've know Bucky that being with him didn't feel right.

Then why couldn't it have been you?

Why her?

"You know," Bucky starts suddenly as he turns you towards the lot that holds the trailers, "you really are our favorite." You glance up at him smile on your lips as you continue to walk further into the lot, "that so B?"

He nods, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smile, "how could you not be," he answers, "know you almost my whole life, you've stuck with me through it all even those moments you didn't need to, seen me at my worst and never thought to hell with this and walked away from me because nothing was tying you to me. If anything you grabbed my hand held tight and dragged me from the fire and Grant, god with Grant - I - I could never express how grateful I am for you, you took up a responsibility you didn't ask for, helped me raise a boy that wasn't yours. You never gave up on us."

You're glad you've come up to his trailer because his words have you halting in your step, your body stopping his from going any further. You turn to face him, "And I would do it all over if I had to," you respond with conviction, "you, Grant, you both mean the world to me. There's nothing you could ask of me that I wouldn't do for you. For either of you. You've been my best friend for years, stood with me as well when I needed you." He shakes his head the two of you knowing that statement isn't all true especially when Dolores had been in the picture, but you couldn't bring yourself to blame him, not now, not then. He was in love, and he thought she was too. He thought she was the one, you all did.

"I could have been better to you, after all you've done for me, for us."

You're shaking your head in return, your hand coming up to rest against his stubbled cheek. An act you've done before that feels so different now. "You were what I needed when I needed you to be B, I was in no position to ask more of you. All I knew was that when the time came I wanted to return that favor, I wanted to be what you needed." It falls silent between the two of you, eyes locked on one another in a gaze that you aren't sure you'd ever say Bucky Barnes would look at you with.

Strong warm hands come up to cup your cheeks, your breath is stolen in a moment. "Sweetheart - you're all I ever needed, I just didn't think I deserved someone like you, but the more time I spend with you, the more time I see you with Grant - I want to be that someone, I don't want to waste anymore time just being your friend."

You've lost count of how often Bucky has left you speechless, so you do what you've only ever dreamed of doing. Curling your fingers into the lapels of his shirt, you tug him closer, your lips finding his in an all-consuming kiss.

You didn't want to waste any more time either.

[cookie-crumblr]

Hype Train!

F!Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 6~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, pet names (pretty, baby, pretty girl), ML calls self “daddy”( lemme know if y’all are into it or not XD), Descriptions of Sadistic violence, implications of past SA, gore, blood, torture live stream, Oral on m, live stream exhibitionism, long part, smutt sat the end!

AN: Sorry this one took longer than usual, i wrote like 11 different drafts and didn’t like any of them XD finally got to lucky number 12 and bam, let’s goooaaaarrrrr 🐶✨

“Isn’t it way too soon though…?” You ask in a slightly joking voice, not wanting to sound stressed.

It definitely stressed you out though.

You’re finally thinking somewhat rationally now. Asking yourself all those questions you should have asked that that first day he arrived for example…

How did he find you?

How did he get here?

What on earth did he do with Jared’s body?

Is he going to get away with that? How?

And How can he be so… Fine, after Murdering someone.

And those are just the ones you can think of off the top of your head before he responds.

“What?” He runs a hand through his bangs, “You sayin’ you’d rather stay in this danger infested shithole than come back w’ me?”

You try and pipe up, “N-no… That’s not what i’m saying at all, Jasper…” but you lose your voice at least halfway through.

A fear you’ve never even fathomed creeps it’s way into your soul.

“ ‘S what it sounds like, pretty.” Jasper’s voice is frigid.

This stings you more than anything ever has… You completely let your guard down to him. You actually trust him.

“Jasper, I am NOT saying that. I just think it’s way too soon for me to move in with you. I still have to pay off next month, not to mention breakin’ my lease, an I d-don’t know—”

His whole demeanor reverts in a terrifying instant. His eyes filling back up with adoration, “m’sorry, pretty girl. I’ll take care of everything and make up f’r twistin’ your words like that.” He sighs relieved, “I should’ve known that was the reason.”

It’s not the whole reason…

But you think better of adding anymore fuel to those embers, and possibly burning down the whole forest around you.

He fishes out an old looking phone, “Dev, get the delivery van ready. Sendin’ ya some coords.” While he’s closing the door and locking it behind him.

You stand there dumbfounded.

“W-wait! Jasper?!” You put on the first pair of shoes you see and run after him. He’s only on the first set of stairs going down when he hears you, and turns to wait while you re-lock the door.

“Ahh, y’wanna come watch daddy work, hm? Is that it, pretty baby?” He smirks.

You can’t tell if he’s serious, but you become bashful nonetheless. “Uh… Sh-sure! W-wait. What— what are you…? Where are you…?” your brain short circuits as you try and figure out where to even start.

He slings the bag over a shoulder, then reaches up to cradle your cheek in his palm. “’m kiddin’, pretty, let me take care ‘f it. I’ll bring ya a souvenir.” He winks, his pupils almost completely eclipse the beautiful icy blue of his irises. He looks so different right now. You can’t honestly tell what emotion he’s full of, but it sends a chill down your spine regardless.

You nod, nuzzling your face deeper into his palm and kissing his skin.

“Kay, please just… stay safe… I love you, Jasper,”

“I love you, pretty girl” he purrs, then bumps his forehead to yours. “Stay inside till I get back. I need ya t’ skip work if ‘m not back yet. ‘kay pretty? I know you wanna do all this on your own, and I need ya t’ trust me, lemme take care of you right now”

With slightly stinging eyes, you nod.

“‘At’s m’ good girl,” He presses forward, his lips barely touch yours in such a sweet gesture it makes your heart flutter.

How this guy can make you feel every emotion, and every feeling in all the books is beyond you.

“Whaddo ya think, Issac… This one thinks he’s some sortta little cartel king.” Jasper coos teasingly. The edge of his blade tilting up the bound and gagged man’s chin, with the tip dangerously close to puncturing that delicate little artery. “Thinkin extorting helpless lil ladies makes him s’m kinda badass,” His smile drips with malice.

“Oooh! Oh! I like the snitch treatment!” Issac excitedly hops over to Jasper’s side. His own blade glinting in the dim van lights as he waves it around.

“Be careful with that, would ya?” Dev.In snaps lovingly, as they lean against the opposite wall with their arms crossed.

“What do you think little king? Want your tongue cut out, n’ getting throat fuck by my knives?” He pauses as if to think, “or would you prefer ‘f I carved ya a pussy of your own? I could bring ya t’ that little place you like to send all those nice young ladies… Whats it called again?” He grins.

“OH OH OH! I KNOW THAT ONE! Me! Pick me!!” Issac raises his hand like an excited kid in school, “The pit!!!”

“mmhm! that’s it, I’m sure those clients of yours would have so much fun with a big boss like you all chained up… They’d prolly pay big bucks too,” The knife *shings* as he pulls it out from under the struggling man’s chin.

“Ooo! Jasper yur a genius! Can I change my vote!?!?” He raises his hand and waves it around as if he’s a kid voting on the family car trip to stop for candy.

“What do you think Dev?” Jasper looks over his shoulder to the body double with glowing eyes.

“I polled the viewers already. Overwhelming majority favor him getting his own cunt,”

“Well would ya look at that… I guess it’s time for a song change then.” Jasper turns off the music completely, looking directly at the man.

You fell asleep who knows how long ago on top of your blankets, and awake to the feeling of the bed shifting with a new body’s weight.

You feel scared at first, before it quickly morphs into joy.

It’s dark in the room now, but you reach up and hug them. “J-Jasper?” You whisper sleepily.

“‘Yes, pretty. I got cha some presents, though, I need ya ta just look, ‘nd not touch the first one.” He gets back up to turn on the colored room lights, “The second one’s all yours.”

They’re both in cute boxes covered in a cat print with little bows in your favorite color.

“Which ones which??” You ask.

“Here, pretty… remember, only look…”

You pull the ribbon, and your face drops when you take off the top.

You gag.

It’s… It’s a man’s…

Images of Jared’s concaved and bloody face, with a furious Jasper above him, flash behind your eyelids.

“W-Who? J-Jas—” Your body shakes as you swallow trying to hold in the rising bile.

“I know, pretty…” He pets you softly, “It’s a little hard to look at. but I wanted to give ya the proof that you’re free now.” He smiles calmly, his pupils are a normal size, you notice, even in the lower light.

“J-Jasper…” Your eyes are wide, but when he tells you that you’re free…

You can’t help feeling relieved.

“I d-don’t want to know what you d-did. Please don’t ever tell me…” You ask with a quiet voice before handing the closed box back. “Th-thank you Jasper.”

“‘f course, pretty girl,” he puts his hand back onto your head, his fingers trailing through your hair.

“mmmm,” Your eyes close for a second… “Wait!”

He pulls away with a smile on his face.

“D-do you wanna stream t’night?”

He licks his lips, “Why, pretty? Ya got plans f’me?”

“O—okay… C-close your eyes fora sec… And h-hit live, b-but wait t’start ”

“Oooo~ I like this already” His big grin shows off his long canines.

You put on a collar that Jared got you… You only kept it cause it’s cute.

You hope Jasper likes the idea though, and then he can get you a new one, and you can finally burn this one.

Trying to be stealthy and failing, you climb under your desk with a burning hot face.

Since he’s slouched pretty comfortably, his legs are already a little spread. You thank him for that in your head.

Your palms travel slowly up his thighs, stoping in his lap over his pants zipper and button.

This is a skill you hated having before, but you’re kind of excited to use it on him.

Your hands tremble slightly.

You look up to see a stupid smirk on his face, telling you he definitely knows what you’re about to do.

Maybe you’ll still surprise him.

You free his dick, your mouth falls agape never have actually looked at it this closely.

“When can I start, prettyy~” He almost sings.

You get comfortable between his legs, and rest your arms up on his thighs. “N-Now.”

Steeling your nerves you take a big breath, then you start by licking long strokes up his shaft. You feel his bulging veins against your sensitive muscle.

His leg twitches, making you a little more confident.

He doesn’t taste like the others. It’s not disgustingly salty at all, kinda just tastes like the rest of his skin. You sigh happily at that.

Flattening your tongue now to cover more area underneath his girth. While licking more eagerly, you’re getting more and more excited to please him with your mouth.

“Aw, Thanks,” He starts talking to the viewers. You look up and meet his eyes, “W-welcome back everyone, sorry it’s been a minute, my girl and I have been very busy the past couple days.”

You grab his cock in both hands, still having enough room for it, you wrap your lips around the tip too. Your lips have the perfect grasp on him, right under his glands. You suck hard, using your tongue to lick his tip while he’s inside your mouth to, and then expertly tug yourself off slowly with a loud *pop*.

Accidentally you tug on his piercing too, and he pushes his hips up.

“H-hey yurmomstinks, welcome back. S-sup, toxickitten.” His small stutters have you giddy, you really are doing it!

You made sure before hand he’s in the “just chatting” category, so you can reach up and grab one of his hands. You put his fingers under your collar to pull it.

“mmmhmmm,” he groans and looks back up at the chat, “U-uh, I-I’m good! How’re you, upset-b-beaver”

No other time that you’ve done this has ever turned you on… But you’re noticing yourself getting soaking wet.

More spurred on by your own body responding lewdly, you flatten your tongue under the tip, and open your mouth wide.

You look up to make sure he’s making eye contact, and breathe a big puff of hot air over it. Precum leaks out over his piercing and you savor it, it’s so much better than any other. You actually like the taste of his.

God, why is this making you so wet…

You close your eyes for a second, smiling and moaning.

His whole body shudders in response, you see his breathing becoming deeper, and his eyes are wide.

You aren’t aware, but he’s never enjoyed getting head this much either.

While he’s still staring into your eyes, you kiss his glands and give small little kitten licks there lovingly.

“A-ah um— Y-yeah, good for you m-man!” he clears his throat. “N-no! hah, um, yeah, I d-don’t know what we’re doing later, might get…” he takes a long breath “Chinese or… sss’mthin” The last part comes out slurring as if he’s drunk.

You are surprising him!! He wasn’t expecting this and you feel more and more in control and empowered as you go.

This is so exciting!

His face is getting so much redder everytime he looks down at you, and he really doesn’t want to pry his eyes away from you. It’s making you feel so warm and content.

“mmm y’taste so good Jasper…” You moan quietly, only for him to hear, as you take it into your mouth and relax your throat to go as deep as you can.

You almost touch base before pulling your head back.

You let your tongue become a bed for the underside of his length, then you go down further, touching your nose to his groin.

He sucks in suddenly.

“Uh-y-yeah, that, hah, movie n-nights are still thurs—days”

He remembers he’s holding your collar suddenly, having forgot all about anything other than your pretty, puffy lips taking care of his dick.

He pulls you by it gently at first, watching as your eyes close, enjoying him playing with you.

You pull back and breathe while you can, he pulls you back against his body and your airways get blocked.

“mm!” You moan, and gag not being able to breathe is usually so scary…

Usually.

But you trust Jasper, and this feels so hot…

He runs his fingers through your hair with his other hand, and continues talking to the viewers while you work him.

“Y-yeah, just like that,” He slips, a low moan leaving him, as he bites his lower lip, “Y-yeah, I mean,” He clears his throat again, “Y/Username is riiiight here. mmhmm. I’ll tell her y’all say hi,” His smug composure is quick to return, but it doesn’t discourage you.

You go down all the way, your nose pressing against his body, as his dick fills your throat.

You gag around his size, and tears stream down your face.

Hollowing your cheeks, you suck him with everything you’ve got.

He groans and his hips start jerking, chasing you as he gets higher and higher.

“Huh? O-oh, s-sure…”

Hearing his stuttering increase in frequency and feeling his cock twitch in your mouth you increase your speed, saliva runs down your chin.

“Mm!” He convulses not even worried about the chat anymore, and you suck as hard as you can.

“Ah! Y—Y/N!”

You take it as deep as you possibly can, and feel his burning hot cum shoot in thick streams down your throat you swallow around it making sure to hold his eyes with your own tear filled ones.

When you finally stop enjoying his powerless state of involuntary bouncing, while you keep sucking and overstimulating him, you remove yourself and open wide with your tongue out.

It shows him you swallowed every single drop.

He stares, mouth agape, as his mind stays utterly blown for a bit, until he reaches up and turns the stream off without saying a single word.

You beam full of pride, as he wipes at your tears.

[secondjulia]

Necessary but Stupid -> The StarvingArtist!Dream/Plasma AU You Didn't Request

UM. So. This was definitely just a weird little AU idea I had... definitely not while hooked up at csl daydreaming about Dream & Hob... that I was just going to dump in @gabessquishytum's Ask, as one does with weird little AU ideas. And then it kind of exploded. Into an actual story.

---Rated: G. Logistics in the tags. Ao3 link ---

There's no stopping the dark cloud that passes over Hob's head the moment he opens the door to the plasma center. But now he can smile brightly through it and let the storm blow quietly away. The dark memories this place holds still surface every time he walks in, but he's never once considered not going. Even though it's been ten years since Eleanor and the babe died of some rare blood condition that triggered childbirth complications, Hob's still there twice a week, every week, rain or shine.

He waves to the clerk at the desk. The security guard greets him with a comment about the latest football match, and Hob makes an appropriately pained, commiserating expression. He asks the technician taking his blood pressure how his honeymoon went — Côte d'Albâtre, right? — and Hob reminisces cheerily about his own trips to France.

Nobody’s ever exactly happy at the plasma center, but the sunny professor’s relentlessly friendly chatter brightens everyone’s day. All the staff know him by name, his surprisingly colorful stories can help pass the time on those long-line days, and his smile always lights up the room. 

Sure, Hob can be kind of opinionated — like whenever he declares that death is stupid and nobody should have to die of preventable diseases! Everyone just goes along with it, and it’s so cruel! (Nobody actually disagrees, but he is very vocal about it.) The first time he said this — sitting hunched with downcast eyes, just weeks after his wife’s death — his voice was soft with hopelessness, and it cracked as he held back tears. But ten years later, when people ask him why he’s still doing this when he’s a tenured professor with a summer cottage and a retirement plan, Hob declares jovially that death is stupid! Nobody has to die when he can give them something they need from his own arms — it’s a renewable resource! 

Hob, it cannot be said enough, brightens everyone's day — usually.

But not today. Not everyone's.

Dream cannot believe the insufferable words coming out of this man’s mouth. It's the first day Dream’s set foot in this particular center, and he already wants to go home. 

But home is the problem. Dream's new apartment is much cheaper than the building that just evicted him, but this latest series of paintings are taking far longer to complete than he'd hoped. And also, the art world just fucking sucks. Dream can't fool himself. Even when the paintings are ready, it's unlikely they'll sell well enough or soon enough to plug the gaps in his income. 

For years, Dream played the whole shitty-jobs roulette to support his art, but ever since he was kidnapped and spent years in a glass cage in a basement, he can’t even manage that. Seriously, try explaining that kind of resumé gap to a job interviewer. When he does manage to get work, it always goes bad fast. Dream wasn’t exactly totally undamaged before, but now he feels like he's all scars.

Dream is not here by choice. He cannot imagine who would be. 

He'd gone to his old plasma center for years — till he was forced to move — in order to make ends meet. Today, he's here to fill in the glaring gap between the meager payment he got for a small watercolor last January, his savings, and a near-maxed-out credit card. (Nearly maxed out in the hasty scramble to get to a cheaper place to live. Moving was expensive. Funny how that works.) The plasma center is, in some ways, far preferable to many of the jobs he's had in the past, and it allows Dream to spend more time on his art. But it is absolutely unfathomable how anybody could pursue an eternity of this if they didn’t have to. 

Dream keeps his head down avoiding the attention of the chatty professor. He stays quiet. His cold, bony hands are tucked into his long cardigan sleeves except for when he's chugging water, nearly by the gallon. He's about 2kg from the next weight class. Unfortunately, he's lost weight since his eviction, but if he could bump the scale a little higher, it would mean a higher draw — and a slightly higher payment. He's always cold these days, so the heavy sweater isn't a hardship, and the water fills up his stomach and supplements his inadequate lunch of oatmeal and stolen sugar packets.

The first time Dream meets Professor Hob’s eyes is when they’re sliding the needle into his arm and Dream has to turn his head away sharply. Dream was never afraid of needles — not until that night when someone (he later learned it was a twisted old cult leader named Burgess) stuck him with… something that knocked him out cold and he woke up in the basement. These days, although he's done this many times before, when the metal pricks his skin, Dream still lays frozen like an ice sculpture as his heart pounds against his chest.

He has sold his vintage leather jacket, his treasured collection of elegant handmade cloaks (there was a theatrical phase, it’s complicated), and most of his books (the shelves of his sparse apartment now hold only a few cheap volumes of blank paper for his sketches). But it wasn’t enough. 

Burgess was years ago, but Dream's life still lies in ruins.

He does not like being here. But it seems that this — his body's materials, his very essence — is the only thing of value he has to offer the world. This most basic biological function, the blood pumping through his veins, is all anyone wants of him now.

So despite his fear, he lets them bleed him.

Hob is usually quiet when he’s hooked up to the machine. He'll chat in the line and in the lobby and at the vitals check, but on the donation floor, he politely minds his own business. Here, everyone retreats into their own world, usually scrolling on their phone or staring at the clock. People don't usually feel like talking when they’ve got a needle in their arm. And Hob’s an extrovert, not an asshole. 

But today, the man beside him looks over, and Hob can’t wrench his eyes away. The man is thin and sheet white and his eyes are huge and watery over jutting cheekbones. His lips might be trembling.

“Alright there?” Hob asks kindly. 

The man’s head twitches. It might be a nod.

Hob has seen people pass out here before. With the way this guy looks, Hob’s mildly shocked that anyone thought it was a good idea to drain him of vital fluids. But the people here know their business. His numbers must be under control, or else he wouldn’t’ve been allowed in.

Still, under control doesn’t necessarily mean ok.

So Hob gently keeps the conversation going with the man. Dream, he learns and his heart flutters at the name. He weirdly doesn’t seem bothered by Hob’s donation floor chatter (maybe because he's too bothered by the needle in his arm to notice anything else). Dream doesn’t even pull out a phone. He seems to hang on Hob’s every word of small talk. 

“I can shut up if you’d life,” Hob offers when he realizes with a shock that he’s babbled through the entire first draw. “It just seemed like you needed some distraction.”

“Please.” Dream blushes slightly. Well, at least his skin is getting some blood. “Tell me about… your experiences. What… have you been doing?”

Huh? 

What has he been doing? That’s vague. 

But if anyone can find a way to fill a vague prompt, it’s Hob. So he chatters some more about the union organizing at his university and a ridiculous new scheduling system for the adjuncts — it’s like they’ve taken all the worst aspects of on-demand scheduling from the fast food industry and applied it to higher education for some incomprehensible reason. One of his colleagues had a class — and £2000 of pay — cancelled two days before term started. But not everything’s bad. Hob knows the students are planning a walkout next week, which he fully supports and has already adjusted his lessons to compensate for the lost time. Also, there’s a new pizza place on campus which is rather decent.

He really is just rambling. 

But Dream seems to need it. He hasn’t looked down at his arm once, and Hob’s certain that’s for the best.

Dream has to admit that the insufferable professor has made the time go by a lot quicker. He’s shocked when they’re sliding the needle out of his arm, then wrapping his elbow up, and he’s free to go. He mumbles what he hopes is a polite goodbye to Hob, who is also finishing up, and then practically stumbles out into the rain.

He clutches his cardigan around him and pulls up his hood and plods away from the center. This place is closer to the new apartment than his previous plasma center, but it’s still a half hour hike home. The buses take even longer — his crappy apartment isn't exactly on a convenient route. But at least walking saves him a few quid.

“Hey!” 

The voice makes Dream flinch. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a car slow down beside him, and his heart ratchets up in his chest. He doesn’t look over, only hunches deeper into his wet cardigan and walks faster.

“Hey, Dream!”

Oh.

Belatedly, Dream recognizes Hob’s voice. He finally looks up to see Hob looking out his car window and smiling despite the rain streaming onto his face.

“Looks like you could use a ride!” Hob jerks his head toward the passenger’s seat. “Hop in!”

Dream stares at the kindly professor. Who offers a stranger a ride in their car? Sure, Dream spent the last forty five minutes listening to every mundane detail of this guy's super normie professional life, but they still barely know each other! And if Hob actually knew Dream — a failed starving artist and all around fuckup, consistently two minutes away from homelessness — there’s no way he’d want to associate with him outside of the polite minimum of chatter at the center. 

So what the fuck is Hob playing at?

“Come on, you’ll get soaked!” Hob prods.

Fear strikes Dream, and he recoils, stumbling away from the vehicle.

“Dream? You alright there?”

But Dream is already running, tearing off through the rain. He cuts through a shitty neglected park, climbs a fence and gets chased by a rottweiler through a closed off parking lot, and dashes across a highway — almost getting hit twice.  He doesn’t stop running until he’s home.

Or, well, what passes for his home now. 

Dream dries off, makes some tea, and grabs a sketchbook. His hand shakes as he doodles, but the process calms him and grounds his mind. 

Then, as usual, after his fear begins to ebb, he feels stupid.

His mind replays the afternoon's events. Hob’s smile is brilliant in his memory. Though the initial snatches of overheard conversation were insufferable — not to mention incomprehensible — his recitation of the mundane details of life had been oddly calming. And, though Dream had perhaps not appreciated it in the moment, Hob had seemed genuinely concerned. 

The more Dream thinks about it, the stupider he feels. Worse, he feels ashamed. How rude to run from Hob, who’d only wanted to help! 

The scar tissue that has proliferated over Dream’s heart has truly damaged his ability to function among decent people. That night, he lays awake for a long time thinking about this. He should probably just never go back to the plasma center. He can’t imagine facing Hob after reacting so poorly to his kindness.

But the next day, after he scribbles up the month’s expenses and tries to make the math work, Dream realizes he has no choice. 

The day after that, he’s plodding back to the plasma center.

The feelings of shame are almost overwhelming, and Dream slouches in with his head lowered, shoulders hunched, and eyes averted from everyone. 

“Dream!” Hob’s voice is like a warm bubble bath. “Hope you got home alright.”

Dream can barely look at him, but Hob's smile is like a ray of sun on Dream’s face. There’s a cloud of concern shadowing his eyes, but he’s otherwise as cheery as ever.

“Forgive me. I…” Dream cannot explain. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I totally overstepped,” Hob says. “I know I can be a bit much, and I shouldn’t’ve pushed.”

Dream cannot believe that Hob is apologizing to him. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Hob said gingerly, “was that your first time? It’s just you didn’t seem particularly pleased with the whole process. I thought I’d likely never see you in here again.”

“It was not. I have done this…” Too many times to count. “…frequently.” Dream finds the prospect of explaining the complexity of his situation too daunting. But he is touched by Hob’s concern. “I do not enjoy the process.”

Hob makes a sympathetic noise.

“But I did enjoy…” Dream pauses. What the fuck is he doing? Hob’s been kind enough to overlook his rudeness; Dream should just shut up and leave him alone. But maybe Dream has been alone too long, been too long without a sympathetic ear, because he keeps on mumbling, “I enjoyed hearing about your university. With the union… and the pizza… and everything.”

Impossibly, Hob brightens even further. “I could take you! The pizza really is delicious—Oh, shit, sorry, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” The cloud of concern is back as he takes in Dream’s downcast gaze. “I’m being too much. Sorry, I didn't mean to push!”

“No, not at all. It sounds lovely. I just…” Dream shifts awkwardly. “They don’t exactly pay us enough here for going out.”

“Oh, I’ll get it!" Hob says with a wave of his hand. "It’s no problem. I’d love to take you out. You looked like you could’ve used a good meal after that last one. Have you at least eaten something so far today?” Hob tries to keep the worry out of his voice so he doesn’t sound like a mother hen. All the instructional materials are very explicit about not donating on an empty stomach, but he knows that people do what they have to. 

“I have,” Dream says honestly. His lips twitch as he takes in Hob’s worried look. But Hob's smile, even suppressed, is a beautiful thing. “Really,” Dream stresses. “Oatmeal is cheap. I've had enough to be getting on with things. But later…”

“Great!” Hob’s heart flutters, but he stamps down the feeling. The memory of Dream running from him twists at his heart. He never wants to make him afraid again. 

On the donation floor, they're next to each other again. And again Hob chatters happily about whatever he can think of to keep Dream distracted. It all seems to go well until they emerge together into the parking lot and Hob notices Dream tense as he glances at Hob’s car.

“We can hop on the bus, if you prefer,” Hob says. “The campus is just down the main line, and I've got extra passes.”

Dream blushes, and his shoulders hunch like he's ashamed. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“It’s nothing of the sort! It saves on gas and it's good for the planet!”

At the bus stop, Hob notices the way Dream’s gaze constantly flicks around his surroundings. Even when he looks down and hunches in on himself, his eyes remain alert, as if he's still hyperaware of every movement on his periphery. Hob wants so badly to reach out and comfort him and wipe away whatever has caused him to move through life with such fear, but he doesn't dare overstep. 

Hob is glad that the pizza place is in the bustling, well-lit central food court. Dream's body relaxes somewhat, and that specific tension which Hob had notice in the parking lot doesn't return. Hob buys him a giant slice of spinach, mushroom, and feta and a sealed bottle of water, and Dream even cracks a smile.

“I apologize for my behavior,” Dream says as they find seats at a plastic table in the middle of the food court. 

“No need," Hob says. "I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You were being kind, and I reacted… extremely.” Dream takes a deep breath and then a long sip of water.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Hob hastens to assure him, "about… whatever happened… if you don't want to."

Dream nods. He knows. Despite his annoyingly resurgent fear, he feels safe around Hob. So slowly, hesitantly, he begins to explain. 

It’s an abbreviated form of the story. Dream avoids the details of how Burgess thought he could siphon the life force from vibrant young adults. How he'd drawn a whole following into his delusion, even though he'd ultimately kept Dream for himself. How (Dream had learned later) Burgess had boasted about having a fresh young man, the font of youth, trapped in his basement — and no one had done anything, whether because he was just a rich eccentric who could get away with a "joke" like that or because he'd paid enough people off. He didn't tell Hob how the elder Burgess hadn't ever been held accountable because he'd died before any of it had come to light, and the younger Burgess had fallen into a coma. A care worker had ultimately taken a wrong turn, stumbled into the basement, and that was how the police were finally called to Fawney Rig. But since no one was alive (or conscious) for a big, thrilling trial, the entire ordeal just fizzled quietly into the background.

It’s not the whole story. But it's enough. 

Hob’s face grows progressively more horrified. He's abandoned his half-eaten pesto and prosciutto slice. It sits cold in front of him now. He feels sick.

“I make art,” Dream says into the silence. “It is not lucrative, but I can work when and how I wish. I have not… had a great deal of luck with traditional employment. Especially not since… those events.”

“Right. Of course." Hob's voice cracks over his words. For once, he's struggling to extract his usual chatter. "Can’t imagine anything’s easy after that.” 

Hob doesn't touch the remainder of his pizza, but Dream polishes his off. He looks oddly relaxed now, as if, in the telling, some of the weight of the horrifying story has slid from his body. 

“I’d love to see your art,” Hob says on the bus back to the plasma center parking lot. Belatedly, he cringes at the presumption, wondering if it's too much, knowing now that he really ought not to push his interest onto a bloody kidnap victim.

“I have a website,” Dream says, bringing it up on his phone and showing the address to Hob. Then he stands, though they're only about halfway back to the center. “This stop is closer to my home. I… Thank you. For the meal. And the kind ear. Perhaps… I will see you next Tuesday?”

“Of course,” Hob says, and a little bubble of happiness rises in his chest. “It’s Tuesday and Thursday for me until the schedule changes next term.”

Over the next few weeks, Hob isn’t always next to Dream on the donation floor. But he asks Dream to tell him about his latest project afterwards, so Dream has something to think about during the donation. And also so that it's not just Hob chattering away at their post-donation dinners. Which are happening regularly now. Sometimes they go for pizza, sometimes a good curry or a hefty shawarma; Hob introduces Dream to the pubs with the best (and biggest) burgers. He knows all the places to get a solid, filling dinner, not because he's concerned about getting his money's worth but because Hob just enjoys a good meal and he's more than happy to help put some meat on Dream's bones.

And get the artist to open up. 

Slowly, Dream begins to do just that.

It starts to seem like Dream feels safe with Hob. When they're out, he stands close to Hob, as if comforted by his presence. His shoulders begin to straighten out, and he hunches less when they're together. Dream's gaze is still alert, but it rarely sinks to the floor now, and his eyes don't flick fearfully around so much when he's with Hob. 

Three weeks after they meet, Dream lets Hob drive him home.

Two weeks after that, he invites Hob inside to see his current projects. 

Hob knew Dream was a good artist from the first glimpse at his website, but seeing the bright canvases in person is just stunning. The glistening abstractions echo the swirling galaxies and deep, black voids of the universe. The colors blend in fantastic points of light or unearthly flames or brilliant streaks across the sky. The textures — flattened out in the photos — give an impression of looking into entire worlds. The brushstrokes are mountain ranges and deep ocean trenches and shaded valleys where, somehow, Hob can imagine entire populations living and thriving within the fibers of the canvas.

"The, erm… the university has spaces for community exhibits," Hob says, struggling to bring himself out of the captivating images as if wading out of a dream. How appropriate. "I could look into that, see if you could do a show. Maybe the Art Department could have you in for a lecture, too — you could talk about the real-life challenges of being an artist, the actual work involved, the practical—" Oh no. He's being too much again. "I mean, of course, you don't have to! I won't say anything without—"

Dream's arms are around Hob's shoulders before Hob can even turn away from the canvas. His wild, dark hair is tucked against Hob's cheek as Dream tightens his grip.

Hob's hands slowly move to Dream's back. He can't speak for a long moment. Instead, his hands gently rub against the thin material of Dream's shirt. Hob can feel the edges of his spine and ribcage, but Dream also feels softer than Hob would've imagined the first time he saw him, pale and shaking, weeks ago.   

"Thank you," Dream murmurs. He steps back, and his gaze lowers, but now it's not filled with fear and sadness. He's smiling shyly. "If you could do that, I-I… would be grateful."

Hob can do that!

He's in Medieval History himself, but he's friends with half the Art History department due to overlapping lectures, the occasional historical consultation or spontaneous debate, and just being a friendly guy. And the Art History people know a few of the more curious, historically-aware Art people due to various collaborations and consultations on the evolution of modern styles and techniques and the socio-political contexts of artistic development. 

Hob, with his talent for striking up conversation, takes less than a week to find several interested parties. And once he shows them Dream's work, everyone is extremely eager to invite the talented local artist to campus!

The next time Hob walks into the plasma center, Dream is already beaming. His smile is bright enough to singlehandedly banish the residual storm cloud that always follows Hob over the threshold.

"I hit the next weight class," Dream says. He leans subtly into Hob's side.

"Good on you!" Hob says, beaming right back. When he tells Dream about the interest in his work, Dream's arm snakes around his waist for a subtle but firm half-hug.

At Dream's first show (he's already scheduled in with both the Art and Art History Departments — the latter wants to address the reality of artist's lives across time — and, hell, Hob's even lobbying his own History Department to get Dream in as part of a series on creative work throughout history), Hob is enamored with one canvas he hasn't seen before. From a distance it's a dark oil-slick abstraction with iridescent slashes of green and blue, but up close, Hob can see the feathery edges of wings.

He cannot explain the sudden, confusing wave of sorrow-joy-awe it provokes deep in his chest.

"Departed souls," Dream says softly, coming up behind Hob, "come back as ravens. Or so it is believed by some."

Hob sniffs and tries to control the itch in his eyes as he turns toward Dream. "Oh?"

"I painted this one soon after I regained my freedom. It felt like a part of me had not survived the imprisonment. It was… necessary, perhaps, to lose something in order to regain my life, but it hurt nonetheless."

"Oh." Hob doesn't know what else to say, but he reaches out, gingerly wrapping an arm around Dream, waiting for any hint of refusal, but Dream turns into him and clutches him tight, and Hob's arms tighten around him in turn. "It's beautiful," he finally says, his words muffled against Dream's hair. 

"I think now… maybe… some part of me that had not survived… has come back. In some form."

And Hob is gone. Tears leak down into Dream's hair. Hob clutches at him for support, but he can feel himself shaking, and now it's Dream rubbing soothing patterns into his back and tightening the embrace.

When they finally pull back, Dream wipes Hob's cheeks with his palm. He tilts his head in a silent question.

"Just… death," Hob says. "It's bloody stupid, isn't it? In all its forms. Necessary, maybe but stupid. I don't want any part of it."

Hob laughs at himself, as if the brash declaration itself is stupid. 

But Dream only nods; he can see that there are deep forces moving beneath Hob's usually cheery exterior. 

On the way home, he listens as Hob finally opens up about his wife and the unborn babe. After a decade, Hob says, the wound has closed up, he has "moved on" in all the ways one is supposed to move on, he has a new — and rather wonderful — life. But the scar will remain forever. It still hurts, but he's grateful for the life he had and the new one he's grown into.

"Shit," Hob says suddenly.

Dream looks around and realizes they haven't driven back to his own crappy apartment building. 

"Sorry." Hob wipes his eyes. "I've blabbered so much, I wasn't paying attention. Driven myself right home."

"It's alright," Dream says. He peeks over at Hob shyly. "I've never seen your place."

Hob blinks at him for a moment — Dream's heart thuds against his throat — and then, despite the tear tracks still drying on his cheeks, Hob's face breaks into a brilliant smile. 

"Are you hungry?" Hob asks. "I can actually cook quite well. It's not always pub food and pizza."

With perfect timing, Dream's stomach gives an almost painful rumble. "I'm starving."

Inside, Hob cooks a delectable dinner. Dream watches Hob move about the kitchen, chattering happily — he's already inviting Dream back over for brunch and maybe a Netflix marathon and Christmas. And Dream's mind is blossoming with new paintings, these ones bright with twining paths and colliding galaxies and shared dreams.

Hob is vaguely aware that he might be babbling into too much territory again, but when he sees Dream watching him with that dreamy sparkly in his eyes, his heart is just too full to care. As they eat together, he lets himself just be excited and not worry about reining himself in. Truly, he might not mind an eternity of this.

And Dream is thinking much the same thing.

[hoonshouse]

Heyy, can u pls write jay or heeseung ff hurt comfort? Maybe the reader having an argument with them and they give them the silent treatment but they make it up for them later, fluffy ending pls, thank u sm 🫶🏻

this is mostly angst w a little fluff at the end i hope that’s ok ♡

“Heeseung—“

You’re quiet for the first time in an hour, just staring at him in disbelief. You knew this argument wasn’t anywhere close to being resolved, but something about the way he said don’t you think you’re being a little bit immature stung you. He doesn’t usually talk so harshly to you. Sure, he could’ve said worse, but that doesn’t change that what he did say was making your heart ache and not in the happy, lovesick kind of way.

“I’m going to take a walk. I need some space.”

Heeseung’s eyes are all over you, scanning your face and body language to see what just happened—what just went wrong. He starts to say your name, but he lets it die down on his tongue and he lets you walk out the door.

He hasn’t stopped calling and texting you since. You’ve been ignoring him, and you know that’s not the “mature” thing to do, especially when you can tell he’s worried by the tone of his messages, but the larger part of you doesn’t care. You’re too hurt to stop yourself from causing more.

I’m so sorry, y/n.

I never should have said that.

I didn’t mean to hurt you.

Please just tell me you’re safe.

All unanswered.

You take your time making it back to your apartment, entering it silently and walking past a pale-faced Heeseung to your bedroom where you plan to go right to sleep. “Y/n,” Heeseung calls softly as he pads towards your room with you, his voice sounding dejected. “Y/n, please just look at me, baby.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek before begrudgingly turning to look at Heeseung. His eyes are round, pleading, and his pretty lips are parted like he’s witnessing his life instead of living it. He’s watching the crash.

When Heeseung realizes you’re not going to just turn your back to him again—that you’re actually giving him a chance—he drops to his knees, taking your hands in his. You sit down on the edge of the bed, looking into the eyes of someone that loves you so much they’re willing to quite literally put you above themselves.

“Baby, I’m so, so sorry.” He kisses the mess of your hands in his palm and holds them to his cheek as if they might disappear any second. “I should have been more careful with my words. I never want to hurt you.” He sighs and presses many more kisses to your hands.

“Heeseung, you know how much it hurts me when it feels like you’re discrediting my feelings.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He frowns and moves your entanglement of hands until one hand of fingers is laced through yours. His eyes are genuine as they stare into yours and the sadness reflected back to you makes you feel sorry for him and for you. “I got frustrated and I was careless. I hurt you and I’m so sorry.”

You wipe away the single tear that pricks your eye and exhale heavily, free hand finding Heeseung’s soft hair. “I love you, Hee. I know you would never hurt me on purpose.”

The pretty stars are back in his eyes, easily outshining the pain that was there before. Heeseung wraps his arms around your waist and pulls, head resting on your thighs as he hugs you to himself. “Never, baby. I promise.” He turns his head till his lips are on you, innocently littering your thighs with kiss after kiss in thanks.

You can’t help but giggle at his display of gratitude, laughing even harder when his hair tickles the smallest bit of exposed skin and when he nuzzles his head playfully against you.

The next time he looks back up at you, he’s grinning from ear to ear, eyes soft and adoring. You can’t help but think that that look tells you more about his heart than a few frustrated words ever could.

cr. cafekitsune for dividers ♡

[thelinguisticpoet]

365 Days Without You

I always thought grief would be black and white, monotonous for the most part. Then I thought it would be grey, like the clouds, right before it rained, holding onto as much as you can till you fall apart. But the past year has taught me that grief has colors, colors no one stops to notice or understand, colors I never thought I’d see again...

Sometimes grief would be blue, like the sky that goes on without an end, it was quiet and calm, maybe a little long yet soothing despite the sorrow deep within. Grief was green, like the trees, grass, and weeds that grew on the side of your grave, grief was growth and life despite the life lost. Grief was red, like the million flowers we arranged atop your grave in hopes you could smell them the way we could, red like the anger that kept seething despite all the rational thoughts and beliefs, a little faulty and unpredictable. Then, grief was yellow, it was funny with a little drop of sunshine where you could only think to find darkness, it was proof you could smile despite adversities. Grief is anything but the gloomy, grey picture we often paint in our heads.

I still vividly remember the day I received the call at work. I had only imagined what pain and sorrow would feel like until that moment, and despite knowing the worst has happened, all I felt was complete numbness. I could have sworn I held my breath on the ride home, wishing the car to speed past traffic lights, but also praying not to reach, not to ever find out what was awaiting me at the end of the journey. I was not prepared for this goodbye despite knowing and feeling its lingering presence for months. I was not ready to let you go… 

I had so much to say and yet silence engulfed me whole for months. I could never quite put my thoughts into words the way I wanted to, I could not speak to a wall thinking your presence filled the room or think of you as an angel living in the heavens above, looking down on me. I could not simply pretend you still were here, yet I could not completely fathom your absence long enough to understand that you were gone forever.

Maybe I was a little mad, but more than anger, it was sadness in a way I had never felt before. It was in knowing nothing would ever come close to having spent decades with you ever again. It was in knowing I could never again hold your hand as we walked through the park, never again drink the coffees that you make or share your favorite strawberry ice creams with you, it was in knowing I could never again hear your voice calling me out as I walked past your room, never again having your presence in celebrations and festivities that you dearly looked forward to. It was in knowing you’d never again sing along to the songs that played on the radio, never again waking up in the wee hours to catch World Cup matches, listening to your commentary and supporting Brazil because that was your favorite team. It was in knowing you’d never be the one who takes up the spot right next to me in family portraits and birthday photographs, it was in knowing I have kissed you goodbye for the last time and put you six feet deep where I could not quite reach you the way I wanted to. My sorrow was tied to never having you again, and knowing that there is still much I needed you for in life. It is tied to the absence and void that I now have to live and make peace with because there isn’t much else to do…

I expected myself to feel lost, to go through tons of emotions, behave irrationally, throw tantrums, and spend most of my days and nights in complete solitude. Life was a far cry from what I’d imagined, I spent most of my days after your loss swamped with work and I was surprisingly good at it. And when I couldn’t breathe, I found myself locked in a toilet or curled up on the bed, holding myself together on the brink of losing it, praying to keep it together for just a bit longer. This was a huge loss for the entire family, and with the emotional rollercoaster we all rode those months, I found it necessary to keep all my pain and sorrow hidden. I made the most jokes, recalled your time with us animatedly and did what I could to make sure everyone was okay. Most days, I kept myself mentally and physically busy to the point when I hit the bed, there was no room for thinking, let alone overthinking. All I did for a good six months or so, was work, exhaust myself and sleep.

Life took a complete turn overnight and I was nowhere near prepared for a death I knew was coming and would completely shatter me.

Tell me, how does one prepare for the complete absence of a loved one for the rest of whatever forever we have left…

I am grateful for photographs and videos of you; they bring you back whole to me for a split second every time I catch a glimpse of them. Sometimes, with my eyes closed, I could swear I feel you right here with me. In the moments I spend most alone, most broken and find myself hurting and longing for your comforting hug and presence, I feel myself break in a way I could never explain. But in those very moments, I think you’re somewhere nearby, holding my hands, silently sitting with me, the way you always did. I know you are right here. 

You’re in every flower that blooms in my garden, in every innocent smile and laughter of every child I meet on the streets, in the black coffees I drink every morning now, and in your favorite songs that play constantly on my playlist. You’re everywhere I turn, and it is not painful anymore. It’s comforting to know the things you’ve left behind in the form of objects, routines, and habits help hold me together in knowing you’re just as much here as you were before when I feel a little abandoned in life.

It still feels like you’re asleep in an unknown, unfindable room in this house, I still wait to see if you’d come walking down the hall whenever we gather for family time like you always do, I still think you’re here whenever I turn another corner or sit on your couch waiting for you to magically appear again as though nothing went amiss, like the past year didn't happen. I wonder if I prayed long and hard enough, if you'd come right back and life would resume playing out the way it was supposed to.

Sitting here, I could tell you I did not believe I’d make it past the first 24 hours, let alone a whole year. It feels surreal, like a never-ending dream I hope to awaken from and find you laughing with me as I recall every little detail, but it all feels less probable and more an unchanged reality as time passes by. With every day that begins and ends without you, know that I carry you in my heart, know that every step I take and every single thing I do, will embody you, and it will be something I hope makes you proud.

Tell me what I missed when I see you again, tell me how much you missed me and hold me till I feel whole again, tell me all your wonderful adventures from when you were young again even though I remember every story, every word, by heart, the way I do you.

I will always hold you in my heart for whatever life and eternity there is left to live,

with eternal love,

Rose.

In loving memory of my most beloved grandfather♥️

© Raina Rose 

[ifancyharry]

Everything I want

I was just in need of some angst with boxrry (and also dad to be!!!), so why not??? lmk if you liked it 🌷

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, blood, panic attacks

Word count: 3k

YN knew something was wrong when the clock struck midnight and Harry still hadn’t come home.

It wasn’t a secret, what he did on Thursdays, but the both of them dreaded starting that conversation, so YN pretended to be fine with it, and Harry tried to come home not too late and not too scratched up.

A couple of nights he’d come back bruised pretty badly, and despite his successful effort to not wake her up while he nursed his wounds, YN noticed something was wrong with him the morning after and begged him to stop. He pretended to listen, and for a while he even did, turning down his coach’s offers to fight, but nothing could match up to the thrill and adrenaline boxing gave him, so he subtly started fighting again. 

He didn’t hide it from her, he just told her he’d be careful and she went with it. What could she do? She had tried with everything she could to get him to stop, but if he didn’t want to, could she really force him? 

Of course, the sleepless nights and anxiety she had to subdue weren’t nothing, but she never truly expressed how bad it got to him, so he couldn’t have known how much it was hurting her.

It all started with boxing. Harry needed to let out some tension he’d rack up over work and decided to get a gym membership. Once the coach saw how gifted he was with his punches, he made an offer Harry couldn’t find it in himself to refuse: he’d fight illegally every other week, yes, but for so much money he wouldn’t ever have to work a day in his life. 

It’s not that he didn’t like his job, and in the past he had earned enough to sustain his needs, but he wasn’t alone now; he had a girlfriend, three months pregnant with his baby, and he knew he’d do anything in his power to give them the life they deserve. So he didn’t really see any other plausible option. 

YN tried to calm her anxiety down with some breathing exercises she’d found online, but nothing worked, not until she heard the front door open, an hour later than expected, and the sound of Harry’s groans rumbling through the walls of their shared home.

She got up from the bed hastily, her heart beating so fast and loud she could feel it in her throat.

“Harry?” She called out from the hallway. It wasn’t the first time she dreaded seeing him, and she hated herself for that, but could you blame her? Every week she got scared something bad would happen and she’d lose the person she loved the most in the whole world.

“Don’t come in here, love, I’m fine.” She heard him say from the living room. His voice was masked with pain but he tried to make it as soft as he could, he didn’t want to scare her. He knew he should’ve just stayed over a friend’s for the night, but he wasn’t sure wether she was already asleep, and he knew if she’d wake up and not find him near her, she’d freak out, so he prayed she would listen to him and go back to bed.

Of course she didn’t, not after understanding how much pain he was in.

“Oh, Harry” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as soon as she took in the sight of him, scrunched up on the couch with his eyes closed, a hand clutching his stomach tightly.

“I told you not to come.” He hissed, “I’m fine. It not as bad as it looks.” 

She hurried towards the couch and sat cross legged on the carpeted floor, stretching an arm before her to tilt his head up to get a better look at how badly he’d been injured.

She felt nauseous once he looked at her. Across his cheekbone, right under his eye, there was a dark blue bruise, the skin swollen and turgid, his pretty pink lips had tuned a red color and she couldn’t quite understand if the blood that ran across his lips was from his broken nose or from his bottom lip, that had a deep cut right in the middle of it, the thick blood dripping down till his chin. 

She shifted her gaze from one eye to the other, not missing the deep gash across one of his eyebrows. She ghosted over his face with trembling fingers, and he couldn’t help but relax into her touch, his eyes fluttering close.

“Stay with me, baby” she whispered, thumbing gently over his eyelid.

He opened his eyes and once again begin to tell her he was fine, but she interrupted him with a shake of her head.  

“Can you get up?” She questioned, her hand shifting down his shoulder and stopping at his bicep, which she squeezed lightly to gain his attention. He nodded and she helped him get off the couch, dragging his arm across her shoulders and hers down to his waist to guide him the best she could towards the bathroom in the living room. He tried not to lean too much of his weight on her, but he could feel himself struggling. Maybe it was as bad as it looked.

YN sat Harry on the edge of the bathtub once they reached the bathroom and ushered him once again to open his eyes and keep his attention on her as she took the first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink. 

She ripped out a piece of cotton with trembling hands and soaked it with hydrogen peroxide, walking towards Harry. She settled between his open legs and took his chin between her thumb and index finger to tilt his head up.

She disinfected the cut on his eyebrow first, and Harry flinched as soon as the cotton swab touched the wounded skin. “I know, I know” she frowned, and he placed a hand on the side of her thigh to keep her closer to him, his fingers squeezing her plushy skin every time she swatted the cotton across his eyebrow.

She then stretched behind her and tossed the cotton in the bin, taking with her the wash cloth from the hanger on the wall. She wetted it with some warm water under the sink and then proceeded to gently clean the blood from his face. 

Once she was done, Harry held the wash cloth against his nose to keep the blood from running. Some of it had fallen on his white shirt and she tugged at it, signaling him to take it off. In doing so, she noticed his knuckles were bruised and small still open cuts were splattered all across the skin too; she felt herself frown once again at the sight, the nausea hadn’t subdued at all, and it took everything in her took keep from throwing up, the sight of blood added to her pregnancy not making it any easier.

 “God, Harry” she shook her head once she took in the sight of Harry’s naked torso. She knew the wounds weren’t exclusive to his face, but she never expected it to be this bad.

“I think we should go to the hospital” she sighed, somehow feeling defeated. 

She couldn’t do this, she didn’t even know where to start. 

“No, no,” he shook his head, tightening the grip on her tight, “no hospital, pet.”

She squeezed her eyes tightly before nodding her head, taking a big breath and reaching for the cotton and hydrogen peroxide once again. 

She disinfected his cuts the best she could, and after his wounds were clean, she pressed two fingers on his worst bruises, to try and understand the extent of his injuries.

“Stop” he breathed out once she pressed a little harder on the skin on his ribs, “hurts too much.”

“Okay, okay” she whispered, closing her eyes once a particularly strong wave of nausea hit her.

 “Let’s go to bed” Harry said after a while, leaning against her tummy and plastering a kiss against her subtle bump. It wasn’t that big yet, but he’d been affectionate with it from the very first time she’d told him she was pregnant. He believed their little one could feel the love all the way from inside her. 

YN always looked at him with twinkly eyes and a heavy heart when he did that, but now, she couldn’t help but think if staying with Harry was really the best option for her and especially for their baby. Before, she had been selfish and tried to look the other way when she heard him come home after a fight or when she’d catch a glimpse of a fading bruise on his torso while showering together, but she couldn’t anymore. She had to think of her baby too. 

What if Harry never stopped? What would happen then? When the baby was old enough to understand what his dad would do on Thursday nights?

She felt her anxiety rise at the bare thought. 

“Let’s go to bed”, she repeated, swallowing the big lump that seemed trapped in her throat.

They walked to their bedroom in silence, Harry was able to carry himself this time, feeling a little better after she nursed him.

“I’m too tired to shower, pet” he said once they reached the bed, seeing as he still had a bit of dried blood on his hair and body that would inevitably get on the cleaned sheets. “But, if you want I can-“

“It’s okay, Harry”, she said sternly, “go to sleep.”

He eyed her briefly to see if she might change her mind, and when she didn’t, he lifted the duvet and got comfortable on the soft mattress, his warm face felt nice squished against the cold pillow, and he patted her side of the bed to signal her to get in bed with him.

She gave him a brief nod and walked towards the bed, first sitting on it and then snuggling under the duvet beside him. Harry draped an arm around her waist to bring her closer to his side, trying the best he could to not lean too much weight on his injured rib, and he splattered his hand against her belly, caressing the skin there with his fingertips.

“I love you, baby” he whispered against her back, nose buried in her hair, planting a loud kiss there. 

“I love you” she said back, shutting her eyes tightly as she tried to ease her running mind.

She didn’t know what to do. She’d meant to speak to Harry, but she couldn’t get the words out, too busy worrying about his injuries. She thought he’d bring it up, that after seeing her so scared he’d just tell her he’d quit the fighting, but he didn’t, and all she was left with was laying in bed with her heart slamming hard against her chest. 

With the passing of the hours, she felt as sleepless as ever and she debated wether she should get out of bed and take some sleeping pills, but she’d never discussed it with her doctor, so she didn’t know if she could this early in the pregnancy. 

She tried to do some more breathing exercises as she’d done before, which had seemed to work, but she felt as if the air couldn’t go through her nose and reach her lungs. 

After some minutes, the air she inhaled actually felt painful and she felt this painful weight on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She wanted to wake Harry but didn’t know how to, his heavy arm draped across her body felt suddenly suffocating to her, and she started feeling claustrophobic despite the big space of their shared bedroom. 

Her chest heaved with every breath she took, but she felt it wasn’t enough, the air still couldn’t reach her lungs. She tried to move from Harry’s grip but he only squeezed her closer.

She planted a hand on her chest and she could feel her heart beating so fast against her chest she wondered wether she was having a heart attack.

She didn’t even realize she’d started crying, broken sobs rumbling in her throat, shaking her entire body. 

“Pet, stop moving” Harry mumbled after a while, his eyes still closed. He couldn’t have possibly known what was going on, but she tried with every strength she had to kick her feet against his tight so he would at least open his eyes.

“YN?” He gasped, finally aware of her flustered state. He removed himself from his body and turned to switch on the lamp on his bedside table.

Despite the loss of his heavy arm, YN still couldn’t breathe, and at that point she really thought she was having a heart attack.

“Baby look at me,” he said, sitting on his knees on the bed and taking both her wrists in his hands, turning her towards him.

She looked at him with eyes glazed with fear, a subtle sweat had formed over her forehead and her cheeks were red and wet with salty tears.

She tried to take a gulp, but the air got caught in her throat and she chocked a little, letting out a cough to clear her throat. 

“You have to breathe, okay?” He squeezed gently the skin of her wrists, trying to gain her attention the best he could, “Let’s take a big breath on three.”

“One, two…” he counted, and once he said “three”, they both took a big breath through the nose, holding it for a while and exhaling through the mouth after.

“Again” he said, and repeated the same process. 

“You’re doing so good, baby”.

With every breath YN felt a little bit better; she began regaining the feeling in her hands and legs which were tingling just a moment before. 

“Yeah, just like that. My good girl” he nodded, continuing with the breaths.

Once he saw she’d gotten the hang of it, he released her wrists from his hold and swiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. He then proceeded to plaster gentle kisses all across her face, starting from her cheekbones, to her nose, moving to her eyelids which she closed briefly to allow him to kiss her there, to her forehead, lingering his lips there for a while. 

“Come back to me, yeah?” He mumbled against her skin, puckering his lips to plant another kiss there.

After he felt she’d calmed down, he withdrew from her forehead to look in her eyes, placing his hands on her knees to caress the skin gently, “What happened?” He asked, his tone soft but laced with worry, as he looked firmly in her eyes, his brows furrowed.

“It’s nothing” she mumbled, her voice coming out startled and broken, lowering her gaze on her intertwined hands sitting in her lap, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of his eyes.

“A panic attack isn’t nothing.” He stated, seriously. “is it the first one you had?”

She didn’t know how to tell him he got her so worried she’d been having them once a week since he started fighting again. 

“YN?” He urged, taking her chin between his fingers like she’d done with him in the bathroom.

She smiled sadly as she took in his wounded face once again, the blood had stopped but his bottom lip was swollen and the bruise on his cheekbone had turned a dark purple color. 

“I’ve been having them a lot, recently.” She admitted, because honestly, she felt too tired to lie.

“What! Why didn’t you tell me!” He exclaimed, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Weren’t you thinking about the baby?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at that, feeling her anxiety turn into anger all of a sudden, how could he even ask her that?

“Of course I was!” She took a hold of his wrist and removed his hand from her face, turning her head sideways so she wouldn’t be facing him. 

“You’re the one who couldn’t care less about the baby!” She snapped, “or about us!”

Harry widened his eyes at her words; he’d gotten accustomed to her mood swings, but he had to admit he felt a bit hurt. From his point of view, he was getting beat up every other week, just for them.

“You’re being so ungrateful” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah? How!”

“Look at my face!” He exclaimed, pointing a finger toward his wounded face, “do you think I like coming home like this? I’m doing this for you and for the baby!”

YN furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to look at him, “why?”

“Because I want to give you the life you both deserve. I want to give you everything you want.”

She looked at him bewildered for a second, then her gaze softened and she raise a hand to brush against his cheek: “I already have everything I want, Harry.”

He smiled sadly at her, leaning against her hand and turning his face to plant a kiss against the inside of her hand. “What about the money?”

“I don’t care about the money. I could never care about the money.”

He sighed at her words and she continued, “quit boxing. We’ll be fine. Our baby is already so loved, Harry.”

He smiled and took her face in his hands, planting a soft kiss against her lips: “yeah, — he nodded against her lips — they are.”

“Promise me.” She whispered, “promise you’ll stop.”

“I’ll” he started, planting another kiss on her lips, “stop” another kiss, “I promise”, he finished, sealing that promise with another kiss. 

YN felt finally at ease, her anxiety long forgotten, and she took her time to show Harry how much she loved him, kissing every wound on his body with her lips, hoping she could somehow heal him with her love, because she knew he was one to keep his promises. And he did. He never once answered a call from his coach, and when the baby was born, he understood what YN had meant, he, too, had everything he wanted. 

[buckrecs]

2022 Bucky Barnes Fic Rec 2

masterlist | req masterlist

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

✨ - fav fics

Status - Complete

1. through his eyes by @sebbytrash

Bucky x Reader

Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

2. pastel colors by @the-canary

Teacher!Bucky x Librarian!Reader

If only the cute teacher would stop pestering you for a pen.

3. appointment by @buckycuddlebuddy

TFATWS!Bucky x Reader

bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.

4. my eyes by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Bucky x Reader, past Steve x Reader

Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.

5. hard feelings by @gayouijaboard

Bucky x Mutant!Reader

You’re a mutant born with the ability to read and feel other people’s emotions. Steve thinks this means you can help Bucky figure out his triggers and learn to communicate what he’s feeling, but no one ever said he was planning on making your job easy.

7. just one kiss by @sarahwroteathing✨

Bucky x Reader 40’s AU

Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?

8. FATWS series by @cjsinkythoughts

TFATWS!Bucky x Avengers!Reader

Series based on the show

9. that summer by @tellmealovestory

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

You’ve spent every summer since you were a child in the idyllic beach town that you call home three months out of the year. This summer should be no different except for the addition of Bucky Barnes. Sparks fly upon first meeting, but it’s only a summer fling, right?

10. hey neighbor by @moonbeambucky

Neighbor!Bucky x Reader

You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

11. snow by @delaber ✨

Bucky x Reader

Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

12. vacant mirrors by @whirlybirbs ✨

Bucky x Reader

shit’s been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes. set before tfatws; a friends-to-lovers, slowburn, eventual smut.

13. the cupcake guy by @nacho-bucky

Baker!Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Baking has become Bucky’s creative outlet, and the root of his recovery. He’d love to launch it into a full-time job, but he needs a good partner -- business, and...you know...kissy-kissy.

14. as it was by @heli0s-writes

Bucky x Reader, past Steve x Reader

Sam warned him when he arrived at the compound, returned to the timeline he ran from: It’s different now, she doesn’t do the superhero thing anymore, she’s got another life now, but he wouldn’t listen. He can’t. He must hope that some things are the same, that your love is the same.  

15. choosing us by @itsanerdlife

Single Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

You were content with your life. The way your life was. Till you take on the Barnes Twins. Kindergarten’s worst nightmares.Epic love wasn’t in your cards. Fate didn’t deal you in, this lifetime. Till James, aka Bucky, Barnes sets his sights on you. It’s not right, you can’t. Right?Love doesn’t have a timeline. There is no set amount of time to tell you what you feel. For the way things progress when you fall in love. Can you get everything you ever wanted with Bucky and his boys, or is it just too fast?  

16. looking for a heartbeat by @justreadingfics

Bucky x Reader

You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. Now,  it’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

17. burn the witch by @dreamwritesimagines ✨

Bucky x Spy!Reader

There’s a thin line between mission and love, and spies aren’t allowed to cross that line.

18. the lost husband by @whitestarbucky

Bucky x Reader Country AU

Starting again was never easy. Recently widowed, you now have to start this process over in a place you once called home. Staying with an old family friend seemed like the simple solution. Until a blast from the past comes back into your life, stirring up long lost memories. Whether you’re ready for them or not.

19. life as we know it by @whitestarbucky ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

You had never disliked a person more than Bucky Barnes. But as the universe would have it, you were stuck with him. Under the same roof now after the tragic passing of your two best friends, their child was yours to take care of. With a complicated past plus raising a toddler, you both find yourselves needing to confront a few things before it tears the only family Sarah Rogers has left, apart.

20. merry & married by @sunriserose1023

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

It’s been almost a year since the most humiliating moment of your life. You’ve done your best to move on—by literally moving across the country, starting a new job, and you’re finally starting to feel settled. That, of course, is when your bubblehead cousin sends you the invitation to her wedding—which is exactly one year to the day that you were left at the altar. You have to go, but you don’t have to go alone.

21. have I made you uncomfortable? by @marveliskindacool

Bucky x Reader

you and Bucky hate each other. or do you? (enemies to lovers)

22. recruit by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader

Fury gives Bucky a simple mission that’s also guaranteed to be impossible. But Bucky refuses to give up.

23. stable by @revengingbarnes

Bucky x Reader Bookstore AU

Bucky Barnes. Owner of one of the only three bookstores in town. Quiet. Shy. Peace-loving and reserved. Bucky’s life has been one big routine. Nothing is out of place. Nothing is out of the ordinary.

24. the lucky one by @avengerofyourheart

Bucky x Single mom!Reader

As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

25. catch me by @buckyywiththegoodhair

Bucky x Reader

In which a bet leads Bucky to have to catch you every day for a week, no matter what.

26. one’s promised by @invisibleanonymousmonsters ✨

Winter Soldier!Bucky x Pierce!Reader

Living a double life was not a choice when one was the daughter of Alexander Pierce. Y/N was the youngest agents of SHIELD and one of the most respected threats within Hydra’s empire. No matter her allegiance, she was feared by both. Y/N Pierce would’ve tried to escape it all… if it hadn’t been for The Winter Soldier.

27. the five times bucky saved you.. by @buckysknifecollection

Bucky x Avengers!Reader

You have a special bond with Bucky. He's more than your best friend, your partner in missions, the person you care most about. He often saved you from uncomfortable situations, always ready to protect you, but sometimes, you are the one who did the saving.

28. howlin’ for you by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Biker!Bucky x Reader

When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she wonders why the town has given Bucky Barnes a bad name.

29. supernova by @whitestarbucky

Bucky x Widow!Reader

A supernova happens where there is a change in the core, or center, of a star. As the star runs out of nuclear fuel, some of its mass flows into its core. Eventually, the core is so heavy that it cannot withstand its own gravitational force. The core collapses, which results in the giant explosion of a supernova. Bucky never thought he could witness this beautiful tragedy in his lifetime. Until he met you.

30. relationship tutor by @samingtonwilson ✨

Bucky x Reader College AU

a relationship novice, asks for your help in dating your friend. Unable to say no to him, you agree despite everyone and everything telling you not to.

[haru-chi]

Reading the 5th vol of 7th time loop LN .. still on chapter 2 but I gotta say ...

The way both Rishe and Arnold is like "I don't care what anyone says about me but I won't allow them to cross the line nor say something bad about you" then get angry and defensive for their sake is just killing me you had no idea 😭🩵

It has such depth to it that I wanna dig up ugh .. it also reflect both their life and personality or the way they led their life till this point ....

What I mean is ... it's kinda painful and tragic that both of them don't care much about their self-value although showing in different ways/meaning .. that it stems from different circumstances yet the end result is the same ...

Having someone be angry for you and show they actually see the real you is ... liberating .. that everything you did till this point wasn't for nothing .. that you can be you .. the real you and that's okay .. having that one person is enough for you ... that's what it meant for Rishe this kind of action ..

While to Arnold it'll have a different meaning .. he himself will never see any kind of value in himself other than bringing misfortunate maybe, he doesn't even believe he's a kind person ... even his kindness to Rishe serve a purpose to him nothing more or less ... but even so, it's still a real kindness no matter how tainted it is .. he need to realize that deep down he actually kind despite how twisted or tainted he actually is .. his kindness is still alive in him ... Rishe gonna show it to him before anyone else ... she'll let it bloom to show its true self for sure one day ... he believe the bad things people says about him ... he himself also led them to believe most of it ... maybe also deceiving himself before those which led him to actually believe that it's the real him ..

So Rishe standing up to him .. not allowing anyone to badmouth him is just ... nothing he ever experienced that he doesn't know how to feel or react about it ... maybe even feel guilty toward it ..

While I believe Rishe is confident in herself and love herself more than anyone else thanks to all her past lives ... in her first is where she went through that self-worth depression when she thought her life has ended when that idiot prince broke their engagement .. that's why current Rishe won't be that shaken with whatever anyone else says about her. She moved on from all of that.

But Arnold doesn't have that mentality toward himself, he really doesn't see any self-worth in himself. The way he doesn't care about what anyone said about him is because part of it he believe it himself, the other he don't see himself as a good or kind person and to him he doesn't worth anything. The last one is that he truly doesn't care about anyone's opinion of him. He doesn't wanna bother.

So having Rishe defend his image has shaken him differently ...

While Rishe broke her shackles long ago thanks to all her past lives, Arnold is still shackled and not free as she is ...

Ummm ... I feel I went rambling without sorting all my feelings or thoughts, so if I make no sense don't mind me. Also I'm still reading through this but I couldn't contain my emotions or thoughts and had to write it down somewhere (maybe reading on either gonna change my view or confirm it too)

But anyway, I'm in pain, in love, and screaming and I'm still in the start of this vol that I don't know if I'll handle more going forward .. they're killing me 😭🩵