#lol my phone turned it into 'jeans' but i fixed it

[martincrushcameback]

Hello Ms. Martincrush can you please tell us what kind of cheetah Jimmy was in Sea Forgets when he was in the suit? I know he had weird spots but I don't understand what that means. Thank you very much for your response!

I don't remember if I clarified in the story at all, but he's a King Cheetah!

Basically Jimmy has recessive genes because he has red hair and lots of freckles. So my brain said, ok, if he's a big carrier of recessive genes, wouldn't it be a lot of fun to have his creature power suits reflect that?

He also gets to be a strawberry leopard

and a golden tiger

Why? Because I think it's neat.

edit: I went back and I did explain it was a king cheetah pattern in the story, but i didn't provide an image so I hope this helps!

[lostinlovingrevery]

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Weapon X/Logan Howlett X F! Reader

You're just a girl in your own world

A/N: This is the most vile and weirdest thing I've ever written.

Warnngs: TW: NONCON/CNC elements! SMUT, MDNI, reader is 21+, also reader is a bit unhinged and bratty and a bit delusional lol, unprotected PiV, multi creampies, Oral (M and F! recieving) rough sex, choking, stalkerish vibes, biting, mention of blood, feral logan, weapon x logan, mentions of mutant politics, Van attempting to write an 80's vibe, includes Cyndi Laupers song Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (teehee), a tad bit dark humor

“I KNOW! She is such a bitch!” 

Posters filled with scantily clad pop idols and glammed-up rock bands covered the walls, with hints of vintage floral wallpaper spotting through. You sat in a messy bedroom, with a floor covered in clothes, cropped tops and ripped jeans, a bra hanging off a half-open dresser drawer. A pair of pink and blue rollerblades hang off the back of the cream-colored bedroom door. Stacks of movies sat on a tv, movies such as Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, and Halloween. 

“And she has the nerve to ask me if I was serious about college? Like, homegirl, I’ll switch my major again if you don’t stop judging me, so I don’t have to deal with your constipated wrinkly ass.” 

You admired your nails, as you finished putting on a fresh glossy coat of neon pink over them.. You were lying in bed, on your belly and lazily kicking your legs behind you, a corded yellow phone up to your ear, supported by your shoulder. You heard your best friend yap about her own college counselor, who was some old perverted man who carried some very old-fashioned ideals about women in education. 

Bright pink bubblegum bubbles pop against your lips, as you continue chewing, smacking your lips loudly before blowing another bubble, and popping it again loudly. Raucous laughter escapes you as you hear your friend tell a hilarious joke.

Outside in the dark. A tall looming figure stood behind a tree. A cold wind blows as leaves scattered across the ground. 

You sat up on your bed, sitting cross-legged, as you reached to your nightstand for your can of cherry Coke and sipped loudly, smearing your red lipstick over the aluminum. You giggled again at another joke. 

“You’re so bad Mary-Ann!” You laugh, you look over at the tall mirror leaning on the wall, leaning forward and fixing your lipstick with your middle finger, and popping your lips together. Admiring the blue and purple eyeshadow, and cat-claw eyeliner you tried on. You also recently got a perm, and love the way your curls popped out your features.

You and Mary-Ann went shopping today. You bought TONS of new clothes, some new makeup. Even decided to try out some Wet n Wild waterproof eyeliner. So far, it’s held up great - especially because Mary-Ann hasn’t stopped with her so-funny jokes. You were laughing so hard you were tearing up.

“Shut up! Oh my god.” You threw your head back, standing up from your bed. The phone cord follows you across the room, stretching over your mattress as you set your nail polish back in the messy jewelry box on your desk. “Oh, by the way, did you see Van Halen on MTV? It was SO cool!” 

The looming figure stands watching. His eyes searching the front of the house- minuscule details he’s observing. He picks up movement in one window- lit up bright on the top floor. He sees a woman with hair that curls down her shoulders walk by, her figure made a shadow by the warm lighting inside. He tracks her movements. 

“Van Halen, Yeah!" I want to get their album.” You say as you mess with your jewelry box, a poor attempt to organize it. You scoff at the tangled mess of your necklaces and push the lid of the box down, turning back to examine the rest of your room lazily as you listen to Mary-Ann ramble about Madonna. You liked her, but not as much as Cyndi Lauper. Now that was a real idol for you. She understood you. 

You pushed your curtain aside, looking out into the dark expanse of your yard. For a moment, you thought you saw something shift by the old Oak tree. A small chill ran up your spine as you felt like there were eyes on you… Then Mary-Ann mentions something that made you remember Bobby Wilkins and your earlier conversation with him on the phone.

“Oh! Before I forget, guess who asked me out again?...” You turned away, forgetting the momentary creeps you felt, as you dropped your curtain. Not noticing the figure appearing beside the tree again. 

You bite your tongue, as you wait for Mary-Ann to guess, and when she says the name, you scream and jump. “Yes!” You giggle. “Out of ALL the men I’ve been with, he actually seems to know what he’s doing too. He lasted a whole song, can you believe that? I think he may make things official too, finally.”

Mary-Ann giggled over the line, and before you could continue, you heard beeping. You glanced at the radio clock with white blocky numbers that sat on your bedside table and rolled your eyes. “Mary-Ann? I gotta go, the parents are calling.” You scoffed. Mary-Ann bids you goodbye and good luck, you make a kissing noise to the receiver, before ending her call and answering the next. 

A small shuffle through the leaves. A cricket chirps nearby, suddenly falling silent as bare feet walk through the dewy grass, wet from an earlier rain storm. A wooden gate with a metal padlock sat in the quiet darkness. A sharp snikt! 

The padlock falls into the grass, impossibly cut in half.

“Hello?” You tilted your hips with a hand placed on them, annoyance on your face.

“Hello darling, me and your father are just doing our check-in. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Mom.” Your tone, a tad condescending, rolls your eyes as you walk around your messy room. Kicking clothes to the side, fiddling with the ear of an old stuffed bunny that you’ve had since childhood, made by your dear departed grandmother when you were born. 

“Did you finish your coursework?”

“I didn’t have any.” 

“Now I find that a little hard to believe dear.”

“Are you really calling me a liar?” You scoffed. 

“No, I-” 

You heard the sound of your father talking, his stern voice demanding your mother hand him the phone. You heard his angry breath as she obliged. 

“Hi, Daddy.” You purse your lips as you prepare for yet another mind-numbing lecture. 

“Darling, you need to start taking your education seriously! I’m paying for your college. That is something most children don’t get the luxury of! You are 22 years old, it is time to start building your life! Time to take on some responsibility!”

You walked back to the mirror hanging on the wall, rolling your eyes as you listened to your father lecture you about responsibility and your future, and blah, blah, blah.

Bor-ing!

“Do you not care about the work me and your mother put in raising you!”

“Daddy, take a chill pill,” You scoffed, nearly a whine. “I love you and mom, but sometimes girls just want to have fun? Y’know?” You smiled, twirling your hair. 

You heard an exasperated sigh. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart. It’s not that you don’t want to have an education or responsibilities. You just spent your whole life being prim and proper for your father, the politician! You just simply wanted to party a little, and have some wild memories to look back on before you become stuffy and serious like your old man…

The back door slides open slowly. The family dog, a German Shepard lifts his head from his bed, curiously watching the intruder as he silently crosses the room, pitched in black. The tall, muscular man, dressed in shadows, stared down at Shepard as if observing the pooch as well. 

The intruder tilted his head, as he listened to the voice coming from the stairwell, a faint glow of light bleeding down the stairwell. He turns and walks towards it. The dog goes back to his resting state, seemingly unaffected by the animal that has come into his house. 

“Well, me and your mother will be home Thursday. You’ll be fine till then, correct?”

“Duh.” You scoffed. You smacked your lips, “Did the conference go okay?”

“No, unfortunately. Seems I’m the only one to support those poor people.” 

“I’m sure there’s someone out there who supports me daddy, maybe you need to look for them. Not everyone is as outspoken as you.” You say, in some attempt to support your father. “If not, at least you’ll be the first.”

“Thanks dear…. Don’t have too much fun, understand?”

“Yeah yeah. Bye dad. Tell mom bye.” You ended the call.

What a bummer!

You walked across the room, shedding articles of your clothes off. Your white crop-top, and your light blue bellbottoms, discarding them on the floor among your mess of clothes. Leaving in a matching pink panty set and socks. You grabbed your walkman and pulled the headphones over the curls of your hair. 

You mess with the player, rewinding to get back to the first song. You and Mary-Ann made a bunch of cassette tapes of your favorite songs. Took forever, but so worth it. 

Pressing play, you listened to the cheerful synthetic beat synth and a grin appeared across your face. 

I come home in the morning light

my mother says when you gonna live your life right

oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones

and girls they want to have fun

oh girls just want to have fun

You clipped the walkman onto your french-cut panties, and began to rock your hips back and forth to the beat of the song.

The phone rings in the middle of the night

my father yells what you gonna do with your life

A flip of hair back and forth, curls bouncing and falling over your shoulders

oh daddy dear you know you're still number one

but girls they want to have fun

oh girls just want to have

Some fun

Wanna have

You brought your arms up, as you closed your eyes and began mouthing to the words, swinging your hips in a flamboyant manner that matches the song. 

Girls, they want, wanna have fun

Girls, wanna have

You rolled your head, eyes still closed,

That's all they really want

some fun

when the working day is done

you know girls, they want to have fun

You danced around the room, kicking clothes in the air, not a care in the world. The upbeat synth filled your core, excitement buzzing through you-

Some boys take a beautiful girl

and hide her away from the rest of the world

I want to be the one to walk in the sun…

Oh, girls, they wanna have fun

Oh, girls just wanna have

A spin, your curls flying

That's all they really want

some fun

when the working day is done

you know girls, they want to have fun

Oh, girls just wanna have fun

You mimicked dance moves you’ve watched on MTV, a few steps forward, a shimmy of your shoulders. God, you must look so hot right now!

You opened your eyes, looking in the mirror in front of you, admiring the way your body looked,

When your heart dropped. 

You almost didn’t notice it at first.

Him

A shadow, standing in the darkness of your hallway, right outside the doorway. A tall, dark, looming figure whose whites of his eyes you could barely make out- staring right at you. 

You slowly turned around, your lips parted, your heart frozen, and your blood cold.

Girls, they want, wanna have fun

Girls wanna have

The song continues playing, blaring in your ears- making you think your heart did physically stop because you couldn’t even hear your heartbeat. You stare at the figure, eyes wide, he was nearly as tall as your doorway! 

He took a step forward into the light of your room, barely lit by your lamp. You audibly gasped. 

A beastly, muscular man. He wore some type of metal helmet on his head, cage-like in appearance- very gnarly. Brown, scraggly grown-out hair down to his shoulders, a thick, ungroomed beard. His eyes narrow and focus on you. Nostrils flaring with each breath, a mean scowl that should scare you. Except it didn’t.

Your eyes trailed over the muscular body, you have never seen a man look so…Tasty before. Hair, strong, tense arms, you could make out each vein, flexed against his skin. His toned stomach tensed and flexing with each breath. A hairy trail that led down to…

You gasped, your lips parted in an O shape. 

Wow! He’s…..

Huge!

Now, you haven’t seen a lot of penises in your 22 years of living, having only lost your virginity on your 18th birthday (a major disappointment)  and only gathered a body count of just 4 guys (each a step up from the last!), and you did see some dicks in a dirty mag that you and Mary-Ann giggle over in the bookstore. None of them looked like his though. 

You bit your lip and looked up at the strange, feral man. 

“So uh..What’s your name?” You ask, tipping your chin up, attempting to straighten your shoulders. “Got a reason to be in my house?” 

A snarl on his face, as he stepped forward. 

It happened so fast. 

You didn’t even know what hit you, literally.

One moment, you’re dancing to your favorite song in your underwear - the next, a strange naked man with an absolutely bodacious body tackles you! 

There was an initial struggle. Your mirror got knocked over, and your lamp fell to the floor, distorting the light of your bedroom. Blankets pulled off your mattress, your jewelry box fell to the floor in a loud clatter as tangled necklaces and bracelets scattered. Your prized walkman was safely discarded in the pile of laundry.

Legs pushed up in the air, and you let out a loud gasp. 

The man's face pressed to your cloth pussy- as he takes a deep inhale, his nose digging into the space where your clit was located. He let out a strangled groan, before taking another inhale, and you felt yourself grow wet from the sound. 

Bobby Wilkins never smelled you like that!

The man sat up, his hands grabbing the cloth that covered your mound, and ripped it off you with ease- making you yelp. I spent money on that!

His teeth gritted, his nostrils flaring, he looked up at you, before reaching out and ripping your bra off too - for good measure, apparently. Your tits jiggled from the harsh movement, his eyes watching them, as you attempted to push yourself up.

His hand pushed you harshly back to the ground, as he returned to his previous task. A small grunt escaped him as he pressed his nose to your pussy again, another deep breath and a deep moan that sounded human came out of him. Wasting no time, he buried his face into your pussy, his tongue lapping you up. 

“Oh!” You squeaked, your hands grabbing onto the cage-like helmet on his head, gripping it to anchor yourself. You felt his tongue dip into your hole, and gasped, eyes squeezing shut from the stimulating pleasure that was brought on to you. “Oh my God-” you whined, “You’re SO much better than Bobby Wilkins!” 

You arched your back, spreading your legs wider as you thrust your hips against him. An angry grunt escaped him from your squirming, as he grabbed the back of your knees, pushing them down to your sides, rendering you barely able to move as he planted his face back into your pussy, his tongue lapping into you hungrily, his long beard scratching your inner thighs.

You moaned the position you were forced into helplessly. The pleasure of the wild man's tongue made you not even consider how terrible of a situation this is. For you, you were just getting the best head of your life.

A fiery feeling built in your lower stomach. Your toes curled, rhythmic pleasure erupting through you, as you felt yourself tightening over his tongue. A loud cry escaped you as you threw your head back, your legs shaking and trembling from the overwhelming sensation. 

Is that what an orgasm feels like?!

Despite your past relationships, and assuming you did have an orgasm before, your world was now turned upside down. Or actually- right side up.

That was the most orgasm you ever had. 

Your legs went limp, falling to the ground as the man sat up. He grabbed you by the neck, pulling you up from the ground, teeth bared, his face and beard soaked with your wetness, he threw you onto the bed on your stomach. You pant to catch your breath, the high of cumming so hard you saw stars slowly coming down. 

You didn’t have time though, as you felt the man's legs bumping into yours, and before you knew it, his cock pressed into your hole. 

“Oh!” You gasped as you felt him push the tip in roughly before his entire member stretched you open. “Oh, my-” You let out a purr, body slumping into the mattress. You bit your lip, hiding the smile that grew across your face. Wait till Mary-Ann hears about this!

He thrusts inside you in one quick movement, setting your senses on fire as you lurched forward on the bed from the force. His hips flushed against your ass. Your legs shook from the nearly painful intrusion - but you loved it.

You always loved the tall, dark, mysterious men. Fantasies of dark strange men coming into your room just as he had. Mary-Ann thinks it's from the fucked up horror movies you've watched. You think it's because you're a romantic.

His hand came up and grabbed your curls in a fist, pulling your head back harshly as he pulled out to the tip, and slammed back into you. Your hands gripped the sheets, mouth hanging open as he began a brutal and rough pace, slamming his cock into your pussy over and over.

How radical!

His hand came down, pushing into your lower back and holding you in place. His lips curled into a snarl, his hand yanking your hair back harder- making you yelp, turning into a moan. 

For the first time in your life - You’re rendered speechless.

His pace never faltered, you felt that familiar tightening in your lower belly, as your hand reached around to grab his wrist, nails digging into his skin.

He let out a loud shout, as he slammed into you, deep inside, and you felt a warmness filling you up. He didn’t let go of his hold on your hair, panting as ropes and ropes of his cum filled you to the brim, slowly leaking out what could not fit. 

He pulled out, letting go of your body and stepping back from you, his cock hanging limply between his legs as he opened and closed his fists, staring down at your shivering form. A twitch of his dick, and slowly he became hard again. 

You caught your breath, your body shivering from the intensity of his cock slamming into you. A small disappointment rushed through you - you didn’t reach the second orgasm before he finished, but you felt on cloud 9 anyway. What this was, felt so much better than even smoking grass. 

“That was so-”

A yelp escaped you as he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your back, pushing you further up on your messy bed, he clambered over you. You watched his hard erect cock bouncing in shock. 

I didn’t know they could do that!

The boys you’ve been with, last only 2-3 minutes top, and can’t do anything else after. This wasn’t a boy though, this…this was a man. 

He’s a little weird. You’ll take him over Bobby Wilkins though, any day!

Your legs were pushed back to your shoulders, his hands a tight grip around your ankles as pinned you down. His cock ran through your messy folds, his cum leaking out of you. He angled himself, slamming back inside you, a sickly wet noise heard through the room, making you embarrassed at the sounds coming from you.

As if he doesn’t notice anything other than how good your tight pussy feels.

He resumed a brutal pace into you- except this position felt so much better. His cock hitting that spot inside you that you thought was a myth!

He was grunting, staring down where he was rutting into you, his hips flushed against yours as he buried every inch of himself inside you. A small whine escaped his lips as he tipped his head back, panting over how good you felt. 

When he smelled you, the moment he walked into the house- everything else was forgotten. His orders to kill a man deemed a threat, who is supposed to be in this house. All he could smell though, was you. It drove him feral, the need to claim you, breed you. 

Then he saw you, dancing, carefree, happy.

It triggered something in him. A realization that he wasn’t free. 

His mind was fuzzy a lot of the time. His brain was filled with orders on what to do, how to do it. Torture and pain were all he knew. Occasionally, he can break free from the brainwashing, from being a mindless animal - able to fight back just for a bit until they torture him again until he can do nothing but comply. 

What he was doing to you, was a mix of both instinct and desire. A desire for control, of doing what he wanted. 

When you didn’t recoil from his presence when he didn’t smell the fear from you. He took it as permission. 

His hands came around your throat, fucking you faster in an inhuman pace. Your legs perched on his shoulders. A loud, repeated smacking sound filled the room. 

You looked up at the feral man, and for a moment you saw a flash of humanity in his eyes. Pretty eyes, never seen a boy with such pretty eyes, you couldn’t help but think to yourself. His hands wrapped around your throat, choking you only slightly- but not enough that he told you he was aware. 

Your eyes trailed down to the dog tags dangling around his neck. You could barely read them, only seeing a flash of the name; Wolverine

What kind of name is that?

Your thoughts go blank, as he angle himself and fucked up into you, and that building feeling in your lower belly snapped once more- waves and waves of the ecstasy earlier- only much stronger this time flooded through you, as your body tensed, your back arching and your mouth opened in an O shape as you cried out. 

Tears flooded your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you were pushed into overstimulation. Electric shot up your spine with each thrust, your hips thrusting up into his with each of his sharp thrusts, slowly melting back into something honey-like as his cock pounded into you.

His hands removed from your neck, moving down to your hips, gripping them so tight- his nails digging into your skin painfully, but only spurred you on. 

Your hands fisted the sheets, as you tilted your head to the side, and he saw his chance. Leaning down, he bit into the crook of your neck, his canines piercing your skin and drawing blood. The taste of iron on his tongue, as he began to moan, eyes rolling back as he clamped down on you, rutting into you and filling you up with his cum for a second time. 

The cold metal of the helmet around his head pressed into your flushed cheeks as he buried his face into your neck - and you wondered why he was wearing something so strange - and so grody!

You heard the sound of cloth ripping - but your ears were ringing too loud for you to confirm what it was.

His cock twitched inside you, releasing the last bits of his cum. He laid over the top of you for longer this time, and you caught your breath- wondering what was next. Your body was humming in pleasure, and carefully you brought your hands up to his arms. Sweat clung to his skin, his muscles hard and tense, flinching at the touch of your hands. 

He lifted his head up, looking at the mark he’d left on your neck. His eyes turned to you, staring down at you in a possessive way. He leaned down to your ear, a deep grumble escaping him as he spoke for the first time. 

“You’re mine.” 

It sent chills down your body, and your pussy tightened around him at the words. 

Wow!

He sure does know how to sweet talk!

“How much money do you make?” You ask, voice raspy. “A girl's gotta make sure she’s taken care of first.”

He stared down at you, and you’re not sure if it was bewilderment or anger on his expression. He roughly stood up, pulling out of you as your limbs feel weakly against the mattress. He grabbed your ankles, pulling you off the mattress and onto the floor, pulling you up onto your knees. You gasped, exhaustion screaming at you, but moaning when he grabbed and fisted your hair again. 

“It’s not a dealbreaker but-” 

You were interrupted as he shoved his cock into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back, gagging as his cock hit the back of your throat. A grunt escaped him, and he fisted both hands into your hair, as he began to face-fuck you. 

He was not nearly done with you.

When you woke up, you were in your bedroom, sprawled across the floor- completely ruined. 

Your muscles were on fire, and your throat hurt terribly, you could barely feel your legs. You glanced around the room, searching for the man, for Wolverine. 

Figures he leaves without a note.

Using what little strength you had left- you pushed yourself up to your feet, using the wall to balance you as you walked across the hall to the bathroom, flipping on the cold light.

You looked at your ruined self in the mirror. Your makeup was smeared over your face, mascara ran down your tear-stained face, small bruises lined your neck and collarbone, and you softly touched the spot where you could see the imprints of the man - Wolverine - teeth, scabbed over. You softly brushed your fingers over it, lips parted as a small breath escaped you. 

You stared at the mark, before looking back at your face in the mirror. A wild grin grew on your face, and you nodded slowly biting your lip.

Bitchin!

10 Years Later

“Logan, don’t forget, we have a visitor coming today, I may need your assistance to keep her busy until I can talk to her,” Charles calls out as Logan begins to leave the room. Logan stopped, quaking a brow.

“Who?”

“She’s the woman I told you about. Running for governor in New York. Her father was an old friend of mine.”

“Politician? No thanks.” Logan shook his head. Xavier rolls his eyes. “I only put up with Hank because he’s earned it. The rest of me can stuff it.” 

“You would have liked them. Her father was the only member of Congress to openly speak out about issues regarding the silent war between mutants and non-mutants. He was the only non-mutant supporter for years. We owe it a lot to him for opening the conversation and not backing down, and his daughter has followed greatly in his footsteps.” 

Logan crossed his arms. “It doesn't matter. These people become corrupt anyway.”

Charles sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Just, give her a tour of the place. All I need you to do. She should be here soon.”

Logan flares his nostrils, “Fine.” He turned and left the room, an aura of pissiness following him and Charles shook his head. 

“Always so rebellious…” He mutters under his breath. 

Logan stepped outside to the front of the mansion, and that's when he saw a car pulled up. At first, he didn’t think it was the woman Charles had talked about. It was a nice car, but not something a governor would drive, they typically had security with them anyway.

He watched, with his arms crossed as it parked, and the driver's side door opened. The chorus of Cyndi Laupers “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” flowing out of the car, before it was shut off.

That’s when you stepped out.

Dressed in a black pin-stripe suit, a pencil skirt that stopped above your knees, red heels to match your lipstick. Your hair is pulled up into a clean, professional bun. Gold hoop earrings accented your features, and a necklace with an X pendant was hanging from your neck

You were chewing gum as you surveyed the estate. 

Pretty place, it reminds you of your childhood home.

You grabbed your bag from the car, pushed the door closed, and walked over to the walkway that led to the front of the mansion, your heels clacked against the concrete and you reached the steps- looking up and seeing the man standing before you, watching you with a frown and a quirk of his brow. 

Your red-painted lips grew into a grin, as you slowly walked up the steps, not looking away from the handsome man staring down at you with that all to familiar scowl.

“Well, hello again.” You greeted once you reached the top step. 

Logan blinked in confusion. His brows creased together. “Excuse me?” He shook his head, as his eyes trailed over your body. You did look a tad familiar. He just couldn’t place you. 

“It’s been a long time, Wolverine.” 

You eyed him like a predator, but your smile screamed friendliness. Your eyes darted down, your hand reaching for the tags that rested around his neck. He stared at you incredously. 

“Though, I’m glad to see you’re in a much better state than when we last met.” 

“What?” He shook his head. You hummed at his confusion. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended you don’t remember me. I read your files.” You say, a click of your tongue and a shake of your head. “It’s been a long time and you’ve been through a lot.” You tilted your head, your eyes looking sympathetically at him. 

“Ah you arrived dear.” Charles voice snapped your attention from Logan. You smiled warmly. 

“Hello professor.” You greet him as he was in the doorway. “I was just saying hello to Mr. Howlett.” 

Charles smiled, his eyes darting between you both, and a moment of confusion appeared on his face. “Yes, Logan was so kind to offer to give you a tour of the mansion when you arrived, but my schedule opened up. Would you like to come with me?”

“I would absolutely love to professor.” You beamed. You looked back at Logan, who still held a look of bewilderment. You stepped forward and leaned into his ear, “By the way, I’m still yours.” You whispered. 

He turned to look at you, surprise on his face and you winked, before turning to head inside, taking Charles hand. Logan watched you with wide eyes and parted lips until you both disappeared around the corner. 

Faint memories played in his head, memories from a time he rather not remember - but you, with your red lipstick - 

Oh fuck

He took a step to the doorway, shock coursing through him. Then confusion, bewilderment, perplexed.

Then, he felt a twitch of his cock in his denim. 

[loulou-land]

Don’t Leave Me (I’m Staying)

This was meant to be a tiny lil ficlet based on a prompt line (that I didn’t even end up using in the actual fic) and then it turned into this…a drunk bucktommy fix-it of sorts lol. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy it! Ps. Tommy is hard on himself in this one and blames himself entirely for the break up, that in no way represents my opinions on the matter. It’s just how it turned out in this fic 😋

bucktommy | wc: 2,711 | post break up, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort |

Read here or on ao3

The call came in a little past midnight. Tommy had gone to bed early—after the usual romantic comedies failed to hold his attention and only made him feel more miserable. He’d hoped for a rare, dreamless sleep. But instead he found himself trapped in one of his recurring nightmares—memories of leaving the loft, ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him—when the sharp ring of his phone jolted him awake, his heart pounding before his brain caught up.

Squinting at the screen, his breath hitched.

E. Buckley

He almost dropped his phone in his haste, thumb fumbling to answer the call before it stopped ringing.

“B—Buck?” he stammered. “Are you okay?”

There was a pause, and then a voice that was definitely not Evan’s, heavy with irritation and booze, spoke.

“Hey, this Tommy?”

Tommy frowned, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, that’s me. Where’s Evan? Is he okay?” His mind raced, already conjuring a million scenarios, none of them good.

“Define ‘okay’,” the guy snorted. Tommy’s stomach dropped before he focused on the rest of the words. “Your boy’s shit-faced. Keeps crying and saying your name. Maybe come get him so the rest of us can drink in peace?” the man slurred.

Tommy’s heart lurched at the thought of Evan crying. He forced out a tight thanks to the drunk man, getting the name of the bar while he yanked on his jeans and boots. Thirty-five minutes later, he was parked in front of a dingy-looking dive lit by flickering neon signs and plastered with shady looking posters promising “quality alcohol.”

For a moment, he debated calling someone else—Eddie, or maybe even Sergeant Grant—but then wondered why Evan would come to an out of the way dive like this, alone. Steeling himself, Tommy decided to go in, keeping 9-1-1 dialed on his phone, just in case.

It didn’t take long to find him. Evan was sprawled over the bar top, head buried in his folded arms, his curls sticking out every which way. Tommy’s heart raced at the sight of him, as well as feeling an overwhelming sense of relief at once again being in the same room as Evan.

Tommy made his way through the bar, clocking in all the exits and keeping an eye on the other patrons, bracing himself for any trouble.

“Hey, Ev—Buck,” he hastily corrected himself, as he came up beside him. “Let’s get you home.”

Bleary baby blue eyes lifted, unfocused but just as bright as always. A lopsided grin spread across Evan’s face.

“Tommy” he slurred, his voice full of unguarded wonder. “My Tommy.”

Tommy’s chest tightened painfully at Evan’s words. He knew he’d be Evan’s until the day he died—leaving that night hadn't changed that, had only made it worse. It had made him realize that Evan was it for him. But it also confirmed what he’d always feared: Evan deserved more than a broken man like him. Still, hearing Evan call him his, ignited a flicker of hope he couldn’t afford to acknowledge. Not right now.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispered. “You okay, Buck?”

“Nooo,” Evan protested, shaking his head so vehemently he almost tumbled off the stool, if not for Tommy catching him and keeping a steady hand on him.

“Not Buck,” Evan mumbled, burping mid-sentence. “Not to you. Ev…Evan,” he said, poking Tommy in the chest and trying to glare at him—a glare somewhat softened by the way he kept squinting and hiccuping.

Tommy exhaled a shaky laugh, a pang of something tender and broken twisting deep in his chest. Even like this, Tommy couldn't help but be absolutely endeared by the other man.

“Alright, Evan. Let’s get you out of here.”

“I don’t want to go home, it’s empty a…and—lonely” Evan replied quietly, eyes shifting away as he made himself smaller.

“Hey, no…it’s okay.” Tommy’s heart cracked, guilt taking hold of him. “I’ll take you to Eddie’s—”

“Ha!” Evan cuts in, chuckling bitterly. “No, that’s empty too.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy frowned, feeling a sense of foreboding creep up on him.

“He’s in Texas, looking at houses,” Evan paused, exhaling deeply. “He’s leaving…everyone leaves me. Why—” He trailed off, slumping as though the weight of everything was suddenly falling over him.

Tommy went rigid, the raw vulnerability in Evan’s voice cutting through him like a blade. Tommy thought he had braced himself for whatever tonight would bring but he hadn’t prepared for this—seeing the possible aftermath of his absence carved into the man he loved.

“Okay,” Tommy said, his resolve crumbling. His next words came out hesitantly, almost afraid…of what, he didn’t know. Rejection or the thought of what would come after—inevitably breaking his own heart again. “I’ll take you to my house.”

He knew it was selfish, he didn't have a right to this anymore, no right to be the one Evan leaned on. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to take care of Evan, just for tonight, even if saying goodbye in the morning might destroy him.

“With you?” Evan asked, his voice trembling with disbelief as he looked up at him.

Tommy’s stomach dropped. “Yeah, sweet…heart,” his voice catching on the endearment that slipped out. “With me. I want to make sure you're okay. Is that alright? I can call Bobby or Hen if you’d rather—”

“No!” Evan yelled, eyes wide and glassy. “Take me with you, please?”

“Shh,’’ Tommy soothed, gently brushing away the tears gathering at the edges of Evan’s eyes. “Don’t cry, honey. You can come with me.”

It took some effort to get him upright, but eventually, Tommy had an arm around Evan’s waist and one of Evan’s draped over his shoulder as they headed for the door.

Suddenly, a man stepped in front of them.

“So, you came for your boy?” the man slurred, swaying unsteadily. Tommy recognized his voice as the caller.

Tommy tensed, his mind racing through potential threats, readying himself to protect Evan. Only, instead of hostility or the expected homophobic barb, the man pointed a half-empty beer at him and said, “You better fix it. Take him home and grovel.”

Tommy blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…yeah,” he managed, unsure how else to respond.

The drunk shook his head and stumbled back toward the bar, muttering incomprehensible things all the while.

Tommy exhaled deeply. “Alright, let’s get out of here,” he muttered, tightening his grip on Evan as they headed for the exit.

______________________________________

The drive to his house was quiet, except for the occasional hiccup or muttered word from Evan.Tommy had gotten him to drink a full water bottle, before Evan slumped against the passenger window for the rest of the trip. He did his best to drive carefully, not wanting to dislodge him or have him bump his head. Tommy kept his eyes on the road but couldn’t help glancing at him every few seconds.

When they finally arrived, Tommy parked and hurried to the passenger side, slipping an arm under Evan’s knees and bracing the other against his back. He lifted him with a grunt, feeling Evan’s steady weight against him as the other man buried his face in Tommy’s neck, sniffing deeply and mumbling against his skin. The sensation of Evan’s lips on his neck sent a shiver throughout his body.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy moved inside, carrying Evan to the couch. He eased him down gently, propping him up as he kneeled in front of him to tug off his shoes, feeling Evan’s eyes following his every movement as he did so.

Then Evan mumbled, hesitantly. “Tommy, I’m sorry…just, sorry.”

Tommy froze, his throat tightening. He looked up sharply. “Evan, you don't need to apologise for this. I'm always happy to help you,” he said, keeping his voice calm, trying to soothe him.

But Evan shook his head weakly, a new wave of tears spilling over his flushed cheeks. “No.” he whispered, voice breaking. “I'm sorry for being too much. For messing it all up. I always…jump ahead of myself and…I didnt mean to scare you away.” His voice trailed off in a pleading tone.

The words hit Tommy like an avalanche, burying him under their weight and his breath left him in a rush. His hands stilled, hovering over Evan’s untied laces as his chest clenched painfully. Too much? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. When Tommy left that night, he knew he was breaking both their hearts, but he thought Evan would be able to move on easily. He’d convinced himself that someone as bright, good and incredibly kind as Evan would find someone better—someone who really deserved him. And in the end, Tommy wouldn’t be missed.

But, he hadn't anticipated this. He hadn't anticipated this.

Tommy sat back on his heels, trembling as the realization of Evans words and his own actions crashed down on him. He needed to fix this. He couldn't live with himself knowing that this wonderful selfless man blamed himself for Tommy’s cowardice.

“Hey,” Tommy said softly, his voice catching in his throat as he tried to draw Evan’s eyes to his. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and brushing a stray curl from Evan’s damp forehead, his breath stuttering when Evan followed the motion.

Tommy swallowed hard in the silence of the room, broken only by Evan’s quiet sniffles.

“It wasn't you, okay? It wasn't you, Evan.” Tommy said, his voice thick, as he emphasized Evan’s name, needing him to understand that. “This…It was entirely on me.”

Evan frowned, the words lighting a fire in his eyes and stirring something defiant in him. His expression shifted, his mouth tightening as his brows furrowed in bitter disbelief. “Really?” He scoffed, voice cutting. “You're giving me the "it's not you, it's me" line?” A bitter laugh spewing from his mouth. “They all leave me, but it's okay…because it's not me,” he said derisively.

Evan sucked in a shuddering breath, his voice cracking when he spoke again. “You want to know something funny? I didn't think you’d leave. But—” His hands rose up to his face, gripping it as though trying to keep the words in, before giving up. They dropped limply to his lap.

Tommy’s heart twisted, knowing what was coming. He could already feel the sting of it.

“You left. You left me, Tommy.”

Evan’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the words still reverberated in the room.

And Tommy shattered.

Those words, they obliterated him. Every defense he had crumbled, leaving him raw and exposed, guilt bleeding through every crack. He felt the tears running down his face, and he tried to hold himself together—not wanting Evan to see what his words had done to him. But wasn’t that the very thing that had brought them here? Tommy hiding himself away from the world, scared to show himself for fear of being hurt. But he was already hurting—and had been from the moment he walked out the door that night.

He looked up at Evan, whose face was heartbreakingly vulnerable, tears shimmering in his blue eyes, but completely open to him, his pain laid bare for Tommy to see. It was only fair, Tommy did the same.

“I know,” Tommy rasped, voice thick and uneven. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

He pressed a hand to his chest—instinctive, desperate—as if trying to hold his heart together.

For one wild moment, Tommy wished he could rip it out and hand it to Evan, to show him that it had always been his. From the day Evan had smiled at him after a hurricane rescue gone well, Tommy’s heart had belonged to him. It always would. Instead, his fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt, useless, trembling, trying to show how much he meant it.

“I’m so sorry, Evan,” he whispered again.

Evan blinked at him, fresh tears spilling over as he exhaled a trembling breath. The room was silent save for their uneven breathing. They just looked at each other, months of pain and longing passing unspoken between them.

Then, they moved at the same time—Tommy leaning forward, giving in to the urge to touch, to comfort, to heal. He gathered Evan in his arms, pulling him close.

“You didn’t mess anything up, baby.” Tommy murmured, the endearment coming out naturally again. He felt Evan’s head drop to his shoulder, shuddering against him. “I did. I was scared. Scared of you seeing the real me…the broken man behind the façade. And I thought—” he stopped, his throat closing up painfully for a second. “I thought leaving would protect my heart. That it would be better if I left before I got in any deeper. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t any better. Oh god…Evan.”

A sob tore through him as he held Evan tighter, his grip unyielding, as if letting go might break him once and for all. Evan’s arms wrapped around him just as fiercely, his hands clutching at Tommy’s back with equal desperation.

For the first time in months, Tommy let himself feel everything he’d been holding back. The pain of being apart from Evan, the weight of his regrets and endless “what ifs’ that had haunted him—all of it poured out in body shaking sobs. But this time, he wasn't alone. Evan was there, holding him through it.

And Tommy felt Evan’s pain too—he accepted it, welcomed it, knowing he had caused it. It was his to carry, and he’d carry it for as long as he needed to.

Evan didn't say anything for a while, his face buried against Tommy's neck as he took in shaky, uneven breaths—shivering in his arms. When Evan finally spoke, his voice was a broken whisper. “It hurt. It hurt so much, Tommy.”

Tommy swallowed hard, his throat tightening with emotion. He nodded, taking responsibility for the hurt, before giving in to the need and pressing a soft kiss to the side of Evan’s head.

He knew Evan wasn't trying to hurt him with those words. He just wanted Tommy to understand and…he did.

Tommy’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper when he at last pulled himself together. “I can’t take away what I did, but if you’ll let me…I’ll do my best to make it better.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with a promise Tommy didn’t intend to break. Evan pulled back, searching his face before taking both of Tommy’s hands in him, squeezing emphatically with every word that spilled from him. “We…We will make it better. Together an—and, we’re going to stay for each other. O—okay?” he stuttered.

Tommy felt something click, something slot back inside of him—relief, grief, hope, love—all fitting together in a way that finally made sense. “Okay.” he answered, unhesitatingly, with the full conviction of a man who’d gone through hell and made it out.

Evan sighed, slumping fully against him in relief. Slowly, the tension drained from his body, his breathing evening out as exhaustion and the lingering effects of the alcohol took over.

Tommy shifted, settling them down to lay on the couch, his arms still wrapped securely around Evan. He felt completely wrung out, pulled inside out, but for the first time in months, he felt no regret.

He looked down at Evan, now curled up against him, his face tranquil and smoothed in sleep. Tommy brushed a hand lightly over his back, grounding himself in the reality of holding him again.

Tomorrow, they would talk. Whether Evan remembered tonight or not, Tommy would lay everything out again. He’d fight for them—for the second chance he’d been too afraid to ask for before. Therapy, hard conversations, whatever it took.

Because now he knew. He’d finally realized what he should have understood all along: Evan deserved someone who would stay.

And Tommy was done running.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but his mind flashed to Evan squeezing his hands and promising they’d do it together. Hope flickered unwaveringly in his chest, easing the ache in his heart and, at long last Tommy felt like he could breathe again.

Evan stirred slightly, his fingers twitching against Tommy’s arm as he mumbled, “Stay.”

Tommy pressed a kiss to Evan’s hair as he whispered “I’m not going anywhere, love. Not this time.”

And he meant it.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i hate this title but i LOVE this fic! i had so much fun writing it, obviously inspired by the tik tok trend lol. also when i started this fic last week, the cookies were different but then this week actually did include banana cream pie so i had to change them 😂 and then had to do a little rewrite obviously. but yeah, go check out the isles q&a on their favorite desserts bc they’re all adorable

tw: tooth rotting fluff, extremely minor insinuation of a daddy kink

word count: 2.3k

summary: you take advantage of mat’s sweet tooth to trick him into doing a tik tok video with you

“Hey,” you call out for Mat from your perch on the couch, one foot wedged in between the couch cushions and your phone resting on your thigh. You can hear him rummaging around in the fridge and the noise stops temporarily.

“Hey,” he calls back, “what’s going on?” The rummaging noises start up again and you grin to yourself. If he’s hungry, your little plan will work perfectly.

You crunch up into a sitting position and drape your arms over the back of the couch, watching Mat as he moves things around in the fridge, looking for something to eat. “Do you want to go to Chip City with me?” You ask. “I want to make like one of those TikToks, you know where they rate the cookies of the week?”

Mat’s nodding and closing the fridge before you even finish speaking. “Oh, hell fucking yes,” he grins, skirting around the kitchen island and stopping behind the couch. You reach out and tug at the belt loops on his jeans, laughing. “You know I’m always down for cookies.”

“I know,” you tease, unfolding from the couch and getting to your feet. “That’s why I suggested it. I can always count on you to validate my sugar cravings.”

He smiles his crooked little smile and readjusts his hat, the new Stay GOALd collaboration with Ralph Macchio, raking his hand through his hair before settling the hat on backwards. Your stomach flips a little at how good he looks. “Babe, we need to stop talking and start driving,” he says, totally seriously.

“Chill, Cookie Monster,” you follow him to the front door, stepping into your ratty Forces. The leather is more grey than white now and creased beyond belief, but they’re comfortable and you can slide them on and off without having to do the laces. “I doubt they’re going to run out of cookies in the ten minutes it takes to get there.”

“Never know,” Mat shrugs, tossing your car keys at you. You barely catch them, fumbling a little before your fingers hook on the beaded keychain. “Your car’s behind mine, you drive?”

You wrinkle your nose, when Mat’s home you’d rather be the passenger princess, but you also hate it when he readjusts your seat to fit his longer legs. “Fine,” you mumble, locking the door behind him, “but that’s the last bit of driving I’m doing all weekend.”

He swoops in to press a kiss to your forehead, “your wish is my command, Princess Squeaks.”

With a delighted smile, you hop into the driver’s seat of your car, turning it on while Mat buckles up in the passenger seat. He leans back in the seat, the brim of his backwards cap hitting against the headrest and popping the front of the hat off his head. “Damn,” he mutters, quickly fixing it and sitting forward. “So, wait, if you make one of those videos, what are the chances we get a Chip City influencer deal? Are we looking at free cookies for life?”

“Um, no,” you wince when you take a turn a little too quickly, clipping the curb. Hoping Mat will ignore that, you continue quickly, “I don’t think free cookies for life is a thing? Maybe some like coupons or extra point perks? Honestly, it’ll probably be nothing other than a comment and a like.”

“For life will be a really short period if you keep driving like a blind lunatic,” Mat teases you, laughing loudly when you lift your hand from the steering wheel to flip him off.

“You’re the one who told me to drive,” you counter.

Mat snags your hand out of the air and laces his fingers with yours, settling the back of his hand on the center console. “That’s only because I forgot what an insane driver you are,” he laughs, dramatically letting his body bounce forward and back in the seat when you come to a sharp stop at a red light.

You roll your eyes and make a point of driving exactly the speed limit and taking turns super carefully until you pull into the parking lot. When he hops out of the car, Mat wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close to his side. You snuggle up, wrapping your arm around his waist, car keys jangling in your hand as you walk. “Babe, you can drive like Vin Diesel all you want when I’m not in the car,” he says as you walk up the sidewalk to Chip City. “Lou might consider it a breach of my contract if you drive like that when I’m in the passenger seat.”

“Breach of contract!?” You yelp, pinching his side while he lets loose one of his contagiously loud laughs. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“But you love me,” Mat states matter-of-factly, breaking contact with you to pull open the door and hold it for you. You hum happily, immediately hit with the delicious scent of baked cookies. Behind you, Mat lets out a quiet groan and you laugh at his dramatics. “Jesus, it always smells so good in here,” he falls into line behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“If I worked here, I’d be three hundred pounds from sampling cookies every day,” you comment, turning to the mirror on the wall and lining up your face with the milk moustache decal for a selfie. You nudge Mat into place next to you and he crinkles his whole face up into a cheesy grin just for you. You snap the picture and shuffle forward as the person at the register leaves, moving the line up. Mat shuffles behind you, stepping on the heels of your sneakers and mumbling apologies.

While you wait, you look at the merch on the walls, joking with Mat that you’re going to get him the cookie shaped backpack for him to put his stuff in on game days. Before he can retort, you’re at the case and the worker is asking you how many cookies you want.

“Um, let’s do six?” You say, voice ticking up in a question for Mat. He nods, barely listening to you as he squints at the cookies. They’ll be gone in two days.

“Definitely need the cookies and cream,s’mores and oh, fuck yes, banana cream pie,” he points at each cookie as he names the flavor. “Babe?”

“I’ll do the specialty ones,” you say, “dark chocolate peanut butter, white chocolate macadamia, and brookie, please.”

“I love bananan cream pie cookie week,” Mat comments dreamily, looking like Pepe Le Pew when the cartoon skunk’s eyes turn into hearts when he spots the female skunk. He grins at you when you stick your finger in your mouth, fake gagging.

“Ugh, disgusting,” you shake your head. “Your love for banana cream pie is your biggest red flag.”

The woman behind the counter boxes everything up and you tap in your phone number to get rewards points before stepping to the side so Mat can pay. He smirks at you, tapping his card against the reader, and quietly, so no one else can hear, murmurs, “say ‘thank you, daddy.’”

A laugh startles out of your chest and you shake your head, cheeks flushing hot. “No, nope. I’m not saying that, Mathew.” Your fingers tremble a little around the box of cookies.

Mat’s hand is huge and warm on your lower back as he guides you out of the store, the sudden cool air a relief to your cheeks. He chuckles and flexes his fingers against your back. “Worth a shot,” he teases. “One day I’m gonna get you to say it.”

“It won’t be of my own accord,” you wrinkle your nose at him, stomach flipping a little bit. You refuse to analyze the excitement building low in your stomach and instead march determinedly back to your car. You had a plan for today and it didn’t involve Mat being called ‘daddy’ in a public place. Or any place. Or ever.

“We’ll see,” Mat jokes, pulling open the door for you to hop in and then going around the front of the car to get in on the passenger side. You drop the cookie box on his lap and he immediately picks at the tape holding it shut with his thumbnail, ready to snag a bite.

“Wait for me to get set up!” You chastise him, flicking his fingers away from the box with one hand and pulling up TikTok with the other.

Mat keeps picking at the tape, “no one’s gonna notice, I’ll just break it in half.” He finally manages to get the tape off and pops the lid open, dramatically inhaling the scent of the cookies. “Oh, fuck yes. Babe, what a good idea.”

You grin at him and make sure your phone is set in the holder attached to your windshield so both you and Mat are in the shot. “I literally only have good ideas,” you pull the box of cookies back into your lap, ignoring Mat’s protests. “Ready?”

He nods and you reach forward to start the recording. “Hi guys!” You chirp into the camera. “Happy Saturday, Mat has a rare day off so I decided to rope him into my fun. Say hi, Mat.”

Mat looks up from his phone and parrots, “hi, Mat,” with a shit eating grin on his face.

“He’s the worst,” you roll your eyes affectionately and hold up the cookie box so it’s in frame. “Anyway, I wanted to do something different than the usual Crumbl cookie sampling, and since Chip City is in our town, I figured this was the best thing. I invited Mat, because, well, I’m not sure if you know this but my husband has the biggest sweet tooth.”

You fight to keep your face in a neutral expression, but can’t help the corner of your mouth ticking up when you see Mat’s eyebrows lift nearly into his hairline on screen. His own mouth tips down in a slight, curious frown, but he doesn’t say anything.

So you continue, “it’s not anything like my mother-in-law’s peach cobbler, but Mat will kill a chocolate chip cookie in record time.” You shift in your seat, turning to face him, and keep your gaze locked on a point in the middle of his forehead, because if you look him in the eye, you’ll crack up. “Which do you want to try first, babe? Wait, let me guess, banana cream pie?”

There’s amusement in his tone when he holds out his hand and says, “oh for sure. Hand it over!”

He squints at you and you avoid his gaze when you pass over the cookie. Pretending to think, you look down at the box, “I’m going to try the dark chocolate peanut butter first, I think. Unlike my husband,” you smile at the camera, holding up the cookie while you break it in half to show the melted peanut butter swirls on the inside, “I like my desserts a little less sweet. Lemon bars, carrot cake, cheesecake, that kind of thing. Last week was lemon berry, which is a top three cookie for me.”

You can see Mat jolt in surprise again on screen, his head swinging to look at you. His eyes are wide and his lips are fighting a laugh.

“Yeah,” Mat smirks at the camera, breaking his own cookie in half and taking a huge bite. He chews and swallows before continuing, “the wifey is pretty picky on her desserts.”

Mat’s words sink in and you do a double take, jaw falling open a little. Mat’s grin turns shit eating and he takes another huge bite of his cookie while you blink stupidly at him. “What-?” You frown, ignoring the way your heart is pounding and your stomach is clenching with the echo of Mat saying ‘wifey’ in your ear.

He licks a spot of whipped cream off the side of his thumb and your core throbs.

“Uno reverse, Squeaks,” Mat laughs. “Do you think you’re the only one with Tik Tok?”

“Oooh,” you scrunch your face up at him, “you knew what I was up to?” He nods and your hand shoots out to push at his shoulder.

“Hey!” He yelps, chuckling. “I figured it out when you referred to Mom as your mother-in-law.”

You put your cookie back in the box and tap the record button on your phone, ending the video. “I honestly thought you’d have a better reaction,” you laugh a little, pulling your left foot up onto the seat and turning completely so you’re facing Mat. You shift the box too, so it’s on top of the center console.

Mat talks as he swaps out his banana cream pie for a piece of the s’mores, a string of marshmallow connecting the broken piece from the rest in the box, “why? Not a secret that I’m gonna wife you up in the future. I like hearing you call me your husband.”

He says it so casually, so easily, that it shocks you a little. When you first met Mat, you had thought dating him would be a fun time, but you’d never imagined that you’d be here - with him talking about marriage as if it’s a foregone conclusion.

“Well,” you murmur, feeling warm and content, “for the record, I liked hearing you call me wifey. So I guess we’re even.”

Mat looks up at you, hazel eyes lit up and glowing where the sun hits his face. He looks even more edible than the cookies. “You called me husband twice, don’t think we’re even just yet…” he drags out the pause with a sly smile on his face and you think he may use the w-word again, but he just lets the silence linger, the possibility hanging in the air.

[whiskey-bumblebee]

Hey, hope you're doing good today 🤠 dbf!Hotch who notices reader "having trouble with her car" and he helps her? She's more than capable of doing it herself, but she just wanted a reason for Hotch to come over while her parents were away. She may or may not have self sabotaged it to get him over there shirtless in the blazing sun, offering a dip in the pool as repayment, but hinting at more 👁️🫦👁️ i hope that makes sense lol

I LOVE THIS IDEA! thank you bestie <3 get ready to meet the smartest bimbo ever

Uptown Girl

Pairing: dbf!Aaron Hotchner/Reader (gender neutral!)

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Innuendo, dbf!hotch (reader is an adult), brief mention of reader's parents (vague but they are Rich).

Tagging: @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat i think you two will like this <3

You can't hold back a smile as you dial Aaron's number from your parent's house phone. You twirl the cable around your finger as you glance around the freshly cleaned kitchen. There's a chilled bottle of San Pellegrino on the counter, the glass sweating from the heat. It's so quiet that you can hear birds outside, no doubt eating some fallen fruit from the trees outside the kitchen.

"Hello, Aaron Hotchner speaking."

"Hey Aaron Hotchner speaking," you tease. "My car won't start. I know it's your first weekend off for a while, but is there any chance you could come over and help me fix it?"

"Hmm," He says playfully. "And how do I know this isn't some elaborate ploy to spend time with me?"

"Come see for yourself," You reply, smiling. "It just won't start."

"Mhm," He agrees, and you can hear the humour in his tone. "And I suppose you can't just use daddy's Bentley?"

"Daddy doesn't drive a Bentley," You reply seamlessly.

Aaron's stumped for a second, and the line goes silent. "I thought he just bought a new one? A silver Continental?"

"Daddy drives a black Chevy Suburban," You say. (A/N: non-car besties: this is hotch's car <3)

Hotch clears his throat. "Baby, you can't just call me that."

"Aaron, please?" The playfulness has dropped out of your voice. "My car really won't start, and I'm supposed to meet my friend for tennis this afternoon."

"Of course," He replies. "Sorry, I thought you were just trying to convince me to come over."

"Would it be so terrible if I was?"

You feel a pat of guilt seep into your stomach, wondering if Aaron really did have more important things to do than attend to your car trouble.

"No," He adds, quickly. "I'd love to see you. Are you home alone?"

"My parents are in the Seychelles."

"Ah. So not home for dinner, I take it?"

You shake your head out of habit, then say no.

_______

When Aaron's black Chevy pulls up into your driveway, you come out onto the balcony and wave, then rush down the stairs to meet him. Sure enough, he sees your Corvette parked next to your dad's silver Continental.

"So you do have the Bentley," He teases, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist.

You kiss both his cheeks. "It's so good to see you."

"Well, you know why it's been so long," He sighs, caressing your cheek.

You look him over, his casual outfit throwing you off a little: dark blue Lacoste polo, straight-leg jeans, New Balance 574s. It was so different from his typical suit and tie, more dangerous somehow. Where you normally saw yourself as a paramour, sneaking in moments after work with your suit-clad lover, this felt more... ordinary. Like he was picking you up for a day of shopping, or to travel down to the yacht club. Like he might join you for tennis later. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, and to quell the fondness blooming in your chest.

"New York called, and I had to answer," You reply airily. "And you've been busy on cases, so it's not all my fault." You poke him squarely in the chest, and he smiles at the gesture.

"Alright, where's this car trouble you were telling me about?"

You lead him over to the spacious garage.

You slip into the driver's seat and turn the key. The car gives a few revs, then falls back into silence. You do it again for good measure.

"Let me try," Aaron says, leaning through the window.

He reaches into the car, turning the key himself. Sure enough, it doesn't start.

"Does your dad keep a set of car tools around in here somewhere?" He looks around.

You roll your eyes. "I have a set. I might be young and beautiful and wealthy, and young, and wealthy, and beautiful," You emphasize the repeated words, giving him a pointed look. "-but I'm not completely incompetent."

"Of course not, honey," He coos soothingly. "Are they in the back?"

You nod.

He walks around your car, and you watch him go in the side mirror, enjoying your view of his cute little ass in those jeans.

You hear his typical high laughter as he finds the tool set. When he walks around to the driver's side again, you smile innocently.

"What?"

He nods for you to get out, and holds up your tool set.

"The Swarovski crystals are a nice touch," He laughs. "And the pink."

"What? I can't have a cute little tool set to go with my cute little car?"

He rolls his eyes at you, but his grin tells you it's not with any real menace.

You hop out of the car and open the hood, leaning in just enough that you know your shorts will be showing off your assets.

"It's hot," You mention innocuously, and pull off your tank top, tossing it aside without looking back at him.

You hear Hotch take a deep inhale from directly behind you. "It is," he replies.

When you turn around, he's taken his own shirt off. There's just a small patch of chest hair, but the droplets of sweat are just glowing. He's as fit as ever, and you can't help yourself, you reach out and touch his chest.

"What are you doing?" He murmurs. "What about the neighbours?"

You pull away then, and look from side to side. "Aaron, do you seriously think we're close enough to any other houses that anyone will be able to see anything? It's like your place," You say, starting to run your hands down his abdomen. "And I'm sure you remember all of the mischief we..."

"4th of July weekend," He finishes. "I remember."

"You normally don't need much convincing," You say softly. "Is everything okay?"

He nods. "I'm just focused on trying to fix your car so you can go to tennis later. I promise, if we had a bit more time, I'd be all over you."

You smile at that. "Do you have time?"

Aaron leans in and nips at your earlobe. "I would've invited you over today to catch up. I was trying to come up with an excuse," He kisses your neck, "-when you called."

You catch his jaw in your hand and glance at his lips until you're sure he's caught you looking. His lips part, and his breathing turns slow and deep. That's all the encouragement you need, and you kiss him.

Your lips are soft and slow against his own. Immediately, his hands settle on your hips, ever the gentleman, not wanting to go straight for your ass. He does, however, nudge your legs apart so he can slot his thigh between them.

Whining softly, you rub yourself against his thigh.

"Can I be honest?" You gasp as he angles his knee just right, sending hot pleasure through your veins.

"Go ahead," He says coolly.

"I broke the car just so I could watch you come and fix it," You whisper.

Aaron smiles at the fact that you were also trying to come up with some excuse to see him, then his expression lapses into one of sympathy. "Oh, baby. You could've just called. You know I'll come running."

You press your face into his neck, embarrassed by how desperate you were to see him. It wasn't the fact that you wanted him that worried you. Any reasonable person would want him. He was tall, handsome, and had a dick the size of Saturn. No, it was your need that worried you. The deep-seated longing that settled onto you like dust whenever you didn't see him. Sure, you'd been having a great time in New York, meeting people, buying art, hanging out with your best friends, but it was hollow without him. More than once you'd thought of calling him on the hotel phone, letting his deep, calm voice lull you to sleep. You always felt your best when you were around him, like he drew out your best attributes in the same way that a perfect wine would match the meal, note for note.

"You smell so good," You breathe. "I want you all over me."

"We should fix your car first, or call a tow truck. I don't want you to be stranded," He said, stroking your hair.

You shake your head, a small laugh passing your lips.

"It's not that serious. Watch."

You turn your attention to the hood, and after a few minutes, you're in the driver's seat, starting your car as normal.

Aaron quirked his brow at you. "How did you do that?"

"I disconnected the starter relay earlier," You call, then walk back over to Aaron so you can show him. You open the hood again, then show him the plastic box where you can remove the relay from.

"It even has a little diagram showing you how to take it out," You point out, laughing to yourself.

"Right," Aaron replies. "And where exactly would someone like you learn how to do that?"

"Someone like me goes to a lot of parties. Nothing convinces a bunch of wasted rich kids not to drive quite like not being able to start their Lambos."

You can tell the way that Aaron's looking at you, so you don't look over at him.

"Don't do that," You mumble.

"Do what?"

"Look at me like that. Don't give me brownie points just for not being a total asshole."

Aaron sighs lightly. "Okay. But for the record, I think saving lives like that is commendable. Even if they're just 'wasted rich kids'."

"Alright," You say, closing the hood, trying to lighten the mood. "Do you want anything? Lemonade, coke?"

"I'm never sure if you're offering soda or something I could get in trouble for," He teases, catching your hand in his own as he follows you up the stairs to the house.

"Well, I'm sure my dad does have coke in the study, but if you're only looking for trouble," You pause in front of the door, turning around with a wide smile and your arms raised. "I'm right here."

"What about the tennis?" Aaron's already running his hands over your chest, nudging you through the doorway, towards the pool.

You grin. "She'll just have to play singles."

[imnotasuperhero]

Look into my eyes (search your soul)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your love for Wanda could make you go the distance and more, just to see her happy. 

A/N: I honestly don’t know what this is. Just a needed filler chapter for the final coming up? I should admit I’ve hit a wall that if it wasn’t for @wandabear​ who slapped me with out of the writers block i don’t know if I’d be able to continue this, lol. I just want to say that tooth-rotting fluff is coming. Hope you enjoy this mess (:

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII

Getting out of your car, you couldn’t help the smile growing by the second as your chest inflated with pride.

The house you’ve always wanted was about to be finished. After all the hard work and the re-designs, in just a few more days your forever home would be ready for you to fill with thousands of memories.

“Hi, James!” You greeted your contractor.

“Hi, Miss,” he bowed mockingly.

“Cut the crap, asshole.” You laughed at him.

“What? My salary after this will ricochet. It’s only fair I treat you as royalty.”

“We both know we’ve had bigger projects. Don’t you?” A raised eyebrow accompanied your smirk.

“This was the most challenging, though.” He countered as you both walked through the front door. “Which leads me to-”

“Please, no.” You whined disappointedly, feeling the happiness melting away.

“It’s big,” James informed. “Remember how we were greatly surprised the water pipelines were practically new?”

“I don’t get it. The inspection came out right.” You felt a tug at your heart as you spotted the huge hole in the floor.

“We still have to figure out exactly where the leak is. We’re waiting for the inspectors,” 

“How long?” You braced yourself as the anxiety took over.

“To move into the house? Around 7 weeks.” 

“The fuck? You know my lease ends in less than 6. Right?” You growled.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Might as well make sure everything is okay so you don’t have to fix it later on.” James reasoned.

Sighing, you just nodded defeatedly. The news about you being homeless even if for a bunch of days only increased the anxiety absorbing the reduced oxygen your lungs needed to function properly.

“Do you know a trusted storing company, by any chance?” You put your hands in the pockets of your jeans, trying to hide the shaking.

“I’ll send you the contact later, yes?” He looked up at you with a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you,” you smiled sadly before making your exit. You didn’t have it in you to inspect the remodeling anymore. Much less to ask about details.

Closing the car’s door harder than you should’ve, your fists collided against the steering wheel repeatedly. To say you were furious was an understatement. It was in times like these that you questioned how much of an asshole you have been in your past lives to be paying such karma. 

You see, having to ask for shelter wasn’t something that worried you because you knew your friends would happily take you in. But what upset you was that it happened right when you had not one but two different clients that had requested a 3D model of their projects. And if the chaos your workplace turned into had you moody, you didn’t want to imagine how it’d affect whoever decided to host you.

But before you could dwell too much into your disgrace, your phone took you out of your reverie.

“Yes?” You tried to steady your voice.

“Uhh, troubles in paradise?” You cursed yourself for failing such easy tasks.

“Don’t remind me,” you grunted. “What’s up, Bucks?”

“Everyone is here already. Don’t tell me you forgot?” You could hear the voices of your friends talking in the background.

“Right. I didn’t forget,” you sighed. “I’m on my way, now.”

The way to Natasha’s was spent trying to calm down your anxiety. Today was a day to just enjoy your friends' company and have some good times. There’d be time to worry about your problems later.

But of course, that was better said than done for as you raised your hand to knock on the redhead’s door, your phone started to ring and the name of your most exigent client flashed on the screen.

Inhaling a long breath, you picked up the call. “Good afternoon, Mr. Coleman,”

“Hello, darling. Is there any chance you could send me the design for the guest house?”

“But there are a few details to finish,” you reasoned with the old man as you smiled exasperated to the redhead at the other side of the door.

“I understand, but I’m here with my son and he wants to check it out before you finish it just to get-” You walked inside the apartment, plopping yourself on the three-body couch in the living room, not interested in the explanation the man provided you.

“Alright, Mr. Coleman. I’ll send you the sketch right now.” You bumped your head against the padded backrest of the couch repeatedly at the lack of room to scream. It wouldn’t be very professional of you, after all.

“Thank you, darling. Have a nice weekend.” The old man greeted and you could only answer in the most cheerful voice you could fake before hanging up and leaving a loud grunt.

“I want a sugar mommy,” you whined, earning the laughs of your friends.

“Didn’t peg you for a sugar baby,” Natasha scrunched her nose at the thought.

“Ehh. If the pay is worth it,” you shrugged looking around. “Where are my babies?” you pouted at Wanda.

“They’re with Vision,” the redhead smiled tenderly and you ignored the trembling of your heart.

“Bummer.” You sighed. “Nat? Can I borrow your laptop?” You then turned to the redhead, who was looking at you with a knowing smirk.

“Sure thing,” she pursed her lips trying to keep whatever she was thinking to herself, making it impossible for you to stay glued to the couch.

“Why you looking at me like that?” You questioned the older woman as you followed her to her study.

“Sugar mommy? Really?” Natasha laughed mockingly.

“You know it was just a joke, right?”

“Does Wanda, thought?”

“What does she has to do with that?” You frowned confused.

“Dude, you can’t say those things in front of her. She has it bad for you,” 

“Oh, shut up. She doesn’t.” You shook your head as you pressed the keys to access your email.

“I’m telling you, you’re so smart for a lot of things but so dumb when it comes to her.” Natasha walked away, leaving you dumbfounded with her words replaying in your mind. 

But there’ll be time to try and decipher her words later. Now, you have to tend to your irritating client.

After what seemed like a few minutes too long of you fumbling with the touchpad, you clicked on the ‘send’ button and logged out of your account, turning off the laptop in the process.

The way Natasha's eyes were set on you despite having her girlfriend by her side made Wanda's blood boil with jealousy. Even more so at the way you were fidgeting as you kept stealing glances at her. The secrecy of it all had Wanda's fingers itching to pat the redhead’s smirk away.

Truth be told, it's been a few days since Natasha had taken her place in your life. Granted, you still visited each other frequently like you used to. But most times than not, Natasha was present when Wanda visited you. And even though Wanda knew the redhead’s heart belonged to Maria, she couldn’t help the greeny monster taking over her.

"So, how's the house going?" Wanda's attention picked up at those words, turning her gaze to you.

"Painfully slowly going." You whined, chewing the bite you just took.

"I thought it was almost done?" Bucky asked.

Sighing, you positioned yourself with your back against the armrest of the sofa and Wanda couldn’t help the soft caress in her heart at seeing you so relaxed if it wasn't for the frown on your face.

"James found a leak in the water pipeline and it'll take longer for me to move in, so now I'll be homeless when my leash ends next month," you sighed looking down at your hands and Wanda's words stuck in her throat as Natasha beat her to it.

"That sucks. But you know you can stay with me for whatever long it takes. Right?" The redhead offered.

"And have Maria having a meltdown?" 

"Hey! I'm not that bad." The brunette complained.

"Who are you kidding? I can tell you the times you scolded me for being so careless when you saw me working," you chuckled heartily and Wanda couldn’t help giggling at the image playing in her mind.

"In my defense, it looks like a tornado passed by after you finish it." She shrugged.

Wanda didn't get to understand your retort as she was taken to the past, when she had stayed -multiple times- with you as you worked through the night building rooms and molding different miniatures of furniture out of cardboard and wood sticks as you created the mock-up of the design you were working on. Feeling the calm taking over her as she got to see you so at ease into your element even though it left you crying sometimes. The way you always patiently instructed her how to cut or glue the small objects had her heart skipping a beat when your hands would brush against each other. The calloused yet soft skin of your fingertips against hers had shivers running down her spine. 

The pang against her side had her back to the present as she looked at her brother, frowning when Pietro’s eyes were moving weirdly.

Raising an eyebrow, Wanda silently asked him what his problem was, only for him to signal at you with his blue eyes.

But even though they shared a special bond thanks to being twins, sometimes it took more than a look to communicate. 

And Pietro seemed to think the same as he sighed before he spoke. "Why don’t you stay with us?" Wanda's head tilted to the side as if her brother had grown a second head.

"Not sure it'd be ideal, Piet. With the twins and Wanda working from home, I don't want to impose," you nodded in the negative. Wanda's brain was trying to catch up with whatever was happening.

"Pretty sure Wanda wouldn’t mind. Right?" Wanda had to muffle a grunt as yet another finger poked at her side. Looking back at his brother, she saw him gesturing to agree with him.

"Of course not," Wanda tried to give the most convincing smile she could muster. "Lord knows I could have another adult by my side to try to understand the twins' babbling," 

"We'll see. I still have a few weeks to solve it." You shrugged it off, signaling the end of the discussion; leaving Wanda thinking about the prospect of you living in her house even if just for a few days and she’d be lying if the idea didn’t get her heart somersaulting.

The upcoming weeks we spent between you working nonstop trying to finish as much of your projects as you could just so you didn’t turn Wanda’s house into a mess with your supplies and boxing whatever you didn’t need for the time coming as your possessions along with your furniture would be sent to the storage facility James had recommended you.

“I finished with the kitchen,” Natasha spoke, walking into your room.

“Thank you,” you eyed her sitting on your bed, her green eyes looking at you expectantly. “Can I help you?”

“Maybe.” The redhead pursed her lips, obliging you to release a grunt as you busied yourself packing your clothes. “I need you to answer me something.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you took a ripped jeans from the pile you had decided would go to the storage, folding it neatly before you put it in the box.

“I’ve been thinking,” Natasha paused and it took all the patience you had just to swallow your growl. “What if you and Wanda get together? Where would you live?”

Her words had you turning your head so fast that you felt dizzy for a few seconds. “Where do you get that idea from?” You frowned as the redhead groaned painfully.

“I swear to God, you’re so dense, Y/N!” Natasha rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

“I'm not. It’s just-” You paused trying to organize your thoughts, too afraid to misunderstand the signals both your friends and Wanda constantly gave you.

“I don’t want to hurt,” you sighed defeatedly. “If she really felt something for me, she wouldn’t have rejected me for prom night.”

“We were kids back then,” the redhead took a seat beside you on the floor, taking the crumpled shirt off your hands. “She was afraid,” Natasha took your hands in hers, squeezing them.

“Afraid of what?” You felt your heart cracking at that confession. Why would Wanda ever be scared of you?

“That’s something you have to ask her,” Natasha spoke softly, almost pitifully. “But what I can tell you is that you just have to open your heart in order to see,” 

But before you could voice your feelings any further, the ringing of your doorbell had the redhead walking to greet your friends, ready to help you with the moving.

After having loaded all your furniture and boxes into the haul truck Bucky had managed to borrow from a friend, you both drove alongside Steve to the storage place while Natasha and Maria drove to Wanda’s with your baggage.

“I think we deserve a nice dinner as a welcome.” The blonde spoke, gaining your attention.

“It’d need more than a dinner to thank you, guys. You’re literal live savers,” you smiled truthfully.

“Ehh. It’s nothing, dude.” Bucky shrugged you off with his eyes glued to the road. “But you need to keep us updated.”

“With what?” You frowned at his words.

“With Wanda, you dummy,” Steve giggled.

“Not you too,” you whined, throwing your head back.

“What? We deserve the dits as your best men,” Bucky smiled toothily and you didn’t have it in you to break his heart.

“Can we not go there? It’s not like we’re moving in together,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yet. You’re not moving together, yet.” Steve corrected and your hand itched to lovely pat their faces.

To say the rest of the afternoon was full of mockery and laughs was an understatement. You barely had time to spend with the boys as adulthood had you all pretty busy, so you tried to make it the best of the day as all three of you worked together to put your belongings into safety.

Once you reached the house that would shelter you for the next ten days, you couldn’t help the sweat forming in your palms and the feeling of utter uncertainty at the prospect of breathing the same air as Wanda’s twenty-four-seven. 

Natasha’s words from earlier did nothing to placate the anxiety tugging at your heart.

“Thanks for having me,” you smiled something crooked at the redhead on the other side of the door.

“It’s nothing,” she smiled toothily and you couldn't help your heart skipping a beat at the shine you saw in those green eyes. “Hope you don’t mind that I cooked pasta?” Wanda scrunched her nose in that way it had you all mushy over the floor.

“As if you didn’t know me,” you rolled your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from your host.

“Where are my sunshines?” You walked further into the house looking for the twins, wanting to escape the uncomfortable silence that had settled between you both just a second ago.

While time ago you’d be more than happy to spend unlimited time with Wanda, now it was only anxiety what you felt as you wandered into the very-well known house as your inner fears slowly manifested themselves, making it hard for you to feel at ease in what you once considered your second home. Too afraid to face the reality you dreaded to recognize laying at the back of your mind.

As always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr​ ​ @wandabear​ ​ @red1culous​ ​ @inluvwithfictionalwomen​ ​ @aliherreraaa @kiancorpse​ ​ @whitewidowsbite​ ​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ ​ @daenerys713​ ​ @swiftie1-0-1 @godamnityess​ ​ @marvelwomen-simp​ ​ @forthelesbians​ ​ @when-wolves-howl​ ​ @marvelogic​ ​ @cowboyboots236 @iliketozoneout​ ​ @jayceelynnn​ (If you wanna be added to the taglist, just let me know! :)  

[redvelvetcarrotcake]

Fixed some holes in the pockets of my jeans. I like how they turned out!

(Don't mind the color inconsistencies, my phone camera was being weird lol)

[resi4skz]

CHAPTER 1

Pairing: Christopher Bahng x Aubrey Williams (OC)

Warnings: none for this chapter, smut eventually

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Thank you. Have a nice day!" I smile as I hand a bag filled with books to a customer. They smile and exit the store. I glance at the clock on the wall. Damn, I missed lunch again and it was almost time to go home. I pick up some books that needed to be put back on the shelves and head to the back of the store. My phone vibrates and I fish it out from the back of my jeans pocket.

T: when will you be home?

A: why?

T: my mom got you some teas that will help with getting you pregnant.

I wanted to run away this moment. Troy had been trying to get me pregnant for almost 2 years now. We had tried every treatment there is out in the world. It always ended up with negative pregnancy tests. And his mom even suggested surrogacy or he sleep with another woman. And I was always the one in the middle forced to do things I didn't want to do.

Once, she put some medicine in my food and 2 hours later the same night I ended up in the hospital with severe vomitting. The doctor told Troy to not do anything drastic like that or I will lose my life. But that didn't stop his mom. She complained how her friends were already grandmothers when she's not. She had hated me from the beginning and we never got along despite Troy knowing everything. He was a mama's boy. He managed to swipe me off my feet and made me fall in love with him.

I wrap up in my book store, lock the main door and put alarms on. The drive home was the only relaxing time I had which didn't last long since it was only a 20 minute drive. Parking in the driveway, I put my poker face and head inside. Troy was on his laptop typing away and only turned around when I walk inside. "Mom wants us to come over for dinner this Saturday. I told her we'll come."

"Okay," I say, feeling drained from the day. I head into our room to change so I could finally eat. I'm in the middle of changing clothes when I suddenly feel a pair of arms slide around my exposed waist. I gasp, jumping a little. "Troy, what are you doing?"

"Come on, baby. It's been a long time," Troy whispers as he unclisps my bra as his other hand slips under my yoga pants, slipping a finger inside me. "Let's make a baby."

I groan mentally. If only there was a way....

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

The 'session' ended as usual like last time. Him leaving me high and dry to mend to myself. Sex with Troy was a chore now. It always was. As I finish changing, my phone vibrates and I smile when I see the text from my best friend, Liana.

L: girlie, what are you doing this weekend?

A: dinner at mother in law on saturday.

L: ew, you're still married?

A: lol, yes. And on sunday, I have to work.

L: at this rate, you're gonna be old before you know it.

A: gee, thanks.

L: listen, there's a party next weekend that i really wanna go to

A: let me guess. You want to go because the bartender that you've been crushing on is going?

L: great mind think alike. Also! Chris will be there!

Chris? Now why does that name sound so familiar? I go to type back but my stomach growling stops me. I'll send her a text later. I head to the kitchen and fix myself a quick sandwich with potato chips and a can of pepsi. I felt content finally being able to eat. It was one of the things I always loved. I loved all types of food, especially homemade. It was one of the things I always loved. Cooking. It was therapeutic for me since I came from a family who taught each other many things. And I was very glad that my mom taught me how to cook various types of food growing up.

Finishing up in the kitchen, I head up to my study to work on some book covers. I immerse myself in the work and loose track of time until I'm finished with 2 projects. As I walk to the bedroom, I see Troy already sleeping. Lucky bastard sleeping with no care in the world. I lay down and settle myself for sleep. Only it comes much later and the next thing I know is my alarm clock going off on my phone.

As much as I wanted to sleep more, the bookstore had to be opened today as there were deliveries coming in and an investor that I wasn't told much about. I hadn't told Troy about it yet because I know what he will say about it. 'Just sell it to me.' He had said it to me many times and I had declined every time since I had put my time and sweat into the bookstore while he worked for a big corporation company called Bahng/Lee Corp. The only thing I knew about the company was that it was 2 cousins who owned it.

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

I got coffee on the way to open the bookstore. Flipping the lights on, my co workers start walking in. "Morning, Aubrey."

I smile at Sabrina and Penelope. "Morning." They go back in the break room while I start assembling books in the shelves. I loved the feeling of new and old books. It gave me a sense of bliss and calmness in both. A few customers come and go, purchasing books and other accessories. And just like that a few hours go by and it's lunch time. "Hey, I'm gonna quickly head out to grab lunch and I'll be back to help with the deliveries."

I quickly get a italian sub from next door and as soon as I get back, the delivery truck arrive. While Sabrina helps the driver unload the boxes, Penelope and I immediately start unboxing them, my lunch long forgotten. It tends to get hectic and a lot busy once I get new releases come in. I'm inside unboxing another box when Troy and his mom, Georgia walk in.

"This place is a mess," Georgia says as she swipes off imaginary dust from her shoulder.

"Hi, Georgia," I say, nervous all of a sudden.

"Aubrey, what's all this?" Troy asks glancing at the boxes around me. Honestly, I have told him many times and yet he still asks.

"New books and accessories," I reply.

"More books?" Georgia blinks at the bunch of books in my hands. "If only you spent as much time you did on giving me grandkids as you did on books, maybe you wouldn't have to work as much."

I open my mouth to reply when Troy speaks. "Mom's right. All you've been doing is working ever since your parents dumped this shop on you."

This book shop was given to me by my parents on my 23rd birthday since they know how much I love books. It also meant I was the only sole owner of it and this didn't sit well with Georgia. As for Troy, he didn't really care or paid much attention to it which I was kind of glad for. I sigh looking at them. Georgia with her gold jewlery and the usual french manicure that she gets every 2 weeks. And Troy in his usual business attire with his blackberry in hand, typing away.

The amount of degrading I have listened from both of them these past 2 years. I always want to give them a piece of my mind. But for some reason, I always keep my mouth shut. "Thank you for being so considerate. I will keep it in mind." I had gotten my period in the morning and I was starting to think I wasn't the problem.  How I knew that is because everytime Troy and I were intimate on the days I was ovulating, all the pregnancy tests turned out to be negatives, no matter how many times I took them.

"So, when do I get to hear the good news?" Is she being for real right now?

"Soon, mom. Soon." And he's not helping either.

The amount of things I wanted to say to both of them right this moment. But it wasn't the place or time. "Is she taking the teas I gave you?" Those teas I threw some away already because they were gnarly and tasted like her vegetable casserole. "Well, I've been waiting for 2 years. She should've been able to pop atleast one baby out. Did you guys get tested right? Is it her? It's her, isn't it?"

"Georgia-"

She points her finger at me, nostrils flaring. "I knew it! I knew you were trouble the moment he brought you to my house. Troy shouldn't have gotten with you in the first place!"

"Mom-"

"No! I'm not going to shut up just because I'm in her stupid bookshop!" Georgia was fuming, her face turning red. This had happened before last year when I showed her the negative pregnancy tests. And now it was happening again. A few customers and Sabrina was staring at us now. "I told you she was bad news! And now she's unable to give you a baby!"

I watch as Troy tries to calm her down. Penelope nudges me with her elbow. I turn to look at her. "What?"

"There's someone asking for you."

"Who?" I ask. I turn my head when she points towards the door. My breathing stops. A black haired man wearing beige cardigan with blue jeans walks towards to where we're all standing. Everyone, including Georgia and Troy watch as he stands in front of where Penelope and I are standing, behind the cash regsiter. I survey him from top to bottom. I notice he's also wearing small silver hoop earrings which I think he's probably the only man to pull it off. And did I mention he's gorgeous?

"I'm looking for Aubrey Williams." Oh thank god, I didn't change my name when I got married.

"I'm Aubrey. How can I help you?"

He blinks at me. "You're Aubrey?" His voice was smooth like caramel melting in your mouth, with a hint of an accent?

"Yes." I get confused when he lets out a small laugh. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Me?" He smiles as he hands me a business card. My eyes widen at the name written on it and look up at him, smiling at me.

"Chris?" Holy shit. It's him.

"Ah, so she does remember me." He smiles. Holy dimples.

"Babe, who's this?" Troy comes in view and I can't form any words. Georgia is watching all this unfold, arms crossed looking like a Karen. I almost want to laugh.

"Uh, this is Chris. An old high school friend." I reply. "And this,' I point to Troy. "This is my husband, Troy."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Chris stated, raising his hand which Troy shakes, much to my surprise. "Didn't know you were married."

"For 5 years," Troy announces with a frown.

"Oh my god, is that Christopher Bahng?"

"That's Chris Bahng! I've always seen him in magazines but he's more handsome in person!"

"He's so handsome!"

A few customers take out their phones and start taking pictures, while many start pointing at him. I watch as Troy's eyes widen as Georgia rolls her eyes and grabs his arms, dragging him out. I don't think I've seen Troy like that in front of anyone before. He was always the one confronting others whereas I hated it. "You sure do know how to pick 'em," Chris says, chuckling.

"Bri," Penelope nudges me in again, whispering in my ear. "He's one of the owners of Bahng/Lee Corp."

Then it clicks. He's the investor. "So you're here to invest in this bookshop? Why?"

"Well, I've been hearing many things about it so thought I'd check it out."

Sabrina is now standing with Penelope, staring at Chris with a stupid smiles on their faces. "Let me show you around." I drop a box in their hands as I walk around them, their eyes following Chris behind me. Why did I have to hire women with hormones?

"So right here we keep the fiction and fantasy books, our most favourite section that gets sold out pretty quickly," I stated, standing between the shelves and watch as he observes some books.

"How many days are you open?"

"7 days but weekends have different hours and even open on holidays," I nervously reply.

"Open on holidays?" He asks, surprised. "You don't take time off?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Books make me happy." I wanted to say otherwise.

"But not your husband?" He asks, finally looking at me.

"What? I didn't say that," I denied. "I meant I like being here, it gives me peace."

"The peace that your mother-in-law demanding a baby from you?" My eyes widen at his statement. He heard that? "Yeah, I heard some of it."

"Oh." I had nothing else to say because my brain only saw one thing. The beautiful man in front of me. Plus, he didn't need to know about my life.

"I'll do it."

I do a double take. "Pardon me?"

"I'll invest in your bookshop and expand it. Maybe open more branches in different locations," he replies.

Wait a damn minute. Am I hearing this right? "Wait, are you serious?"

He chuckles. "Yes. Is it that hard to believe?"

"Well, for one you didn't even see the rest of the shop."

He gives me a smile that made me weak in the knees. "I don't need to. I know you will do great as you are currently doing."

"Thank you."

He glances at his wrist watch. "I gotta go, Bri. I have an important I need to get to. I'll need to get in touch with you for all the paperwork."

"But I don't have your number." Ah. Why....."Ah, I'm sorry. How rude of me."

He laughs. "You're the same as ever. You have my card, all my contact information is on there."

"Oh, right."

He lets out a small laugh. "I'll wait for your text or call, whichever you prefer is fine with me." He winks at me, smiling. Oh god, those dimples again. And then he walks out the shop, disappearing around the corner. I glance at his card in my hand and smile.

A/N: this is a completed series i did on wattpad so decided to show its love on here. Enjoy and stay delulu friends

[dearly-somber]

Heartbeat | k.yh

-> pairing. kang younghyun x female reader

-> genre. established relationship, fluff

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 579

-> warnings. None!

-> a/n. This was based off a SoundCloud cover I found sometime in 2021 lol

-> collection. songfic

-> started. ???

-> fin. Jan. 16th, 2021 @ 00:29

-> edited. Fri., Jan. 20th, 2023 @ 07:15

You woke up earlier than usual, looking to the side and smiling at the still sleeping Younghyun, who scrunched his nose in his sleep.

You smiled, sitting up slightly and grabbing your phone to keep yourself busy until you decided to get out of bed. You turned back to the sleeping figure beside you when he grunted softly, turning around and throwing his arm around your waist, hiding his face in your elbow. You chuckled, moving to gently pat his head, a huge smile on your face.

"Aigoo, 귀엽다~" You crooned, your shoulders shaking as he whined and pressed himself further into your elbow, dragging one of his legs over yours. You put your phone on silent and took a quick picture: your hand in his hair and his arm around your waist, cutely hiding his face from the sun shining through the curtains.

"Why're you awake so early..?" He groaned, turning his head ever so slightly to open an eye at you. You chuckled, pinching his cheek as gently as you could.

"It's 9am, bub. It's not as early as you'd think—"

"We don't usually wake up at 9..." You chuckled, humming while rhythmically running your hands through his hair, unable to stop smiling because he kept making content noises.

"It's fine, you can keep sleeping. We'll go for a walk by the creek when you're done." He nodded, smiling softly as he pulled himself closer and hid his face in your side. You rolled your eyes but let him be anyway, unable to push him away.

About an hour to two hours later and the two of you were getting ready to leave, Younghyun wearing a pretty teal-blue sweatshirt and jeans, a pair of slippers keeping his feet warm.

You were wearing an oversized shirt, shorts and slippers. You fixed his mask as he pulled it up over his face, resting your hand on his cheeks before standing on your tippy-toes to kiss his forehead.

"You're just so cute, I cannot—"

"Shhhh, stop it!" He whined, laughing heartily as he hid his face by pulling you in for a hug.

You laughed, moving your fingers between his own and leaving your apartment with a skip in your step.

You guys walked for a while until you got to the creek near your building, sitting on the side and removing your masks since it was pretty isolated. Brian was sitting at the edge, looking at the water intensely, his side profile gorgeous.

You just had to take a picture, crawling over afterwards to wrap your arms around his shoulders and to kiss the beauty marks on his ear, the beauty mark on his neck, his cheek and jaw—

"Yah, stop it— you're gonna make my heart stop." You giggled, cutely scrunching your nose before pressing it into his neck and inhaling.

After spending another thirty or so minutes you got a cab home, and by the time the two of you had gotten settled it had started raining gently.

Younghyun grabbed his guitar and sit with you on the bed, singing 'Heartbeat' by Christopher in a soft voice, your eyes drifting closed because of the soothingness of not only his voice but the gentle patter of rain outside your window.

He finished, pulling you into his lap and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I love you~" He said, dragging out his voice cutely.

You smiled and pulled back to kiss him. “I love you too, my prince."

[crystalsnow95z]

Req: Yoongi adopts/gets a cat and Jimin is allergic to it?

I think there's a theory that Yoongi has a cat and I would love to see this written, because Jimin is actually allergic to cats lol

Sorry to all the requests I put on hold to do this one. I had an idea right away and keep using all my spare time on it before it's gone.

Sorry my mental health took a bit of a turn so it got a little dark. Tw: anxiety

Caretaker: Yoongi sickie(?): Jimin

Yoongi feels his phone vibrate on his desk, pulling him out of work mode. He checks who it is, answering immediately when he sees Jimin is on the other end.

"Jimin-ah I thought you were busy today." Yoongi greets him teasingly. Jimin had planned to stay in his studio all day until he could finish the song he started to work on.

"I am busy, but I need help. Hang on.. I'll show you." Jimin puts his phone on speaker, playing back the melody he was working on. Yoongi cringed when he heard the awkward mesh of the drums and the guitar that sounded like they were playing two different tempos.

"What the Hell was that?" Yoongi laughs.

"Hyung its not funny!" Jimin pouts, but he knew Yoongi was just being honest. "Could I come over to work on it with you?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, hyung. I love you."

"You're welcome, see you soon Jimin-ah."

"You aren't gonna say it back?"

"Ah Jimin not you too." Yoongi whines.

"Come on hyung. It's not that hard."

"I'll say it if you pick me up some coffee."

"I need to bribe you for love now? Are you serious?" Jimin tries to keep his voice steady, but ends up giggling anyway.

"Love you." Yoongi mumbles into the phone, hanging up.

Yoongi jumps when he hears the doorbell, saving what he was working on. Aiish,was he already in the neighborhood? I didn't expect him to get here That fast.

"Coming." Yoongi goes to the door to let Jimin in. "You did bring me coffee. I love you." The 'I love you' is quickly followed by the rapper taking a big drink of the iced coffee.

"You're cute Hyung." Jimin giggles, seeing Yoongi's eyes go wide whilst he drinks.

"Huh? Thanks.." Yoongi looks away from him, cheeks flushing pink."Let's try to salvage your train wreck."

"Don't call it that! It's not bad! I just overlapped the parts wrong, and I couldn't figure out how to fix it." Jimin sasses with a whiny tone.

Yoongi smiles at Jimin's sudden outburst, chuckling. "Sorry, sorry. Let's go fix your mistakes."

Jimin rolls his eyes but accepts this response, letting Yoongi lead him to the studio he made in his house. Yoongi adds a second computer chair to the desk. "Do you have the flash drive?"

Jimin goes to sit, but an itch in his nose makes him freeze in his tracks. "Hang on.. Heh'itch...heh..Hehitch..ahh.."he wipes his palm over his nose to try to clean up his face."I have it.."

"Here.." Yoongi hands him a tissue. "Wipe your nose."

"Thanks hyung." Jimin wipes his nose, then digs the flash drive out of his jeans pocket, plugging it into the tower. "What is this mess? There's so many..untitled 2 untitled 2.1 untitled 4.3 what do you mean 2.1.."He passes the keyboard to Jimin.

"I haven't came up for the names of the songs yet so they're just numbers.. I don't wanna hear it yours don't look any better!" Jimin huffs,sniffling loudly.

"I thought you got over that cold. Are you okay, Jiminie?" Yoongi asks, fretting over his little brother.

"I thought I did.. I was feeling fine earlier.. maybe I shouldn't have walked here. It was bit wi.." Jimin felt his eyes watering as the itch returns, covering his face. "Heh'hehixh!"

"I think i have some cold medicine. Let me go see. Stay here." Yoongi gets up, letting Jimin open the song he was working on.

I don't understand how I could get sick so fast..

Then Jimin's answer appeared in front of him. When Yoongi left the room, a black cat waltzed in right afterwards, jumping into his lap with a loud purr. "Ah..Seoltangie.. I thought you'd be at your grandparents house.. no, no don't do that. I didn't take any allergy pills.. please.."

Seoltangie rubs against Jimin's hand, demanding pets, headbutting his palm. Jimin tries gently nudging, but the furry friend refuses to budge, just sticking claws into Jimin's thigh to make it harder. "I'm sorry.." Jimin winces when he pulls on Seoltangie to try to get her off.

"Yoongi-yah!" Jimin calls desperately when he feels the sneezes come. "Heh'itchii...Hehtichi...! Hihtrchxxi!" He turns away from the cat, the sound of Jimin's sneezes scaring them away.

His throat felt tight, making his breath come out as short wheezy gasps. "I..I can't pet you..right now.."

"Sh*t..Sh*t I'm sorry Jimin. Come here Seoltangie." Yoongi rushes into the room, scooping up his feline, earning himself a scratch in protest. "I know you don't like being picked up but you can't be in here." Yoongi carries Seoltangie to another room in the house, closing the door behind him.

Jimin tries to get some of the cat hair that clung to his hands off, but another round of sneezes makes it impossible. "Heh'itchi..Ha..Hativkch! HETHIXH..." he rubs his hand across his dripping nose, instantly regretting it when it only makes matters worse. "Hehticu! Hegitidh..! He'iychiugh..." Jimin whines, unable to cover his face because of the black cat hair that was now sticking to his hands from the mucus that coated his hands.

Yoongi rushes back into the room, using a wet wash cloth to clean off his hands. "Take that shirt off, I'll lend you one of mine. I'm sorry, Jimin-ah. I completely forgot i took her home..."

"It's okay.." Jimin let's Yoongi pull off his shirt discarding it in the corner of the room while he makes sure he gets all the fur off his hands Jimin a bag. "Here..Valentino just sent me these so they shouldn't have any fur on them."

"Thanks h...heh'tichi..!" Jimin sniffles miserably. "Ugh.. my head hurts.."

"I'm sorry, Jiminie. I have cold medicine but no allergy pills. I'll have to go to the store.. will you be okay?" Yoongi helps Jimin get a new shirt on.

"Yeah, I'll be fine..I should really carry some with me.." Jimin grabs another tissue, trying to dry his eyes. "I'm not deathly..ah..ahiych!"

"I'll be back as soon as I can then. Make yourself at home." Yoongi leaves his sneezy dongsaeng to go to the kitchen, bringing him a cold compress from the freezer. "Here.. this should help with the swelling in the meantime." He gently places it over Jimin's eyes.

"Thanks Hyungie..." Jimin sniffles, leaning back in the chair.

"Don't fall." Yoongi spins him slowly making the back of the chair lean against the desk. "Just in case. You have problems with chairs."

"I'm not gonna fall." Jimin giggles, Yoongi getting the reaction he wanted.

If he can laugh, then he should be okay for a bit..

"Mao! Mao..!"

Jimin could hear Seoltangie from the other room. "I'm sorry baby, once I take some medicine, I'll pet you.." jimin felt guilty for not giving her attention and for scaring her, but his allergies got worse, making him go from being able to handle holding cats for a bit with just a runny nose and watery eyes to becoming a sneezy mess with a swollen face and red eyes that itched and watered no matter what he did to them.

Jimin shivered, removing the compress. As soon as he sat up the sneezes returned. "Hehith! Heyghi...Heh..ha..Hehtichxxi!"

I need to lay down.. my head is killing me..

Jimin goes into the living room, finding a lint roller on the table to defur the couch. "Heh..tishf..!" Jimin sniffles, removing enough fur to comfortably lay down without making his allergies worse.

I made it to the store. Do you want anything while I'm here?

Yoongi texts Jimin, still feeling guilty for forgetting such an important detail about his dongsaeng. If he remembered he could've secured his furry companion and warned Jimin to bring allergy pills.

Yoongi keeps his arms pulled close to his chest while he navigates the convenience store, trying to move as quickly as possible. He already felt himself being watched, a phone pointed in his direction. He opted to pretend he didn't notice them, knowing if he spoke to them it'll only draw more attention to himself.

Yoongi didn't get an answer from Jimin, so he just picked up some honey butter chips and some ramen.

"Suga oppa could I please have a photo with you?" A woman bows to him. Yoongi recognized her as the one who's been following him around the store.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry.." Yoongi turns her down politely.

"You can't spare a few seconds? I'm a really big fan of yours. I've been following you for almost three years now." She picks up her head, trying to use her pouty lips and long fake lashes to get her way.

"I need to get home to my brother. He isn't feeling well.. I'm really sorry.." Yoongi bows to her, going to the counter.

"What? Who's not feeling well? What's wrong? Do you need any help? I'm in school to be a nurse." She follows him to the counter, continuing to talk to him while the cashier rings him up.

"Hello, how are you, S- sir?" The cashier doesn't look at him when she speaks, her voice shaking with either nerves or excitement. She clearly knew who he was, trying to ignore the fact and be professional.

"I'm doing well, thank you. How are you?" Yoongi speaks to the cashier with a smile, ignoring the woman's questions.

He jumps when he sees her arm moving in his peripheral vision, moving her arm to hold her phone above his head to snap a photo leaning on his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist, hitting the button.

Yoongi shakily removes her arm from his waist, taking a few steps away from her. His heart accelerated, his anxiety spiking from her blatant disregard for his personal space. "D..Don't.." He pushes his voice out, but he hardly heard it himself.

"Miss you can't take photos without someone's permission. I'll have to ask you to leave." The cashier informs her coming to Yoongi's rescue.

"No, I got his permission. He said he just didn't have time, so I took it without having to waste any. Oppa, it came out a little blurry. Could we please take another?" She goes for his arm, but he quickly steps back, folding his arms over his chest.

Yoongi shakes his head, no words coming out this time. He couldn't remember the last time he felt his throat tighten, anxiety freezing his vocal cords. She goes to step forward, but the cashier intervenes.

"I said you have to go. Now. Do I need to get a manager?" The cashier puts herself in between Yoongi and the woman. "Get out." She keeps her tone firm, eyes sharp and cold.

"Fine. Suga isn't even that big of a deal. He's not even attractive like Jin oppa or Jimin-sii and you aren't even a good dancer! You're also fat!"She storms out of the store.

Yoongi feels the tension ease from his shoulders when he hears the bell from the door. He takes a few breaths before finding his voice again, pushing the anxiety down.. "Th-thank you. I'm sorry.." Yoongi bows despite his legs shaking.

"You don't need to thank me. I only did my job. Do you need a minute to calm down? I'm so sorry you had to put up with that.."

Yoongi leans against the counter, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself, closing his eyes.

"Do you want to sit down?" The cashier asks voice thick with concern.

"No..no I'm okay.. I really do have to get home.. I'm sorry.. what was the total...?" Yoongi pulls himself together. He hated making others worry about him. She finishes his purchase quickly, handing him his receipt.

Yoongi digs into his pocket, pulling out a guitar pick. "Here. A small thank you.."

Yoongi returns home, finding Jimin mostly asleep on the couch, arm draped across his face.

"Jiminie I'm back.." Yoongi gently runs his palm against Jimin's chest, the vocalist stretching out with a yawn that breaks into a cough.

Jimin slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes."Welcome home Yoo..Heh'tichi..!" He quickly covers his fac before the next one comes. "Hehticu..!"

"I got you some medicine and a decongestant spray. It should help with the sneezing." Yoongi digs in the plastic bag, pulling the contents out and setting them on the table.

"Hyung your hands are shaking.." Jimin reaches for Yoongi's hand, eyes widening when he sees Yoongi flinch away from his touch. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just got a little spooked at the store, that's all. I'll be okay now that I'm home. Don't worry. Let's get you taken care of so we can work on that song." Yoongi opens the box, popping one of the pills out of the blister pack. He wanted to get his mind off of that woman, her words weighing heavy in his chest.

She only said those things because she was angry..

Yoongi repeats in his mind for the fifth time since he left the store.

Jimin didn't push him to talk about it, accepting the pill, downing it with some water. He knew better than to push him to talk, he'd tell him when he was ready. "Thanks for going to the store hyung.." He gives him a warm smile, wiping his nose with the side of his hand.

Jimin picks up the nasal spray, wanting to ease his swollen sinuses as soon as possible. As soon as the nozzle touches his nostril it triggers a flurry of sneezes. "hetichi! Hehitusu! Hiheiychi!. Hah...He..hetich!" He drops the spray to cover his nose, the snot coating his hands. "Ugh..that hurt..."

"You okay Jimin?"

"Yeah..my head just hurts so much.. I gotta go wash my hands though.." Jimin goes to stand, but a wave of dizziness engulfs him, tunneling his vision.

Yoongi grabs his arm to steady him. "Woah, I got you.." he pulls Jimin back to the couch. "Wait until the medicine kicks in, I'll wash you up."

He goes to the room where he left the wash cloth, retrieving it to wash Jimin up going to the bathroom to rewet it. Yoongi looks at his reflection, quickly looking away when he thinks he sees fat in his cheeks.

I did put on that much weight?

Yoongi shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away. "No, two pounds isn't much weight..it's fine. It's fine.." he quickly returns to Jimin, wiping the cloth across Jimin's face. "There, that's better, now give me your hands."

Jimin presents his hands to Yoongi, allowing the rapper to clean him up. "Sorry Hyungie, I'm gross.."

"It's fine. It's my fault for not warning you about my cat being here."

Yoongi holds his hand up, checking to see if he is still shaking. If he wasn't watching closely, the small tremors at his fingertips wouldn't be noticeable. "Let hyung help." He takes it from Jimin, putting one hand on the back of Jimin's head, the other he uses to gently push the nozzle into Jimin's nose, quickly spraying.

Jimin's nose twitches when Yoongi removed it, quickly covering his face. "Heiycu..! He..hehitch! Heh..heh...augh..." The last sneeze builds up, but never actually comes. He rubs underneath his nose. "That hurt.."

"You okay, Jiminie?" Yoongi rubs the nape of Jimin's neck. "Do you want to try the other nostril?"

"In a minute..i..I think I gotta sneeze again.." Jimin says in a nasally whine, feeling the itch returning. He continued to try to coax the sneeze out, eyes watering from the pressure. "Ha..Heh..itchii!"

Yoongi waits to see if any more were going to follow, trying to soothe Jimin with a gentle words, continuing to massage his neck. "It'll pass when the medicine kicks in."

Jimin nods, another round of sneezes building. "Heh'itchiiu...Heh'tefh! Ha..Haiugh!" He sniffles, licking his lips as his nose drips down his face.

Yoongi gets him a tissue. "You okay?"

"Yeah..sorry.. i don't feel like I have to sneeze anymore.." Jimin turns his head to try to clear his nose. "Okay..I'm ready."

Yoongi picks up the spray again, sticking it into Jimin's other nostril. This time, when he sprays, it doesn't trigger any more sneezes. "There. All done."

"Thanks Hyung.. I'm starting to feel better now.. the pressure is easing up.. can we sit out here for a bit before we work? My head still hurts.." Jimin asks, leaning against Yoongi's shoulder. The older was acting like he was fine, but he still didn't know what happened at the store.

"Of course." Yoongi leans his head on Jimin's, putting his hand close to Jimins, twitching his fingers twitching, brushing against the youngers knuckles.

"You want to hold hands, Yoongi-yah?" Jimin smiles, wrapping his hand around Yoongi's. "You're cute. You don't have to be shy." He squeezes his hand.

"This girl grabbed me while I was at the store..it freaked me out.." Yoongi says softly. "I thought I was okay with touches now, but I guess I was wrong. She wanted to take a picture but I told her no, but she took it anyway, leaning really close to me.. It was hard to breathe.."

"It's completely normal to get scared when a stranger grabs onto you. I do when I feel strangers grabbing at me at the airport.. I'm sorry you had to go through that for me.." Jimin runs his thumb across Yoongi's knuckles, nuzzling into his neck. "Thank you for taking care of me."

[cutedisneygirl]

Love Online Chapter 10 Part 2

Warnings: some language, some rough scenes (no smut) you learn about Merida's past. Panic attack.

The next morning Merida is awoken by a text. She groans and rolls over and picks it up off the beside table. She sees it's a text from Tiffany.

Tiffany-Oh my God girl! Look what I just saw on the internet!

Merida-Oh my God! What! He hasn't texted me yet! I'm still in bed!

Tiffany-Lol You better hurry girl! Love ya!

Merida-Love you too. Thanks!

Merida jumps out of bed and is just about to get in the shower when her phone goes off.

Chris-I'm in NC. I will see you soon! 😁

Merida hurriedly messages back

Merida-Okay. See you soon. ☺️

She gets a quick shower, dries her hair and after she is dressed she applies a little make up. She decides to wear her flowered sundress.

She walks into the kitchen and fills Dixie's bowl and then fixes her coffee. She has just poured her cup when there is a knock at her door.

"Oh my God! That's him." Merida says to herself. "Why am I nervous?"

She takes a deep breath and leaves her coffee cup on the island and walks towards the door and opens it. There stands Chris with his Boston hat on and short sleeve grey shirt and Jeans. Merida runs to him and hugs him.

"Hey babe!" Chris kisses her head.

Merida stays for several minutes with her arms wrapped around Chris.

"Babe, are you going to let me in?"

"Oh, sorry." Merida pulls back and steps back.

"Come in."

Chris smiles. "Not that I don't love having you in my arms but I much rather get out of the door way.

"Yes, sorry. I just..."

"I know." He smiles. "Your just glad I'm here."

"Yes. I actually just got up about 30 minutes ago."

"What? Seriously?"

"Yes. If it hadn't been for Tiffany texting me I would have still been in bed when you texted me."

Chris smiles, "Well I'm glad she texted you then. I would hate to have to break down your door to get you out of bed." He laughs.

"You wouldn't!"

Chris winks. "I'll guess you'll never know." He says smiling.

Merida walks over to the island and picks up her coffee and takes a sip.

"Your beautiful by the way. I love your dress."

"Thanks. Can you get anything to drink? Water, tea, coffee?"

"Coffee sounds great."

Merida heads over to the coffee pot and pour Chris a cup and takes back to the Island.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

"Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"

"I'm okay right now, but if your hungry. I know you just got up."

"I'm not really hungry."

Dixie then ran into the room and right up Chris. She barks and rubs up against Chris's legs.

"Well hello Dixie."

Chris says bending down and petting her.

"How are ya girl?"

She barks again.

"I probably need to let her out. Dixie want to go outside?"

Dixie looks at Merida and barks.

"Okay let's go."

Dixie followers her to the sliding door. Merida slides the door open and Dixie runs out. Chris comes up behind Merida and wraps his arms around her.

"The fence looks good."

"Thanks. I did the less expensive one. Hope it lasts."

"Hopefully it will." They stand at the door and watch Dixie run around the back yard for several minutes.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Chris asks Merida.

"I'm sure. How long are staying?"

"Probably just till Monday. I think I scheduled my flight for 8 am Monday morning. Oh, I need to check into my hotel. I came straight here from the airport."

"Your welcome to stay here."

"Babe, I don't want to impose. I don't..."

"You wouldn't be. I have a spare bedroom. You're welcome to stay."

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying in a hotel."

Merida turns and faces Chris and wraps her arms around him. "Chris I would love to have you stay. It's not a problem really."

"Alright. I'll call and cancel my reservation. I'll be right back."

Christ takes his phone from his back pocket and steps away and calls. A few minutes later he comes back. Merida is at the Island drinking some more of her Coffee.

"Okay all canceled. I guess I'll go grab my bag. I'll be right back."

Chris kisses Merida on the head then leaves but comes back a few minutes later with his suit case. Merida shows him the room he can put his stuff in.

"So we have an hour before your appointment?"

"Yeah."

"What should we do?"

"We can sit on the couch and talk."

"Talk?" Chris asks raising his eye brow.

Merida laughs. Just then Dixie barks and paws the door.

Merida walks over to the glass door and slides the door and lets Dixie in. Merida pours some food in her bowl then heads to the couch and sits down. Chris walks over and sits beside her. He puts his arms around her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes why do you ask?" She asks looking at Chris.

"I'm just making sure. Your quiet."

"I'm just nervous about my doctor appointment."

"It will be fine babe. I will be right there with you."

"I'm glad you will be with me." Merida smiles at Chris.

Chris leans forward and kisses her softly on the lips. "God I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too," Merida says laying her head on his chest. Chris runs his fingers through her hair. He looks down at her. He leans forward and kisses her lips then starts kissing down her neck.

Merida slightly pulls away from Chris.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Why did you pull away from me?"

 "I..." before Merida can finish what she was going to say a sharp pain hits her. She squints her eyes shut and bites her lower lip.

"Babe, are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay."

"Still having cramps?"

Merida nods. "Come here." Chris says holding out his arm.

Merida slides closer and lays her head on his chest. Chris rubs her back and runs his fingers through her hair. Merida places her hand on his leg. Chris places his other hand on top of hers and intertwines their fingers and rubs his thumb along her hand. Merida then shifts their hands so they are holding hands palms together. Then she squeezes his hand hard when another sharp hits her. He feels her wince.

"Mer, babe, you okay?"

Merida nods. "Is there anything I can do?"

Merida shakes her head and sqeezes his hand again. "mmmm"

"Babe, I'm worried about you. You've been having cramps now for almost two weeks. Do they usually last this long?"

"Sometimes yes. I thought I would have started by now, but I haven't."

"Babe, I'm sorry. Wish I could take the pain away."

"It's.... Mmm." She starts to say and sqeezes his hand once more.

"Can I get you a heating pad? I remember you telling me it helped."

"You can grab a wash cloth and warm up a little."

"Okay I can do that. Where do I find one?"

"In the bathroom in the cabinet."

"Okay. I'll be right back."

Chris kisses her head and gets up and heads to the bathroom. He grabs a wash cloth then heads into the kitchen. He wets it a little and puts it in the microwave for a few minutes then heads back to the living room. Merida sits up a little and Chris sits back on the couch.

"Lay your head in my lap." Chris says.

Merida shifts and lays her head in Chris's lap. He gets ready to lift her dress but she stops him.

"What?"

"Just put it on top of my dress."

"But it will get wet."

"It's okay."

"Babe, it's okay. You don't have to be nervous. I won't look promise if that's what you worried about."

"Chris..."

"I promise. It will be okay."

Chris lifts up her dress and places the wash cloth on her stomach.

"Ouch!"

"You okay? Did I get it too hot?"

"No it's fine. It feels good. It just startled me that's all."

Chris runs his fingers through her hair. He then leans down and kisses her.

"Thanks Chris."

"Your welcome babe. Wish I could do more. Wish I could take away your pain."

"I'm just glad you're here."

"Me too."

Chris then looks at the clock on her TV stand.

"Babe, its 12:30. I hate to make you move but..."

"Oh gosh!"

Merida quickly sits up. "We better go."

Merida stands up and Chris stands up as well. She grabs her purse and she follows him out. She locks her door. She starts to head to her car but Chris grabs her hand.

"I can drive. Just tell me where to go."

"Okay." Merida follows him to the blue Audi.

He opens the door for her then climbs into the driver side. He pulls out of the drive way. He looks over at Merida.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks taking her hand.

"A little."

He runs his thumb along her hand. Merida tells Chris which way to go. It takes them 10 minutes to get there. They head inside the office. Merida checks in and they find a seat in the waiting area. Merida takes several deep breaths. Chris takes her hand. "It will be okay babe. I'll be right here with you."

Merida smiles and gently squeezes his hand.

"Merida Owens?"

Merida takes a deep breath then stands up. Chris follows her until the nurse stops him.

"Uh...I'm afraid he will have to wait here."

"Please let him come. He's my boyfriend."

The nurse looks at him and smiles.

"Okay fine." Merida takes his hand, and they follow the nurse. She takes her height and weight then they follow her into the waiting room.

"How are you feeling? Anything changed since your last visit?"

"No. I have been having some bad cramps off and on the last two weeks."

"Have you started yet?"

"No, not yet. But I know I'm due any day."

"Okay. I will let Ms. Phillips know. Just change into the gown and she will be in a minute."

"Okay thanks."

The nurse left the room. Merida looks down at the blue gown then up at Chris and bites her lower lip. Chris smiles and laughs. "I will turn away, won't look promise."

Chris turns around so his back is away from her. Merida quickly changes into the gown.

"Okay."

Chris turns around and looks at her. He smiles. "Do you have any idea how cute you look right now?"

Merida smiles. She hops up on the examination chair. A few minutes later the doctor comes in.

"Hey Merida. How are you feeling today?"

"I'm okay."

"So you've been having some cramps?"

"Yes."

"Are they the same or worse than the ones you've had before?"

"A little worse."

The doctor then looks at Chris. "You must be Chris."

He smiles. "Yes."

"Nice to meet you. She has talked about you lot."

Chris smiles again. "Oh she has?" He asks looking down at her.

Merida bits her lower lip.

"Alright Merida, I need you to lay back and slid close to the end."

Merida does as she is told. "Okay you will feel a little pressure and little discomfort."

Merida squints her eyes shut as she feels the doctor put pressure on her uterus. Chris takes her hand and she squeezes it. She feels her moving her fingers around. Merida keeps her eyes shut and winces. Chris rubs his thumb along her hand.

"Okay I'm done." The doctor says sliding her chair back.

Merida sits up. "Okay after looking at your tests results and checking you out. You have what is called Endometriosis."

"What is that?"

"It is where you have pain around your uterus. Is the best way to explain it. I can give you some info on it. This is why you have had such bad cramps."

"Is it curable?"

"Yes. I can prescribe you birth control pills. They will help with the pain. Are you?" She looks up at Chris then back at Merida. "Are you sexually active?"

Merida shakes her head. "I know you weren't last time I saw you, but had to ask. Sex will be painful for you."

"Will it still be unlikely that I won't be able to conceive?"

"There is that possibility yes. There is still a chance you will be able to but it will hard for you. But let's not worry about that right now. I will prescribe you the pills and see you back in a month and we will see how you are okay?"

Merida nods her head.

"Any other questions?"

Merida bites her lower lip glances at Chris then back and the doctor and shakes her head.

"You sure?"

Merida continues to bite her lower lip. The doctor knows this is hard from Merida. She has been her doctor for a while and has gotten to know her pretty well. She looks up at Chris.

"Mr. Evans can you give us a minute?"

"Sure."

Merida grabs his hand. "No, don't leave me." She frowns.

"I'll be right back babe. I'm not leaving you promise. I will just wait outside." He kisses her head then leaves the room.

The doctor looks at Merida.

"Merida, I need to know. Does Chris know?"

Merida shakes her head.

"So you and him have never been intimate?"

"No. We haven't really been together that long. This is the first time I've seen him since July."

"Okay."

"He..."

"Yes."

"I think he wanted too earlier. We were sitting on the couch earlier and he started kissing me and kissed my neck but..."

"You got uncomfortable and pushed him away?"

"Yes I stopped him. I'm scared. I know you said it would be painful."

"Yes but you need to be honest with him and tell him."

"I know. I plan to but I'm scared."

"Merida, I know this hard for you. I've known you for several years now. I know how happy he makes you and you care for him, so you owe it to yourself but also him to be honest with him tell him."

"I know." Merida bites her lower lip and starts to cry.

"Hey, it will be okay. You will make it through this, have a little faith. Don't give up okay?"

Merida nods. "Are you ready for Chris to come back?"

Merida nods her head.

The doctor stands up and opens the door and walks to the waiting room.

"Mr. Evans, you may come back now."

Chris follows her back to the room. When he walks in he sees that Merida has been crying. He rushes to her. "Babe, what's wrong?"

She hugs him and lays her head on his chest.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

Merida doesn't say anything she just continues to hug Chris. He rubs her back.

"I will leave you two. Merida good luck. Just check out before you leave and I will see you in a month. If you need anything let me know. I am leaving you some information on Endometriosis."

The doctor leaves and Chris and Merida are alone.

"Babe talk to me. What's wrong?"

Merida remains quiet and bites her lower lip. Chris looks down at her and sees her biting her lip.

"Mer, why are you nervous? What's wrong? Babe talk to me."

"I just want to go home."

"Okay. Come on." Chris helps her down. "Let me get dressed."

Chris turns so his back is facing her and Merida puts her clothes back on. She then picks up her stuff.

"Okay."

"You have everything?"

"I think so."

Chris takes her hand and they walk out to the check out desk. She hands her the paper.

"Okay looks like our next available appointment is not till September 13. That is a Friday."

Merida looks up at Chris. "I think that will work." Merida says.

"Okay. If you need to change it just call."

"Thanks."

The lady hands her the appointment card and the info from the nurse and the prescription for birth control pills.

"Do I owe anything?"

"Looks like your all set. If you owe anything we will mail you the bill."

"Thanks."

Merida grabs her stuff and leaves the doctor's office with Chris holding her hand. He helps her in the car and then climbs in and pulls out. As he pulls out and onto the main road he looks over at Merida who has not said a word since they left. She is looking out the window. Chris places a hand on her leg. "Babe, you've been quiet since we left. What's wrong?"

Merida remains quiet. Chris looks at her and sees a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Babe, what is it? Talk to me." He says rubbing his hand on her leg.

Merida places her hand on top of his and intertwines their fingers but remains quiet. Chris pulls into her drive way and Merida still has not said a word. She gets ready to get out but Chris pulls her back.

"Merida, talk to me. Please. What's wrong?"

Merida glances at Chris and bites her lower lip.

"Babe, what is it? Come on talk to me, please don't shut me out."

"Chris I..."

Chris reaches up and caresses her cheek.            "What is it babe?"

"Can we go inside?"

"Babe, talk to me. Your scaring me. I'm worried about you."

"Chris please I just want to go inside."

"Will you talk to me inside?"

Merida nods her head. Chris walks around and opens her door and takes her hand and unlocks her door and they head inside. Dixie greets them at the door and starts barking. Merida ignores her and heads to the couch. She sits on the couch and curls up in her blanket. Dixie jumps up on the couch and places her head in Merida's lap. Chris comes and sits beside her and wraps his arm around her. Merida lays her head on his chest. She begins to cry again.

"Babe, why are you crying? What's wrong?"

Merida bites her lower lip again and remains quiet.

"Mer, please talk to me. You said you would."

"Chris I..."

"Yes."

"I have...there is..."

"Babe what is it? You can tell me."

"There is something I need to tell you."

"Okay. I'm listening."

Merida bites her lower lip. Chris takes her hand. "Babe, you don't need to be nervous. It's okay. You can tell me anything."

Merida smiles and looks up into Chris's eyes. He sees she is crying. "Oh Mer. What is it?"

Merida takes a deep breath. "I've never...never..."

"You've never what?"

"I'm still a..." She bites her lower lip hard.

"Babe what is it? What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm still a virgin. I've never..." she starts crying.

"Oh babe, hey it's okay. You don't have to worry about that. I would never force you into that."

"I know...It's just..I..." Merida takes a deep breath.

"Yes?"

"I was almost..."

She pauses. "You were almost what?" Chris asks with a concerned face.

"I was almost raped,"

"What!"

"That's actually probably not the right word, but...someone forced themselves on me. Had me pinned up against the wall. If my dad hadn't walked in I don't know want to think about what would have happened."

"Oh God! Merida! Babe." Chris says hugging her to him.

"When did this happen?"

"Five years ago. It was before I moved out. I lived at home. My dad was at work. The guy I had been seeing was at the house. We had been watching movies and I got up to go to the bathroom. When I came back he stood up and pushed me against the wall. I screamed for him to let me go...but he..." Merida stopped and cried.

"Hey it's okay. You don't have to finish."

"No I need to tell you. You need to know. I screamed for him to let me go but he wouldn't. He kissed me, kissed down my neck and pushed his body up to mine. He rubbed against me. I kept trying to push him off of me but I didn't have the strength. He was a lot bigger than me and very strong. He then..." She takes another deep breath. "He then reaches down and un does his belt and un does his pants and pulls them down and is standing in front of me in only his...his boxers. He reaches towards me and...un buttons my jeans. I scream for him to stop but he places his hand on top of my mouth and tells me to shut up. He starts to pull my jeans down when...the door opens and my dad walks in and sees. He..."

"Babe, that's enough. I can't..." Chris clenches his hands into a fist.

Merida looks up at Chris. She looks into his eyes and sees he's trying to breathe.

"Chris?"

He doesn't answer her. Merida shifts and places her hands on either side of his face. "Chris, hey, look at me."

Chris moves his eyes a little and looks at her but still doesn't move or hardly breathe. Merida then realizes what is happening. He is having a panic attack. She remembered reading that he has them at times. She then feels bad. She knows she is the one who caused it. She doesn't know what to do. How do I help him? I've never dealt with this before. She thinks to herself. "Chris, look at me, please. I'm sorry." She pleads.

Chris closes his eyes and tries to breathe but struggles.

"God! What have I done?" Merida cries. She then picks up her phone and calls Tiffany.

"Hey girl what's..."

"Tiff help!" she exclaims.

"Mer, what's wrong?"

"It's Chris. He's having a panic attack and I don't know what to do! It's my fault! I..." she says quickly.

"Okay, first of all you've got to calm down. Being upset isn't going to help. You have to talk calmly to him and let him know you are there. Is he breathing heavily?"

"He's having a hard time breathing at all."

"Okay. You've got to get him calm and get him to breathe. Tell him to take small deep breaths."

Merida moves close to Chris and places her hand on his chest. "Chris, I'm here. Breathe. Take small deep breaths."

Chris breathes in and looks like hes's about to pass out. "Chris, breathe out. It's okay. I'm here." Merida says gently rubbing his chest. Chris tries to breathe again but struggles.

"Tiff! It's not working!"

"Mer, you've got to stay calm. You getting up set is not helping him. He can still hear everything. You've got to get him calm. Whatever happened that trigged it, is still on his mind. You've got to get him to look at you and get him calm."

"But how? I've tried. He won't." She cries.

"Merida, listen to me. Stay calm. Put your hands on his or on his face. Look into his eyes. Make him see you. Tell him to breathe, that's it's okay and you are there. Reassure him that it's okay. You can do it."

"Okay," Merida says taking a deep breath. "I'm going to put you on speaker phone and put the phone down."

"Okay. Do what you got to do."

Merida hit the speaker button and puts the phone on the coffee table and then shifts and faces Chris. She takes his hand in hers and reaches up and caresses his cheek. "Chris, I'm here. It's okay. Take a deep breath. You're okay."

Chris takes a deep breath looks at Merida then looks away. Merida is scared. She can see in his eyes he's angry. She continues to caresses his cheek and rubs his hand. "Chris, look at me. I'm here, it's okay. Please. You're okay. Take a breath."

Chris closes his eyes and takes a breath then looks at Merida. Merida puts her other hand on his other cheek. "You're okay. Breathe."

Chris takes another deep breath and is finally breathing normally. He looks at Merida. He remains quiet.

"Merida, is everything okay?" Tiffany asks.

Chris looks down at the phone on the coffee table then back at Merida.

"I think so. He hasn't said anything yet."

"Okay. I'll let you go. If you need anything you can call back."

"Thanks."

Tiffany ends the call.

"Chris?"

Chris looks down at Dixie who is curled up at the end of the couch asleep.

"Chris, say something please."

"I need air."

Chris stands up and walks towards the sliding glass door. He slides it open and walks outside.

Merida starts crying. "God please, don't let him leave me. This is all my fault. If I had only stopped when he said I didn't have to finish." Merida continues to cry. She glances up and sees Chris sitting in the chair outside with head in his hands. She wants to go to him but is afraid to. "Maybe he needs to alone."

Just then her phone goes off.

Tiffany­-Everything okay?

Merida-I don't know. He hasn't said anything except I need air and then went outside to the back yard. He is sitting down with head in his hands. Do I go to him? Or let him be?

Tiffany-Give him time. He will come talk to you when he's ready.

Merida-Okay. This is all my fault. If I had only stopped when he told me too.

Tiffany-Don't blame yourself. It's okay. You didn't know this would happen. It will be okay.

Merida-What if he leaves me? I can't...

Tiffany-Mer, stop! He won't leave you. That's not the kind of guy Chris is. He will come talk to you. I know he will. Give him time. If you told him what I think you did, he is processing it and needs time. It will be okay. I promise. I love ya. I'll be here if you need me.

I know this was a little long and there wasn't many pics of anything, but the next one will have a few more pics. I will try get the next chapter up tomorrow if I can, if not Thursday.

Tag List: @cevansbaby-dove @lizette50 @nicoline1998enilocin @katherineswritingsblog @cutelatinagirl @frogeezz-blog-blog

[purplesurveys]

1846

1 - What have you been up to so far today? Is that a typical thing for you to do on this particular day of the week?  It was definitely a busier Saturday than usual; I never spend the weekend squeezing in like 10 errands in a day unless I have a work event to begin with.

2 - Did you get a decent night’s sleep last night? How many hours sleep do you consider a decent amount?  It was okay! I fell asleep a little earlier than I thought I would, so it was nice to get a few extra hours in. The only thing I didn't like was that I woke up disoriented; I thought it was Monday and that I was running late for work, so I pretty much woke up with my heartbeat spiking.

3 - What is one silly thing that really gets on your nerves?  When people try to make small talk at the start of work calls. That was fine during the pandemic, but at this point, I swear I won't take it against you if you don't ask me how my weekend was or where I traleved during the Christmas break.

4 - Who was the last person you saw who wasn’t family? What did you guys end up doing together?  I saw my workmates and other agencies when we had to go to our client's office for a face-to-face meeting. We essentially went through like 70+ slides to brief the client on the final flow of our large-scale event this Sunday.

5 - Do you prefer hot or cold drinks overall?  Cold. I hate feeling like my tongue's getting burned.

6 - Do you own a decent set of waterproofs? If so, what do you use them for the most? If not, do you think that would be something you’d find useful?  Waterproof...what? Clothes? Phone case? Shoes? Hahaha. Anyway I don't think I own anything that's waterproof.

7 - Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?  I just need to finish this doughnut I'm eating lol, maybe take another survey after this...then I'll need to turn in early because I have an early start tomorrow.

8 - How often do you get your hair cut? When hairdressers were closed due to COVID, did you try cutting it yourself at home?  Probably like once a year. I never cut my hair during the Peak Pandemic Era – it helped that I had it trimmed literally a week before it all began, not knowing it was going to start.

9 - What did you wear the last time you left the house? Is that different to what you’re wearing at the moment? I went out today and haven't changed out of my outfit yet so I'll just enumerate what I have on – a purple cropped top + jeans.

10 - Would you rather have a relaxing beach holiday or a more active holiday in the mountains?  I'd love the beach as I can't remember the last time I had a beach trip + the mountains sound super isolating. It also reminds me of hiking, and there is no activity I hate more.

11 - Do you know how to tie a tie?  No. I kept the knot on my school necktie for like 14 years so that I could just always wear it like a necklace, lol.

12 - How old were you when you first had a sleepover at someone’s house? Did you miss home?  I think I was like 15 or 16 when I had my first sleepover. No, I was just mostly excited to finally be in a sleepover lol as I was never allowed prior. Woes of being a firstborn Asian daugher – you're 100% Test Subject A.

13 - How often do you spend time with your extended family? I would say once a month. We live very near each other.

14 - When you get up in the morning, do you have a set routine?  Yup. It's nothing special but it is my routine that I like to follow; any missing step and I'll get super bothered hahaha. Anyway, I'm an early waker, so I usually allot an hour to properly wake up and stay in bed catching up on social media/news.

Around 30 minutes before work, that's when I make my bed, take a quick shower and brush my teeth, fix myself a cup of iced coffee, then spend the remaining minutes clearing up emails that came the night before. They're simple things but it helps me SO MUCH to start work in a good/relaxed mood.

15 - Do you remember the last time you cried? Were they sad or happy tears?  Happy tears! I cried a little bit this afternoon watching a video of this kid reacting to Cody's win from last Sunday. I didn't cry watching him cry, but then he said "Everybody helped, everyone helped him" which was what broke me. That was such a wholesome thing to hear!

16 - What do you have planned once you finish this survey?  I really want to take one more of these but we'll see.

17 - What was the last thing you cooked? Did you cook from scratch or just heat something up? I don't cook. I buy most of my food.

18 - Are you a fan of hot chocolate? Do you like it plain or do you prefer to add things like whipped cream or marshmallows?  I'm picky. It needs to be like artisan hot chocolate and I'm usually willing to pay more for premium options as most hot chocolates here are really just Milo :(

19 - What caused your last injury?  Cooper nicked a bit of my fingernail when he got a little too excited play-wrestling with me for his toy.

20 - How many tattoos and piercings do you have? Do any of them have an interesting story behind them?  Zero tattoos. I got my earlobe piercings when I was a few months old so there isn't really a deeper story behind them haha.

21 - What kind of flowers do you like the best? When was the last time someone bought those for you?  I've always liked peonies. I can't remember the last time I got flowers.

22 - What’s the smallest thing you’ve ended a relationship over?  I've only experienced a failed relationship once.

23 - Would you rather order a starter (appetiser) or a dessert? Or would you be able to manage a full three courses? Appetizers. I don't like sweet things too much, so it's rare that I ask to stay long enough for dessert.

24 - How do you get most of your news, if you pay attention to it at all?  These days, Reddit.

25 - Have you or a member of your family been diagnosed with COVID yet?  My mom and sister had it simultaneously but fortunately they were asymptomatic as it could've possibly gotten. I got the worst experience of the bunch.

26 - Are you a vegetarian? If so, what persuaded you to stop eating meat? If not, is it something you’d ever consider?  No. I would consider it, yes, but I honestly don't have faith in myself to commit to it.

27 - Do you prefer rice or pasta? RICE. A day legitimately feels incomplete without rice...

28 - Is anything you’re wearing a gift? Who bought it for you?  Nah.

29 - What’s the dominant colour in the room you’re in at the moment?  White.

30 - Did you do laundry yet today? If not, do you need to do any before you go to bed?  Nope and nope.

[femmmie]

THE ISLAND

Chapter 4: A blunt goodbye

Anthony knows what he has to do, but he can't go without saying goodbye to his friend Brandon.

(Author's note: it's still somewhat of a mystery what Anthony is going to do, it probably has something to do with the readings on the genetically engineered algae from chapter 2. But either way, he's going to have to leave. In this timeline he and Ian still have not met! So now he goes to Brandon Rogers to have a smoke and work up the courage to go to work for the last time tomorrow... btw I took some creative freedom in describing Brandon, as I know him mostly as Bryce x3 some of her traits definitely influenced my writing LOL)

Chapter word count: 1.103

Rating: teen (weed, bj mention)

Anthony’s phone screen had a crack that ran all the way through the middle. He didn’t mind enough to get it fixed and he certainly didn’t want to get a new phone just because of a minor inconvenience.

Anthony: hey, can I come over?

Brandon: sure, bitch

Anthony: k, be right there

~

Brandon Rogers was one of Anthony’s oldest friends. He worked in e-commerce so he could literally phone it in from home. Anthony hung out at his place a lot after work.

“Anthony!” Brandon greeted him at the door of his house with a jovial open armed gesture. He was barefoot and wore an old dirty yellow T-shirt with jeans shorts. He looked like a grandpa but with great hair and large, feminine eyes.

The two friends hugged. Anthony smelled weed, which was promising.

They sat down at the kitchen table of the richly decorated home. It was just like Anthony had time-traveled to the nineteen-sixties. Everything was green, yellow and brown, with exotic house plants cheering the place up. Works of art hung on every wall. The furniture was dark brown, with lots of open cabinets full of curiosities and knick-knacks.

“Well you look like shit,” Brandon commented after taking a better look at Anthony. “Want something from the fridge?”

“Yeah, anything with ice, please.” Anthony spoke with such a hoarse voice, it barely sounded like him.

“Jesus, what’s happened to you?” Brandon handed Anthony a lemon tea with extra cubes.

“I didn’t sleep last night…”

“I can see that! Your pretty face is all pale. What’s wrong, buddy?”

Brandon could be rude and direct, but he could also be extremely sweet and caring. And Anthony always felt at home around him.

“Oh, you know, just another day at the office…” Anthony didn’t want to tell his friend. But he had to. Even if telling him would mean saying goodbye. Fuck…

Anthony and Brandon had met in college and knew almost everything about each other. Brandon always had a new boyfriend, and it always ended badly. But he’d tell the story so hilariously that they’d both just have a great time laughing about it.

Brandon tried time and time again to get Anthony to work less. To take up a hobby. Lately he’d somewhat convinced him. So Anthony had started painting, and several of his works hung around Brandon’s house now.

Yeah, Brandon was a good influence. Most of the time.

“Shit. Here.” He handed Brandon a handwritten note.

Brandon didn’t say anything but suddenly turned off his phone and walked resolutely out of the room.

Anthony looked out of the window. He heard helicopters buzzing around. The smoke from yet another wildfire was approaching. Luckily, Brandon’s home was weather-proofed.

Loud music started playing. Brandon reappeared, a little pale himself.

“What the… what the fuck, Anthony?”

“I can’t risk anyone hearing this.”

“Hearing what?!”

“Brandon, do you remember when I told you that thing…”

“No way. NO WAY! I mean, I do remember.”

“It worked.”

“Well slap me senseless you silly slut! Are you going to do it?”

“Yeah. I have to. I’m going first thing tomorrow morning. But I can’t do it without saying goodbye.”

“Anthony… this is so fucked up! I always knew you were special though…”

They both laughed.

“I’m sooo special!” Anthony danced around.

Brandon lifted his brow disapprovingly. “I’m too sober for this! Wanna smoke?”

“Hell yeah.”

They went over to Brandon’s couch and rolled up two blunts. They smoked in silence for a while.

Then, Brandon looked at Anthony, eyes heavy.

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?”

Anthony looked at his feet, and then at Brandon. “No, I guess not. But hey, who knows, right? The future isn’t set in stone.”

“Anthony, I’m- I, you know I love you, right?” Brandon’s pleading look intensified.

“Of course, and I love you too my friend.”

“Yeah, yeah we’re such good friends!”

Brandon massaged his temples, like he was trying to suppress something.

“Of course we’re friends! But Anthony, I’ve ALWAYS…”

Brandon sighed. His eyes watered up, as he looked at Anthony with a desperation he’d never shown before.

“You’re so much more than my friend, Anthony. You’re my role model, my rock, my… my crush… Shit...”

“Wait, you have a crush on me?” Anthony couldn’t help but flirt, even though he knew it was cruel. He smirked, but Brandon was dead serious.

“Listen, bitch. Can I please… can I just suck your dick? Just once! Just- close your eyes, pretend I’m someone else!” Brandon got ready to get on his knees, but Anthony stopped him.

“Whoa, Brandon, slow down! We’re not gonna do that, okay?”

Brandon started to full on cry now. Damnit, why did Anthony have to be cursed with his good looks. It ruined more for him than it fixed.

“There, there,” He hugged his friend and patted him on the back.

“I’m sorry, I just, this was my only chance to ask you, you know… Oh, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not an idiot! I mean you are, but not like that. I can’t help that I’m that bitch!” Anthony mimicked a girly voice: “That bitch that everyone wants to either be or fuck! That baaaad bitch!”

“You’re a lunatic.”

“I know.”

“I still love you, though.”

“And I still love you, too.”

“Remember when we went to that drag bar and all the queens wanted a picture with you?”

“Hehe, yeah I remember. We got so fucking drunk.”

“I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. It almost made me straight. You were truly stunning, like you were made to be a drag queen.”

“Maybe I missed my calling?”

“Yeah, you for sure did! But I guess it’s fine, you’re going to save us all.”

“I have no idea if I will… I might make everything worse.”

“Can’t get any worse, Anth. It can’t get any worse. Look, it’s black outside. Not cloudy. Black! We’re all living partly on canned food! It’s gonna run out sooner or later.”

Anthony took a long hit. His blunt was almost gone. He slowly breathed out.

They lit up another two blunts and after a long while, he finally drifted off to sleep.

~

Anthony woke up to a dark-orange sunrise. Brandon was still lying next to him on the couch. He was hugging Anthony’s foot like a teddy bear. But Anthony was very clear-headed. He maneuvered to free his leg, got up, smiled, bowed down and kissed his friend on the lips.

“See you, buddy,” he whispered. And he was off to his last day of work at Pressalike.

[brilium]

➳❥│K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3 ♡

Yooooo, this is the first time ever that I participate on this since I started writing, I’m so exciteddd! ♡ I really want to complete it but if I don’t I’ll make sure to post them later:)

My main fandoms rn are Jujutsu Kaisen and Attack on Titan, I thought about adding Chainsawman but I need to re-read it all the manga for accuracy 😩

♡ D I S C L A I M E R ‼️‼️

⤷This is obviously about to contain mature content, minors do not interact or you'll be blocked:) This goes also for ageless blogs so put it on your blog pls.

⤷If you don't like this kind of stuff, just ignore it and keep scrolling or block me ♡

⤷SatoSugu and Eren are my soft pookies, so there might be more of them in the list, sorry. I need to write about them a lot to live 😩

♡ M A S T E R L I ST ♡

❥DAY 1. Filming! with Suguru Geto

╰┈➤Summary. Starting to sell content online is giving you a good source of money and, maybe, meeting with one of your mutuals might bring a good content for your account.

❥DAY 2. Voyeurism! with Mikasa Ackerman

╰┈➤Summary. Your organized roommate hates your messy ways to live but, a little mistake with the closet door might lead her to break those walls on her.

❥DAY 3. Camgirl! with Eren Jaeger

╰┈➤Summary. Eren got you a tulip necklace on your birthday, one that you never take off, not even during your livestreams on a secret site at night. And Eren could recognize that necklace anywhere.

❥DAY 4. Car Sex! with Toji Fushiguro

╰┈➤ Ok, I'll be honest, I wrote it but I didn't liked it JKDDJKH. So I'll post it when I've finished the list lol

❥DAY 5. Clothes on! with Jean Kristein

╰┈➤Summary. You're a pain in the ass for Jean, and for you? He's a nuisance before meeting up with Eren for a hook up. Fortunately, the two best students of Dr. Smith are smart (or horny) enough to find a middle point where they can do more than fighting.

❥DAY 6. Cheating! with Satoru Gojo

╰┈➤Summary.Your boyfriend, hated by all your friends, turns you down again on a dinner that you planned for weeks and Satoru shows up at a bar to wash away all your worries like he always does.

❥DAY 7. Size Kink! with Reiner Braun

╰┈➤Summary. Attending to the gym is tiring. And in the morning shift? Worse. But the fat crush on your coach makes it lighter for you. One day, you decide to take the risk to finally make a move with him.

❥DAY 8. Phone Sex! with Eren Jaeger

╰┈➤Summary. A boundarie of not having sex with your hot ex-fuckboy boyfriend for a whole month is eating you from the inside and you decide that it's time to tempt him with a good night selfie.

❥DAY 9. Aphrodisiac! with Nanami Kento

╰┈➤Summary. Nanami has been dealing with a lot of stress at the office lately, and you decided to buy him a naturalist tea that it supposed to help with the stress relief. It seems to help with stress in a very particular way...

❥DAY 10. Deep Throat! with Toji Fushiguro

╰┈➤Summary. Megumi got in a fight for the third time in the month, and his father had to attend with Megumi's teacher to talk about his behavior. Toji finds her hot and annoying. Maybe there's one way to fix his annoyance by hearing her yell.

❥DAY 11. Thigh Riding! with Erwin Smith

❥DAY 12. Caught Sex! with Suguru Geto

╰┈➤Summary. One of Suguru's co-workers keeps trying to flirt with him even though she knows that he's dating you and you sneak out on the changing rooms to show her how to strike back properly.

❥DAY 13. Toys! with Armin Arlet

❥DAY 14. Witch! Reader (Medieval AU) with Eren Jaeger

╰┈➤Summary. You’ve been calmly living in the heart of the forest since people started to believe in stupid rumors of witches. When you cross paths with a hurt man hunting, you give him a hand and turns your small wooden house into a hotter place.

❥DAY 15. Morning Sex! with Porco Galliard

╰┈➤Summary. Marcel brought his not anymore little brother to the beach vacation, you thirsty in the morning might lead you to let your morning desires lead you.

❥DAY 16. Public Sex! with Satoru Gojo

╰┈➤Summary. Satoru Gojo has an arranged marriage since before his birth, and today is the day to impress each other’s family before the wedding preparations start but you both don’t seem so excited for it so you find the way to go with it through the thin paper walls.

❥DAY 17. Breeding Kink! with Nanami Kento

❥DAY 18. Shower Sex! with Levi Ackerman

❥DAY 19. Roleplay! with Suguru Geto

❥DAY 20. Girls Night! with Shoko Ieri and Utahime Iori

❥DAY 21. Succubus! with Armin Arlert

╰┈➤Summary. Eren is being a headache talking about having weird dreams and sleep paralysis, Armin always ignores his blabbering, but when he wakes up in the middle of the night with a weight on his lap, he starts to questionate himself.

❥DAY 22. Hate Sex! with Sukuna’s True Form

❥DAY 23. Costumes! with Eren Jaeger

❥DAY 24. Gloryhole! with Toji Fushiguro

❥DAY 25. Make Up Sex! with Satoru Gojo

❥DAY 26. Face Sitting! with Porco Galliard

❥DAY 27. Overstimulation! with Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto

❥DAY 28. Office Sex! with Nanami Kento

❥DAY 29. Somnophilia! with Jean Kristein

❥DAY 30. Gangbang! with Eren Jaeger, Jean Kristen and Connie Springer

Divider by: benkeibear

[pullhisteeth]

knight in a navy blue boiler suit | eddie munson x reader

part 1 | part 2

summary you take your car in for fixing and the mechanics are a**holes about it. Eddie, though, saves the day. [1.8k]

contains misogynists >:(, generally a bit of a nervy situation in an autoshop, mechanic!eddie, fem!reader, male saviour trope (sorryyy), use of y/n, fluff! big fat set up for a part 2 lol x

-

“Hello?” you call out. You’re hesitant to walk further than where you’re hovering in the doorway because you’re surrounded by suspended cars and tools scattered on the ground, and knowing your own tendency for being reckless underfoot you think it best to stay where you are. Also, though you desperately want to think good of everyone you meet, you’re a woman in an auto shop. Alone.

“You alright, miss?”

To your left, a young guy rolls out from underneath a car and stands. He’s short and covered in what you assume is oil, but he has a kind face that puts you at ease.

“Hi,” you say, trying your best to sound more confident than you are. “I, uh, my car’s busted, I think.”

He walks over to you, wringing his hands with a scruffy rag, and you try your hardest to not shuffle backwards.

“What’s up with it?”

“It, uh, stutters, I guess, when I turn it on. Sometimes it takes a few goes to get it goin’.”

His face moulds into a hard, concerned expression, before cutting into a grin. His whole face scrunches when he does, and you try to ignore the way you sense the kindness slipping away.

“We’ll take a look at it for ya, no worries. You got the keys?”

You dig your hand in the pocket of your jeans and when you drop the key in his hand, he seizes yours and says, “we’ll get it sorted, don’t you worry.”

His words tone drips with a saccharine sweetness that claws under your skin. You pull your hand from his grip with a small, “thanks,” and he says, “come write your number down for me, babe, and we’ll give you a call when we’re done.”

You follow him quietly through the shop into a small office at the back. It’s lit by ugly white lights and made up of dark faux-leather couches and a makeshift wooden counter, where there’s a book open. He hands you a pen and you write your name and your number, as well as the make of your car and the licence plate, and try all the while to ignore his eyes boring holes in the side of your face.

You don’t see any other mechanics as you walk back through the shop, except a floppy mass of dark, curly hair poking out under another car.

-

The phone rings at half four that afternoon. You’re on the couch, house-bound without a car to get you anywhere, wasting the day away with daytime television and a book.

When you answer the phone, the voice on the other end isn’t the one you spoke to earlier. It’s softer, kinder, and you can tell that whoever it is, they’re tired.

“Hey, is this y/n?”

“Hi, yeah. That’s me.”

“Hey, your car’s ready if you wanna come pick it up.”

“Thanks, yeah, I’ll be there by five?”

“See ya then.”

The line goes dead before you can say goodbye back.

-

By the time you reach the garage it’s half five and dark. It’s that weird time of year, at the break of fall, where the days are warm and the dark brings blistering cold. So, naturally, you’re freezing, late and embarrassed.

You tread over the threshold at the garage and, just like earlier, hesitate before moving any further. There are more men here now – five or so of them, dotted around the room. There are two in the corner, both tall and broad and a lot older than the one you met before, and they turn to look at you when you arrive.

You see them utter something to each other – they’re too far away for you to hear, but they make sure to keep themselves quiet anyway and it sets your teeth on edge.

“Hey, darlin’, what’s up?” One of them, the taller of the two, calls over to you. The rest of the men turn to look at you when he does, and if you didn’t feel like a deer in headlights before, you certainly do now. 

You scan the room and you know how wide-eyed and nervous you must look. There are six men in total; in the other corner, you see the one who took your keys earlier on.

You wonder who you spoke to on the phone.

One of them, whose hair you recognise from when you left, is the youngest. He’s maybe a couple years older than you at most, and unlike the rest of them he isn’t sneering at you, or smiling at all, actually. If anything, he’s looking at you with eyes as wide as you think yours are.

“I’m here to get my car,” you declare, not sure exactly to whom you should be speaking. You direct it vaguely at the guy who acknowledged you, who's walking over to you with a smug smile that turns your stomach.

“What kinda car was it?” He’s stood right in front of you now, too close for comfort, and you have to crane your neck up to look him in the eye.

When you answer his question he chuckles, shaking his head slightly. You’re not sure what’s funny.

“Yeah, yeah, follow me,” he says through bared teeth. It makes the hairs on your arms stand on end.

He takes you to the office where he roots in a box for your keys. As he hands them to you he places his hand on your lower back and guides you out of the office and back through the garage. His head is hanging low, mouth by your ear, and he’s telling you in a low, somewhat theatrical voice that there’s nothing wrong with your car, and that it’s okay, girls like you make these mistakes sometimes.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, we won’t charge ya.”

He stops walking when you reach the middle of the room. He rounds on you, towering over you in a way that kicks you into a stressed stupor. You’re not sure how to deal with this situation, with a mean man twice your size domineering you like this in a room full of other men who’d likely do the same if given the chance.

Underneath it all, though, there’s an anger simmering lowly. You’ve been driving for a few years now, and you’ve learned a thing or two about cars in that time. It’s unfair that they can be so condescending just because you’re a woman.

You want to fight him on it, argue your case and say that can’t be true, you haven’t looked properly, I know what I’m talking about. But you don’t – or can’t. You’re left speechless, mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish out of water.

And then he laughs at you. It’s not like the snide chuckle from earlier; this is a full laugh, laced with cruelty and condescension. And as he does, he looks up and around the room, and the other men laugh with him. You’re trapped in a room filled with misogynists who are all laughing at you.

“Cut it out, guys.”

His voice cuts across the room like a gunshot. It’s irritated and cold but you recognise it as the one you heard down the phone. You turn to look at where it came from and find the younger man stalking miserably toward you.

His hair is wild, you notice. Even when he’s upright and not laid flat under a car, it seems to have a life of its own. He’s tall, though he has nothing on the guy stood beside you, and the arms of his boiler suit are tied around his waist to reveal a filthy white t-shirt. When his eyes meet yours they soften irresistibly and suddenly you feel the desire to run begin to dissipate.

As he reaches you, the laughter starts up again. He stops a few feet away from you, a silent invitation for you to meet him halfway so he doesn’t get as close as the other guy. You do, stepping over to him, and he leans down and says warmly, “Sorry about them.” As he turns toward the door, he adds, “I’ll show you where your car is.”

You follow silently, trying your hardest to tune out the now boisterous and unyielding laughter behind you. He takes you out onto the street, where you see your car parked a couple spaces down, but he stops when you reach the wide doorway and turns to give them a glare.

He looks back at you, where you’re stood with your arms crossed around your middle to guard from the cold, and says, “seriously, I’m sorry ‘bout them. They’re a bunch of assholes.”

You struggle to find words, focus instead taken by the way the orange streetlamp makes his hair glow like the sun.

“Are you okay?” As he asks this, he brings a tentative hand to brush your shoulder, as if to lightly shake you awake.

“Yeah,” you say, voice almost a whisper. “Thanks.”

“Here,” he says, gesturing to where your beaten-up old car is parked lazily by the curb. “I didn’t get a chance to look at it, but if you want…” He hesitates, stumbling a little over his words, a complete contradiction to the white-hot confidence he’d just displayed in the garage.

You look up at him, hoping your face is enough to encourage him to continue. It seems to be, because he meets your gaze again and smiles.

“I can have a look at it for you, if ya want. Not here,” he adds quickly. “You can bring it to my place. Only if you want, of course.”

His politeness and the extension of completely unnecessary kindness feeds a warmth that spreads from your scalp down your spine. You beam up at him, and attempt to soothe what you think are his nerves by saying, “that’s really kind of you, thank you.”

“Okay, just, uh… I’ll get your number from the book if that’s cool.” You nod your head at him a little too enthusiastically.

“Oh,” you gasp, realising you have no idea who this man really is. “I’m y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” he says with a grin that’s got none of the artificial flavour of the man you saw this morning, and you realise he knew your name already because he's the one who called you. You feel a familiar heat travel up your neck and spread across your cheeks, but he just chuckles at you. “’M Eddie.”

“Eddie,” you repeat in a breath.

He walks you to your car, which is approximately fifteen steps, but the gesture spreads that warmth even further. He’s handsome and kind and he’s going to fix your car for you; what’s not to like? 

“Thanks again,” you say quietly as you open the driver side door. You stand inside it for a moment and look at him. He’s looking back with a lopsided smile and you can’t help but admire his big brown eyes and the dimples in his cheeks.

“Sure thing, sugar,” he slurs in response, taking the top of the door and opening it wider for you to slide in. Your eyes flicker to the chain around his neck and then the thick silver rings on three of his slender fingers. They make a metallic clink when his hand grips the frame of the door.

You get in, and he leans down to say, “see ya soon,” before shutting the door for you.

[galatially]

❝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭❞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 x 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — my gaze lingered, waiting for you to notice me; how far would bucky barnes go to get the attention of his favorite tutor?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 3.5K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, thigh riding, oral (fem receiving), idiots in love

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — my old page did not deserve the fics i had written for it, lol. because this was fucking cute

“…hello? James?” 

Fingers snapped in front of his line of sight. He blinked and saw your brown eyes in front of him, your full lips fixed into a frown. 

“You asked me here, remember? I have my own midterms to study for.”

Bucky smiled, broad and smug. “You know you love bein’ around me, Y/N/N.”

“Please stop calling me that. Only people from home call me that.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair. “Can I call you sugar?”

You gave him a flat look. “You can pay attention to this study guide I spent all night drawing up for you.”

Bucky blew out a breath, turned to the notes in front of him, and studied. For ten minutes. He looked over at you. The tip of your tongue peeked from between your plush lips as you scrawled out notes with one hand and flipped through your textbook with the other. 

When had he ever been so entranced by someone before? 

“Looking at me isn’t going to help you pass your Calculus II midterm,” you chided. 

“I’m hungry. You?”

You set down your pen, a thick brow arched. “If we break for food, will you let me study?”

A wolfish grin stretched across his face. “Among other things.”

“Fine.” You slammed your textbook shut and gathered your things. “Meet me at Daly’s in fifteen.”

Bucky nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. “See you in fifteen.”

Fridays at Daly’s were your least favorite nights.

The small pub couldn’t have held more than one hundred people but everyone seemed to want to pack in like sardines. Whiffs of cologne, floral perfume, and body odor intermingled with the smell of bar food and alcohol. 

You sat at the bar, nursing a glass of pear and apple cider, eyeing the door for signs of Bucky. You raised your phone and surveyed the screen: half past eight. 

He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago! 

You sighed and took a sip of your drink. 

“Hey, Y/N/N.” 

Your childhood friend, Steve Rogers, took the stool beside you, his blue eyes bright. 

“Hey, Stevie,” you said, smiling. “What brings you here? I thought you had a study group tonight.”

He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “We’re taking a break to get some food and then heading back to my dorm. What about you? You not tutoring tonight?”

“I was. But my student wanted food and now he’s late.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this.”

“You even got dressed up,” the blond remarked. 

Your face warmed. “No, I didn’t!” Compared to what you normally wore, your fitted black jeans and lacy crop top were dressier. And maybe you dusted your favorite highlighter along the apples of your cheeks and swiped some of your trusty lipgloss on your lips. 

You didn’t do it for James Barnes. Far from it. 

“I just felt like getting a little cute, Rogers! Is that so bad?”

He put his palms up, a smirk on his lips. “I’m just saying you look mighty fine for someone you view as just a student.”

You took another sip of your cider. “I don’t think anything of James.”

Steve’s brows furrowed. “James? As in Bucky Barnes?”

“Why does everyone call him Bucky? That’s such an odd nickname.”

“It’s short for Buchanan,” a voice answered. 

You and Steve turned and saw the man in question standing behind them. His brown eyes were hard as they looked between the two of you. “It’s my middle name. Everybody calls me Bucky.” He tipped his chin to Steve. “‘Sup, Rogers?”

“Yo,” Steve said, throwing him a two finger salute. He stood up from his barstool and turned to face Jo. “Text me later, okay? Let me know you got home okay.”

“I can get her home just fine.”

You shot Bucky a glare. “Yeah, okay, Stevie. Have fun with your study group.”

Steve pressed a kiss to your temple and gave a short nod to Bucky before disappearing into the crowd of coeds. 

“You and Rogers, huh? Didn’t peg you for the type,” Bucky said.

You narrowed your eyes. “And what type is that, James?”

“The girl that falls for the blond-haired, blue-eyed, all-American type.”

“Not that it’s any of your business who I spend my time with, Steve and I have been friends since grade school. He’s practically my brother.” 

His face softened. “I’m sorry, sugar. I didn’t know.”

You shrugged. “You never asked.” You knocked back the rest of your drink and slammed a ten dollar note on the bar. “Good night, James.” You slid off of the barstool and pushed past him. 

A hand gripped your wrist. “Y/M, wait. I’m sorry. I know I’m late but I can explain.”

You didn’t need an explanation, you didn’t care. Why should you? You weren’t even really friends. Glorified acquaintances at best. But despite yourself, you turned to face him, a dark brow raised. “Well? Spit it out.” 

“I was nervous.” Under the dimmed lights, you saw his cheeks turn red. “Can I be totally honest with you? I don’t need your tutoring.” 

You frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I signed up for your study sessions to get closer to you.” He took hold of your hand and threaded his fingers between yours. “I’ve been trying to find a way to get you to notice me and I figured that getting your help with a class was a good way.”

“Why go through all of that trouble, though?”

“Y/N.” Bucky looked you up and down. “I like you.”

Your jaw went slack. Did you hear him right? “You…like me?”

He tugged your arm and pulled you into his chest. His right thumb skimmed along the curve of your bottom lip. “I was pissed when I saw Rogers talking to you. Looked like you two were close.”

“We are,” you said, your voice hoarse. 

“Closer.”

You shook your head, your earrings hitting your cheeks. “Steve’s like a brother to me and I’m a sister to him. He’s dating a girl named Sharon from back home. She’s a Sociology major.” 

“Good to know.”

Bucky’s touch scorched your skin. When did his his free hand go to the small of your back? You couldn’t remember the last time a guy’s touch made you feel this way, if ever. But here you were, in James Buchanan Barnes’ arms in the middle of a dingy pub. 

“James, I — ”

“Have I ever told you I love when you call me James?” A slow smirk made its way onto his lips. “You make it sound so sensual. Sexy.” Your mouth dried. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, dazed.

“You’ll see.”

You had never put much thought to how Bucky’s dorm would look but you were surprised to see that he and his roommate were clean and organized.

Before you could say anything, his mouth slanted over yours. He buried his fingers in your curls and lightly tugged. The moan that left you was swallowed by the kiss. You fisted his shirt collar and yanked him forward. His kiss was sloppy, teeth and skin and tongues clashing together. 

“James.” His name was breathy as it left your lips. Your eyes flicked between his eyes and his mouth and that turned him on. Your chest rose and fell in exaggerated breaths. “What are we doing?”

“Something we should’ve done a long time ago.” Bucky kissed you again, harder than the first time. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you onto his lap. Your clothed pussy ground against his thigh, your wetness dampening his pant leg. 

“You all wet for me, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you teased, your voice husky. 

Bucky groaned and scooped your up into his arms and carried you to the bed. “Call me sir again and you won’t be able to walk for a week.” 

Your jaw went slack. You’d never heard him talk to you like that. So rough and authoritative. You put a hand on his chest. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

Your brown eyes searched his. “If we do this, we can’t be just friends. You know that, right? Everything changes.” 

“Oh, Y/N/N.” Bucky stroked the side of your face. “I’ve never wanted to be just friends with you.” He kissed you again. Both pairs of hands fumbled to remove their clothing as you ground your wet mound against his clothed thigh. “Gettin’ eager, huh, sugar?”

You pulled back, a half smile on your lips. “Are you even Southern?” 

“I’m an army brat,” Bucky answered, “But I spent more time in Kentucky.”

“Huh.” You smiled. “You should tell me more about your childhood sometime.”

“Sure. But right now, I’m fuckin’ desperate to be inside of you.” His eyes lingered on your plush mouth. “And I’m curious to know how many times I can make you cum.”

You made a guttural sound in the back of your throat. Your head was spinning; no one had ever spoken to you like this before. From your few sexual encounters in university, you found that most men advertised themselves opposite of how they were. You’d find yourself left unsatisfied and had sworn off of flings in lieu of tutoring and classes. 

You’d been sitting on Bucky’s lap for mere minutes and you were ready to give yourself over to him tenfold. 

“Well?”

You blinked. “What?”

“How many times do you want to cum?”

You rested your head into the curve of his shoulder. “You can’t just ask me questions like that, James.” 

A shudder rippled through Bucky. “Why not? I want you to feel good.”

You nipped at the skin peeking out from beneath his shirt collar. “I want you to feel good, too.”

He groaned and flexed his thigh. The friction made you throw your head back and a loud moan to spill from your mouth. “Fuck, baby, you sound like sin.” He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of her neck. He nipped and licked at the satin skin, chuckling when you hissed in pleasure. 

“Fuck.” 

You ground your wet cunt against his hard thigh, your grip on his shoulders tightening. Bucky’s hands found your hips and helped your build up a rhythm. Your breasts bounced as you rode his thigh and soft grunts and groans jumped from your honeyed mouth. You started moving faster, signaling you were close. “Fuck, James, I’m going to cum.”

Bucky tightened his hold on your hips. “You gonna cum from ridin’ my thigh? I haven’t even been inside yet.” He held you still and you whined, your brown eyes glaring and blown out. “I want to taste you.”

You eyes widened some. “What?”

He flipped them over and made quick work of your skin-tight jeans. His rough hands trailed along your hipbones and pelvis, tracing light circles in her skin. Your eyes screwed shut and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. His lips replaced his fingers and you sucked in a sharp breath. You fisted tufts of his hair when you felt his warm breath on your cunt.

Bucky kitten-licked your sensitive bud and you arched your back off of the bed. He loved how responsive you were. He looked up at your writhing form and chuckled. 

“Your pussy’s weeping for me, sugar.”

“Stop teasing me,” you whined. He licked a stripe up your slit and you yelped. “James!”

“Keep saying my name like that, sugar. Let the neighbors hear.”

Neighbors? You were so far gone you didn’t care if the whole campus heard you. You just needed his mouth. Your head was spinning and your body tingled. 

“I swear to God, Bucky, if you don’t fuck me — ” 

Your words left on a moan as his tongue dove into your creamy center. You’d never gotten head like this, fast and hard. Bucky pinched and rolled your clit between two fingers and you gasped, squeezing his head between your thighs. “Oh, fuck! Fuck, yes!”

His laughter vibrated against your pussy. He’d been dreaming about what you’d taste like. His fantasies did you no justice. You were sweet like honey and he couldn’t get enough. He threw your legs over his shoulders and took hold of your hips to still you. Your moans were frenzied and throaty, echoing off of his dorm room walls. He felt your belly tighten and added two fingers as he sucked and lapped at your cunt. 

“Fuck, Bucky, I’m cumming!” A broken mix between a sob and a moan left your mouth and you went limp.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to catch your breath,” he said, smug.

You threw an arm over your face. “I can’t. No more.”

Bucky moved up your body. “Oh, baby. We’re going all night.”

Bucky had woken alone many times in his life. But waking up beside the imprint of what was your body burned something hellish in his chest. 

“Yo, Barnes!” His roommate, Sam Wilson, pounded his fist against the door. “I need to get changed for my next class! Tell your guest to find her own room!”

Bucky groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Come in, you idiot! ’S just me.”

The door opened with Sam’s head creeping around it. His brown eyes gave a tentative scan of the room before pushing the door and striding into the room. He looked his roommate up and down. “What’s that on your face?”

“What?”

“That look. Like somebody just kicked your damn dog in front of you.” Sam threw his shirt over his head and went to rifle through his wardrobe. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bucky said on a sigh. 

“Bullshit. I’ve never seen you so hurt.” Sam draped a towel over his shoulder. “What, your little flavor not like you in the daylight?”

Bucky threw a pillow at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

“What! I’m just askin’ a question!” Sam turned to face him, shower caddy in hand. “Whatever that girl did to you last night wasn’t what you needed.” He rolled his eyes and left Bucky alone in their room. 

“It’s what she did this morning,” Bucky said to himself. 

After not hearing from you for two weeks, Bucky had gone to the tutoring center to question you. Why were you ignoring him? Was the sex too far? Why did she leave him that morning?

He knocked on the glass window and saw Maria Hill, the librarian and director of the tutoring center, sitting at her desk. Her bespectacled blue eyes found his, a wide smile stretched along her lips. “James! I haven’t seen your name on the sign-in sheet in a while. What’s up?”

“Hey, Ms. Hill.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you heard from Y/N? I don’t have her number but she’s been ignoring my messages and I was getting worried.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought she put the bulletin on Blackboard.” Bucky raised a brow. “She’s been sick the past two weeks. Her roommate, Wanda, has been getting her coursework for her.”

“Oh.”

Ms. Hill gave him a small smile. “If you want to check on her, go talk to Wanda.”

Bucky nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I’d find her, would you?”

“I’m sorry, no.” She pursed her lips in thought. “But I think her friend Steve would.”

“Hey, Bucky.”

There was no plausible reason for Bucky to have disliked Steve Rogers as much as he did. Well, he knew the reason. From what little Bucky knew about him from you and Sam, he was a nice guy. He was the football team’s running back, he tutored like you did, and vice president of Lambda Kappa Tau. Though he was too boy next door for Bucky’s taste, they could be great friends if they’d spent a night at Daly’s together. 

The local diner, Rusty’s, was quiet this afternoon.  Bucky had seen Steve on shift a few times he’d come in with you for breaks but they rarely spoke. “Hey, R — Steve. I’m sorry to interrupt you while you’re at work.”

Steve waved him off, a broad smile on his face. “No problem. What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask if you’ve heard from Y/N lately.”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “Last I heard about her was a Snapchat message from Wanda last week. Said that she was banning contact to Y/N until she got better.” He lifted a shoulder. “We’ve texted a few times since when she’s awake but I haven’t seen her, no.”

Bucky hummed. “Well, at least I know she’s not ignoring me.”

“Ignoring you? What’d you do?”

“Nothing!” Steve raised a brow. “We just — we had a thing. A moment, really, last Friday.”

“After that night at the bar.”

“Yeah. I mean, I thought we were fine. But thinking back, maybe I came on too strong.” Bucky put his face in his hands and groaned. “I fucked up.”

“Look,” Steve sighed, “I can’t speak for Y/N but I’ve known her since fourth grade. She’s not someone that runs away from issues or people.” He chuckled. “Besides, she never fakes being sick. She’s too much of a workaholic.”

Bucky snorted. “Tell me about it.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard from some of the guys on the team that she was worse than some of their hardest professors. Though I don’t know why you were one of her tutees.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re in my buddy, Piet’s, STAT301 class. From what I’ve heard, Biostatistics is no walk in the park.” 

“If you’re talking about Maximoff, tell him he owes me coffee and a new notebook.”

“I will,” Steve said, laughing. A blonde came up beside Steve and motioned to the table across from where both men stood. “Let me finish up here. Thanks, Nadine.” He turned back to Bucky. “I’m going to give you Wanda’s number. Text her to see if Y/N willing to have visitors.”

“Thanks.” The right side of Bucky’s mouth quirked up. “You’re an all right guy, Steve.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Bucky. Maybe after you and Y/N figure your thing out, we can all hang. Me, you, Y/N, and my girlfriend, Sharon. It’d be nice.”

Bucky clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “I’d really like that.” 

“Y/N/N?”

From beneath your duvet, you poked your head out. “Yeah?”

“You’ve got a visitor. One of your students.”

You groaned. “Tell whoever it is that I’m indisposed, Wanda. Give them the number of my replacement.”

“You hiding from me, Y/L/N?”

Despite the pounding in your head, you jolted forward at the voice. Leaning against your doorway stood James Buchanan Barnes in all of his sexy glory. Suddenly, you were aware of your own state of dress: bloodshot eyes, oversized bonnet atop your head, and a low cut tank top with no bra. 

You squared your shoulders and narrowed your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to go through three people to find you,” he said. “You had me worried.”

Your face softened. “You don’t need to worry about me, James.” You gave a weak chuckle. “I’m just a little tired, is all.”

“Your roommate said that you overworked yourself.” He crossed the room and turned on your bedside lamp. In the soft glow, his brown eyes were soft as they took you in. His large hand cupped your forehead. “You still have a bit of a fever. Have you eaten today?”

“I just woke up,” you admitted. 

“Have you been drinking water?”

“There’s a water bottle in front of my side dresser.” You put your hand over his and moved it to your cheek. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

Bucky smiled. “’S fine. I like taking care of you.”

You chuckled. “Don’t count me out just yet. Before you came, I was awake for three hours.”

“Bravo.” He moved his hand away from you face. “I want to talk about last Saturday. If that’s okay.”

You pulled your brows down. “What about it?”

“You left. No note, no text. You just left me alone.”

Your eyes flicked to your bedroom door. “Can you shut the door, please? This sounds like a private conversation.” 

He nodded and strode across the room, closing the door. When he turned to face you, you’d pushed your duvet off of your body and moved to the middle of your bed. 

“Come sit down.”

“Sugar — ”

“Please, Bucky.” He sighed and moved to sit beside you. “You told me that you liked me and I never answered.”

“You didn’t.”

“Well, I do. Like you, I mean. I don’t know why I never said anything.” You smiled at him. “Though the sex solidified it for me.”

“So to clarify: you like me, too, and you weren’t avoiding me?”

“Why would I avoid you? You’ve literally seen me naked!”

Bucky threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know! I thought that I did something or that you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Of course I like you, you clown.” You rested your head against his shoulder. “So much.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple. “Enough to go on a real date with me?”

“Are you going to be on time?”

“For you, I’ll be early.” 

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i'll say it once, i'll say it again: brown 👏🏽 eyed 👏🏽 bucky 👏🏽 supremacy 👏🏽