#okay maybe past 10 days counting last week

[tinesleftnipple]

this line here is chefs kiss because coupled with that tinge of jealousy in his voice, qian is calling yuan by his full name. Wei ZhiYuan, the "yuan that belongs to wei"

[queers-gambit]

God's Plan

prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.3k+

note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.

warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.

part two: Two to Tango

"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"

You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."

"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"

You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"

"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.

So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.

You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.

Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.

However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.

You were beat.

You were overwhelmed.

You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.

You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:

what time do you think you'll be off?

He replied when you got to your car:

maybe around 8?

You sniffled, nodding, answering:

okay, see you when you get home.

As you exited the parking lot, he replied:

what? you're off?

And you answered:

yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?

When you made three turns, he sent back:

i'll try, peach 💙

When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.

You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,

hey, are you gonna be much later?

You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,

i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home

You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.

Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.

"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"

"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.

He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."

"But I haven't seen you."

"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"

"No, Carmen, go to sleep."

"You sound mad."

"I'm not."

"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.

"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."

He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"

"No, Carmen, Jesus - "

"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.

You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"

"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"

"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"

"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."

Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."

He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."

You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.

"And you can be a dramatic bitch."

"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.

Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."

"What?" You muttered.

"You're late for work."

"Called in."

He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."

You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.

He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.

After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.

When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.

You still hadn't woken up when he got back.

So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.

You were awake around 4 am.

The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.

Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.

You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.

You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.

Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.

All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.

Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.

"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"

"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."

You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.

Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.

You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!

Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?

All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.

Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.

You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.

You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"

"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"

"No?"

"Where are you, then?"

"I'm home."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"

He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.

"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"

"Oh, well... Why're you there?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."

"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.

"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."

"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"

"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."

"I thought we could get back into it tonight."

You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."

He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."

"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"

"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."

"But tomorrow's... Friday?"

"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"

"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"

"Baby - "

"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.

"What?"

"We need space from this relationship."

"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "

"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."

"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet, no."

"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "

"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."

"I didn't mean that - "

"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."

He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.

When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.

[ part two: ] Two to Tango

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[hannieehaee]

hii!! i hope ure having a great day

i just wanted to request loser!scoups hehe I RLLY LOVED CHANS VERSION AND WAS HOPING TO SEE MORE 🫶🏻 anyways take your time to answer when ure free, thanku!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!seungcheol, afab reader, smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2686

part 1, part 2, part 3

a/n: hii thank u for requesting <33 i never considered loser!cheol before but ngl i loved writing it hehe i hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

despite popular belief, seungcheol was actually a bit of a loser.

okay, maybe his appearance didn't necessarily fit the bill (with his slicked back hair and bulging muscles), but everything else about choi seungcheol truly screamed loser.

even with a large group of fratboy friends, seungcheol was still the loser of the friend group, being the only one who had opted out of joining the frat and who spent every day and night studying rather than ever attending any of his friends' parties.

this was all by choice, he swears! seungcheol was just far too serious about his education to let anything become a distraction. and it had always been like this, even dating back all the way to middle school (jeonghan could vouch for this, having known him basically since diapers). due to this, seungcheol had always been kind of a black sheep in any and every social situation he ever found himself in. as a result, seungcheol ended up becoming shy, awkward, utterly embarrassing in social situations, and as jeonghan liked to put it, a 'virgin loser.'

even if seungcheol wanted to disagree with his friend, he knew he was right. here he was, twenty-one years of age and still a lonely virgin who had never even felt the touch of a woman's hand in his. he'd had opportunities before, set ups orchestrated by his friends, but he always managed to fuck them up. due to jeonghan's outgoing disposition, the girls he usually set him up with were set for a surprise upon meeting a his friend seungcheol, who could not even hold eye contact for more then twelve seconds (he counted).

except this year that would all change.

now in his senior year of college, seungcheol had an epiphany.

on the very first week of senior year, upon being assigned a new dorm-mate due to his previous one transfering, seungcheol finally saw a mirror of himself.

his new roommate was, for lack of a better term, a fucking loser (the term being courtesy of jeonghan once again). seungcheol had barely met the guy, yet he could not stand one more moment of conversation with him. not only was he a know-it-all who could only ever talk about academics, but he was maybe even more of a loser virgin than seungcheol was (at least that's what seungcheol was able to assess from the three separate occasions in which he walked in on his roommate watching porn in the common area of the dorm). his hygiene was terrible and his wide-rimmed glasses made him look like the typical nerd in every high school movie. everything about him was what seungcheol feared to one day become.

this one week of torture had been enough for seungcheol to finally take jeonghan up on his offer to join his frat and subsequently move into the frat house. granted, jeonghan had to break a few rules to allow a new pledge with zero obstacles in the way, but jeonghan was just charming enough to get away with it.

seungcheol had already spent the past 10+ years with perfect grades and pristine extra curriculars, so he figured that even if he completely flunked these last two semesters, he would still be a shoe-in for the masters program he'd been eyeing since arriving to university.

so now seungcheol was immersed in the frat lifestyle, though he still felt a bit out of place, which unfortunately for cheol, was something his good friend jeonghan noticed immediately. but this would only be a problem for a short while.

unbeknownst to seungcheol, jeonghan had orchestrated a plan for seungcheol's first frat party. it all started with giving seungcheol a bit of a new look. jeonghan insisted on throwing out most of cheol's 'nerdy clothes' (admittedly, he did dress like an old man at times), traded in his thick-rimmed glasses for some better fitting specs and lastly, gave cheol a trim to better frame his face. after all these changes, cheol felt more confident but still did not feel ready to attend one of the frat's well-known parties.

the decision was, however, taken for him, as he found himself in attendance to one just a few days later. also unknown to cheol was that jeonghan had been playing cupid once more, scouting to see which one of his closer girl-friends would be a good fit for his friend. and of course, his attention immediately fell on you.

jeonghan had only known you since the last semester of his junior year, in which the two of you had partnered up for a project that took up the entire fifteen weeks of instruction. the two of you hit it off pretty easily, but you hadn't quite caught his attention in a non-platonic way.

but you had caught someone else's.

although it had only been a fleeting moment, jeonghan caught onto every single look and action that had occurred the day in which seungcheol had accidentally interrupted a study session between the two of you.

he had easily noticed the blush in cheol's cheeks upon seeing you for the first time, along with the way he shyly checked you out when you weren't paying attention. what had surprised him the most, though, had been the way you checked out his friend as he went to leave the room. that had been enough for jeonghan to decide to play matchmaker between the two of you if the opportunity ever arose. and that was now.

getting the two of you alone was not difficult, but jeonghan knew better. he knew that sending the two of you into an empty room, completely blind to whatever he was planning was just a bad idea. so jeonghan decided that for the first time in his life, he would not scheme. he would simply set up the scene and leave the rest to you.

when jeonghan first came up to you a few days back and let you know about his friend's crush on you, you had been pleasantly surprised. what had shocked you the most, though, had been the revelation that jeonghan's cute friend was actually an inexperienced virgin. jeonghan told you to please not bring it up to cheol, but that he felt it was best you knew so you didnt feel caught off guard should you ever try to hit him up (which he knew you would). what jeonghan didnt realize was that this fact excited you more than you'd like to admit.

planting that seed was more than enough to get you looking for cheol in the empty room jeonghan had said he'd be in (okay, maybe he did scheme a little), prepared to deflower the pretty nerd you'd been thinking about every time you started to notice him sitting alone in the library every other day.

you had dressed to the nines, donning a red slip dress that gave you breathing room but still accentuated every part of your body you wished to stand out. ready and confident, you quietly opened the door to what you assumed to be jeonghan's room, knowing you'd find his pretty friend inside.

sitting alone on the bed, seemingly trying to psych himself up as he whispered affirmations to himself, the boy jumped back upon your unexpected intrusion, with his hears instantly turning red at realizing who you were.

you were jeonghan's pretty friend. the one seungcheol had had some unbecoming thoughts about immediately after seeing you in jeonghan's room last semester (and subsequently seeing you around campus as his eyes would unknowingly always search for you). and you looked .... fuck. and you were alone in han's room with him .... and you had closed the door right behind you .... and now you had walked all the way over to where he was sitting at the edge of the bed, not shocked at all to see him there ....

"hi," you smiled at him.

"h– hey."

"are you okay? how come you're here all alone?", you sat next to him on the bed, damning all boundaries, apparently.

"oh, i ... just a little nervous, i guess."

"yeah? of what?", despite the unexpectedness of the situation, you seemed genuinely interested, so seungcheol responded.

"it's, uh, my first party as a member of the frat."

"oh, really? i had no idea you were a member of the frat. that's pretty cool, seungcheol."

"you know my name?"

you scoot closer, smile still on your face, "yeah, of course i know your name. do you now mine?"

"oh, i, uh, yeah ..."

"okay, so we know each other. do you maybe want a friend to go out there with? maybe that would ease your nerves," your hand had somehow made its way to his thigh, now invading his personal space a bit. except he couldnt find it in himself to complain.

"t– that's fine, i, uh, i have han and– "

"but arent i better company?"

"y– you're ..."

"can i be honest with you, seungcheol?", you didnt wait for a response, "hannie told me that maybe you needed some help. that i could maybe help you out?"

"help? what type of help do you mean?"

you leaned in even closer, "do you want me to show you?"

"i ..."

"all you have to say is 'yes', cheollie ...", you breathed out now close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips.

he nodded and made an embarrassing noise of affirmation, completely giving up on speaking.

it was embarrassing how easily he let you turn him into a puddle, not even bothering to question how or why jeonghan orchestrated this situation. but that didnt matter as he finally felt the lips of a woman against his own – your lips; the lips of the girl he'd been crushing on from afar, jealous that maybe you'd become more than jeonghan's classmate. this was a clear declaration that his assertions had been incorrect.

seungcheol wasn't sure what to do with his hands (or with his tongue) as he kissed you. he felt you smile against his lips at his whimper, making feel that maybe you were making fun of him. when you pulled away, he feared that maybe he'd been right.

"cheollie, let me show you, yeah? just let me– yeah, like that", you positioned him in a way that would allow you to straddle him as you said this, wrapping his arms around your waist, "okay now let me show you how to kiss me, okay? just open your mouth a bit for me and let me teach you. then you can try it on me."

with that, you leaned into his open mouth, sticking your tongue inside as you played with his own, sucking on it and causing his eyes to roll back, another embarrassing moan leaving his lips.

"do you wanna try it now?", you asked as you pulled away.

he feared his voice would betray him, so he just nodded before leaning in.

seungcheol mimicked your previous actions, though his were a bit sloppier and more desperate. he whined at the way you sighed and pulled at his hair due to the way in which he suckled at your tongue and squeezed his fingers on your hips.

eventually you began to also kiss him back, making it a battle between your tongues all the while seungcheol tried to keep up.

suddenly your hips began to move against his own, making him groan in pleasure. after that, you leaned over him, causing the two of you to lay on the bed as you practically rode him through your clothes.

cheol couldnt help his cries of pleasure at feeling you press against his now swollen member. he didnt want the feeling to end, so he grabbed onto your hips and helped you in your movements, even grinding his own hips upwards to match you.

"cheollie ... do you want more? hmm? wanna feel what its like?", you purred against his ear while pulling off your dress, leaving you in a tiny bralette and thin panties.

"yes! fuck, please. i'll take whatever you wanna give me, just ..."

"shhh, it's okay. i'll give it to you, pretty. you dont have to beg. want you just as bad," you kissed him again before he could reply.

without him noticing, you had thrown off your bra, something which made him completely blank when you pulled away and began talking to him. none of your words made it through his head. he was far too busy looking at the pretty nude girl in front of him. he salivated at every inch of naked skin, wanting nothing more than to lick and kiss at every curve. out of all parts of your body, his eyes were glued to your tits. the fleeting thought of suffocating in them flew through his head, making him shudder.

"cheol?", you grabbed onto his chin and pointed his gaze towards your own, finally breaking him out of his trance.

you giggled at his confused face, causing him to sheepishly apologize for dozing off.

"it's okay, pretty. i'd be distracted too if i could get all these clothes off you ... that's what i was asking actually, can i?" your hands began to teasingly pull at his top, mangling it a bit so it could expose some skin.

his nod was all you needed to rip off his shirt and pull off his pants with urgency that had seungcheol blushing. after getting him fully naked, you threw off your panties and finally sat against him completely bare. the heat of your skin against his was enough to have him burying his face against your neck and begging you once more to please give it to him.

"shhh. i'll give it to you, pretty. i– i'll give you everything," and with that, you sank down on him, throwing your head back at the intrusion.

meanwhile seungcheol was completely gone. the warmth of your body against his had been one thing, but feeling your heat wrap around him was what truly did him in.

it's not like he had stayed a virgin by choice. he had tried to hit it off with many of the girls jeonghan set him up with, but none of them showed any care for him. they'd all expected him to step up and fuck them. even when he would try to shyly explain that he had never done anything sexual before, he'd just be met with scoffs or laughter. but you had walked him through it. you had complimented him and made him feel comfortable. you had made him see pleasure for the first time in his life.

although these thoughts swam through his head as you fucked yourself on his cock, seungcheol's mind was otherwise completely empty. all he could think about was how good you felt and how pretty you sounded as you threw your head back and pulled at his hair. you were just the embodiment of pleasure.

all cares and worries were gone from his brain until the moment in which he felt all his pleasure reach a peak.

he didn't want to be a fucking loser and cum so soon, but you just felt so fucking good, he couldnt help himself. he cried a warning out to you, to which you encouraged him to let go and told him you'd follow him soon.

his orgasm was something he never couldve imagined. but your own orgasm soon trampled that experience. your tightness as you let yourself go while still wrapped around him had him delirious with pleasure. without meaning to, his nails dug into the skin of your pretty hips as he lost consciousness for a few seconds.

unable to fully process it, he felt a sweet peck against his lips before feeling you cuddle against him. he didnt have to think twice before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

"remind me to thank that idiot", he spoke up after some moments.

"who, hannie?", you giggled against his chest.

"yeah. he was onto something when he made me get ready in his room."

"oh? he sent me in here looking for you."

"that fucker", he chuckled, "owe him one."

[bakukags]

infinite (bakugou x reader)

summary: You meet every Friday at the same bridge with a mysterious boy to exchange stories about each other's week. You've never exchanged names, but the connection between the two of you grows stronger—until he fails to show up one day. 

pairing: bakugou x gn! reader

genre: fluffy angst?

word count: 1,103

a/n: I'm back, but a little rusty! please let me know what you think so that I can improve my writing :)

It had happened one Friday. Then the next. And the next.

Suddenly, an entire year had passed, and the unspoken meetings had become permanently engrained in my routine. In my life.

Every Friday at 8pm, I would walk to the bridge and meet him there. We would talk for hours about everyone and everything - turns out being perfect strangers makes for perfect conversation.

But this Friday was different. Maybe it was the gravelly tone of his voice, like the side of an unpaved road. Or maybe it was the dark glitter in his red eyes, hazy yet warm, like wisps of smoke rising from the ashes.

“The stars are infinite.” He finally spoke after several moments of silence, the wind ruffling his hair. A blonde tendril of hair fell over his left eye. I resisted the urge to push it aside, to touch.

“And so is the sky. And the moon.” I let his voice wash over me, before looking back up at the sky, at the stars that spanned the entire universe. The same stars that were brightly reflected in his eyes.

“But we are ever so finite.” I murmured, instinctively finishing his thought. It was a debate we had often - how small we truly were in significance compared to the infinite spanning world.

He nodded, his eyes still on the sky. Then it suddenly hit me. While I knew this man’s stories and had glimpses of his thoughts, I didn’t know something as simple as his name. I opened my mouth to ask, but when I turned, he was already gone.

It’s okay. I could always ask him next Friday.

Except next Friday didn’t come. Or the Friday after. Each day I went to the bridge, hoping, praying, that he would heed our unspoken agreement. Yet he never came.

Finally, one night, I decided this would be the last time I would wait for him. 10 minutes slowly melted into 2 hours, until it was obvious he wasn’t coming and that l was an utter fool. I left, face flushed and arms shivering from the biting cold. My legs moved all on their own, right towards the nearest bar.

“Espresso martini, please.” I murmured, ready to take my mind off of everything.

While those talks may not have meant anything to him, they had meant nearly everything to me. Maybe I had just hoped that he had felt the same; that he had also found relief in talking to a perfect stranger. My mind swirled with memories - his low chuckle, sarcastic dry wit, infuriating smirk.

“Your drink.” The bartender cut off my thoughts, raising an eyebrow as I downed the drink and immediately ordered another. I looked away, a flush already rising on my cheeks, before catching sight of something familiar.

Red eyes.

He sat in a booth, nursing a beer. And though he was surrounded by people, his slouched posture and insistent foot tapping revealed his true feelings. He looked back at me and stiffened. We stared at each other, time seemingly frozen. Then he stood and walked towards me, maintaining eye contact.

When he sat down next to me, I looked away. Some part of me felt betrayed that he was spending his Friday nights like this instead of with me. Another part of me felt relieved that he was alright, that he was well.

“Bakugou Katsuki.” He murmured next to me. His name. I stiffened.

Katsuki? Like the hero Dynamite’s name?

“I should’ve told you sooner but then I got scared. That you’d treat me differently because of my occupation-”

“So you decided to leave?” The words come out sharpen than I intended. I feel rather than see him flinch.

“There were emergencies. I was on call for the past couple of Fridays.”

“And today?”

He let out a deep sigh.

“I was there. Watching you.” He paused, as if waiting for me to interject. I stayed silent. He cleared his throat.

“I thought about how life is so finite. How I’m so finite. But then, there’s you.” He turned to me, trying to look into my eyes. I refused to meet his gaze.

“You made me feel like it doesn’t matter if life is finite, as long as I can spend more time with you. And suddenly, Fridays didn’t feel enough. And that… that scared me.” He stopped for a second, swallowing. I met his eyes, and this time they were burning hot, like red coals being stoked in a fire.

“And then- well, then I thought about how if life is so finite, then you shouldn’t be wasting your time talking to me because there are so many other people that are better than me. People that could make sure you’re happy and safe.”

“Bakugou…” I expected the name to feel foreign on my tongue, but it somehow felt just right.

You do make me happy. Make me feel safe. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words died in my throat. He continued.

“Putting myself in danger to save others is easy, and it’s my job. But being with you? That would be like painting a target on your back. And I could never put you in danger for the sake of my own happiness. Ever.”

I understood. It made sense why he wanted us to remain perfect strangers. This way we could still be in each others lives without the risk of villains finding out, finite together. When things remained finite, it was safer because you knew the boundaries and limitations. You knew that at some point, it would end.

While I understood, I also didn’t agree.

“If we’re finite anyway,” I whispered hoarsely, finally meeting his gaze. “Then screw it. Let’s just do it.”

“But-”

“You make me happy. And you will continue to make me happy. Finitely or infinitely, it doesn't matter to me.” I peered into his eyes, pleading. We stared at each other for a moment, and I knew.

The stars were still in his eyes. And they were infinite.

[dunnerlars]

truth or dare - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: summers are your favorite, but what comes after summer? word count: 2.7k warnings: alcohol mention a/n: and we're pinch hitting! this is for the lovely @writingonleaves for the #the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the absolute kick ass @wyattjohnston! cobbled this together the last couple of days so i hope it's okay!

—

You coveted summers.

Summers were the only time of the year that you got uninterrupted moments with your best friend. Every summer it felt like he became more and more busy, with less time to spend at home so, summer was what you looked forward to and the little time he did manage to carve out and visit.

You’d grown up living just a few streets down from where Mat did, tucked away in a sleepy suburb, moving to the area when you were 10. It’d been hard moving to a new country, even if Canada wasn’t all that far from the States, things were just different. Making new friends and trying to fit in had been overwhelming, most girls already forming their friend groups and shunning outsiders, but when you’d met the boy down the street just a couple of years younger than you, when he came by your house one hazy afternoon asking if you wanted to play street hockey, well- that’d been it.

Despite the small gap in age, you two were inseparable and his friends became yours and it made the move easier- settling in seem inevitable instead of never ending. When he left only a handful of years later for Seattle to play hockey, it felt like everything was falling apart again. The infrequent texts and calls, trying to keep in touch through things like Facebook or Snapchat, was rough. You were 17 and sure Seattle wasn’t all that far but it’s not like you could explain to your parents why you suddenly needed to cross the border to see your best friend who’d helped you keep everything together.

Eventually things got easier. Mat’s friends were still yours, but you made your own. Went off to University, made more friends, moved to Vancouver, and got a big girl job but still summers were spent at home. With Mat.

And so: summers. 

You didn’t actually get the whole summer off, normal jobs were like that, but you saved all of your vacation to make sure you were home for most of it. But, well- you'd quit your job just before the beginning of summer. And you were set to start the new one in early September so now the entire summer was yours.

There’s been something about this summer that’s felt different. Maybe it was the fact that you’ve been hiding something you’re nervous to share with the important people around you or that you were nearing a new decade in life soon, time changing, even if you felt like you were the same. Summer’s spent in the same childhood room with posters covering the wallpaper, fairy lights strung around the ceiling, polaroids tacked on your closet door full of memories and friends.

Mat had come home earlier than planned this summer, knocked out of the playoffs in the 1st round. You’d let him sulk for a week before you dragged him out into the sunshine with promises of ice cream and letting him beat you at tennis and then he’d left again- for Italy and weddings, relaxing far away from responsibilities and you. And then he was back. Back to soak up the last bits of summer before he flew across the country, and back to hockey.

—

It was one of the last days of summer and you were determined to make the most of it.

So, you packed a bag full of towels, sunscreen, books, and a million other ‘just in case’ items, and made the short trek over to Mat’s childhood home.

The front door was slow to open once you knocked, Mat appearing sleep rumpled and hungover.

“I thought you went home early last night,” you frown in greeting, pushing past him and into the house you were just as familiar with as your own.

“I did,” he groans, making his way to the kitchen and starting coffee, “Just tired. Are we really going to the beach this early?”

“It’s noon.”

Mat bangs his head against the cabinets at that and you snort, setting your bags down and hopping onto the counter next to him.

“You leave tomorrow. I leave next week. We don’t have to go, but I thought it would be nice. Everyone’s already down there. Charlotte’s made those sandwiches you like and Justin got you a whole case of only mango White Claws. And Hannah might kill me if we don’t show up and I’ll blame you.” You nudge his thigh with your foot, trying to get his attention as he watches the coffee pour. “Come on. Please.”

Once his gaze catches yours, he stares for a second and nods reluctantly. “Fine. Give me five?”

“Perfect. I’ll finish the coffee. You get dressed.”

You hop down as Mat shuffles out of the kitchen, doctoring his coffee into a to-go cup and putting the rest of the pot in a thermos you dig out of the back of the cabinet. 

As you tuck the milk back onto the shelf of the refrigerator, the sight of the photos littering the doors as you close them has you smiling. You’re in a handful of them, Mat tucked under your arm in a couple of them until he hit a growth spurt a couple of years later. One of you both playing street hockey the first year you’d moved to Coquitlam. Your favorite, though, is stuck under an Islanders magnet on the top corner from Mat’s draft day where he’s giving you a piggyback ride down the hallway of the hotel after a long day of shaking hands, phone calls, and endless press. 

Mat breaks the moment as he comes back to the kitchen, dressed in swim shorts and a long sleeve button down on, buttons completely undone leaving him bare chested. You have to take a deep breath, willing yourself not to say something stupid as he presses up behind you and hooks his chin over your shoulder. “Coffee good?” he asks, peering at the pictures on the fridge too. 

“Yep, uh huh.”

Leaning over you, Mat presses his finger to the picture of you both playing street hockey and taps it with an airy laugh. “Who knew, huh?”

You barely manage to swallow and nod before he’s peeling himself away and grabbing the thermos and to-go cup of coffee, tucking them into his own bag and waiting. 

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, you’re driving. Let’s go.”

—

The drive to the beach is a short 20 minutes, Mat filling the time with his obnoxious singing. Normally it was something you’d give him shit about, but you were thankful he didn’t notice anything off about the lack of ribbing he wasn’t getting, lost in your own thoughts. 

Since you were both late, it was easy to spot everyone down near the shoreline set up near a haphazard volleyball net. Cheers of your names were mixed as you both approached the group, like they hadn’t seen you both in years, not hours since you’d all gone out last night too. 

Mat’s quick to pop open one of his mango White Claws once you reach everyone and you roll your eyes, setting up your towel and undressing down to your swimsuit. You were determined to make the most of the sun, knowing you weren’t going to see it too often soon. Hannah, one of your best friends who you’d met in college, lays out next to you and pulls out her book. 

“Are you excited for the move next week?” She asks curiously, turning to face you.

Hannah was the only one who knew your news, confiding in her when you’d gotten the job offer a couple of months ago. 

“I think so? I’m still so nervous and being so far away from everyone,” you sigh, “But it’s not like I won’t have anyone. And I still haven’t told Mat.”

Hannah’s expression turns funny and you realize why when Mat plops down near you both, “Haven’t told Mat what?” he wonders.

You scramble, looking around and catching Charlotte playing cornhole with Jordan and remember, “Charlotte forgot the sandwiches. She texted me on the drive over. Sorry.”

Groaning, Mat dramatically lays down and feigns upset. “Can’t believe you lied to me. What kind of best friend are you? Have the last 20 years meant nothing?”

“I still can’t believe you two have been friends for that long. I can’t remember the last time I could stand someone longer than a couple hours,” Hannah chimes in and you pinch her thigh with a scowl.

“Best 20 years of my life,” Mat says proudly and you glance up at him through your sunglasses, catching the grin spread wide across his face. 

“Okay ya big sap,” you tease.

The afternoon wears on. You finally finish the book you’re reading and switch with Hannah, reapplying sunscreen and choosing to drink water over alcohol. Mat never strays too far from you, choosing to lay out and play on his phone while you read or fetch new water bottles as yours deplete. It’s sweet and Hannah makes sure to make a big deal of it when he leaves, poking you in the side with a sly grin. 

Eventually you need to cool off and sure enough, Mat’s right behind you and volunteering you both for a game of chicken. It’s best out of 3 and you lose in the last round, Mat losing his footing and you both topple into the water, giggling. You can’t remember the last time you felt so carefree, at ease and not wanting or wishing for anything else. There’s no hurry for either of you to get out, so you both float around, chatting nonsense until Mat catches your ankle as you float past him.

“So,” he starts, and suddenly you know it’s kind of serious. “I know Charlotte brought the sandwiches, the jig is up. What uh- what haven’t you told me? If you don’t wanna tell me that’s fine, I just. Is it something bad? Should I be worried?”

You let yourself fall out of your floating position, trying to find footing in the bottom of the lake but come up empty, not realizing you’re so far out you can’t touch the bottom. Mat’s the nearest thing so you hold onto his shoulder, kicking your feet to stay afloat until he grabs you around the waist to hold you close.

“I, uh. I got a new job,” you tell him, nerves filling you up. 

He’s puzzled and you can tell. “Okay? Why wouldn’t you wanna tell me that? That’s awesome. What is it?”

“It’s at a publishing house in Manhattan,” you take a deep breath, starting the spiel you’d been practicing for when you finally told him. “And I don’t know, I’ve been feeling a little weird about it? I didn’t want you to think I was following you or something but like, obviously it’s benn my dream job and I know you know that but-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You got a job in New York? That’s amazing, holy shit!” Mat pulls you to his front, squeezing you tight and relief floods you as wrap your arms around his neck. 

For whatever reason, this was not how you pictured this going. You knew Mat- he didn’t like feeling stifled and that’s what you thought this decision felt like it might be to him, like you were encroaching on something that was his. 

“Really?”

Mat pulls away, searching your face in confusion. “Yeah, of course. This is gonna fucking sick. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

“Well, I-”

You’re interrupted as Hannah yells at the two of you from the shore, “Hey, we’re gonna start grilling. Justin says you need to help, Mat!”

“Ugh. Fine!”

You both swim to shore and before you part, Mat grabs your wrist. “Don’t think I’m done with this. I have questions,” he tells you, waiting for you to nod before letting go.

Settling back on your towel, you turn towards Hannah who you can feel burning holes into your side. 

“Spit it out.”

“What was that all about? You two looked pretty cozy out there,” she teases. 

You shrug, still not sure how you’re feeling. “I told him about the job, moving, all of it. He was excited but then I think he realized I’d been keeping it from him and he might be upset? I can’t tell.”

Hannah glances over at the grill and you follow her gaze, both of you watching Mat and Justin goof off and she shrugs at you. “Maybe he’s forgotten,” she offers and you can’t help the laugh that passes your lips.

“Fat chance.”

—

Everyone gathers together to eat and discuss plans for after the summer and you’re pointedly quiet, still not quite ready to share your news with everyone. Hannah’s known and now Mat knew and that felt like enough. You still had a week, it would be fine. They all give Mat shit for going back all the way across the country and you’re thankful he doesn’t say anything, just gives it right back and tells everybody they’re welcome to visit. 

Once the weather starts to cool, everyone begins packing up. You’re still sat on your towel, wrapped in an old hoodie of Mat’s he’d grabbed you from the car earlier and Hannah comes to sit beside you, placing her head on your shoulder.

“Gonna miss you, ya know,” she tells you quietly. 

It’s hard, trying to hold the tears that are threatening to fall and you sniffle. “I know. God, we have a week left. Stop making me emotional and go home,” you tell her, voice wet and you push her away lightly. 

She clambers up, dusting the sand off her ass and wipes at her eyes. “Dinner tomorrow?”

“Obviously.”

She salutes you and you watch her make the trek back to the parking lot behind the beach before turning to find Mat. You find him easily enough, hugging a couple of friends goodbye and slapping them on the back. It’s easy for your mind to wander to when the time will come and you’ll all be doing different things, too busy to come together for the summers. Time filled with new families and friends.

Eventually, Mat makes his way back down to the beach and packs up what little is left: the rest of his White Claws and the couple of chairs you’d eventually brought down later in the day. He packs up the car but you’re not quite ready to leave, waiting for the sun to set. 

Mat’s quiet when he sits beside you, picking at the corner of the towel, and you nudge his arm with yours. “I’m sorry for not saying something sooner about moving, I-”

He cuts you off, shaking his head. “No, you don’t need to apologize.”

There’s a pause, and you can see him trying to gather the thoughts he’s been holding onto since you told him the news a few hours ago. 

“I think I just wish you’d felt like you could’ve told me,” he starts. “I didn’t even know you were looking at jobs out there. Like, we’d talked about it before years ago- you moving out there, but it always kind of seemed like a joke? And I guess it was, for a while anyway. But at some point I thought maybe you’d actually come out there and we could, I don’t know.” Mat shakes his head and you sigh, glancing towards the horizon of the setting sun and wonder if you’ve gotten something wrong here. 

He continues, cutting his gaze towards you. “I guess I just thought at some point you’d actually make the move for real and we could finally try something.”

And oh.

Mat looks serious and you suddenly feel warm all over despite the chill taking over, the breeze from the water rushing over you and giving you goosebumps.

“Mat…”

“Was I crazy to think that?” He asks, earnest.

You shake your head quickly, hands sliding out from the sweater sleeves and you reach for him, intertwining your fingers. “No. Not crazy.”

Sitting there, you both watch the sun finally set in the sky, the beach awash in a hazy blue glow and Mat turns to you.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you answer without hesitation. 

“Kiss me.”

The dare catches you off guard but Mat’s grinning, his smile stretched wide across his face and you lunge forward and press a kiss to his smiling lips.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

hey so it's exactly 10 days after what i added to @cherrychapsticksteve's post, and it hasn't left my brain SO! Murphy, this is for you. i hope enjoy this full version!!!

pairing: steddie | word count: 7,536 | rated: T

-🎸-

Eddie's chest heaves as he sprints farther into the woods.

It’s not the first (and certainly won’t be the last) time he runs from Hawkins’ finest. This time, Hopper and Callahan had busted him after he ran a stop sign (it wasn’t his fault, okay? He had to change the tape and didn’t see the sign or the patrol car stopped at the damn cross street).

The ‘failure to obey traffic signs’ was the least of his problems though, not after his damn lunchbox dropped out of the van when they asked demanded he “Take a step out here, Munson.”, and the last crumbs of the stock he’d gotten from Rick the week before last spilling out at Hopper’s feet.

They get him in cuffs, of course, but the second they turn their backs on him, he fucking books it.

Hands cuffed behind him, wallet chain jangling around his hip in time with the zipper of his jacket hitting the lowest button of his vest, both officers are wheezing way too soon after he starts playing getaway. He twists and spins out of the way of their grasps, but Callahan gets a second wind and nearly catches him, so he bolts; Tears off past his van and into the woods.

He's got some sense of where he's going, they busted him on Cornwallis and it should be a clear cut through the forest past Loch Nora and to the park, but it's even darker as he gets under the treeline. The fading twilight blocked out by the canopy above him.

Still, he took off into the woods on the west side of the street so as long as he keeps going straight, he'll be fine. 

Joke's on him though, nothing about him has been straight since before he came to live with Wayne (since he was born if what his science teacher Mr. Clarke once told him is to be believed), so it's no fuckin' wonder that he's gotten off course.

He dismisses it at first, the gradual incline he's following at more of a jog than a sprint now, but when he hears sirens go off way too close and he finds himself crashing into a meticulously trimmed backyard, it makes sense.

What doesn't make sense is why of all the gallivanting through the woods he'd just done, over and under fallen logs, rocks, through bushes and thickets, that his feet betray him on the half inch concrete lip of patio he hadn't yet slowed himself enough to avoid altogether.

The toe of his sneaker clips the very corner, his feet try to right themselves, but he's already hurtling toward this person's inground pool. 

In the split second he's falling, Eddie's brain does three things almost simultaneously: 1) realizes that whoever's house this is, there's only one light on. an upstairs window that must be a bedroom. Good. Maybe then he can pick himself up after this what-would-have-been super embarrassing fall and get the fuck back out of their yard without them noticing.

2) It has enough sense to turn his body to the left to take the fall onto the concrete on his shoulder instead of his face, though it means he'll definitely be rolling into the pool now. Damn. 

And 3) a simple thought of 'Aw, fuck.'

What his brain didn't account for was the edge of the pool. And that it should have considered its boney housing's downward momentum in the fall.

His temple collides with the edge where plastic meets stone, and Eddie Munson, freshly concussed and all but dead to the world, falls into the water.

-🍦-

The night Steve Harrington officially meets Eddie Munson is like every other.

At home, alone, waiting for it to be a reasonable time to go to bed. 

He’s leaning his desk chair back on two legs, his feet propped up on his mattress, flipping through the new June '85 edition of Vogue that came in the mail that day addressed to Linda Harrington.

Halfway through reading about Eric Stoltz in that new movie Mask (and seriously debating somehow guilting his parents into sending him one of these watches for a late graduation gift because shit that's a nice watch), he hears a splash from outside his window.

The sound makes him jump from how unexpected it is, and he would've for sure tumbled ass backwards off his chair if the wall hadn't been behind him.

He jumps up and yanks open his blinds to look out at the pool below.

There are fresh ripples weaving across the normally still top, and a shadow of something bubbling up from the bottom.

His guts twist up immediately; of course, it could be just some stupid deer, but it could also be any number of insane hell creatures, one of which had once used his pool as it's front door before.

"Shitshitshitshit," Steve snatches up his bat from under the bed and launches himself out his room and down the stairs in record time.

By the time he gets to the edge of the pool, the ripples have dispersed significantly, and the..whatever it is.. at the bottom is releasing bubbles slower than ever.

It takes about a second more for him to parse out the very obviously human shape crumpled under the water and--is that blood?

Steve dives into the water directly across from the bright red smear on the plastic lining.

His eyes burn with the chemicals, all he makes out of the person is a pale face and dark hair.

He hooks an arm under theirs and across their chest, and pushes up from the bottom.

Steve finds a foothold in the shallows and powers over to the stairs as fast as he can, pulling the limp man up onto the concrete.

He gets to work on them immediately, checking for a pulse, checking for breath..nothing.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck!" Steve starts compressions on his chest, counting in his head before sucking in a deep breath, pinching the guy’s nose shut, and sealing his mouth onto the blue lips below him.

Nothing.

"C'mon Munson," Steve starts counting compressions again. "Don't do this to me, man." It surprises him that this is when his brain pairs the pale features and dark denim to Hawkins' Super-Senior, but it's him alright. The vest is a giveaway, though he definitely looks like a completely different person without his bangs hanging over his forehead, or that dumbass grin he has when he's going on some tirade at lunch.

Steve closes his lips over Eddie's once again and this time, it works.

Eddie pitches forward, spewing chunky water all over the ground in front of him.

Steve supports his back as he does, "Shit, man, let it out, let it out." He looks down then, finally realizing Eddie's arms have been completely incapacitated by a pair of cuffs this whole time. 

His breaths are ragged, gagging while he takes in shaky breaths.

He continues to pat Eddie's back, smacking his palm over some demon-looking thing on the back panel of his vest.

"Breathe, Eddie, you got it." The older boy's dazed gaze turns to him then, "You back with me?"

"Harrington?" it comes out a wheeze.

“Hey Munson, you okay?”

Eddie looks around at Steve’s yard, to the pool, “Yeah I—Yeah..” he looks back at Steve, “What happened?”

“You fell into my pool, dude.” he chuckles, “I pulled you out and you weren’t breathing.”

“…huh.”

That pulls another snort out of him. “Yeah, ‘Huh.’.”

Eddie looks off into the woods, then back to his face. “And what happened before that?”

Steve pulls lightly on the cuffs. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“I don’t–I don’t know what..” he glances around, panicked, “I don’t know why I’m in cuffs, I–”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay man. You’re okay.” Steve rubs gently over the same spot he’d been patting, “Let’s get you inside, alright? Get some food maybe?”

Eddie takes a couple more breaths then nods, “Yeah…yeah okay, Harrington.”

He leads Eddie inside after he’s calmed down a bit more, sitting him down on one of the chairs at the breakfast nook and dashing quickly to the laundry room off the kitchen for a towel.

"Eddie, hey, y'gotta stay awake." he says, wrapping him up and giving him a light shake, "I'm gonna make you something to eat soon, but I wanna get you outta your cuffs first. Can you tell me how to get them off?"

"Yea-yeah," Eddie smacks his lips dryly, thinking hard, "Do you have a bobby pin?"

Steve studies him while he quickly searches his brain for where the last time he might've seen one. He's still dazed, still out of it (which is fair, honestly, he almost died after all), and is starting to shiver despite the towel.

He goes to the sink and pours a glass of water. "I think my mom has some. Let me help you drink some of this, and we’ll get you upstairs, okay?" he says, turning back to Eddie and keeping his voice soft, as if he'd scare him off if he spoke any louder.

Eddie's face scrunches in confusion, so he continues, "I’ll get you out of those cuffs and into the shower so you can warm up."

He watches Eddie’s expression morph as he registers what was said to him. His eyes go hooded, his cheeks tinge pink, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "Y'wanna get me naked, big boy?"

Steve rolls his eyes, his own cheeks prickling with heat. Eddie's hot okay? Objectively. He doesn't have to be into guys to know that. And flirting is flirting.  Sue him. "Shut up man," he laughs.

He holds the glass to Eddie’s lips and lets him drink as much as he wants, then sets the glass down on the table. He pulls gently on Eddie’s bicep, hooking an arm around the other man's waist, under an arm, and when he finally feels like he's got a good enough hold on him, they head to the steps.

They make their way up the stairs slowly, Eddie mumbling to himself the whole way. Steve hears a grumbled "Naked..", something that sounds like "..Gotta be dreamin',", and his own name, drawn out as if in disbelief "Steeeve Harrington...".

Finally, they make it to the master bedroom and Steve deposits Eddie on the edge of the bed. He immediately falls over onto his right side.

"Ow! Shit.. that fuckin' sucks."

"Your shoulder?" Steve asks, grabbing up a pin from his mother's vanity and turning back to the still damp man on the bed.

"Yeah, I–I must've fallen onto it before I went in." Eddie reasons, "Also, my head hurts."

"I bet," Steve nods, climbing up behind Eddie, "Now, you gotta tell me what to do here, man." he turns the cuffs slightly where he can see the little keyhole. "I've never picked the lock on a pair of cuffs."

"Ya don't say..'' he drawls sarcastically, "Just put the pin in my hand and I'll do it.”

Steve watches Eddie's fingers fiddle with the bobby pin; twisting it every which way while he feels out which side is which, which end of it he wants, prying it open with only a couple fingers, twisting into his hair, the pads of them ghosting along his lips, how they might feel opening him u--

Steve jumps up off the bed, causing Eddie to complain about the movement fucking up his concentration or something.

He ignores him, heading into the ensuite to start the shower.

Holy shit.

What in the actual fuck was that? He shakes his head, hard, willing his brain not to think those thoughts again. He is not gay or anything, everyone has thoughts like that sometimes. Tommy said so.

After starting the water and grabbing a new towel from under the counter, Steve takes a breath and steps back out into the bedroom.

He lets the breath out in relief when he sees Eddie's hands separate from the other, one palm pressed to the left side of his face and his other hanging loosely in front of him off the edge of the bed.

His soggy white Reeboks have also joined him on the bed, feet dangerously close to the pillow.

"Up n’ at 'em, Munson, gotta get you cleaned up." Steve calls, relishing briefly in making Eddie jump in surprise. "Can you get up on your own?"

Eddie groans, but slowly lets his feet drop back down to the floor.

Steve is back on Eddie's side of the bed before he's upright, offering a hand.

His open palm is puzzled at for a few long seconds, then Eddie places his hand in Steve's.

"Okay, up we go," he pulls Eddie to his feet, singing his arm around the other man's waist again and pulling Eddie's arm over his shoulders.

"Dizzy." Eddie complains.

"I know, I know," he soothes in return, "It's this way."

They shuffle into the bathroom and Steve lowers Eddie onto the closed lid of the toilet.

"We gotta get you out of your wet clothes, okay Eds?" The nickname slips through his teeth, but Eddie doesn't seem to mind it, nodding slowly.

Steve kneels in front of him, "Shoes first. Can you get your jacket and vest off for me?"

“Pushy, pushy,” Eddie teases, starting to pull his jacket off, “You really wanna get me naked, don’t you.” 

“Oh yeah. I am just itching for ‘pale, scrawny asshole’.” Steve deadpans in return, unlacing Eddie’s sopping sneakers and placing them in front of the counter.

“Oh now you wanna see my asshole? Buy a guy dinner first, Stevie.”

Steve tries to ignore the soupy feeling in his stomach at the nickname. It’s not even a new one, Tommy’s called him that before too and it never made his guts all squirmy like this.

It’s gotta just be because he and Eddie aren’t friends like he and Tommy had been.

That’s all.

But that’s not all, is it? His brain betrays him again, taking only half a second to imagine going on a date with Eddie, taking him to dinner, a movie, whatever. Taking him home, giving him a kiss goodnight.

The scenario is imagined, but the swirling feeling in his stomach is all too real.

He’s felt this before, the nerves and excitement of taking out a girl he really likes, getting to talk to her, get to know her, the possibility of getting to kiss her (and maybe more) at the end of the night.

But now it’s Eddie Fucking Munson that his gut’s all soupy for. Does he like Eddie? Does he want to Date him?

Steve feels his face heat up, his knees feel wobbly despite being on stable ground, his stomach erupts in butterflies—aw fuck. He likes Eddie. 

“Be careful with this, Harrington, It’s worth more than you’ll ever know.” Miraculously, Eddie managed to get his jacket off with the vest still wrapped around it. He passes the bundle gingerly over to Steve, like it's breakable.

He looks down at the crumpled clothing in his hands; he can see a couple patches that are hand-sewn into the denim, a broken zipper on one of the sleeves of Eddie’s jacket that has been pinned shut, a single button worn shinier than the rest. He believes him.

“I’ll take care of it, promise.” Steve says, placing the bundle up next to the sink gently. “Now, do you need help with the rest?”

Eddie immediately looks like he’s going to say no, but he seems to think better of it. “Uhm, can you help with these?”, he pats his legs, “I’d do it myself, but they’re gonna be a bitch to get off since they’re all wet and I’m still dizzy and don’t really want to bend over to pull off the bottoms but–y’know what just forget it, I’ll—”

Steve interrupts his rambling, “Eddie, it’s fine! I offered, didn't I? Help me out?” he gestures to Eddie’s zipper with his chin and starts to pull at the legs of Eddie’s skinny jeans. “I don’t get it man, why squeeze into these–”

The jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle pulls his focus, his eyes darting up to catch a flash of the buckle being undone. He averts his eyes, but a split second later, his brain registers what he’d seen and his gaze snaps back to it.

“Handcuff buckle? Really?”

“Don’t diss the buckle, Stevie,” Eddie chides, working the buckle loose. It continues to jingle as he works at it.

“How good of a buckle can it be if you can’t even get it undone?” Steve says, getting the second leg of Eddie’s jeans pulled down under his heel.

“It keeps me virtuous.” Eddie grits out, then huffs out a “Finally..” as the mini handcuffs fall open.

It was a bad moment to be done with what he was doing. Because Steve looks up just as Eddie unbuttons his fly and pulls the zipper down.

Steve shoots up off the floor, “Need some help standing up?” He asks, trying to cover for his minor freak-out. Eddie didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie takes his hand and pulls himself up, “Don’t let me fall okay? I’m still feelin’ kinda…loopy.”

“Sure, man.”

So Steve stands there, gaze averted politely, as Eddie shimmies his jeans off and pulls his shirt off over his head.

He leaves him to it after that, pointing out the shampoo and soap, where he’d hung the new towel for him, and escapes to go find Eddie some new clothes.

He fishes a pair of black sweats out from one of his drawers, a pair that had been too small for him since sophomore year, and a plain black undershirt. He grabs up his personal favorite hoodie too, a Hawkins High Swim one, and a pair of thick fuzzy Christmas socks Mrs. Henderson had given him this past year.

After agonizing over whether or not to grab a pair of boxers too (he does, a new pair from the back of his top drawer), Steve wanders back into the master bathroom and deposits the pile on Eddie’s vacated seat.

The frosted glass door and added steam cloud Eddie’s form, but Steve can see the vague outline of him, standing just at the edge of where the water must be falling.

“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie says softly.

It’s after he’s gathered up Eddie’s chlorine scented clothes that he notices, thinking belatedly to grab the discarded towel off the bed on his way back downstairs, but when he turns to grab it, he’s stopped short by a darkening stain puddled up on one end.

Right where Eddie’s head had been.

It all clicks. The smear of blood on the edge of the pool, Eddie’s complaints of his head hurting, of feeling dizzy and lightheaded.. And now Steve’s left him standing on his own in a hot-ass shower?!

He’s not sure how he heard it, but there’s a soft “Steve?” called out from the bathroom before a loud thump echoes out into the bedroom. 

-🎸-

At first, the shower felt fan-fucking-tastic, but not long after stepping under the hot, wonderfully pressured stream, he’d started feeling (even) more light headed.

He takes a deep breath, and leans on one hand at the back of the shower out of the spray while his head clears enough.

Operating in much the same way through the rest of the shower, he scrubs himself down, washing the chlorine from his skin and hair, wincing slightly when he stretches his shoulder the wrong way and when he scrubs over his right temple. There’s a knot there. Great.

He continues through the motions, taking as deep of breaths as he can, but rinsing the shampoo out of his hair is what does it. His arm stretched up, the more concentrated steam, the tilting back of his head…he bobbles forward out of the stream, hand on the wall again.

Where the hell is Steve? He’s gotta get out of here, gotta turn off the shower..somehow? Eddie’s vision blurs. Fuck.

“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.” Steve says, back in the room as if summoned by Eddie’s desperate thoughts.

‘C’mon coward, ask him for help! He’s right outside the door!’

“‘Kay.”

‘No! Damnit!’ He’ll be fine, he just needs to breathe again, needs to sit down..

“Steve?”

Then he’s out (again).

-

When he comes to (again), he’s back on the bed, under the covers, and still kinda damp. And dressed.

“What the fuck?”

The bedroom door opens then, and he tries to sit up. Shit, why is he so sore?

He blinks away the fuzziness in his eyes only to see Steve goddamn Harrington hovering over him.

Steve pushes him back down onto the pillows. “Oh no nono you don’t. You stay right there.” he chastises.

“What the fuck, what happe—” The memories of the last couple hours roll over him all at once, along with heavy mortification that presses him further into the pillows. He covers his face with his hands, “Jesus H. Christ..did I pass out in the shower?”

“I’m sorry Eddie,” 

“Sorry for what? That I’m a klutz?�� he mumbles out from under his palms. “Don’t think that’s your fault, Harrington.”

“You’re not a klutz, dumbass, but you do probably have a concussion…” Steve snarks back, and Eddie feels the mattress sink beside him, “Though I don’t know, maybe you always pass out in the shower?” 

Eddie can’t help but laugh. He scrubs his face a couple more times, then drops his hands “Only in the showers of my own personal saviors.”

He swears Steve’s face tinges pink at that, “Well aren’t I a lucky guy.”

“Well, seeing as how I’m dressed, and last time I remember, I wasn’t..” Steve’s face is blazing red now. “I think you must be, if you got a look at the goods.”

He waggles his eyebrows teasingly when Steve glances up at him, “Shut up man, I didn’t look at your junk any more than I had to.”

Eddie sputters at that, “How much looking is in your definition of ‘had to’?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “You passed out in my shower man, I had to get you out didn’t I? And I’m not about to leave you cold and wet so..I wrapped you up in a towel and got you up here.” he gestures to the bed, “Got you dressed and under the covers so you could sleep somewhat comfy while I made you something to eat.”

Eddie continues to eye him suspiciously, “So you got into my pants and then got them on me? That seems backwards…and sounds kinda fishy, Steven.”

“Oh my god..” Steve throws his head back in exasperation and scrubs his own face with his hands. “I got your pants on while you were still wrapped up in the towel, asshole, now do you want something to eat or not?”

“Wow…the kiss of life, a personal scrubdown (“I didn’t scrub you down!”), and now I get breakfast in bed? If I’m dreamin’, don’t wake me up.”

“Your dreams include getting concussed and passing out?”

Eddie shrugs, “To be fair, there’s usually less clothes and more making out, but I’m holding out hope.” He waggles his eyebrows again and Steve’s face flushes red, scoffing lightly 

“Don’t hold your breath.”

He feigns being shot in the chest, hamming it up and falling limp further into the pillows, “You wound me Steven, am I to be laid up for the rest of my days? Does his royal highness not believe in true love’s kiss?”

“I’ve already kissed you once, dumbass, Is that not enough for you?”

“It musn’t be, for my head and heart still ache!” he continues to bemoan, flailing a hand to his forehead. He’s honestly not quite sure why he’s still keeping up with the bit, painfully straight jocks like Steve don’t normally take well to his dramatics, and he’s not keen on getting punched right now.

But Steve doesn’t punch him. He laughs. 

He laughs and says “How ‘bout you eat something first, and if your head and heart still ache after that, I’ll give you a smooch.” Steve says, standing from the edge of the bed.

Eddie gawks at him, but allows himself to be helped up after his stomach growls loudly not a second later.

Steve walks down the stairs in front of him half-sideways in case he decides to pass out again, then helps him up onto a stool at the Harrington’s long kitchen island.

“I made eggs and toast, but I can get you something else if you like?”

Eddie’s stomach rolls at the thought of eggs, “Just toast, thanks.”

Steve nods, and passes over a plate with plain buttered toast stacked at least a half a loaf tall and a new glass of water. He takes a slice gratefully and munches on it slowly.

Suddenly, something clicks. “Wait, rewind, concussed? You think I might have a concussion?”

“You hit your head didn’t you?” he asks, rounding the counter with a plate of his own and perching on the stool next to him.

“Well yeah, but concussion?”

Steve shrugs, “I mean, I’m not 100 percent sure, but you definitely hit it pretty hard,” he gently pushes the hairs of Eddie’s right temple up and back, touching the fingers of his other hand to the knot he’d felt in the shower earlier.

“Sorry,” he says when Eddie winces, “There was a cut there too, but it wasn’t that deep so I cleaned it up and used a couple butterfly strips on it. Definitely looked worse than it was, but you said you didn’t remember what happened, that your head hurts, you’re dizzy, and I’m guessing the thought of eggs made you nauseous didn’t they?”

Eddie blinks at him once, twice, “I think I have a concussion.”

Steve barks out a laugh, tossing his head back with it. He looks back down at Eddie, still grinning, and time seems to freeze for a long moment.

Steve Harrington’s always been attractive, okay? And Eddie is only a man. The soft swoop of Steve’s hair, messy and flatter than he’s ever seen it in any normal circumstance, but it still looks good, the moles he can see scattered across his neck and arms and legs that Eddie’s always seen a big ol’ ‘KISS HERE’ over each, the relatively new softer smile he’d seen after Hargrove showed up and King Steve was tossed from his throne..

Eddie’s been so gone on Steve for so long already, and now he’s literally saved his life.

He never thought he’d ever want to be the damsel in distress, but now is, and he’s here, and Steve Harrington is his knight in shining armor.

It’s not just the possible concussion making his head swirl.

“Thanks, Steve.” he says, coming back to the present again–was he always this close? Do not look at his lips, Munson, stay focused. “Never thought this’d be how I’d ever be in your house though.”

Steve’s eyes flash to somewhere below his nose (‘Wait.. did he just–’), then he takes his hand away, dropping it back to his lap from where it was all but wrapped around the back of his skull. He didn’t even register that Steve was still holding him (‘Fuck!’).

“How d’ya think you’d ever be here then?” he asks, taking a large bite of runny egg.

“Oh y’know me, peddler of wares for any manner of frivolities my liege may hold.” He attempts to give Steve a bow, but gets dizzy almost as soon as his head tips forward.

Steve’s hands reach out to steady him, but drop when Eddie sits back up. “Yeah I didn’t get any of that.”

“Party favors, Steve-o, pills, ganja..all that fun stuff.” Eddie continues on at Steve’s understanding expression, “That’s what got me cuffed earlier.”

“Ah, so you do remember.”

“For the most part. They wouldn’t’ve even pulled me over if my tape hadn’t ended. I was trying to swap it out and ran a stop sign.”

Steve snorts, “What, did you try to bribe them with drugs?”

“I wish; that'd’ve been a much better story,” Eddie laughs, taking another bite of toast, “My stash fell out at Hopper’s feet when I got outta the van.”

Steve winces, “Bad break, dude. So what, you just decided to run? Why not before they cuffed you?”

“I dunno, man, I just bolted into the trees. Those old men couldn’t’ve caught me if they tried.”

“So you got pulled over, got cuffed for having drugs in your car, evaded capture by running through the woods in the dark, fell into my pool shoulder first,”

“Well I rolled into it, actually. I tripped on your patio, couldn’t catch myself on my hands, obviously, so I fell onto my shoulder first and kinda skidded slash rolled into the pool. Must’ve hit my head then too.”

Steve winces again, “That’s why the “Sorry” earlier.. I saw that blood on the lining and I didn’t even check where you could be bleeding.” He shakes his head in disappointment, “I shouldn’t’ve put you into the shower like that, it’s not good for you. And I know my way around a head injury.” Steve mutters.

“Sportsball will do that to you.” Eddie nods, grabbing a second slice of toast.

“It wasn’t basket–” he sighs, “Nevermind, is there someone you need to call or anything?”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. “Trying to be rid of me already, Harrington?”

Steve waves him off, “Nah. Your clothes are still in the dryer.” he says, standing up and passing around the island to the far counter where a phone book lays open. He picks it up and brings it back to Eddie, “I looked up Munson in case someone would be wondering where you are, but the only Munson here didn’t answer. A Wayne Munson?”

“My uncle,” Eddie explains, “He wouldn’t, not at this time of day. He’s already at the plant for the night.”

“Ah.”

“You can just give me a ride home, we stashed a key on the porch.” he tries to stand, pushing through the dizziness.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, Munson. That’s an order.”

Eddie sinks back into his seat.

“Concussions are tricky, you know; You have to check on the person periodically while they sleep to make sure they’re not getting worse. If there’s not going to be anyone at home with you, you’d better stay here.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Eddie gives him a two fingered salute, and relishes in the feeling of making Steve smile again. 

-🍦-

It was easier than he thought it'd be to convince Eddie to get back to bed, this time in the guest room across from Steve’s own bedroom.

He’d thought the surprisingly charming weirdo (he was apparently already smitten with) would fight him on it, but he’d followed him back upstairs without complaint after a third slice of toast, though he had gotten a bit woozy about 2/3rds of the way back up.

“What, no smooch? I have to settle for common drugs?” Eddie grumbles as Steve shakes a couple Tylenol into his palm. Steve just rolls his eyes, ignoring him (and the giant swoop of his stomach), “I’ll be up for a little while longer, I have to get your shit outta the dryer and get ready for work tomorrow, so I’ll wake you up before I go to bed and wake you up again in the middle of the night.”

Eddie takes the offered glass of water from him, gulping down the pain meds, “I’m gonna be super grouchy at you, you know.”

Steve smirks at him, “I know, but it’s gotta be done.” He takes back the glass and sets it on the nightstand. 

Eddie’d nodded through a long cracking yawn, smiled, then murmured a light “G’night Stevie.” that made Steve’s heart squeeze.

“‘Night Eds, I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Steve, however, did not get to sleep as easily, lying awake in his room after waking Eddie the first time. 

He set his watch to wake him in three hours to check on Eddie again, and he’d already wasted a good half of it staring at his ceiling and thinking in circles about everything that had happened, everything he’d felt and thought about the town freak sleeping across the hall.

He’d started with gathering all of it up and trying to cram it away to some corner of his head and leave it there, lock it away from even himself, but to no avail. The…he supposed you could call them feelings...for Eddie had grown much too big already for any one of the lock boxes in the back of his brain.

Then he’d tried to rationalize them again like he had at first. Tommy had told him, very confidently, that everyone has gay thoughts sometimes, it’s normal to realize when a guy is just objectively attractive. To realize you’d totally hit that if you had the chance. 

Harrison Ford was the first person Steve’d brought up during that conversation, and Tommy agreed. So that was it, Eddie Munson was just the same as Harrison Ford. He’d definitely sleep with Eddie if there was ever a chance.

And was there? There’d always been rumors about Munson, at least since Steve’d started at Hawkins High, maybe even before, but were they true? How would he even ask that? “Hey Eddie, heard you might be..y’know..into guys and I think I might be too. Do you maybe wanna do something about that? Together?”

Yeah. Not likely.

And Eddie hasn’t looked at him any different than he ever had before, at least not in the handful of times he’s caught the older teen looking at him across the cafeteria or from down the hall.

Should he just..start flirting and hope for the best? What if he doesn’t like it and decks him for it?

Steve scrubs his face again, this is so much easier with girls.

…And that’s another thing, what about girls? He still likes girls. A lot, actually. So is he even allowed to like Eddie? He reasons it’s at least possible to because he does like Eddie. Wants to date him too, but that’s definitely not allowed.

He’s no closer to figuring out what he’s supposed to do when his watch beeps to life again.

Sighing, he throws his covers off, stands up, and sneaks across the hall to Eddie’s room.

“Eddie..hey! Eddie!” Steve whispers, gently shaking him awake. Eddie’s bangs are sticking straight out from his forehead, the rest of his hair fanned out in a mess below his head, his morning breath already starting to form…how can this be so damn attractive?

“Mmm…Hm?” Eddie’s eyes squint against the low light filtering in from the hallway, “Steve?”

“Hey, how are you feeling? Is your head feeling better?”

Eddie sinks back onto his pillow and lets his eyes fall shut again. “Uhm, it hurts, but less than it did earlier.”

“Good, that’s good.” A split moment of bravery comes over him then. “How about your heart?”

“Still aches,” He slurs sleepily in response.

Steve’s bravery and Eddie’s wakefulness fade with each second, so before they’re both gone, Steve leans forward and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “See you in the morning, Eds.”

-🎸-

When Eddie wakes up the final time the next morning, it’s on his own and from an amazing dream involving an epic battle, injuries, and a healing kiss pressed to his forehead by a soft-haired paladin.

He sits up, already significantly less dizzy than he’d been last night, and chugs down the glass of water Steve must’ve left last time he was up here. 

He gets dressed slowly, grabbing his freshly de-chlorinated Iron Maiden tee and trusty black jeans from the neatly folded pile on the nightstand. 

He’s wondering where his jacket and vest are when the sweet smell of breakfast hits him, “Oh, fuck yeah,” he says aloud to himself like a loser.

Eddie pulls on his socks, mismatched but bundled together anyhow, and steps out into the hall.

Steve’s voice filters up the stairs with a mouthwatering buttermilk smell, “Good morning Mr. Munson, I’m sorry if I woke you.”

What time is it anyway? Eddie winces internally on Steve’s behalf if it’s anytime past 8. 

“My name is Steve Harrington, sir, and I—” Steve sighs, “Yes sir, that Harrington.”

Eddie actually winces this time, halfway down the stairs now.

“No, no no, of course not, no trouble at all Mr. Munson, I’m calling because of Eddie.”

Oof, nope, that’s not gonna help ya, Stevie.

“I didn’t—no, not complaining about—no, he got hurt an–”

Eddie can hear Wayne’s voice through the phone now, even from where he’s stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“I think he might have a concussion and—no, no! I wanted to let you know so you can—”

He decides to save Steve from the Wrath of Wayne and walks around the corner into the kitchen. He holds his hand out for the receiver, and Steve gratefully passes it over, turning back to his waffle maker (a whole-ass waffle maker! Lucky sonofabitch…).

“--And if you don’ tell me righ’ this minute how he got hurt–”

“Calm down, old man, I’m fine. Though I think Steve would’ve denied me waffles if you went on any longer.”

“Theodore Munson, you tell me what’s goin’ on right this second.”

“Whoa! Full name privileges are revoked for you,” He jokes, unable to resist riling up his uncle more. He pulls the cord around the corner and back into the hall, “Wayne, seriously, I’m fine. I just fell into Harrington’s pool a little. No big deal.”

“No big deal huh? Why’n the hell were you concussed in Loch Nora?”

“It’s a long story, but short version is I fell into Harrington’s pool and smacked my head. Steve made sure I was okay, and,” he cringes, “and Hopper might show up on our doorstep in the next couple hours.”

Wayne heaves a long sigh, “Goddammit, boy.”

“It’s all good, I’ll be home soon. I’m gonna pilfer some breakfast and get Steve to drive me home.”

“Wait, wha’happened t’yer van?”

“Okay, bye Wayne! See you soon!”

“Theodore Wayn—”

He breathes a sigh of relief when the phone is back on its cradle.

“Your uncle is scary, man.”

Eddie turns back to Steve’s voice, sitting on the same stool he did last night. Steve passes him a plate with two large golden brown waffles.

“Nah, he’s a big softy. He just worries ‘bout me.” he picks up his fork, digging into the fluffy waffles. They are unfairly good. “Thanks for breakfast, Steve, this is great!”

“You’re welcome man, y’want strawberries?”

They eat quickly, it was later than Eddie thought and Steve has the opening shift at his new-ish job at Starcourt’s ice cream parlor.

“Oh, um.. Ice cream’s good, right?”

Steve grimaces, “I feel like it’ll be very not good after this summer. Plus I have a dumb uniform I have to wear.” he gestures to the backpack he’d grabbed on their way out and tossed in the backseat.

They’re in Steve’s BMW now; his shoes and vest are still kinda damp and he’s gonna have to re-condition his leather jacket after the damn chlorine got to it, but that’s a problem for Future Eddie. “No college for you then? I honestly figured you’d be outta here as soon as you walked across that stage.” 

“I uh, didn’t get in.” Steve says, “Dad decided I should get a job at Scoops to teach me a lesson or something. As if I didn’t feel bad about not living up to his expectations enough already.”

Eddie doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but his silence seems to make Steve nervous. “It’s whatever though, I shouldn’t be dumping this all on you, sorry.”

“Hey man, it’s cool, sounds like King Harrington of Hawkins expected a lot of the Prince.” They’re turning into the Forest Hills trailer park now; Eddie has a fleeting thought about how he’s finally made it to where he’d been heading last night, and something about how a twist of fate (of feet?) diverted him to a whole new course he hadn’t expected, but was glad had happened.

Steve snorts, “Yeah, don’t think he appreciated the Prince parading around pretending to be King prematurely, huh?”

Eddie grins at him as the wheels crunch on the gravel pad outside his home. “A savior and a Prince is better than a King any day.”

He gets a grin in return, then it falls slightly as he glances up at the trailer. “Well, here you are, Munson. It was, uh, weird? But nice to meet you…Officially, anyway” he tacks onto the end, “Just don’t accidentally fall into my pool again.”

“Hmm, I dunno Stevie, it was nice to be pampered.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle up again when he laughs, “How would you rate your visit to Casa Harrington, sir? On a scale of four to five stars?”

“Hmmm.. probably a 4.7 out of five.”

“4.7?! Ouch Eds, that hurts.” Steve clutches a hand to his chest, “After all the waffles and wakeup calls,”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for those wakeup calls.”

“4.7…” he mutters again, shaking his head, “What would’ve given me a full five then?”

“Well you gotta lay off the wakeup calls for starters,” Eddie says, starting to count on his fingers, “More options for toppings at your waffle breakfast bar,”

“You had strawberries and chocolate syrup! What more do you need?!”

Eddie continues on as if he hadn’t heard him. “There was no lifeguard on duty, my towels weren’t warmed up for me, I believe I was promised a True Love’s kiss at some point and never got it, the concierge antagonized my uncle—”

He’s interrupted from his rant by a quick press of something to the corner of his mouth.

He whips his head around and Steve’s face is mere inches from his. There’s a blush high on his cheeks, his eyes are wide (and they’re hazel, how’d he not know that?!), “Did you just—”

“Eddie! Get your ass up here, now.” Wayne calls from the porch, causing them both to jump.

“Better get goin’ Eds.” Steve whispers, swallowing hard.

“Yeah, I–” he glances down at Steve’s lips, he has a few seconds, right? Enough time to—

“Eddie!” Nope.

His eyes stay trained on Steve’s nervous expression while his hand scrambles for the handle. He finally finds it, all but spills out of the car, and closes the door behind him once he’s out fully.

Without any more preamble, Steve backs out of their driveway, and leaves the park.

-🍦-

Steve doesn’t see Eddie for a couple weeks, wasn’t even sure Eddie would want to see him again after that stupid move he pulled, but when he finally does, it’s just before closing on a random Wednesday at Scoops.

“You missed, Harrington!” Eddie calls from the entrance to Scoops. He sounds like he’s out of breath.

“Eddie?”

“You missed!” he walks forward at a normal speed, despite seeming like he’d rushed to get here. He’s also shaking his finger at him, chiding.

“Where’ve you been, man?”

“Had to take care of the whole ‘evading arrest’ thing, but that’s not important. You missed Stevie.”

“Stevie?” he hears Robin mutter in disbelief.

“Missed what? I mean, yeah, I missed you too man, but what—?”

He’s cut off when Eddie finally reaches the counter, grabs his face in both hands, and kisses him square on the mouth.

Robin yelps in surprise, but that is the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. 

Eddie’s lips are chapped, but they slot along Steve’s so easy it makes his head spin.

After forever and no time at all, Eddie pulls back, dropping back to his side of the counter. “There. A real lips to lips kiss. None of that sly cheek shit, Harrington.”

Steve’s still a bit dazed, “Much better than the first one.” He leans closer to Eddie again, lips searching, but he’s held still.

“Whattya mean, ‘the first one’?”

It clears his head a bit, “Uh, the one where I saved your life? Obviously.”

“That doesn’t count!” Eddie’s hands leave his face, and he misses them already.

“It was lips to lips! Isn’t that what you just said?”

“It was CPR, Steven!”

“I can count it as our first kiss if I want to, Edward.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest.

“My name’s not Edwa—”

The long squeal of marker-on-whiteboard cuts him off, and he immediately flushes red.

Oh yeah, Robin…aw fuck.

He turns slowly to the window behind the counter; a single tally mark has been drawn into the left side of Robin’s YOU RULE / YOU SUCK board.

She caps the marker, sets it down, smirks, and says “Congratulations, Dingus.”

this is also on AO3!

tagging a few of the people in the tags of the original who seemed interested in more! hope that's okay!!!

@inthewychelm @tboyeddie @brbsoulnomming @henderdads @ajs624 @sleepy-steve @eddiesdoeeyes @steddie-island @themeanderingty @hammity-hammer @spicysix @steddieasitgoes @willowworkswithwords @farahsamboolents @shares-a-vest @klausinamarink @fortheloveofgodletmein @sharpbutsoft @perseus-notjackson @zombiethingy @tchackdaw @eddiethehunted @smoothiecas @donttellunclesam @allyricas @living-force @xandriumbat @himbosandhardwear @everything-is-the-answer @sidebarre @m-owo-n @warmsole @occasionaloverboy @whoopssteddiefeels @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @extra-transitional @cecil5683 @makeadealwithdean @huymadovan

[kpop---scenarios]

Blind Spot (3)

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader x Lee Know

Warning: Ugh...sadness

Word Count: 2.4k

Taglist: @ivydoesit23 @number1jeonginstan @angelsquid @stay-tiny-things @theodorenottgf @caught-in-the-afterglow @endofjune30 @emily21morgan @moonlight-sunrise-channie @klyde06 @thefangirloncrack

@bx-lov3 @anskiiz

Everything Taglist: @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@wife2straykids @silly250 @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @1810cl

ONE | TWO

“How are you feeling today?” Minho asks you, sitting beside you on the couch that you've been sleeping on for the past week. He had offered you his bed, and he'd sleep on the couch but he was already doing so much in letting you stay with him, you couldn't put him out of his bed as well.

“I'm okay.” You breathe, smiling at him. “I really can't thank you enough for all your help and support over this past week. I don't know what I would have done… I still don't even want to look at him.”

“I just can't believe it…still that he would do that to you. It's so completely out of character for Jeongin to cheat. He would boast about how absolutely in love with you he was. It just doesn't make sense.” Minho says, noticing that today is the first day you didn't wake up crying.

“I guess you really can't trust anyone. I just wish he would stop calling me.” You groan, looking at the multiple missed calls and texts from him.

“Maybe that's what you need…I mean to talk to him.” Minho suggests. “Just hear him out, get closure and move on.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

You did feel like you had questions that you needed answered, so maybe it wouldn't hurt for you to sit down and talk to him. However, you still had the question of if he would tell you the truth or not, and frankly you didn't have much faith in him that he would. You wished you were never in this situation, you wished you never would have said yes to the threesome because if you hadn't, maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to sleep with Chae afterwards and maybe the two of you would still be happy.

Maybe.

Your phone rings as Minho stands up, walking to the kitchen. Jeongin again. You take a few deep breaths, answering the phone with your most unimpressed voice.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” Jeongin gasps. “Why haven't you been answering me? I've been worried sick.”

“Are you serious? Why would I ever want to talk to you?” You snap. “You're lucky I even answered right now.”

“Where are you? Are you okay?” He sniffles, you can hear his voice crack slightly, he sounds distraught. If only it hadn't been his own doing.

“I'm fine. I've been staying with a friend.” You say. You weren't about to tell him where, the last thing you wanted or needed was for him to show up whenever he felt like it.

“Can we please talk… this was the biggest mistake I've ever made, please Y/N.” He breathes. You can hear his voice quiver as he tries to hold back from crying.

“I'll come over. Just to hear you out.” You sigh.

“No!” He yells. “I mean, let's meet for coffee.” He says.

That was weird.

“Fine. Meet me in half an hour. At the shop we used to go too.” You say, hanging up the phone.

You got up off the couch, heading to the bathroom to start getting ready.

Not long later, you sat at a table, your iced coffee in hand as you watched people pass by the shop, Jeongin still not there. You glance at your phone, deciding to only wait another 10 minutes and if he didn't show up, then you weren't going to wait around any longer.

“Y/N.” You hear. You knew it was Jeongin, even when he sounded out of breath you knew his voice. You look up at the sweaty, red faced man walking towards the table.

“You're late.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I know I'm sorry, I got tied up.” He mutters, sliding into the chair across from you.

“Okay. So, say what you need to say.” You tell him, crossing your arms. You watch him struggle to find the right words that he wants to begin with. He knows he's already off to a bad start for keeping you waiting.

“I never imagined myself doing this to you, or anyone. I'm not the type to cheat, Y/N. You know that.” He says.

“Yeah I thought I knew that. Turns out I didn't know shit.” You snap.

“I don't know what happened…” He murmurs.

“Neither do I. Were you unhappy with us?” You ask.

“No! Not at all.” He says.

“Did you fall out of love with me?”

“No! How could I?”

“Did she drug you or force you into fucking her?” You ask.

“No she didn't.” He whispers.

“Well then I have no fucking clue.” You say. “What reason could there possibly be for you to do that?”

“I don't have one. And I'm not about to come up with some lame ass excuse for it. But I love you and I need you. Please give me another chance. Please.” He begs.

“I don't know… I really don't think I can ever trust you again.” You whisper. “You broke my trust… you broke me.”

“And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. If you'll just give me one chance. Please. I miss you so much.”

If you were being honest, you missed him. You did still love him, for some reason. But you weren't sure if this was something you could ever get over. How could you trust him around anyone again? Maybe you could learn… You weren't sure.

“I want to agree. But I just don't know…” you trail off. “It's scary to think about letting you back in after that.”

“I will never do anything to make you not trust me again.” Jeongin tells you. He looks so pitiful, it almost broke your heart more to see him like this.

“I…” you pause, your phone dinging from a message. You open the text, from Chae, and tears immediately well up in your eyes. You look up at Jeongin as a tear slips down your cheek.

“So much for not lying anymore.” You sniffle. “Is it true?”

“What?” He asks, looking confused. “Is what true?”

“She's pregnant.” You murmur.

“Fuck sakes. I told her not to tell you.” He snaps. You look at him wide-eyed. “You knew?”

“That's why I was late.” He groans, letting his head fall into his hands.

“So you're here begging for me to take you back, when you knew she's knocked up with your kid? What the fuck, Jeongin.” You scream.

“it doesn't matter!” He yells. “I don't want anything else to do with her!”

“She's growing your baby!” You yell, your phone ringing again. “and apparently you've also moved her into the apartment.” You laugh.

Wow, this was all hilarious.

“Fuck you. Fuck you both.” You snap, abruptly standing up, knocking your chair back, heading towards the door.

“Wait!” He yells. “I know you don't owe me anything, but grammie…” He stutters.

Grammie? You loved his grandma so much, and you swore you were her favorite too.

“What about grammie?” You ask, turning around, trying to control your tears.

“She's…sick. She's been asking to see you… to see us. Please just go out to the lake house with me, pretend we're happy. It's one of her last…wishes to see… you.” He whispers.

You weren't heartless. You couldn't deny her, her dying wish. “When?” You ask.

“We'll leave tomorrow.” He says.

“Fine.” You sniffle. “After that, I don't want to hear from you again.”

The next morning, you're awake and packed, dreading spending an entire 4 days with Jeongin at his family's home. You loved his family, but him, you'd never actively hated someone so much.

“Morning.” Jeongin smiles as you climb into his car, setting your bag down at your feet.

“Hi.” You whisper.

“So you've been staying with Minho.” He says, beginning the few hour drive to the house on the lake.

“Yeah I have. He's been a really good friend to me.” You say, staring out the window.

“Are you guys fucking?” He asks. You whip your head around to glare at him. He grips the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.

“No. But even if I was, I don't see how that's any of your goddamn business.” You snap.

“I just don't want you to move on.” He admits.

“I'm going to move on. Because there's nothing for us now. You're with Chae now. I hope you two have a long and miserable life.” You smile.

“But we're not together.” He says. “She only moved in because she's pregnant. I don't want her.”

“You sure wanted her when I came home to her riding you.”

“When are you gonna let this go?” He sighs.

“You act like this happened years ago and I keep bringing it up. It was not very long ago. It's fresh.” You say. “I won't let it go ever.”

The rest of the drive is spent listening to the radio, you didn't want to talk to him anymore. You would have much rather been in complete and total silence than utter one more word to him.

A few hours later, Jeongin pulls up the driveway of the lake house, and it brings up so many memories of times you spent with his family here in the summers, winters, and the fall. It makes you sad that things have come to this now but you were determined to make good memories this weekend, for grammie. You would put aside your issues with Jeongin, only for her.

“Y/N! Darling.” His mom yells, rushing out the front door to greet you. You smile widely as you get out of the car, wrapping your arms around her as she holds you closely.

“Hi mom.” Jeongin says.

“Yeah, yeah, hi.” she murmurs, holding you a little tighter. “How are you my darling?” She asks, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, bringing you towards the door.

“I'm good… but my bag.” You laugh.

“Jeongin grab her bag.” His mom yells, ushering you inside. “I made you snacks.” She giggles, bringing you to the kitchen.

“Oh my favorite! Thank you!” You smile, happily sitting down to eat.

The two of you chat for a few minutes before Jeongin comes in with the bags, huffing as he sets them down, coming to sit at the counter with you.

“Where's grammie?” You ask, glancing around.

“She's just resting. I'm sure she'll be up soon. She'll be so happy to see you!”

“What about me?” Jeongin asks, grabbing a few snacks.

“Yes, I'm sure she'll also be happy to see you.” His mom laughs.

“I'm always so left out when we come here.” He mutters, eating some more snacks.

“I'm just so glad you brought my Y/N back out to see me.” His mom smiles, grabbing your hand.

“Is that… is that my favorite girl?” You hear from behind you. You turn around to see grammie walking towards you, looking better than the last time you saw her.

“Grammie!” You grin. You walk over to her, gently wrapping your arms around her. “You look great.”

“I feel great!” She laughs, rubbing your back. She lets go of you, holding your hand as you both go back to the counter. She eats some snacks, tells you stories and laughs so hard, she doesn't look sick at all. You look at Jeongin, who avoids any eye contact with you.

“I'm going to run to the bathroom.” You smile, walking out of the room, Jeongin still not acknowledging you.

On your way back, you stop just before the kitchen, listening to the conversation. “Yeah we're really happy. I'm going to propose.” He tells them.

“You should do it on the hike tomorrow!” Grammie suggests.

You walk in, clearing your throat. “Hike? Grammie, are you sure you should be hiking?” You ask.

“Why wouldn't I? I've never been so healthy in my life.” She laughs.

“You're not sick?” You ask.

“No my darling, I'm the epitome of health.”

“Jeongin. Can I talk to you? In private.” You smile, heading towards the room the two of you always share.

He hesitantly follows you to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He stands in front of you, his head hanging low.

“What the fuck is going on?” You snap.

“I thought that maybe if I brought you out here to see them you'd remember how much you loved me, and them, and you wouldn't leave.” He whispers. “I knew you wouldn't come unless there was a reason.”

“You're damn right I wouldn't have. And I stupidly came out here with you. I'm not staying.” You snap.

“How? How are you going to leave?” He asks.

You pull out your phone, dialing Minho’s number. “Hey, you okay?” He answers.

“No, I'm not. He lied to me. Please… can you come get me?”

“I'm on my way. Hang tight.” He says, hanging up the phone.

“Really?” Jeongin scoffs. “Minho?”

“Yeah really. I can't actually trust him. Don't talk to me anymore. Any chance we had at rekindling is completely gone.” You snap, leaving the room with your bag.

“What's wrong, darling? Are you not staying?” Grammie asks.

“I'm sorry you guys… I can't. Jeongin, care to explain or should I?” You ask.

He doesn't say anything.

“Jeongin cheated on me.” You say. “And I caught them. And then, when I told him I was done he told me grammie was sick and it was her last wish to see me.” You tell them.

They both look appalled, looking at Jeongin.

“Oh and the best part? She's pregnant. however she is known to get around, so whether or not it's Jeongin's is a whole other story.`` You laugh.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Grammie yells at Jeongin, smacking him upside the head.

You're on the verge of tears, you need air. You grabbed your bag, sitting outside while you waited for Minho to show up.

A little while later, Minho pulls into the driveway, and just before you begin walking towards the car, Jeongin’s mom comes out of the house after her and Grammie yelled at Jeongin the whole time.

“My darling girl.” She sighs, hugging you tightly. “I'm so very sorry.” She whispers. “If you don't want to forgive him, I don't blame you. But please, call me whenever, for whatever, or visit. Anything. We love you.”

“Thank you.” You sniffle. “I love you guys too.”

She lets go of you, waving to Minho before she heads back inside and yells at Jeongin some more.

“Hey.” Minho smiles as you get into the car. “What happened?”

“He lied. Grammie is fine. She's not sick at all.” You sigh. “I'm so tired of being lied to. Everything is just shit.”

Minho chuckles. “I'm sorry he lied. But everything is going to be fine.”

The last time you were told everything was going to be fine, it wasn't. Surely this time, though, everything would actually be fine?

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...

Week 10: The Kumquat

Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.

But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.

You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.

But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.

You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.

Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗

You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.

In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.

“Is that necessary?” you asked.

She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.

You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.

They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.

“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”

“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”

You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.

“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”

Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”

“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”

You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.

She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.

But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.

“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.

The doctor nodded.

You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.

You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”

“Of course,” the doctor said.

You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.

When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.

Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.

Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.

“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.

“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”

“Yes! After yours, of course.”

“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.

“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”

“It’s really okay, Em.”

She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.

“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”

“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”

“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”

“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.

Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”

“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”

The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”

You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.

“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”

“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”

“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.” 

“I love you, too.”

You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.

[cottonlemonade]

Takeout And Makeout

word count: 850 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: University!AU Oikawa x inexperienced chubby!Reader

genre: suggestive(?) fluff, new relationship

warnings: eh, none really, some smoochin

synopsis: you’re a TA and Oikawa comes to visit you in the office late at night (okay, maybe not late at night but y’all are alone and it’s dark outside) - he enjoys making you flustered

Your shoulders cracked satisfyingly as you stretched your arms above your head. It was past 8 and the professors had gone home for the night - not before leaving you, their TA, with plenty of things to finish up before you could head back to your dorm yourself. Muttering under your breath, you put on some nondescript background music and turned the page of a paper you had to proofread.

As you wouldn't get home before 10 or 11, you contemplated having food delivered and tapped around on your phone trying to find an enticing menu.

Your concentration really hadn’t lasted long. Wow.

But, unable to focus, you abandoned even the food search and went through your latest messages with Tooru. How you had to blow him off, because you were stuck in your professor's office and how adorably gloomy his responses had been. You smiled at the pouting selfie he sent last. Much to your dismay you hadn't seen him in person for a couple of days and you stared off into space for a moment, letting your last meeting pass before your inner eye. The setting sun, the cicadas, his confession, the hug and the kiss. It had been replaying in your head over and over. For weeks he had pretended to need your tutoring before he finally worked up the courage to ask you out. You felt giddy all over again at the thought.

A quiet knock burst your bubble and you went to unlock the office door.

"Good evening, y/n-chan.", Tooru said with his dazzling smile.

"Hey! What are you doing here?", you asked, a little squeaky from excitement to see him.

He held up a delicious smelling bag and you beamed in appreciation.

"Thank you."

You almost leaped aside in your eagerness to let him in and he looked around the office, setting the food down in the middle of the large table.

After he took off his jacket, he turned to face you.

“Don’t forget to tip the delivery person.”

He leaned forward with an expectant grin and after shaking your head at his cheesiness, you gave him a peck on the cheek. For a moment he hesitated, then closed the gap between you two and snaked his arms around your waist.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Tooru pulled you close and had obviously no intention of letting go as he nuzzled into your neck, squeezing your soft hips ever so slightly. You had no idea how he managed to make his hugs feel so sweet yet … sensual.

"Kiss me.", you sighed quietly, hoping immediately he didn't hear it. Even though you were a year older, he had far more experience in dating than you.

But Tooru pulled away a bit and pressed his lips to your forehead, sending a warm shiver down your spine. He looked in your eyes, a taunting smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

Of course he knew what you had actually meant. It was obvious from the way he cocked his brow so infuriatingly self-assured.

When you didn't say anything but your puppy eyes grew bigger, he decided to tease.

"Was that not what you wanted, y/n-chan?", he asked, his voice smooth and low.

You took a silent breath, feeling rather stupid when you mumbled, "My lips."

He leaned down and you caught your breath, but he only turned his head a bit to the side as if to hear better.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

You squirmed a little in his arms, making him chuckle but he kept eye contact, his gaze burning on your skin.

"Kiss my lips.", you said, still quietly but at least stronger than before.

"Yes… Senpai.", he purred and leaned down again. His lips only brushed yours at first, probably testing to see if you really were fine with it, then he added more pressure, more breath, more… hands. He squeezed your hips again - a new favorite pastime of his - before fully enclosing you in his strong arms, keeping you trapped between him and the table. Your head was spinning but it just felt too good to stop. Your friends had told you that when a kiss was really good, you'd feel drunk. The rational part of your brain explained it with the (terribly unromantic) probable occurrence of oxygen deficiency, but right now all you cared about was him. His lips, his hands, his lean muscular body pressed against your plush curves, your fingers developing a life of their own and sliding up to the back of his neck, needing to feel him more.

Once you both ran out of breath, you just rested your foreheads against each other, both grinning like idiots in your lightheadedness.

His lips were pink and a little swollen and you were tempted to pull him in again, but he laced your fingers with his and kissed the tip of your nose.

"We should eat before it gets cold."

You nodded and smiled when he gave you one more sweet kiss, then pulled up a chair for you to sit.

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (|||) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 3215

Driver!OC X Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Previous || Next

Hate for days

Four race weekends later and the hate for the female was ramping up for no reason. It was becoming unsettling for everyone, the drivers, the team and everyone involved. Yes her fanbase was also getting bigger but they were being overshadowed by the haters and they weren’t big enough yet. This week is the Austrian Grand Prix, maybe it was orchestrated but it was one hell of a week. The female has been doing great in all these races, being in the top 10 all the time, even snagging a Pole position in Canada at P3. all this seemed to make the people hate her more if that was even possible, how can this woman do better than Sebastian Vettle they said, he’s a four time world champion, the name calls, the speculations, everything made them tick. Every week Cecilia is racing; she's doing things no female has done before in Formula 1, even if she left today she’d be remembered in the sport, they had the audacity to say it’s because she’d a nepo baby, when half the grid were nepo babies themselves, children of past drivers. 

The one day the female dreaded in her race week is the Media day, she didn't mind the videos she made for Mclaren with Lando, the two becoming closer as the year went on. Decked in Mclaren’s kit once again, she made her way to the entrance. And some asshole just had the audacity to throw something at her, she was standing signing a cap one of her fans was holding when she felt it hit her. She gasped in shock and pain and was in an instant led inside by the security walking with her, she couldn’t even turn around and look before she was whisked inside. She did hear shouting and some type of ruckus behind her, her German wasn’t great but she heard a lot of cursing. She doesn’t even know what was thrown at her, but she felt liquid running down the side of her face, pulling back her hand she saw it red, it wasn’t blood it was some sort of paint or something. The security hadn’t let her stop until she was in Mclaren’s motorhome, Sedil was talking to Toto Wolff of all people when his driver came in with her blonde hair and part of her face red for a split second it did look like blood, bu it was much brighter, around her people were panicking.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” The female was repeating over and over again to no avail, no one was listening to her it seemed.

“What happened?” Sedil asked his(favourite) driver. 

“An asshole threw what I’m guessing is a balloon filled with paint or something at me, but I’m fine.” Pressing the last part as she said looking at her PR manager. 

“That’s not okay.” Toto was the one to say, he’s never seen or heard of a driver getting something thrown at them like this before, they weren't at a play for goodness sake, he hoped Mclaren would handle this and take care of their drivers more. 

“No it’s not, but there's nothing I can do about it now.” The female said, shrugging, all in the love of the sport. “I’m just going to shower and get ready for the day, again.”

Walking off with her head held high, she wasn’t going to slip or crumble even if all she wanted was to do that, she hadn’t left her daughter and family for her to do that. They’ll hold nothing on her, no way. Nothing is getting in her way.

“That’s a special one you got there.” Toto said watching as the female left with people still fretting over her. 

“Yes we do, I’m just afraid it’ll only get worse.” Sedil pushed up his glasses while watching the strong woman on his team. 

“Just make her come in the back door.” 

“That’s not what I'm talking about.”

Later in the day after Cecilia showered(and tried not to break down in the shower), changed into fresh clothes, redid her makeup with the help of the female workers in the team’s makeup, she looked fresh as new. The news already spread and pictures were already floating online, Cecilia talked to her dad and reassured him she's okay and told him to keep it from her daughter. 

Lando was waiting for her in front of her door. “I’m fine.” She said before he could open his mouth. As they walked out together for the small little interviews they had to do together before they were split up, she was thankful no one asked about this morning, whether it was because Lando signalled to their friends not to or because they saw the look on her face she had no idea but she’s thankful nonetheless. 

The group interviews are what she hated the most, she was mostly ignored still but was asked a few questions every now and then. Today she was being interviewed with Lewis, Seb, Pierre and Kimi.

She smiled when she saw the lot, Pierre giving her a longer hug than normal, the female’s love language being physical touch didn’t hate it, Seb also pulled her for a hug. When they walked onto the platform, Cecilia sat in the middle with Seb and Lewis on one side and Pierre and Kimi on the other. For the first 10 minutes or so nothing unusual happened, she was asked a yes or no question and that was it.

“For the older group, since you’ve had the chance to race with Cecilia, what do you think about having a female in the sport?” the man asking, made the Mclaren driver roll her eyes a little, the way he said female it sounded like they were the lowest of the lowest, god’s most despised creation, acting as if his mother was anything but a female. 

“I think she’s a phenomenal driver, regardless of her gender she’s had an amazing start to her rookie season.” Lewis said, praising the girl, he didn’t like what happened today and what continues to happen in the sport, everytime he thinks the world is going in the right direction something like this happens. 

“Going over what Lewis said, I’ve watched her race for years, before she became an F1 driver, and I’ve even told Lewis about her before, racing with her is something I had hoped to do for a while now.” Sebastian said and Lewis nodded with his words, they both looked neutral on the outside fuming on the inside. 

“So her being a female doesn’t bother you?” Tilting her head a little at the question, she isn’t sure she heard him correctly, people seem to be getting bolder today. 

“Why?” Kimi was the one to answer, something he never does, he never answers for someone else. The iceman has a daughter of his own, he dreads the day she comes into a sport or a workplace that is a male dominated and having to go through this shit, he applauds Cecilia’s courage, and he hopes for once the sport can change and adapt. 

“S-sorry?” The man asking the question stuttered, he didn’t quite understand what kimi was asking.

“Why does it matter that she’s a female?” Both Seb and Lewis watched on as Kimi talked, they knew he 100% had this handled, getting Kimi to talk was a hard thing but when he did he had facts and truth only. 

“Just the physicality of the sport and the pressure of it…” 

“Have you seen any signs of her under performing?” Kimi asked, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, Cecilia felt like she was in a tennis match watching as Kimi talked and the other man struggled to respond. She knew her grid mates, the drivers all had her back, but watching it in action is something else. When the man struggled to answer Kimi continued. “She hasn’t, so we can have this conversation when her gender comes into play.”

“Nicely said Kimi.” Seb grinned, happy with the outcome, Cecilia had to bite the tip of her tongue to stop herself from laughing at the scared look the man had on his face.

The questions moved on, people were more aware of their questions now, she and Kimi got little questions for the rest of the conference both unbothered by it. Pierre did bring up how she beat him a lot while they were young, reminiscing about their Karting days.

The next two days she was booed wherever she went, circuit walk, all of free practices, qualifying people were just booing her whenever they saw her, it kept amping up, first it was five people then ten then twenty then forty and so on and so forth.

By race day where she was starting P4 a whole section was booing her, Cecilia looked ahead not giving them any attention. Her team had her back and that’s all she wanted or needed.

She had a tough time for the race, she had to overtake Lewis, Valtteri and Seb for P1, and she planned to do it, she’ll prove everyone wrong and end this debate once and for all. Lap 15 she overtook Valtteri in the DRS zone 1, she was scared he’ll overtake her in Zone 2 but Max was also making a move so that made him the main focus not her, she was able to slip away and close in on the Ferrari ahead of her.

RE(race engineer) You’re now P3, keep the pace until we need to box for now. We suspect Ferrari to box soon as well

Trusting her team’s judgement, she waited until lap 30 where she’s been gaining on Seb before she started losing grip in the tires and had to box, a little earlier than they hoped but she had to box now or she’ll be overtaken. Seb boxed a few laps after her, and that gave her the edge and took his position and as much as she loved the man she wasn’t about to let him take P2 again.

Cecilia Someone tell Seb, I love him but I love view from here. RE *chuckle* will do

At the end of sector 2 beginning of 3 she tried to overtake Lewis at turn 8 but he left her no room; she had to stay back or hit the wall. She watched Lewis closely, she knows this man, she grew up watching him race, she analysed his techniques, surely they’ll help her overtake him. 

Lap 67 the race was slowly coming to an end, under 5 laps left the distance between her and Lewis grew at one point, before she scored the fastest lap and closed the distance in lap 68. Once again at the downhill part of the track she tried to overtake lewis in turn 5, 6, 7, and 8, only managing to overtake him in turn 9, she braked late and went on the inside, getting in the DRS zone she gave it her all and tried to just giver herself as much distance as she could.

RE That’s amazing, just focus on maintaining speed, Hamilton’s tires aren’t helping him. Cecilia He won’t box will he? RE No you’re in lap 69 Cecilia Oh… that’s good i guess

The last three laps had Cecilia feeling like she wasn’t in control of her body, she was focused on winning, she didn’t count the laps, didn't do anything, just asked about the time between her and Lewis and raced. Passing the chequered flag made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

RE That’s P1 Cecilia P1! Well done! Cecilia OH MY GOD! I DID IT! Thank you, thank you so much. Oh my god, we did it everyone, amazing job. RE You just made history Cecilia

Finishing her cool down lap she drove to the number one stand and got out of the car and ran to Mclaren, the team held the crying girl, of course she had her helmet on, no one was able to see her face.

She went to get weighted, Lewis came up to her as she took off her helmet. The male opened his arms for a hug and she just let him. He patted her back, despite coming in 2nd to her he was beyond happy for her, she deserved it. Seb took Lewis’ place hugging Cecilia so tight before he slightly lifted her off the ground.

“Congratulations, Cece, you deserve it.” Was all Seb managed to say before he was whisked away for his interview. When it was her turn she had thankfully calmed down a little.

“Cecilia, amazing race, amazing performance, congratulations on your first win in Formula one.'' The female presenter had a huge smile on her face.

“Thank you so much.” Cecilia had a matching grin.

“Tell me, how do you feel right now?”

“It feels like a dream, I've dreamt and worked for this moment since my first go kart ride, so it feels a little unreal.” The female said and took out her braid from her suit, feeling it bother her slightly.

“One last question before you go, what do you want to say to everyone watching you right now?” Cecilia chuckled in true Cecilia fashion as she looked at the camera, her ice blue eyes dead as they looked emotionlessly at the camera lens.

“I want to thank those who booed me, you hate me, means you think about me, and because I was in your thoughts I was able to win.” With a tilt to her lips she smiled at the interviewer, thanked her and left. 

Walking into the cool down room, she took the number one hat and looked at it, her first one. Sitting between the two males they watched the screen replaying some parts of the race, they were talking about what happened during the race.

The screen showed the moment Cecilia overtook Lewis, Sebastian was seeing the chase for the first time, in a few seconds she was able to get pole position and pass the current world champion. 

“That was great Cecilia, very daring.” Sebastian complemented her, a moment she will forever hold, she felt beyond proud of herself.

Standing in the middle on the top part of the podium was such a surreal moment, definitely one she won’t ever forget. When the Monaco national anthem played Cecilia felt so proud she hoped her girl was watching her mummy win. Holding her trophy up she kissed it and held it high for photos, she did this, she won this award with her blood sweat and tears(and champagne). This moment is hers so fuck all the haters because she deserved this.

Cecilia opted out from her traditional analysis of the race and she went back to the hotel to shower and get ready for the party, all her friends and crew wanted to celebrate her first win. She doesn’t drink much anymore but for once she’d go have a few drinks and dance and let loose. She facetimed her family, her girl was full of shouts relaying what she saw in a comical way, seeing her through the screen she wanted to go home and hug and kiss her little girl. 

For once Cecilia was dressed and felt like herself, she knew there will be photos posted after this night, but she dressed in a dress, did her make-up how she liked and curled her hair. Making it to the club with Lando, they had room next to each other. Walking in they found their friends already there, Pierre and Alex already a couple drinks in. 

“Our winner!” Charles called seeing his female best friend, he threw his arms out and he pulled her in for a hug, they swayed for a moment. “Félicitations, Cece.” (congratulations)

“Thank you.” Pulling back she was pulled into multiple hugs before Pierre handed her a shot that she threw back, making them cheer. In no time everyone was hitting the dance floor, having the time of their lives. Just a group of twenty somethings having fun. 

Charles and Cecilia were dancing when Max made it, he saw the two dancing and laughing. See, times like this it looked like they were dating, but he knows that Charles is in a relationship, and rumours have it Cecilia is single, but you never know. 

“Maxy!” He didn’t need to look to know who was calling him, the female being the only one who dared keep calling him that to his face all the time, turning to look at her, she looked a little drunk, George handed her another drink as he passed and he watched her take big sips. 

“You’re drunk.” He was amused, he’s sure she’ll never remember this in the morning. 

“And you’re not drunk enough.” She said and tried to give him her drink to get him drunk, Max took it from her hand and took the chance to look at her from up close. She was sweaty but her make-up was intact, to him it looked different, he only ever saw her wearing make-up on media days, now he’s never seen her wear a dress in real life, since the beginning of the season she’d only ever been spotted wearing her team’s kit. Max placed her drink on the table, seeing how drunk everyone is, he made the split decision to try and cut her off, she was stumbling as she walked, and they all had flights out tomorrow afternoon. 

“I don’t get drunk easily.” Max told her, her eyes were unfocused, and she was blinking slowly, definitely tired.

“Bo-ho, a few years ago I would’ve been able to drink and not get drunk, not anymore.” She pouted, the last time she got drunk, or drank anything more than some wine with dinner was the day before she found out she’s pregnant. “Well, I’m gonna go dance.”

Before he could do anything she found Lando and pulled him to dance with her, he seemed more sober so he left them to it, mingling with his friends, he saw some RedBull crew who he talked with and sipped his glass of beer, did he keep Cecilia in his line of sight? Yes he did. Did he stop Pierre and Alex from giving her any more drinks? Yes he did. Did he tell Lando to take her back to the hotel? Yes he did. Also did he help him take her to the car waiting for them outside? Yes he did. Will she remember it? No she probably won’t.

The next day Cecilia woke up to the bright sun streaming through her window, she was on her side and a trash can next to her head. She was still dressed in her dress from last night. She groaned and pulled the cover over her head, she didn't want to wake up. Trying to fall back asleep wasn’t a success when her phone rang and she was informed that she had to leave in under an hour. Sitting up, her blonde hair was all over the place, she remembered almost nothing from the night before, she didn't want to get drunk, but here she is the next day remembering nothing.

“Fuck.”

CeciliaHansson15

Tagged, Mclaren

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 1,263,211 others

ceciliahansson15 the journey has been long, but well worth it. This is only the first step. to all the girls out there know you can do it too.

view all 6,782 comments

username1 you go queen

username2 we need more women in the sport

charles_leclerc félicitations cecilia, j'ai toujours cru en toi (Congratulations Cecilia, alwaywas believed in you)

liked by ceciliahansson15

Ceciliahansson15 merci de toujours me soutenir (thank you for always having my back)

Pierregasly mon ami vient de gagner!!! (my friend just won)

liked by ceciliahansson15

username5 just luck, don't let it get to you're head

username6 what the f do you mean luck, did u actully watch the race

username6 and it's your not you're learn how to spell

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Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles 

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

DESIRE PT.2

SUMMARY: Life was easy until you meet the eye candy of your life and the adventure with him is a hell of ride, but there is certain someone who seems to get hurt in this.

PAIRINGS: Bartender Yoongi X reader (ft Gynecologist Jungkook)

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

WARNINGS: Smut, reader is a flustered cause of course its Jungkook, eekkk Eunwoo is here as well! but he's here only for this chapter, that's it ig, Jungkook is Mia, but he soon will be here!!

SMUT WARNINGS: Doggy, blowjob, fingering, cum eating.

Note: this is inspired by a web series and I’m GONNA EDIT IT, I’m not gonna make it a whole ass 3 season containing 10-12 episodes per season and I felt like I could do something with this series. Thankyou

Work work work......

these past days it's been hell for you from the meetings and cracking up deals you were tired of it , but you still showed up every other day at the office. The interns and other employees did no good when they were asked to fill up your place when you were late for the office.

What kept you alive between this constant hectic schedule was a shot of vodka to wash down all the stress at your and the girl's favourite bar, you guys would spend the almost whole night until it was Yoongi telling you it was time to close the bar for the day.

Just like any other Friday night, you were here with your girls chatting about all the stuff which happened this week and they try to console you saying it's all right and you will pass through it, both of the girls then reach over to give you a warm hug.

Spending a few hours with them Chae gets a call from her husband telling her that he desperately needs help with the 3-year-old. “I'm sorry guys I have to leave, Yu-Jin seems to have a fever and she needs me” Chae says grabbing her purse and getting ready to leave.

Telling Chae a very goodbye and telling her to take care, Yuna is the next one to leave after she gets a call from her girlfriend, she hesitates to look at you, and you tell her it is fine and she can leave, she initiated a small hug and presses kiss on your forehead before she apologizes again.

Feeling alone in this busy bar, you see a busy Yoongi serving drinks on the countertop with Taehyung right beside him, maybe he saw you staring at him so you wave your hand and ask him if it's okay if you can come and sit there, he says he's more than happy to have you there.

"Hey, miss how are you? doing okay?" Yoongi asks before serving the last customer for the time being and telling Taehyung to look after them, "I'm okay I guess work is killing me, the meetings and the deals and whatnot is what I'm bored of you tell me?" Sighing you wait for him to answer, and he chuckles and says he's completely fine.

Yoongi places two glasses in front of you one for him and the other one for you of course, pouring in some of your favourite Japanese malts you chug it down with a “Cheers” Groaning at the taste he brings up some fries on the side and you thank him for being considerate.

"I'm bored yoongi, I wanna go on a trip or something." The tipsy you come out of you, and you slur occasionally while speaking “Calm down y/n, it's enough shall I call a cab for you?” Ever so sweet Yoongi asks you just because you are out of it after having the shots you had with the girls and the three glasses of malt with yoongi.

Yoongi soon books a cab and tells the man to drop you at the place, you reach your home soon after the fifteen minutes of the ride just to see your ex- fuck buddy right outside your house.

“Eunwoo? What the fuck? when did you come back?” Your mood instantly lights up after seeing him after so long and all the tipsiness goes away. “Hey y/n, I landed a few hours ago and thought of visiting you first and right when I was about to call you, here you were” He says with a bright smile.

You intended to initiate “Just a hug” but you don't know how he is under the sheets right now eating you out like a hungry man, “fuck right there woo” you moan and reach a good orgasm after a long time, your vibrator did no good until you felt a tongue or fingers or even someone's dick at this point.

Upon reaching your orgasm the man between you now hovers above you with his lips drenched in your release, and grabs on his hard length and positions right where your hole clenches, the release makes the slide just perfect for him to slide inside you and a moan tremble from his lips.

“Yeah perfect, keep going,”you say and grab on the small wisps of hair on the back of his head, and he grunts at the tight fit making him almost “relax angel, I promise I'll be good just please....”soft moans leave his mouth and both cum at the same time.

After a few minutes, Eunwoo lays on the side of your bed and talks to you until an awkward silence fills in and you call his name softly “Eunwoo...” sighing he gets up and leaves the bed and soon goes to grab his clothes and place a last kiss on your cheeks before telling you goodbye.

You sigh feeling bad for telling him to go but yeah you were always like this, and he knows it well just like that waking up from the bed you grab on the new sheets to change and place soft pillows all over your big bed and go back to sleep peacefully.

THE NEXT MORNING

“Hey hi! I'd like to order a butter croissant and black coffee” You get the cash ready and tell the counter women to take your order, not realizing you hear someone calling your full name and when you turn around to see it no one then "Mr. jeon your gynaecologist."

With a flustered smile, you tell him a quick "hi" before paying her the bill and getting off the line, you didn't expect him to get off the line with you, in a flustered state you ask him if he lives here and all the stuff and grab your order just to tell her she can pack this as a takeaway.

Rolling her eyes she packs up the drink and food and gives you the bag while Jungkook just gives you a crooked smile and walks out “Hey by the way I got my period last week” you tell him, and it gets more than awkward it was earlier.

“Oh, that's great, good to see you” Jungkook says, and you wave a quick bye when you get a call from your coworker and leave the place Jungkook stands there, and a smirk paints his lips.

This is the fourth time you are pissed at your coworker today; they fucked up the most important file “Can you at least get me a copy of the papers?” you ask again getting disappointed again “Sorry ma'am I didn't get the photocopies of it” Your intern says and you just sigh.

“Okay maybe try searching the file again, and if not I'll contact the clients and tell them to send the original copies,” you tell and dismiss the meeting, at this point, you need nothing more than a cold martini.

“Can you believe Chae, they misplaced the fucking file, I'm glad they weren't the original or else I would've been fucked” you say very much pissed at the events which happened today, while Chae and Yuna just sip on their drinks after trying to calm you down.

“Chill baby, everything's going to be fine you need to calm down y/n” your friends tell you and you just sigh, you long for nothing more but a break from this bullshit, paying up for the drinks today you say goodbye to your friends and go ahead to meet yoongi, who is the position of cleaning up for the day.

“Hey, how are you y/n?” Yoongi asks in a very yoongi manner his front teeth appearing when he talks to you, and you tell him all the events happening with you while he places two glasses of whiskey in front of you.

You don't even notice it is past one a.m. until Eunwoo texts you.

EUNWOO🫣🫣: hey, you up?

YOU: busy right now.

YOU: rain check?

"Another glass?" you ask him after chugging down the remaining glass while Yoongi hesitates and tells you he needs to stock up for a party which is happening tomorrow, you give him an embarrassed smile and tell him it is fine, and you will leave Yoongi feels equally embarrassed to cut you off for the night.

YOU: Free now, will be in 15 mins.

"Fuck right there" you moan at your ex- fuck buddy who is fucking you like a slut, your face down facing the sheets while he hammers from the back, his moans and grunts fill the room, and the room smells of sex and sweat.

"Fuck baby, you are so tight, missed me while I was away, right?" Eunwoo mutters while thrusting inside you and you choke on your moans and manage to mumble a small "yes" clenching on the sheets you cry for more, you needed this after a long day at work.

"Gonna cum.....ye-ah right there" you shutter at one point when he finds your g -spot, the slapping of his hips fastens just when you cum and cream his cock, and the man behind you slows and pulls out a bit just to see the creamy slick forming at the base, "fuck so messy y/n," Eunwoo says while he fills you up with his hot cum.

"On your back baby," he says, and you obey at lightning speed and your eyes shut at the moment when he nibbles on your pebbled nipples, you twitch at the feeling until you moan out loud when his thumb rubs on your clit and his index finger enters you.

Your pussy gushes out the mixture of both of your releases and messes up the sheets under you, Eunwoo continues to slurp and nibble your nipples while you whine at the overstimulation and fall apart on his fingers again for the second time in the night.

"lay down wanna suck you off real good" you whisper and kiss his lips in the heat of the moment, now that you are in between his thighs you start laying some soft kisses all over the tip and he whines at the sensitivity.

The taste of your releases still lingers on his tip, and you whimper at the taste, sucking on the tip Eunwoo above you is about to lose on for the second time, his soft grunts surrounded the room as you palmed and layed soft kisses on his balls.

The tightness of the grip he has on your hair ensures you that he is about to cum and increase your pace in palming him and you soon let him cum in your mouth and you swallow like a good girl you were.

You don't know why you let Eunwoo stay even after it was ruled to never let any fuck buddy stay at your house after fucking but here you are in his embrace and cuddling him.

A/N: Thank you for the reading ik it is confusing not Appeling ending or the whole chapter I'm sry but I'll do better. tag list is open.

TAGLLIST: @jungk97kwife @kingofbodyrolls @kimmingyuswifee @heyyymin @cassies-cookies @missnea @kooklovee @lovkiss @jungkooktoespost @jalexad @gimeow @lillove7 @marvelbun @namelesskeid @tyche0119 @gbbhbc123 @whoa-jo @holybxba @bangtans-momma @gdjyho @kpopsmutty69

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

6/10

Note: Yes,i know the picture has a watermark. it's 2 am.

W/c: 4.2k (less painful to edit!)

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)

You don’t know how long you’ve stared at the blank paper. Its thin blue lines taunted you. The questions on the tiny notebook assigned to you were intimidating. You’re sitting here, at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea and looking down at the paper. This is the first part of the assignment. Once you’re going to fail. There are several steps Cheryl gave to get things going for both of you. Answer the questions. Find something both of you like to do. Discuss them together. That should be easy, right? Wrong. It’s been four days and counting and you have yet to write anything. Not that there’s nothing to write. No. You have a lot to say. It just can’t be on paper. Neither of you has been good at expressing your thoughts. You’re worse. You come from a family where conflict was solved with abandonment and passive aggressiveness. Two things you do quite well. This venture into vulnerability is foreign. You’re afraid of being the bad guy again. You don’t want to address the unknown. What if even after all of this you and Natasha don’t work out?

You’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting the past week. There’s always something in the back of your mind that says you’re ruining her life again. You’re ruining your children’s lives. Everything you worked for you ruined. This time would be different. You’re coming into this with a clear head and a fresh perspective. You want your life back. You want your wife back. You want your family. It’s not like you cheated. You didn’t step out of your relationship. You sometimes wish it were so easy. Maybe then your actions can be excused. That’s not the correct way to say it. Cheating is never excusable. You guess it would have been another way to avoid accountability. You blame yourself every day for what happened. Even then guilt is not enough. 

You sigh. Back to the questions. You hold the pencil in your hand—first question. 

“You lead separate lives despite living in the same household.” You read aloud. Wow. Okay. That’s a tough one right off the bat. It’s relevant. It makes sense considering the context. You write yes. You move on to the second question. “You mostly speak about finances or household chores. Question three you have sex less than once weekly.” You stop your reading right there. You’re three for three. If this is how this is going you’re going to be in therapy for a while. 

Were things really that bad? You wonder if Natasha is thinking the same things. 

Across town, Natasha is indeed wondering the same things. She’s just finished up her run for the morning, having gotten the kids out of the door and off to school, and now she has the morning to herself. She’s sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, as the notebook rests in her lap. She pushes her glasses further up her nose. 

“Sex less than once weekly?” She reads. ‘Sex never’. She writes. It’s true. Besides the phone sex last week she doesn’t remember the last time you two were so intimate. Well, she can. Emma’s fifth birthday party. She would hardly count that as something to brag about. While you’re skilled in the bedroom, she felt dirty afterward. She felt used in a way she wasn’t all that willing to share with you. Sex with you has always meant so much more to her. She hopes it’s the same for you. She doesn’t think about it for too long. She can’t dwell on the fact that her body aches for you. Natasha Romanoff knows her worth. She is aware she could go out and find anyone to fuck. She doesn’t have to go far truthfully. She doesn’t want that. It’s kind of pathetic and she would never admit it to anyone. 

Natasha is about to answer another question for the checklist when the doorbell rings. She glances at it, hoping that whoever it is will go away when the ringing becomes more insistent. Natasha rolls her eyes, slamming the book down against the coffee table, to go and answer the door. She swings it open, ready to give whomever it is a piece of her mind when she stops. She crosses her arms and glowers at her visitor suspiciously. 

“Romanoff,” Richard grins at her. “Don’t you look swell?” He admires her messy hair, tank top, and running shorts. He waves a file in his hand. “I have work.” He offers her one of the coffees in his and she takes it. 

“I thought we were meeting at the tower,” Natasha drops her hands from the door. She walks away without offering him a second glance. He would follow. What she doesn’t see is him checking out her ass as he steps inside. He closes the door behind with and walks with her toward the living room. 

“I thought this was much better,” Richard shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“I’m sure you were,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, give me a minute to change and I’ll be right back down. I have a couple of notes over there.” She waves her hand somewhere in the room. Though Richard is an asshole she knows he won’t do anything to put her in danger. She leaves him to his own devices to change out of her workout gear. Not that her new outfit would be much better. 

Richard stands, walks over to the couch to sit, and places the file on the coffee table. He spots the notebook she’s been writing in. It’s safe to assume it’s the one she permitted him to read. It’s not. 

“Healthy relationship checklist,” He reads to himself. “No sex?” He whistles. Wow. That’s disappointing. 

“I’m going to have to ban you from my house soon,” Natasha calls down the stairs. He quickly places the notebook back where he found it. Natasha comes into the living room in a simple blue blouse and slacks. She glances at the notebook, noting that it’s moved a few inches, and tsking. “Richard, seriously, you’re my partner. One I didn’t want. At least have the decency of giving me privacy.”

“I’m sorry I was curious,” He raises his hands in surrender. “If it makes you feel any better I haven’t done it in a while either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better,” Natasha shakes her head. “And I don’t believe you. You’re looking at a sexual harassment complaint and a broken nose if we keep talking about this.”

“Fine,” He shakes his head. “I just think you deserve better.” At Natasha’s warning look he clamps his mouth shut. “I need a consult. Fury wants the entire team on this case but we need your expertise.”

“Why would you need my expertise?” Natasha sits across from him. She takes the file, flipping through the pages before she shakes her head. “What is this?” 

“A recruitment center,” Richard describes. “Someone is recruiting young girls to be assassins. Training them to go out and do their bidding. We want to know the best way to, uh, get in there and get out.” He gestures. 

Natasha frowns. They could have very well asked Melina Yelena or anyone but her. She’s not an expert on brainwashed children. She only knows so much. Even then she provides him with an answer.

“You’re going to need to get someone on the inside obviously,” She says. “Preferably someone young. Wanda Maximoff could pass. She gets in. Find out who knows what. You protect her with your life. Make sure she feels safe at all times. Know that if it’s as bad as this film reads some of them will die.”

“That’s dark,” Richard comments.

“Well, it’s not all sunshine and roses,” Natasha mumbles. She sets the file back down. “Is that all you needed from me?” 

“Well, yeah,” Richard nods. 

“Well, I’d like to be alone in my home now,” Natasha says none too politely. She passes him the large envelope. They both stand. She walks him to the door and to both their surprises you’re on the other side. You’re a bit off-put by Richard being there. 

“I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I stopped by to..” You trail off. 

“Y/n, so good to see you,” Richard offers you a fake smile that you don’t return. 

“He’s leaving,” Natasha makes a face at him. She wasn’t really in the mood for this nonexistent love triangle thing that goes on every time you’re all in the same space. Not that it matters to her. Richard would never be someone that is on her romantic radar. Not when she only has eyes for you. 

“Right, leaving,” Richard nods. He’s about to make a joke when Natasha punches him before he can even open his mouth. He holds his sore arm, offering her an “ow!” Before he shakes his head. He walks down the stairs and to his car without another word. 

Natasha’s gaze returns to you and the brown paper bag you have in your hands. 

“Is that for me?” She asks and you nod silently. Seeing her with Richard does things to you. You follow her into the house where she closes and locks the door. She takes the bag from your hands to set it on the hallway table. You’re not sure who makes the first move but Natasha is in your arms, kissing you, feeling you, and walking backward toward the couch. Your hands are everywhere on her body. You feel the skin under her shirt, down her sides, and her hips, as you push her gently to lie down on the couch. Your kiss is hungry and rough and full of passion. She moans at the feel of your weight atop her. She kisses you back. When your hand slides up her shirt, pinching her nipple through the sports bra she’s wearing, she rips her lips from yours to moan. Her cries go straight to your core. You’re lying here between her legs, kissing her neck now, and holding her right where you want her. Natasha enjoys your touch. It excites her. It makes her feel wanted. She raises her hand to place it over yours. 

“Y/n,” Natasha begs. She doesn’t know exactly what for. She imagines it would be so easy to allow you to take her right here. Right now. The kids aren’t home. There’s no one here to stop her. Even so, she can’t help the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. “Y/n.” The tone of her voice stops you in your tracks. You lift to look into her concerned eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. You take in her kiss-swollen lips, her mussed hair, and her flushed skin. She looks so damn sexy. 

“You did this last time,” Natasha points out. Her voice is small and barely there. You can tell she’s trying to keep the conflict at a minimum. You give her a confused look. What was she talking about? “It’s… it’s stupid.” She shakes her head. “I can't help but notice. Every time Richard comes around you feel the need to stake your claim in some way.”

“I don’t do that,” You scoff. She gestures to the spot on her neck that’s formed into a slight purple bruise. When did you do that? You deflate, sitting up, removing yourself from her embrace. You take deep breaths. Were you doing that to her? 

“I didn’t want to bring it up to upset you,” Natasha instantly misses your touch. She fixes her shirt, adjusts her bra, and moves to sit closer to you. “I don’t want you to want me because someone else does.”

“Do you seriously think that?” You question. “Nat, baby,” You breathe. “I want you because I missed you. I want you because I find you attractive. I want you because you’re everything.” You take her hand in yours. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing it to show ownership over you. That’s not something I want.”

“I want to be yours,” Natasha confesses quietly. “Just not like that.”

“I understand,” You nod. Natasha kisses your pouting lips. You smile. The notebook on the coffee table catches your eye. “So you’ve been doing the assignment.”

“I have,” Natasha glances at the paper. 

“It’s pretty eye-opening,” You say and she nods in agreement. “I didn’t think things were that bad for us. I mean, I know, we got a divorce. I just…it puts things into perspective.” 

“It does,” Natasha runs a hand through her hair. 

“I want this to work for us,” You admit. “I’m sorry. I am. I want us to work.”

“Me too,” Natasha kisses your lips again. “Did you bring your book? We could go over some of the questions now.”

“I did,” You say as you reach over her legs to the bags you brought. You pull out the book, cracking it open to the page you’ve written on, while Natasha opens hers. “So, I’ve realized a lot of these are things we’ve done at the beginning of our relationship. We seemed to enjoy each other then. Pre-kids I guess.”

“Hmm,” Natasha hums. 

“Okay, this question,” You go to one you haven’t answered yet. “Please be truthful. Don’t hold back because you think it’s going to hurt my feelings.” Natasha nods. She could do that. “Do you feel comfortable being yourself around your partner?”

Natasha bites her lip. “I have always felt I could be myself with you. There were times I didn’t think I could. That maybe I needed to play a part to, um, make you happy.”

“I felt the same way,” You mumble. “Nat, I’m -”

“You’re sorry that’s understandable,” She shakes her head. “It’s something we have to work on. I love you for you. I’ve always loved you for you.”

“I’ve always been attracted to everything about you,” You begin. “I’ve always loved your personality. Your tenacity. Your humor. Your ability to be vulnerable.” Natasha blushes under your intense gaze. She takes her pen to write a few things before moving on to the next question. 

“You rarely hug, hold hands, or touch each other in a non-sexual way,” She reads aloud. There’s a silence that neither of you breaks. “The butt rubs stopped.” She points out. 

“What?” You look at her in surprise. “I guess they have. Was that the first indicator that something was wrong with you?”

“It was one,” Natasha shrugs. “I just thought you needed space and it’s not always a sexual thing but we stopped touching each other. It wasn’t only you. I stopped too.”

“Damn,” You curse under your breath. “We could try it now? I mean, one of our exercises was extended cuddling time. Now would be the perfect opportunity.” You offer and Natasha likes that idea. She takes both notebooks to sets them down on the table. You lie down first and she crawls on top of you. Her head rests on your chest, your arms wrap around her waist, and you simply hold each other. Your shared breathing and warmth lull you to a place of comfort. Natasha wriggles her butt, silently asking for your hands on her, and you oblige. You reach down, and your right hand travels over the slope of her soft, supple behind, before you rub. It’s tentative touches at first. Just a simple swipe of your hand before your rubs turn into kneading. You massage the covered flesh in your hands and Natasha hums. 

“I missed this,” She mutters into your chest. She peeks her head up at you. Her eyes travel from your eyes to your lips. She follows through with whatever thought she’s having and she kisses you. Her kiss is gentle and reassuring. She lingers, her lips brushing against yours before she opens her eyes again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You kiss her again. “So much, Natasha.” She smiles widely. She can’t describe how happy she feels right now. She’s here with you, in your arms, and there’s no other place she’d rather be. Her happiness surges to something else entirely. Suddenly all she wants is you. She kisses you again, deeper, harder, this time it’s all teeth and tongue. She sucks her bottom lips into your mouth, eliciting a moan from deep inside you and your grip on her ass loosens. 

“We shouldn’t,” She breathes between kisses. 

“You’re right,” You nod in agreement. “Though she did say we could.”

“It’s not like we need permission,” Natasha smirks. “We’ve done this before.”

You shrug. She may be right. 

“Which means I know how to get creative,” You flip the both of you over in one swift move. You adjust Natasha against the pillows, her hair fanning out under her, as you lie beside her legs. “Interesting choice of attire today.”

“It was either this or the workout gear,” She laughs. 

“It’s okay, makes it more fun,” You take nimble fingers to the buttons of her blouse. Natasha watches as you unbutton to reveal her smooth skin. “Tell me to stop.” You say but she doesn’t say a word. 

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She challenges. You slide your fingers under her bra cap, feeling her nipple harden under your palm, and she shivers. 

“I’ve always liked you,” You joke and she nips at your chin. “I love you.” You correct and she hums. Much better. You twist her nipple, bordering on harsh, and Natasha practically jumps out of her skin. God, she’s missed this. You lean your head down, pushing the cup to the side, to suck her rosy nipple into your mouth. You swirl your tongue, alternating between licking and sucking and Natasha drops her head against the pillows again. You make sloppy sucking noises, only proving to turn her on further, as she rests a hand over your head to keep you there. “I want to make you cum.” You release her nipple with a pop. 

Natasha is a grown woman. She likes sex. She enjoys sex. She’s about to throw away all of her reservations and tell you to do whatever. You offer an alternative. You button her slacks, zipping them down far enough for your hands to reach inside and you slide in. Your fingers ghost over the lips of her panties, pushing to feel the wetness seeping through, and Natasha preens. 

“Like this then?” You say and she nods. That makes it more fun. You rake your nails over Natasha's pussy, finding the small nub peeking through the fabric, and you pay the most attention to that. Natasha arches her back and forces you to press against her deeper. “You like that baby?” You ask. “Is this what you wanted?” You ask as you work your magic through the cotton of her panties. Natasha nods her head, mouth open, eyes closed in complete pleasure. 

“Ngh,” She moans her words caught in her throat, as she rocks her hips into your fingers. It feels so damn good. This entire act may seem a bit immature but she doesn’t care. Your fingers are on her, practically inside of her, and even with the thin barrier of her underwear she feels everything. You are firm in your movements. You’re purposeful with every circling of your fingers. Your movements go from small tight circles to wide and rough as Natasha moans louder. “Yes,” She hisses between her teeth. “Yes.”She whines and you know she’s close. 

“Chase it, baby,” You encourage. “You’re so pretty like this. At my mercy.” You continue. “The perfect doll. So open and wet for me.” You kiss her bare shoulder, her neck, her chest. Anywhere you can reach. It feels so dirty here. The smell of her sex reaching your nose. The sound of shuffling and moving against the cushions is the only thing heard in the entire house. You want to give Natasha this. You need to give it to her. “My pretty girl. I want to make you my pretty wife again.” You find yourself saying and it’s the right thing. Natasha stiffens, and her left hand comes to grip your right arm as her hips thrust against your fingers. Even through her panties, you can feel the sudden gush of wetness from her. Natasha whimpers pitifully as you talk her through it. “That’s it, baby. I know. Your pussy feels so good.” You whisper closer to her ear. When she finally comes down, Natasha falls limp against the cushions and you catch her. You remove your fingers from her pants, resting them by her side, as you watch the rise and fall of her chest. Natasha opens her eyes a moment later, a bit startled by the fact that you’re watching her, and she shakes her head. You kiss her swollen lips. 

“You did so well for me,” You praise and delight in her skin turning into an even redder shade. “I liked seeing you cum.”

“Stop,” Natasha groans. You chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for your orgasm,” You deny her. “I had fun doing it. I’d like to do it again soon. Maybe with that strap, you’ve been asking for.”

“I’d like that.” Natasha nods. 

“This didn’t change things for you right?” You question and she tilts her head. “I mean to say that I meant what I said about making you my wife. It wasn’t just something I was saying to get you off.”

“It worked either way,” She quips. “I want that too. With you. Someday.”

“Good,” You smile. You trade kisses with Natasha, noting her sudden fatigue until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. You weren’t exactly intending to but you know you both need it. 

************

A few hours later you’re awakened by the sound of the front door unlocking. The kids are home. You awaken first, tapping Natasha awake, and she only nuzzles into your body further. She’s not ready to move away. 

“Unbelievable,” Yelena Belova’s voice interrupts your bliss. You both pop up to see the blonde standing over the two of you with a look of disgust on her face. “I can’t believe it.” Yelena shakes her head. 

“Mommy!” Emma and Ryan chorus. Natasha makes quick work of buttoning up her shirt and pants without them seeing. It’s Yelena who notices and shakes her head. 

“Is this why you wanted me to pick them up?” Yelena asks but then she drops Emma’s backpack onto the ground. “You know what, I’m leaving, I don’t even care.” She heads for the front door. You watch in trepidation as Natasha races after her. 

“Yelena,” Natasha calls after her younger sister. “Yelena, you’re acting like a child.”

“And you’re being stupid,” The woman insults. She turns back to Natasha with a disappointed look on her face. “You can’t think one quick fuck is going to make her stay. She left you. She left your kids. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Yelena, that’s enough,” Natasha speaks firmly. “You don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well I have eyes,” Yelena argues back. “ I think I can see.”

“She’s my wife,” Natasha pleads with her sister to understand. 

“No,” Yelena rants. “She’s your ex-wife that broke your heart.”

“And she’s trying to make things better,”

“And just like that, you believe her? You’re smarter than that, Natasha.” Yelena scolds her sister. Natasha doesn’t speak. “Don’t call me when she decides she doesn’t want to play house anymore.” Yelena walks away after that. 

Natasha watches as her sister gets into her car and drives down the street. How was she supposed to respond to that? She turns back toward the house to see you standing on the steps waiting for her. 

“That was intense,” You comment. Natasha nods. You hold out your arms for her to step into them. She hides her face in your neck. 

“Am I being stupid?” She mumbles into your neck and you almost miss it. 

“No, Natasha,” You assure her. 

“Don’t make me look stupid,” She pleads. “I won’t survive it this time.” 

“Me either,” You hold her. 

You wouldn’t give this up again. You understand that Natasha’s family has a right to be cautious. They have a right to hate you. You could only hope that they see that you’re trying.

---> next part

[vhstown]

miles away

— 1610!miles morales x gn!reader

summary: Long distance is hard — even more so when your boyfriend's mom is Rio Morales.

warnings: fluff, spanish that is hopefully right??? (pls feel free to correct if not)

word count: 2k

a/n: worst eboy known to man. another miles one-shot i thought of way too late at night lmao my boy miles is STRUGGLING somewhat edited

convention boy is online.

Miles was active: the cute boy you'd met at a Brooklyn science con last year and had been talking to for the past few months — your boyfriend? He might as well be, if it weren't for the absurd distance between you two. You almost missed the call icon with how fast you tapped it, buzzing with anticipation at the thought of speaking to him again; you hadn't talked properly in so long you almost thought he changed numbers.

Riiiiiing... Riiiiiing...

You stared at your own reflection, which was frowning back at you as the call rang for longer than usual. "Convention boy" (you'd definitely have to change that soon) was probably just busy, but your day had been infinitely boring, and you really wanted to talk to him. The both of you had chatted pretty much every day after you left Brooklyn, and despite the time difference, your calls went on for hours, making conversation about school, art, the science convention you were both forced to go to, how you almost got run over for the hundredth time — nothing and everything.

Miles probably knew more about you than your actual friends. You had jokes that nobody would be able to understand even if you tried explaining them, thousands pictures saved of each other, lots of random games you played together (that you always seemed to win somehow) and so many messages where you were flirting like you were in a middle school relationship; embarrassment was a foreign concept in your chat logs. The only thing you didn't have was... Miles himself.

He was in Brooklyn, probably the most exciting place right now. Maybe it was for the fact that Brooklyn had Spider-Man, or you were getting sick of living with your parents. Either way, you were glad you were getting out of here soon; your parents hadn't told you much, but you knew you were going to New York for school. That meant you'd be closer to Miles. Maybe you could even meet up — if Miles picked up, that is.

Beep, beep, beep!

The line went dead, and you were left staring at your own string of messages. They were read, but there was no response; he was ignoring you. Did he just... give up on you, or something? Was he no longer interested? Surely not... Should you try calling again?

He was offline now, and you flopped on your bed with a groan. It had been a whole week since you'd even texted — surely he'd let you know if something was up? It was late in New York right now, but that hadn't stopped him before. Maybe you'd try again tomorrow; he couldn't be available for you all the time.

That didn't stop you from being petty, though.

Missed voice call at 10:29PM

k Read 10:31PM

You gritted your teeth when you saw that it had been read, stopping yourself from typing another text as you rolled on your side, throwing your phone out of sight. Maybe you should ghost him — okay, you were definitely just being petty. He could still have a reason for being radio silent for so long that you just didn't know about.

The lack of his voice or even just a "hey" made you miss him, though, and the pillow you held just made your arms feel more empty than usual. You were being a little unreasonable, but you hadn't exactly had the best week. Maybe you should leave his contact name as it was, because right now it seemed like he didn't want to be anything more than some kid you met at a convention. And you thought he was supposed to be your boyfriend—

Bzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt! You reached for your phone, a preview of your own face coming up on screen. "convention boy" — he was video calling you? That was weird; as much as you did video call, he was always reluctant to turn his camera on, and he never started them. He was always "on a run" or on low battery or something; maybe he wasn't today? You realised you'd been staring at your own face for too long, scrambling to fix yourself up a little and accept the call before you missed it.

Miles' face appeared on screen; he had his headphones on, brows drawn together and eyes fixed somewhere else for a moment, before he looked back at his phone. He gave you the tiniest wave and that wonky smile that always made your stomach flip.

"Hey," you muttered, hating the fact that you probably didn't sound as mad as you wanted to be. "What's up with you? You okay?"

Miles just nodded silently, giving you another smile that looked more like a grimace before glancing off to the side again. Weird.

"...Are you sure?" you asked again, raising an eyebrow at him. Whatever Miles was trying to convince you of was completely thrown out the window, his lips pressing together in debate before he mouthed something. You couldn't make it out.

"Uh, what?" You squinted at the screen, your brows drew together even more in confusion.

"I'm GROUNDED," he mouthed again, his own brows raising to emphasise what he was trying to say. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

"You're GROUNDED?" you mouthed back, trying to keep the teasing smile from spreading across your face.

It didn't help, Miles' eye twitching a little in embarrassment as he mouthed back "YES!"

"So you're like, grounded grounded?" you continued to mouth, making Miles narrow his eyes at you. "Like, actually grounded?"

He didn't seem to entertain your mockery, just crossing his arms at you and moving away on his chair. His phone appeared to be propped up on his desk, and you caught a glimpse of his textbooks in the corner.

You gave up, rolling your eyes. "Fine, fine, but you can't like, speak at all?"

He shook his head, before you heard his door creaking open. The camera immediately went black as he shoved his phone underneath the textbooks before you had a chance to say anything.

"Mijo, what are you still doing up?" You could recognise the voice as his mom's. Oh boy.

"Uh, just studyin', ma." You could tell he was lying by the way he was speaking, but you stayed silent despite his headphones, hoping his mother didn't catch on.

"You better be studying Español, then." Miles laughed awkwardly in response, but you couldn't tell if it was a joke or a threat. He'd only ever referred to you as a "friend" to his mom, so you turned off your camera just in case, hoping Miles had some God to pray to in the mean time.

"Yeah, uh, estoy estudiado—"

"Estudiando", she corrected, with rapid execution. You decided she was scarier in Spanish, and Miles seemed to as well, murmuring something in apology you couldn't catch.

You decided to look through your notifications while Miles was keeping his mom at bay to see that he actually had texted you back after you sent that very creative message.

sry im grounded

i dint mean 2 ingore u

dnt be mad pls :(

He must've resorted to calling you. At least your pettiness had worked.

"Estoy estudiando..." (I'm studying...) you heard Miles continue carefully. "And tired, so I'll go to bed soon."

"That light better be off, niño," (boy) she replied, and you heard the door faintly creak again. A few moments passed before you heard Miles' chair move and the door very quietly shutting all the way before he retrieved his phone and looked down at it from his lap. You had no idea what on Earth Miles had done to get grounded, but the way his mom spoke to him and the worried expression he was wearing right now didn't tell you anything good.

Miles looked back at his door for a second longer before picking up his phone, hesitantly preparing to say something. If it weren't for your own tension, you would've probably laughed at the way his face looked from that angle.

"Why's your camera off?" you heard him whisper, his worried expression still stuck in place.

"Do you really need to see my face?" You decided to tease anyway, despite his predicament, getting a sigh out of him.

"Ba—" He winced as he caught himself, eyes automatically trailing to his door again. Miles was lucky he couldn't see your amused grin. Baby? Babe? Hopefully not basta—

"Please?" he mouthed, almost looking hurt.

You turned your camera on so quickly it was almost embarrassing. You also prayed it was dark enough for him not to see the blush burning away at your cheeks; you just couldn't say no when he looked at you like that.

"Thank you," he nearly whispered. He let out another breath, shaking his head and smiling before mouthing something you couldn't make out.

"Huh?" you asked way too many times as he tried to mumble it a little louder. Both of you were too stubborn to end the call, so it was like playing charades, but with someone who really sucked at charades. He was pointing to his face, and then at you, and then trying to draw it out in the air.

"Just text me," you sighed, letting out a slight chuckle at his defeated expression.

you look cute

Your stomach flipped, cheeks tingling with warmth again as you stared at the text message for far too long, almost forgetting Miles was in the corner of your screen.

"...Thanks, you too," you mumbled out, hoping you didn't sound too weird over the call. "You sure you don't wanna just text...?"

na

wnt2 see ur face

n hear u speak

A part of you wanted to decline right now out of sheer self respect; you were so hot in the face by his... simple words that the darkness of your room definitely couldn't hide how flustered you were.

"Fine," you murmured, trying to keep your eyes on the screen as he watched you. "Can't you at least try to text properly, though?"

Miles frowned, and you could hear the gentle tap of his fingers on the screen as another text followed.

tryin 2 keep up w u gimme a break

The two of you shared a smile before you talked for a bit through this awkward system. It was good enough for now; at least Miles didn't have to watch his back so often.

ur cute

"You already said that..."

cutie

"Dude." Miles seemed to forget you could see him, sporting the biggest, stupidest smile on his face as he scrambled to keep texting you.

dont call me dude

my pride

thought we were passed that

past*

convention boy is typing...

hol on gank is txting me

"Gank...?"

romm mmate

You decided to let it be, watching Miles' cheeks puff with air as he switched over to text his "romm mmate". It was taking a little long and you didn't want to start missing him when he was right in front of you (albeit just on your screen) so you decided to talk anyway.

"Uh, there's something I wanted to tell you," you started, and Miles' eyes flicked upwards for a second, kind of like if you were actually sat opposite him.

"I'm moving states soon — for school." He raised an eyebrow, the tapping of his fingers slowing down a little. "New York. I don't know where exactly, but I should be getting an email soon? I was thinking maybe we could like... meet."

Miles stopped texting entirely, eyes wide as a grin spread across his face.

"After you get uh, un-grounded."

The smile faded just as fast. His eyes fell in defeat, lips twisting awkwardly as he got back to texting "Gank".

"I haven't checked my emails in a while actually, let me see..."

You scrolled through your email— well, it was a shared email (an email you often deleted a lot of school-related stuff from.) An email you'd missed ages ago caught your eye; you assumed it was from the school you were supposed to go to, the sender titled "Ms. Weber."

"We would like you welcome you with open arms to our academy..." The email bored you with its formalities and packing list and many many flourished attachments. You didn't read through it properly — most likely because you didn't want to face the fact that you might actually miss your home here.

What caught your attention, though, was the school name; it was in Brooklyn. Miles was in Brooklyn.

"Miles — the school's in Brooklyn, that's even better!" You couldn't hide your giddy smile, Miles' eyebrows raising in interest as so many thoughts swirled through your head. You could actually meet up again. Maybe you could even go on dates that weren't to do with science conventions. Maybe you could actually be a couple.

Bzzt! Miles' text appeared at the top of your screen.

what school is it?

"Uh..." You paused, unintentionally dramatically as you checked the name again. "Brooklyn Visions Academy."

"WHAT?!"

Miles' mouth went agape as you saw him roll back on his chair, bringing his face towards the camera to look at you almost hysterically. You were about to ask why he was so taken aback before—

"¡MILES! ¡¿CON QUIÉN ESTÁS HABLANDO TAN TARDE?!" (WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO THIS LATE?!)

Maybe your meet-up would have to wait a little longer.

🕸️🔭🎧

omg this was ... longer than expected anyways i could not get this idea out of my head haha i wrote it partly for myself and my friend chewy (who helped me w the summary ily i suck at em) and now its for u! hope u enjoyed (also if the spanish is weird pls correct i literally take spanish as a subject but i suck)

reblogs appreciated as always i get so happy when ppl reblog lol <3 catch the rest of my atsv stuff here!

[forfucksakesniall]

"Breaking Point"

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Soft!Reader

Summary: In a world of fame, love, and shattered expectations, Lewis Hamilton and his partner find themselves at a crossroads. With tensions high and emotions raw, their relationship hangs in the balance.

Word Count: 2,519

Trigger warning/Content advisory: Possessiveness, arguments, emotional manipulation, intense emotions, privacy invasion, stalking, emotional conflict, verbal arguments, and intimate moments between characters. Reader discretion is advised.

Masterlist

Lewis Hamilton had another exhausting day with his meetings, leaving you with nothing to do. Bored, you checked your phone for any fun events in the area when suddenly a friend called.

"Where have you been??" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"What do you mean? I've been home all day," you replied, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, just being pampered at home," she retorted.

"Hey! He's not always home, this is our only time together, okay!" you defended yourself.

"Yeah, yeah," she giggled.

She convinced you to go out for dinner and a few drinks. Her argument made sense because you rarely got to spend time with Lewis due to his busy schedule.

You thought, "It's just a few hours. He's out too, and he'll be out late anyway. Maybe going out won't be so bad, right?" 

Oh, how wrong you were.

Lewis has always been the archetypal doting boyfriend-overprotective, always watching out for you. Some may find it weird, but to you, it's charming and perfectly acceptable. You understand that his fame attracts unwanted attention from the paparazzi. Now that you're a part of his life, being the private person that he is, it becomes even more challenging for him. The thought of others knowing about you creates anxiety within him. He constantly worries when he doesn't know your whereabouts or how you're doing.

You never want him to worry about you or add to the stress he already feels from his work. You make an effort to stay out of the public eye and avoid drawing attention online. However, people always manage to find a way.

Once, when you went out to buy groceries, they somehow discovered where you lived and began stalking you near your apartment. Since Lewis would always come over to hang out. When Lewis found out about it, he insisted that you move in with him to prevent any further incidents from happening.

But ever since that, You could proudly say that you've been quite successful in keeping a low profile these past few weeks.

You carefully picked a secluded spot that would shield you from any curious gazes.

As you prepared for dinner, you chose a delightful outfit and adorned yourself with some charming jewelry, courtesy of Lewis. You applied a touch of natural makeup and styled your hair with care. Just before leaving, you almost forgot to text Lewis that you were going out, but you remembered how easily he worries. So, you just grabbed your purse and headed out.

Your friends arrived to pick you up, and together you went on your date night to the restaurant, eager for a delightful night.

After what felt like an eternity, you were having the most incredible night. It was a blissful escape from the daily routine, surrounded by ambient music and a crowd of people absorbed in their own affairs.

Phone rings, displaying Lewis's name

Lewis: Hey, baby, our plans might wrap up sooner than anticipated. Want me to pick up dinner for us? 10:30pm

Lewis: I'll grab our favorite vegan dishes from that spot we tried last week. 10:45pm

Lewis: Are you busy? 10:57pm

Lewis: Baby?? 11:10pm

Missed call from Lewis (1)

Missed calls from Lewis (3)

You had become completely engrossed in the joyous moments, losing track of time. When you attempted to check the time on your phone, it refused to open. "Oh no," you exclaimed, a shiver running down your spine and draining the blood from your face. Your friends noticed your distressed voice and asked about the issue. "My phone died," you replied, filled with worry.

Lewis parked his car and hastened to your shared apartment, a sense of unease enveloping him as you failed to answer your phone. Trying to stay optimistic, he hoped that you had simply fallen asleep or were occupied in the bathroom. As he swung open the apartment door, he called out your name with a tinge of anxiety in his voice. "Baby? I'm home!" he exclaimed. He searched the kitchen, then the bedroom, followed by the bathroom, and finally the balcony, but you were nowhere to be found.

After pleading with your friends for a ride and insisting on not taking a cab alone, you finally arrived at your apartment. Countless thoughts raced through your mind.

What if Lewis has been trying to reach you and you haven't responded?

What if he's already home?

Or what if he's not here yet, but right behind you?

You pondered the worst-case scenarios, but little did you know, things were about to take a turn for the worse. As you stumbled towards the door, searching for your keys and fumbling with your purse, it swung open, revealing Lewis, his face twisted with anger, his jaw tight, and his eyes ablaze with intensity. The air grew heavy with tension as if a storm had materialized right before you, threatening to engulf everything in its path.

"Took you long enough," he commanded sternly, his voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

"I didn't know you'd be home early," you responded calmly, trying your best not to trigger any further conflict.

"You would have known if you had stayed where you were supposed to be," he retorted sharply.

"I just needed a break," you admitted your voice barely a whisper, filled with vulnerability.

"You should have told me! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!" His voice grew louder, filled with frustration.

"I went out with my friends, Lewis. I'm fine, really. I came back safely," you assured, attempting to stay composed despite the growing tension. However, your throat began to ache from suppressing your emotions.

"Why didn't you answer your phone? Are you ignoring me on purpose? Are you that sick of having me around? " he questioned, his tone laced with disappointment.

"You know I wouldn't ignore you. Why would you even say that?" Tears welled up in your eyes, fighting hard to prevent them from cascading down your cheeks.

"What then?" he interjected, his voice dripping with impatience. His frustration hung in the air, suffocating any kind of hope. 

"Why can't you just be more considerate of my feelings? I give you everything, and all I ask for is a little communication, a little respect."

The weight of his words bore down on you, threatening to shatter the fragile balance between you. You searched for the right words, your mind racing to find a way to bridge the growing tension. But in the depths of your heart felt unsure and hesitant, wavering in your determination, mingling with the ache of the things left unsaid.

"You don't understand," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and desperation. "I need space sometimes. I need moments where I can breathe and be myself, without constantly feeling the need to be watched."

His eyes grew cold, a storm brewing within them. "And what about my needs?" he shot back, his voice sharp and cutting. "Are they not important? Am I just supposed to stand by and watch you drift away?"

"That's not what I meant," you hurriedly responded, your voice tinged with unease. "It's not about neglecting your needs, but understanding that I also have my own."

His gaze intensified, his doubts apparent. "What do you think people will say about me being that kind of boyfriend?"

Silence hung heavy between you, the tension pulsating with every passing second. The room seemed to shrink, walls closing in as the weight of unspoken words grew unbearable. Your chest tightened, emotions swirling like a tempest, threatening to unleash a torrent of tears.

"I never wanted it to be like this," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, filled with regret and longing. “We can't keep avoiding this situation where you tell me what to do and expect me to always be doing it. I'm my own person too. 

"We'll end up secretly hating and hurting each other."

The weight of truth hung in the air, difficult to accept. Both of you stood at a crucial crossroads, where important choices awaited and raw emotions demanded attention. The room was filled with an intense conflict, a tension that pushed your fragile love to its limits.

Lewis, consumed by anger, seemed oblivious to the hurt he caused with his words. "Damn it," he muttered quietly, avoiding your gaze. Without saying another word, he left the bedroom and retreated to the bathroom.

How could he let himself slip like that? You had been patient, kind, and loving towards him. He knew he was in the wrong, but his overwhelming emotions prevented him from apologizing. Trying to calm himself, he splashed water on his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror. 

"She doesn't deserve this," he whispered to himself, a decision taking shape in his mind, one that he feared he might regret.

Left bewildered by his sudden departure, your mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts:

Maybe he's finally had enough of your indecisiveness.

Why couldn't you have simply told him where you were going?

Why don't you speak up for yourself more often?

Why do you let things affect you so deeply?

Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed onto the bed.

"Why are you crying? There's no reason to... Don't be so sensitive," you whispered to yourself, drowning in self-doubt. But before negativity consumes your thoughts entirely, his arms embrace you tightly, his head resting atop yours.

"I... I didn't mean any of that..." Lewis stammered, regret evident in his voice. Your emotions were overwhelming, preventing you from articulating the words you desired to say.

"I know I can be overly protective, putting you in difficult situations," Lewis acknowledged in his attempt to alleviate the tension only making matters worse.

"I understand you don't want that, but considering the circumstances, it's necessary," you replied, struggling to find the right words.

"But it shouldn't be..." Lewis hesitated, realizing the weight of his words. "Wouldn't it be better if it didn't have to be this way?"

"What do you mean?" you asked your heart racing, fearing the worst.

"I never wanted to be the one to stop you from your dreams or become an obstacle instead of an opportunity," Lewis confessed, his voice filled with resignation.

Is he breaking up with me? It can't be happening…

A wave of numbness washed over you, bringing a temporary calmness. Your breathing steadied, your trembling hands stilled, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

So that's it…

"Okay," was all you managed to utter, the weight of acceptance heavy in your voice.

With words hanging in the air, a profound silence settled between you and Lewis. The room seemed to hold its breath as if anticipating the next chapter of your story together.

Unable to bear the void any longer, Lewis gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. In his eyes, you saw a mix of regret, longing, and a spark of hope. Without speaking a word, he reached out, interlacing his fingers with yours, offering a comforting touch amidst the emotional turmoil.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, (Y/N)," Lewis finally broke the silence, his voice filled with sincerity. 

"You mean everything to me, and the thought of me causing you this is unbearable."

A flicker of vulnerability danced across his face, revealing the depth of his emotions. It was a side of him you had rarely witnessed before, reminding you of the fragile nature of love and the complexities that come with it.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again, but this time they held a different quality. They were tears of release, of letting go of the pain that had momentarily consumed you. You realized that, at this moment, you both were allowing yourselves to be vulnerable, to expose your fears and doubts, in the hopes of finding solace in each other's embrace.

You took a deep breath, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. 

"Lewis, I understand that we both have our struggles and fears. We're trying to get through some unfamiliar issues together."

"But I don't want to lose you," you confessed, your voice steady yet laced with vulnerability.

His strong yet comforting grip embraced you, providing a sense of security amidst the swirling doubts. As his fingers intertwined with yours, a warmth spread through your hand, soothing your troubled heart.

 "I don't want to lose you either, (Y/N)," he spoke with conviction, his voice resonating like a melodic whisper. "You're the light of my life, filling my days with endless joy and warmth. I made some mistakes along the way, but I promise to learn from them and grow with you."

In that tender moment, he cradled your face, his touch delicate and gentle. His eyes locked with yours, shimmering with filled promises. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the spark between your lips.

In that tender moment, he cradled your face, his touch delicate and gentle. His eyes locked with yours, shimmering with filled promises. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the spark between your lips.

As the intensity of the moment lingered, you felt a wave of emotions crashing over you. The remains of the fight slowly faded, an undeniable pull drew you closer to each other. Slowly, his fingers traced the contour of your cheek, his touch leaving a trail of warmth. With every caress, the tension began to dissolve, replaced by a renewed sense of longing and desire.

Your breaths intertwined, matching the want from each other. A silent agreement to let go of the past and embrace the present moment. His lips, soft and tender, met yours in a gentle kiss, making up all of the emotions that words could never capture.

As the kiss deepened, the flames of passion were ignited, consuming both of you. Lips moved in perfect harmony, exploring each other with increasing hunger and intensity. Your bodies gravitated closer, craving the intimate connection that only this moment could give. Hands roamed, eagerly exploring the contours of each other's bodies, conveying a renewed sense of desire and longing.

You both slowly sank into the softness of the bed, never breaking the intoxicating embrace. The world outside ceased to exist as your bodies melded together, entangled in a passionate dance. 

In this moment of vulnerability and surrender, the boundaries between you blurred, and all that remained was the raw and unfiltered expression of love. Each touch, each kiss, became a part of your chapter, the ups, and downs, the fights and reconciliations. And as you surrendered to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions, you knew that despite the challenges, your love would always triumph, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each passing moment.

The chapter of your love story remained unwritten, the outcome uncertain. But as your gazes locked once more, there was a flicker of hope. It was a silent promise, a shared understanding that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but also with the potential for growth, forgiveness, and a love that could weather any storm.

Disclaimer: The following piece is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

[youre-a-total--poser]

Hi there

Can I please request a WandaNat and reader daughter please?

Natasha is our mum and is worried about us at school when we show up with a black eye.

Natasha's girlfriend Wanda is a teacher at a private school and gets us in. But finds out we have dyslexia and both women work hard to help us get up to the right reading level.

Or something. I'm not really sure, but anything you come up with will be amazing I'm sure 😉

Love your work ..... Happy thanksgiving !

Warnings: mentions of bullying and some other stuff.

Age: 15

Word Count: 1,133

Requests: Open

Summary: Read the request and it will explain everything

Requested by: @m0use123

Date: 23/02/2024

paring: Natasha and Wanda

A/N: Thank you for your request I hope that you like it even though it's not great but it just be like that sometimes.

Also Happy very very late Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year and whatever other holidays have passed since you sent in your request.

---⧗---

There used to be a time, believe it or not when you loved going to school but ever since you started high school everything changed.

You somehow managed to find yourself being the main target for the bullies in your year. Maybe it was because they found out that you were an Avenger's daughter who had no special abilities or that there was something wrong with your brain that constantly made you mess up on words when you had to read aloud in class.

They convinced you that you were worthless and that you would never achieve anything in life.

---⧗---

It was the last class of the day which happened to be gym and of course, your gym teacher thought it was a brilliant idea to have a game of dodgeball.

It was a disaster from the moment the game started. The bullies seemed to only be throwing the balls at you and either the teacher didn't notice or just didn't care but he didn't interfere once that was until one of them threw the ball right at your eye and you spent the rest of the class sitting on the bench holding an ice pack to your eye.

Finally, the torture ended and you made it home without any other injuries apart from the very swollen soon-to-be black eye.

You stood outside the door with the key in your hand hoping that your mom wouldn't be there. You knew that she was going to see it eventually it's not like that you just avoid her completely for the next week or so while it healed.

Just in case she was in there you put up your hood and then unlocked the door.

You walked into the apartment and of course, your mom was sitting on the couch but she was on her laptop hopefully she's distracted enough for you to quickly get past her without her saying anything.

"How was school baby?" Natasha asked.

"Fine." You responded continuing to walk to your room.

You had done it you managed to get past her without her saying anything.

"Stop right there Y/N," Natasha said standing up and walking over to you.

Well, you got away with it for a while 10 seconds.

You still had your back towards her. She pulled down your hood then gently placed her hands on your shoulders and turned you around to face her.

Natasha let out a sharp gasp when she saw the bruised eye. She put her finger under your chin and lifted your head to get a better look

"What happened? Who did this?" she asked with a mix of anger and worry in her voice.

"It's fine mama." You said pushing her hand away. "It was just a dodgeball accident."

"Was it the same kids who have been bullying you?" Natasha asked.

You responded by nodding your head.

"Unbelievable," Natasha mumbled. "Give me their names I'm going to call the school again in the morning."

While you were giving Natasha the names of the kids. The front door opened and Natasha's girlfriend Wanda walked in. "What's going on?" She asked.

"See for yourself," Natasha said moving out of the way.

Wanda walked over to you “Oh my god… are you okay?” She asked.

You nodded your head as Wanda put her arm around you and rubbed your arm gently.

“It really was just an accident. I should have been paying more attention or something.” You said trying to downplay what happened.

"No Y/N, this isn't your fault they were purposely aiming at you," Natasha said putting a bag of something very close to your face.

You moved your head away unaware of what she was doing.

"It's just a bag of frozen peas for your eye Y/N," Natasha said

"Oh, okay." You said as Natasha gently pressed the bag onto your eye.

You didn't even notice her going into the kitchen to get them so she must have used her mom's powers to magically summon them.

"Since you're already in a bad mood, I think that it's now a good time to show you something."

"Show me what?" Natasha asked.

You put the bag of frozen peas on the unit, picked up your bag took out your most recent English test paper and handed it to your mom with the score facing down.

She looked at the paper and let out a loud sigh. "Really Y/N 12 out of 45 that's not good enough.

"Honestly I'm surprised that I even got that much right."

You looked at your mom and she looked back at you with that unamused look that she does.

"Wow, tough crowd." You mumbled.

"This is the third test in test in the past week that you have failed Y/N what am I going to do with you."

"It's not my fault that the bullying is causing me so much stress that I can't concentrate and I couldn't remember anything that I was reading." You said picking up the bag of frozen peas and holding it against your eye.

"I know honey but it's the only school that's close enough. The next public school is 2 hours away and I don't have time to drive you there and back every day." Natasha said.

"What about the private school that I work at?" Wanda chimed in. "I can ask the principal if there is a space available."

"I was thinking more of homeschooling but I guess that works too." You said removing the bag of peas away from your eye.

"Well, it better be since I'm not homeschooling you," Natasha said as she took the bag from you and walked into the kitchen.

"Don't worry Y/N there is zero tolerance for bullying so that's one less thing to worry about," Wanda told you.

"I hope so." You mumbled.

---⧗---

It took three months of waiting and suffering at the public school then a space became available for you. The school even had a policy that children of the facility got in for free but even though you weren't related to Wanda the principal made an exception just for you.

Your grades started to improve after a week of being at the new school but not as good as what everyone would have liked them to be.

You were still finding reading and spelling difficult so you were given an appointment to speak to the student support teacher and after lots of different types of tests, it suddenly became clear as to why you were struggling so much. You were diagnosed with dyslexia.

The student support teacher provided you with different types of materials to help you improve and you were given more time, a reader and a scribe during tests to give you that extra support to help you succeed.

Taglist

@knox145 // @dogtamer415 // @romanoffliviv

Go HERE to be added to the taglist

[tuiccim]

Though I Have Never Read It (Part 10 - Final)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4112

Warnings: Fluff, angst.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

Though I Have Never Read It Masterlist

Bucky fed you, encouraged you to rest, and left you to let you sleep. You wanted to beg him to stay, to hold you through the night, and make it all better. You didn’t think you’d sleep but you were wrong. The exhaustion of the past week caught up with you and you didn’t even remember your head hitting the pillow. You slept deeply and woke at the time you would normally have an alarm set for. Deciding to find a project in the hangar to get lost in, you dress and head that way. 

You find a mess of work that had piled up while you had been out caring for Eva. Normally, it would frustrate you but today you were grateful for the distraction. You lost yourself in it, forgetting everything else, and going time blind until your phone dinged late in the afternoon with a text from Mark. 

Mark: Hey. Everything is set for tomorrow night. I’ll meet you at seven. How does Athena’s sound? You: Sounds good. See you then. 

You answer him almost by rote. A message you had sent him many times. You check your phone, hoping you had missed a text from Bucky but nothing was there. As you had told him everything last night, you had hoped he would say something. If you were honest, you had wanted him to tell you not to do this, that he felt something for you. You had wanted him to fight for you and he didn’t. Was that your answer? If he had real feelings for you, wouldn’t he have? You shake your head to clear it before starting work again. You wanted to lose yourself as you had before but the questions rolled through your brain over and over again. Were you being the stupid one? Maybe he didn’t want to take your chance with Eva away and it was you that needed to take that first step. 

Hours later, as your head ached from debating with yourself, you sit back from the engine you were working on. You made up your mind that when you and Bucky went to the farmer’s market  tomorrow morning, you would tell him how you felt afterwards. Thoroughly exhausted from the day of work and the mental gymnastics you had put yourself through, you make yourself a quick sandwich, take a shower, and go to bed.  Sleep is fitful through the night and you wake feeling heavy. The weight of your thoughts pressing on you. 

Your stomach is in knots and your nerves are jittering under your skin as you get ready to go to the market. Taking a little extra care with your appearance, you stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment before grabbing your basket and going to meet the group. Natasha and Wanda are waiting in the kitchen when you appear. The three of you chat while waiting for the guys. You looked up expectantly when Sam walked in but he was alone. 

“Where’s Steve and Bucky?” Natasha asks Sam. 

“They went out on their motorcycles earlier this morning. Bucky said something about needing a distraction,” Sam shrugs as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “We’re still going to the market, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Wanda says. 

They all seem to miss your absolute devastation. You quickly mask your feelings and follow everyone out. You're lost in thought for most of the walk while Wanda and Sam chatter with the occasional comment from Natasha. Your mind runs amok wondering what kind of distraction they were looking for. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find one should he want that. You jerk your head at the thought, trying to force it from your brain. 

“Are you okay?” Natasha drops back from the other two, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“Fine. You?”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, “What’s going on?”

“I just have a lot on my mind. It’s been a long week,” you avoid her question.

“If you need to talk about it…” She lets herself trail off. 

“I appreciate that. I’m gonna grab some produce.” You smile and move away from the group. You browse the stands and come upon one of your favorites, but rather than joy, you find yourself nearly in tears as you stare at the heads of cabbage. Recalling when you had last made sausage and cabbage to share with Bucky. 

God, why was everything about your relationship with him so complicated? From the beginning in that cabin, to meeting him again, the secrets, and then finally finding a comfortable place with each other. And then Mark takes the simple relationship you have and wants to complicate it. You hated all of this. You hadn’t spoken to Bucky since you told him about Mark’s request. He hadn’t asked you not to. You thought he had feelings for you, but what if you were wrong? You thought back to that night, trying to find some hint, something that would give you answers. You thought through Mark’s request and Bucky’s reactions. You thought about the chance to be with Bucky and the life you could have being a family with Mark and Eva as you shopped. 

“What does your heart say?” The voice of your best friend breaks through your thoughts. She could have been standing right next to you for the clarity you hear it with. And then, “What is your heart telling you?” Comes through in Bucky’s voice just as clearly. You laugh and shake your head, probably looking absolutely mad to anyone watching you in the crowd. The answer to that question is the hardest thing to figure out and you had to by dinner tonight. 

—

The wind whipped past Bucky as he sped along the roadway with Steve close on his heels. They had been driving for hours and still Bucky hadn’t found the distraction or peace his mind craved. He was consumed with losing you. You would be giving Mark his chance and being a mom to Eva. He couldn’t stand in the way of that. It would be barbaric to pile onto your already heavy load by confessing his own feelings. He just couldn’t do that to you. 

Steve’s bike pulled ahead momentarily and he signaled for Bucky to stop. They pulled over at one of the state park’s scenic spots where a couple of benches overlooked a view of the water. Bucky pulls off his helmet and looks over the beauty in front of him, wishing he could share this with you. He drops his head at the thought and berates himself for not being able to let go. 

“You ready to talk yet?” Steve’s voice drifts over to him from where he’s standing. 

Bucky walks over to him and stares out over the expanse, “She and Mark are getting together. So they can be a family for Eva.”

“That’s rough. I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve puts a hand on his shoulder.

Bucky shrugs, “Just my luck, right?”

“Is that all she said when you told her how you felt?”

“Well, uh…” Bucky scratches the back of his neck, “I didn’t exactly tell her.”

“What? Bucky!” Stave gapes at his best friend. “You didn’t tell her?!?”

“She had just gotten back from their place. She was exhausted and upset. Mark asked her for a chance to be a family. I can’t come between her and them and I didn’t want to add more to her burden. What was I supposed to say? Hey, I know you want to be Eva’s mom and this is your chance, but would you be willing to give that up for me? Some broken down ex-assassin whose mind is precarious at best?”

“You shouldn’t think of yourself like that,” Steve says softly. 

“All the better for her. She doesn’t need me messing up her life,” Bucky sighs.

“Why don’t you let her decide that?”

“I can’t come between her and Eva, Steve!” Bucky says, frustrated. 

“Damnit, Buck! It’s not like she would never see Eva again! You aren’t taking that away. You would just be giving her another option. A different chance at happiness. Don’t be an idiot!” Steve all but shouts. 

“You don’t understand!” Bucky yells back and turns away. 

“I do, Buck! I know what it’s like to lose someone over a stupid decision. You just need to tell her!” Steve sees Bucky shaking his head and his frustration boils over, “Why? Why can’t you just tell her?!?”

Bucky turns back to him, eyes red-rimmed and shouts, “Because I don’t think I could stand it if she didn’t…” He stops, looking down and shaking his head. 

“Choose you? Feel the same? …Buck, if what I’ve seen is any indication, she feels the same. Don’t lose her over a hypothetical.”

“It’s not that simple. I wish to God it was,” Bucky stalks back to his bike, revs it, and takes off. 

Steve follows him. He didn’t want him to be alone right now.

–

Your mind was made up; head held high, shoulders square, and your nerves an absolute wreck as you reach the door and walk through the entrance of Athena’s. The casual diner was a popular spot and there was a bit of a crowd but you spotted Mark sitting in a booth as you did a quick survey. He was smiling up at Maia, the third generation owner of the joint. Her grandmother, Athena, had started the place in the 60s and worked in the kitchen until she handed the reins over to Maia’s mother, Phoebe. Maia was fairly young for a restaurant owner but she had worked every position in the place and always made sure to greet her regulars. You could just make out their conversation as you walked over. 

“Where’s Eva?” Maia asked Mark. 

“Oh, she’s with my mom tonight. Grown-ups only dinner tonight. We have some things to talk over,” Mark says. 

“Everything okay?” Maia tilts her head inquisitively. 

“Yeah, just catching up, ya know?” Mark answers. Clearly neither had noticed your approach, so you hang back for a second. 

“Well, you’ll have to bring Eva by soon. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. She’s so precious. I love that kid,” Maia smiles. 

“Really? Yeah, I’ll do that. She loves your crunchy honey. That’s what she calls the baklava,” he laughs. 

“That’s adorable! Well, I’ll be sure to bring you both a piece when you come,” Maia shifts as she speaks, putting you in Mark’s line of sight. 

“Oh, hey!” Mark notices you. 

“Hey Mark. Maia, how are you?” You slide into the booth. 

“Great. Booming really,” Maia replies. 

“And well deserved,” you smile, “The place looks great. Did you paint the bar?”

“Yes. Just freshening things up a little,” Maia looks around the place proudly. 

“I thought something seemed different. It looks great,” Mark pipes in.

“Thanks. Well, I let you guys get to your dinner,” she waves over a waiter but turns back to Mark before walking away, “I look forward to seeing Eva and you guys soon.”

You order a drink and peruse the menu. It was almost pointless, you knew the menu well but you were stalling. Glancing up at Mark’s nose buried in the menu, you smirked at the thought that he was doing the same. No matter what, this wouldn’t be easy. You make small talk, order your meals, and then there’s nothing but open air between you. 

“How, uh, how was the rest of your week?” Mark asks. 

“Busy. There was a mess of work to do when I got back and then the team and I went to the market this morning. I did some meal prep today. You know, same old song. How about you?” You ask, your nerves buzzing under your skin.

“Yeah, luckily I can work remotely for a lot of things but I’m pretty sure when I get into work on Monday there is going to be some catching up to do,” Mark nods.

“Do you think Eva is good to go back to school?” You ask, concerned. 

“I think so but her teacher and I have emailed and she’s going to keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t get overtired. Mom’s not far from the school if Eva needs to be picked up.”

“Well, you know if she needs any help…” You let the words trail off. 

“I know. Thank you,” Mark’s voice softens as he looks at you with a loaded expression. 

You feel your palms begin to sweat as you know what’s coming. You weren’t ready. 

“I-”

“Of course,” you say the words more forcefully than necessary and then give a breathy little laugh. “Um, I mean, you know, I’m always happy to be there for Eva.”

“Right,” Mark gives you a small smile, the look in his eyes telling you he understood your nerves and it helps you relax. You exhale for what feels like the first time since you sat down. It’s Mark, he’s your friend, your family, and everything was going to be okay. 

You smile at him as you calm yourself and then apologize, “I’m sorry. I interrupted you. Please go ahead.”

Mark lets out a short laugh, “I’m the one that needs to apologize to you.”

You look at him askew, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been really unfair to you.”

“No, Mark. You haven’t,” you reassure him. 

“I have,” he says firmly. “It wasn’t right of me to ask you what I did. I mean, it makes sense from a purely logical level. We’re great friends, you love Eva, Eva loves you, and it would make things easy. For me, that is. But, I, um, realized something. I’ve had the love of my life and she’s gone now. So, for me, I’m not risking anything going into this relationship. I’m getting everything and not giving up a thing. I don’t want it for myself though, I want it for Eva. I want her to have the best of everything and you are. You are an amazing mother figure to her and you will be whether or not we are a traditional family. She’s a lucky kid.”

“Lucky to have you for a dad, too,” you smile at him. 

“Thanks. Look, I don’t know what you thought about this stupid idea but I’m sorry. I’m sure it put you in a weird headspace. After I asked you, I kept thinking about how much I loved her and I wondered if you had ever felt that. I found the love of my life. I got to marry her and have a beautiful little girl. I got to be truly happy, even if it was shorter than I wished, than I’d wish on anyone,” Mark blinks as if fighting back tears and clears his throat. “So, I can’t take that possibility away from you. I can’t steal your future happiness. You haven’t found the love of your life, yet, and you need to have that. Wait… have you? Found… I mean-”

He didn’t know it but, in that moment, Mark healed a little bit of your brokenness. He had given you reassurance that you deserved love, deserved that chance, and it was something you hadn’t even realized you needed to hear. You laugh as happy tears fill your eyes, “Um, I don’t know… but I think I might have. Maybe…” You trail off as doubt begins to take hold again. 

“Maybe?” Mark prompts with raised eyebrows. 

“I told him about us. About this. I thought… I thought he’d say something. I thought he’d fight for me or, at least, tell me how he feels but he didn’t. He just let me go-”

“Your meals,” the waiter announces as he sets your plates down in front of you. 

“Uh, thank you,” you stammer. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” The waiter asks with his best customer service smile. 

“No, thank you,” Mark says and immediately turns back to you. “Maybe he let you go in hopes that you’d come back to him.”

You scoff, “I doubt it.”

“Or maybe he was hoping you would fight for him. Did you tell him how you felt?” Mark asks. 

“No, I was going to but he left this morning. To find a distraction,” you roll your eyes bitterly. Images of Bucky finding that distraction with another woman came unbidden to your mind and you force yourself to push them away. 

“A distraction? What does this mean?” Mark looks at you concerned. 

“He and his best friend went out on their motorcycles,” you shrug. 

“Sounds like he needed to talk to his best friend. I mean, Bucky’s a good guy. I doubt he’ll do anything stupid,” Mark says the name slyly and his guess is confirmed when your head jerks up. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “How did you know?”

“You talk about him a lot. Eva even talks about him. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Look, I’ve never met the guy but he’s an idiot if he’s anything but interested. Let’s finish dinner and then you go back home, find him, and talk about it. Easier said than done, I know, but, if he is the love of your life, it’s worth the risk.”

You smile at your friend, “You’re right. After all, I do believe my best friend told this one guy she was friends with that she had a massive crush on him and it ended up working out pretty well for her.”

“Once he picked his jaw up off the floor since he thought she was so far out of his league. Yeah, I think it did,” Mark smiles, remembering the moment he realized he had found the one. 

“Thank you, Mark,” you reach across and squeeze his hand. 

“Anything for my best friend. Now, let’s eat before our food is cold and we insult Maia,” he winks. 

You dig in and the two of you talk about everything and nothing. The same easy friendship that had been yours for years reestablished. You were laughing at one of Mark’s stupid dad jokes when your phone rings. 

“Who is it?” Mark asks after seeing a strange expression on your face. 

“It’s Bucky,” you reply, looking at him with furrowed brow. 

“Answer it.”

“He-hello??

“Doll!” Bucky’s frantic voice comes through the phone.

“What’s wro-”

“I can’t let you do this!” Bucky interrupts. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get in the way but I can’t let you do this,” Bucky says. “Please give me a chance to explain. I tried to make it back there in time but I’m an idiot and I can’t. Please-”

“Bucky. It’s okay. We can talk. Where are you?”

Mark smirks while whispering, “Guess he decided to fight for you.”

You glance at him as a joyful laugh bubbles up, “I guess he did.”

Bucky’s voice comes through the phone, “I’ll be at the compound in less than an hour. Am I too late?”

“I’ll meet you there,” you confirm. 

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice betrays his fear. 

“You’re late, Barnes. You’ll have to wait to know the answer. See you soon.”  You’re giddy as you hang up. 

“Torturing the guy a little bit, huh?” Mark laughs. 

“Maybe a little,” you laugh. “He can take it.”

Mark nods, “You know what? I got this,” he gestures to the food, “Go.”

You can tell he’s holding in his laughter, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I look forward to hearing about all this,” Mark grins.

You slide out of the booth and make your way to the door. You glance back to give Mark a final wave and bump right into Maia. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Maia looks at you strangely.

“My fault, sorry,” you reassure her.

“Everything okay?” Maia asks with a lift of an eyebrow. 

“Better than okay. I just have to go,” you can’t help smiling, heat stealing into your cheeks. 

“Oh, um,” Maia grins. “Can I ask…” she falters for a moment but then glances back to Mark before looking you full in the face, “You and Mark?”

Your mouth drops open as you realize what she’s asking, “Never! We’re just friends. His wife was my best friend.” 

“So, he’s single?” She asks nervously. Maia knew Mark was a widower but apparently was unsure of your status with him. 

You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face, “You should give him your number. Actually, would you mind keeping him company for me?”

“I might just do that,” Maia smiles and ducks her head. 

“See ya later, Maia,” you rush to your car and book it to the compound. You make it there in record time and decide you’d rather wait for Bucky in your room, away from curious eyes and ears. It was a nerve wracking 20 minutes of pacing, waiting for Bucky to appear. For the second time that day, you were a bundle of nerves. You jumped when the knock finally sounded. You pull it open and you and Bucky just stare at each other. He smells of leather and forest and sunshine. You just take him in for a moment, the chestnut brown hair, full lips, and cerulean eyes. “Hi,” you whisper. 

“Hi,” he gives a small smile. “Am I too late?”

“Come in,” you say instead of answering and pull him through the door. 

“Doll?” Bucky seems desperate for you to answer him. 

“You asked for a chance to explain. So… explain,” a sadistic side of you was enjoying torturing him just a little.

“I went out for a ride. Steve and I did and we drove for hours. Steve kinda knocked some sense into me. I never want to come between you and Eva or Mark. I realize you might have chosen Mark, but I couldn’t let you do it. Not without telling you how I feel. Not without telling you that I love you. I know I’m nothing compared to them but I love you so much. I would never-”

You reach up to cover Bucky’s lips and stop his tirade, “I know you wouldn’t. You’re not nothing, you’re everything. And I love you, too. ”

He stares at you in disbelief for a moment. You let your fingers slide from his mouth to caress his cheek. You glance down at his mouth and then back up to those beautiful eyes. When his lips finally descended on yours, it was as if you were starving for each other. Your bodies were finally giving into an indulgence that you’d waited years to taste again and you didn’t want to part. He clutched at you, relief and joy mixed with the desperation flowing through him. 

When your lips finally part, you press yours to his neck and, this time, it’s your voice that whispers the desperate plea against his skin, “Please.”

He was just as gentle as you remembered and this time you allowed yourself to indulge in him. Not hidden under blankets in a tiny bed, you revel in his body and touch. He studied every arch and moan as his hands and mouth played over you. You called his name as you came and it was enough to send him over the edge, whispering I love you as he fell. 

As you laid together, tangled in the sheets, with hands playing over each other, you told him about how the evening went with Mark. How Mark had apologized and how you had reassured each other. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky says after you finish. 

“Anything,” you affirm.

“What was your decision? Before you got there?” Bucky seems to hold his breath as he waits for your answer. 

“That I love Mark and I love Eva, they’re my family. But it’s not the kind of love that you build a marriage around. More than that, I couldn’t ignore the feelings I have for you. I knew I would have to tell you and let the chips fall where they may. I was disappointed when you didn’t ask me not to go to Mark but I realized that you were trying to not complicate things for me,” you explain. 

“I don’t ever want to come between you and Eva,” Bucky reiterates. 

“I know but promise me you’ll never do that again. Always tell me how you feel. Promise?”

“Promise,” Bucky says, kissing the side of your head. “Right now, I feel amazing.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help smiling.

“Mm-hm, and you feel amazing,” Bucky says as he rubs his hands over you. 

“Anything else to say?” You ask. 

“Just one thing…” Bucky whispers with his lips against your neck. 

“What’s that?” You moan. 

“Please.”

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