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buttercupjosh · 1 year

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Unexpected Love (the 4 times Cale surprised you + the 1 time you surprise him)

(Gif credit by @9116)

word count: 3,240

warnings: none

Genres: Strangers to lovers, fluff, self insert

A/N: I decided to step a bit out of my comfort zone a lot for this story. I participated in @antoineroussel’s Winter Fic Exchange and this is my story for @wildrangers, written with the extremely talented Cale Makar. I hope that you like it. I’m sorry in advance that it kinda speed runs a bit but I just wanted to try something different. I also decided to challenge myself by writing some dialogue for the first time in years so please bear with me if the conversations aren’t that great. Title doesn’t come from a specific song/place. There’s a reference to Glittery by Kacey Musgraves feat. Troye Sivan buried in the story. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

Recommended/optional listening: Glittery by Kacey Musgraves feat. Troye Sivan

“What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me. I laid the groundwork, and then, just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line. What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine, it was all by dеsign.” -Mastermind by Taylor Swift

Although it was snowing outside, you were melting down inside of your apartment. You lost your wallet and the last place you were before coming home was the Target parking lot. You called the store to see if someone had turned it in and were getting ready to go back to the store to check when your doorbell rang. A tall blonde boy wearing a black puffer and a maroon Colorado Avalanche hoodie stood in your doorway, holding your wallet. He introduced himself to you as Cale and you thanked him for bringing it back to you. Before Cale left, you asked him why he brought your wallet to your apartment instead of mailing it back to you or returning it to the store. He explained that your apartment was on the way to his so he stopped by to give it to you. You were taken aback by Cale’s kind gesture. He had no idea who you were and yet he drove out of his way to bring back your wallet, with everything in it. You offered Cale gas money (which he refused) and pleaded with him to let you repay him somehow for what he did.

“Well, you can pay me back by going with me to watch the Nutcracker. I really want to go check it out but none of my teammates want to go with me”, Cale responded.

“Actually, that’s something that I’ve been wanting to do as well and I would love to go with you. Are you free next Saturday?”, you asked.

“I have a game next Saturday but maybe we can go next Sunday’s 6 pm showing?", Cale replied.

“That works for me.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“I would hope so since you already know where I live.”

Cale chuckled at your words and you exchanged numbers before he left. It really wasn’t an issue for Cale to bring you back your wallet. Sure, like you had mentioned, it would have been easier to return it to the store or mail it back to you (which is what he would have done if you weren’t home). Cale was glad that you were there and that you agreed to go with him to see the Nutcracker. It was something that he had really wanted to check out for a while but the guys on the team weren’t into it and Cale didn’t want to be set up again by the WAGs; he had even considered going to watch it alone. Thankfully, he met someone new and Cale was looking forward to seeing you again.

————————————————————

Just as you had agreed to, Cale picked you up right on time for your outing together. You and Cale didn’t really know each other well enough to call it a date but by the end of the evening, you both knew it was one. Before going to the venue, you both agreed to go to dinner first. Over the meal, you both learned about each other and shared stories about your lives. You thought it was fascinating to hear about life in Canada, a place you’ve never been to, from someone who was born and raised there. Cale felt the same way about you, hearing you talk about your life and your career as a social worker. He admired that you enjoyed helping others. You and Cale also shared a mutual experience of attending college and you both shared stories from that chapter in your lives. Cale even felt comfortable talking to you about some of the things he studied in his psychology courses since you studied social work.

After dinner, you and Cale headed over to the Denver Center for Performing Arts. The Nutcracker was amazing and spectacular; it exceeded both of your expectations. The center was close to the public ice rink, so after the event ended, Cale noticed that your eyes lit up when you saw everyone skating. He asked you if you wanted to go ice skating. You hesitated to go because you don’t know how to ice skate and you can barely even roller skate. You did not want to embarrass yourself skating in front of someone who won the Stanley Cup. Despite these feelings, Cale offered to teach you how to skate if you wanted to try. It was not everyday that a professional hockey player offered to teach someone how to ice skate so you agreed to it. You paid for the skate rental since Cale paid for the tickets to the Nutcracker and you split the bill for dinner. Cale was nice enough to tie your skates for you. You were so nervous to step out of the ice but a newly familiar voice reassured you.

“Just hold onto me, I got you. If you fall, I’m right here to pick you up. I promise you that you’ll be okay. If you don’t like it at any point, we could leave.”

You took Cale’s words to heart and following his instructions, you reached out to him and shakily touched the ice. Cale turned around to face you and he gently guided you through the basics of skating. It took some time for you to get it right and there were plenty of moments when you had trouble maintaining your balance but you were relieved that Cale was so patient with you. As time passed, you started to become more comfortable on ice skates and eventually let go of him, but remained close by in case anything happened. However, Cale didn’t want you to let him go because he liked being physically close to you. At one point, you felt confident enough in your skating ability that you challenged Cale to a race around the rink. You decided that the winner would choose the next outing you did together and the loser would pay for the hot chocolate when you were done skating.

You were a bit bold in what the winner won, even though you weren’t fully sure if Cale had wanted to hang out with you again. You both agreed to the conditions and you were relieved that Cale didn’t offer a different option for the winner. You and Cale began to race from one end of the rink to another. Due to the fact that this ice rink has tons of skaters and wasn’t as well maintained like the one at Ball Arena, Cale accidentally fell on the ice. With your assistance, Cale got back up. You both agreed to leave and went to a cafe nearby for some hot chocolate.

“Are you sure you’re a Stanley Cup champion if you fell down like that?”, you joked. Again, you made Cale laugh. He liked that about you, how witty and funny you were.

Despite him falling, you technically won the race and decided that your next outing with Cale would be going to look at the Christmas lights at the Denver Botanical Gardens that upcoming Friday evening. The outing at the Botanical Gardens was beautiful and you and Cale took plenty of photos to keep as memories. Cale really enjoyed spending time with you, even if you didn’t get to see each other as often, due to his busy schedule. Even though he was primarily occupied with hockey, Cale still kept in contact with you more frequently, getting to learn more about his newfound friend.

Christmas was fast approaching but you were unable to see each other before the holiday. You and Cale had made plans to see each other once he got back from Calgary over the short holiday break. You weren’t sure what to get him since Cale never really mentioned anything that he had needed or wanted and you had only known each other for a short time so you settled on giving him a Christmas card with a Starbucks gift card inside. However, close to Christmas, you got a gift in the mail from Cale.

Hope I got the right color. Happy Holidays, y/n

-Cale

You were shocked when you opened the package. Cale had somehow found the rare In The Weeds vinyl variant of Folklore by Taylor Swift. You had mentioned to Cale once that you were looking for a Folklore vinyl to complete your record collection but you didn’t think he would go as far as getting it for you. You were so thankful for Cale; you hadn’t known each other long but you knew that you really had a good guy on your hands.

————————————————————

You met up with Cale for lunch after he returned to Denver from Calgary so that you could give him his Christmas card. Although you felt inferior by giving him something so simple, Cale was very appreciative for the gift because it was thoughtful and came from you. As the time inched closer towards the new year, Cale invited you to the Avs’ New Years Eve game and party; you thought it was nice for him to include you in a team event. You were just Cale’s friend so you didn’t feel comfortable sitting with the WAGs at the game. You brought along one of your friends, who would spend the rest of the holiday with her boyfriend, to keep you company. You had watched hockey casually before but this was your first time attending an actual game. You had a good time; they didn’t win but it was okay.

After the game ended, Cale and the rest of the team migrated towards the New Year’s party at JT and Sydney’s place. Due to the fact that it was a holiday and he knew that he could work it off later, Cale decided to drink a little bit to ring in the New Year. By the time the clock started to wind down in the final minutes, he was already giggly and tipsy.

“Hey, y/n, I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss before. Would you like to be mine?”, Cale asked you.

You weren’t sure if he was asking you to kiss him because he was under the influence or if he was showing his true feelings. You had gone out together more than once but neither of you expressed those hangouts to be dates (even though they lowkey were). You and Cale considered each other friends but you did have a little crush on him. You didn’t want to hurt Cale’s feelings either (even if he wasn’t sober) so you agreed to kiss him. You chanted the countdown with everyone. When everyone yelled “Happy New Year”, Cale leaned in to kiss you on your cheek. Yep, even though he wasn’t fully sober, he was still being respectful. You laughed after he pulled away. Cale enjoyed the sound of hearing you laugh. You had wanted to kiss him back on his cheek but you decided against it. You weren’t sure how Cale truly felt about you sober and you didn’t want to muddy the waters of what you had by doing such a thing.

The following morning, you got a phone call from a certain rosy cheeked cutie, asking you to be his romantic partner. That one phone call changed everything for the better between you and Cale. You were so relieved to hear that he liked you back and his drunk actions did convert to sober thoughts.

————————————————————

Spending time with Cale felt like the world had stopped, time didn’t seem to pass and that time together turned from months to years. Your relationship felt like something out of a love song. Of course, there were expected highs and lows, losses and gains, disagreements and mutual understandings, tears shed and kisses shared all in between. Cale was right there by your side through it all. Things just fell into place for you both and it was almost like you were meant to be together, like it was part of some plan schemed by a mastermind. You didn’t have any evidence but it was like Cale had designed different ways for you to keep falling for him and you would continue to fall deeper and deeper into him and his love.

After being together for some time, you and Cale had decided to make the huge step of purchasing a house. You had found the perfect new build in Cherry Creek and were excited to spend your future together in this home. One weekday evening after Thanksgiving, you and Cale decorated the Christmas tree. You were both busy with work so you couldn’t push it off until the weekend. It was nice to have this time together, even if it wasn’t much. You had shared with Cale a fun family tradition; as you hung up an ornament on the tree, you had to say one thing that you loved about the other person. You knew deep down that Cale loved you but it was nice to hear him say the things that he loved about you; his presence in your life lit you up inside like a glittery Christmas tree. It meant a lot to Cale to hear from you specifically the things that you loved about him; he loved the way you decorated his heart with your kindness, selflessness and compassion. As you continued to hang up ornaments and string garland around the tree, you had quietly started to wonder about when Cale would propose. You had been together for over a year and you were already in the process of getting a home together. To you, Cale was the man of your dreams and he was worth the wait. To Cale, you were the one he wanted to marry and he was so grateful to have you as part of his life. He was glad that you had adjusted well to his lifestyle as a hockey player and being thrust into the spotlight by being romantically involved with him. Cale knew that the love you had shared together could not be replicated with anyone else. You both had this strange, unexplainable effect on each other.

Realistically, you had thought Cale would probably propose to you on Christmas when both of your families were in town. There was no guarantee that you would close on the new house and be moved in by then so Christmas was going to be hosted at the apartment. Cale knew when it was the right time to propose and it wasn’t when you had expected.

Right before Christmas, Cale had gotten a call from the real estate agent for you to meet at your new home to officially close on the property. You both had gotten dressed in your nicest sweaters since there would be a photographer there to take photos of the realtor’s clients with their new homes and you drove together to the location of your new address. You had arrived and noticed that the realtor wasn’t around with the keys to the house. However, the photographer was there. Cale got a text from the realtor who said that he was running late. The photographer suggested you take photos while you waited. You and Cale had professional photos done together before so it didn’t hurt to add more to your collection. During the impromptu photoshoot, Cale got down on one knee, holding your dream ring in a box.

“Y/n, from the moment I met you, I knew you were someone special. I couldn’t have planned the way that we met but after I left your apartment that day, something in my heart spoke to me and I started making plans to pursue you and your heart. I’m so glad that those plans worked out. You are such a light in my life, I love that you’re so kind and you’re one of the most hard-working people I’ve ever met, you’re so beautiful, inside and out. You are my best friend and the love of my life. I love you so much. Now that I have you in my life, it’s hard for me to imagine it without you. There’s no one else in this world that I would want to wake up next to, fall asleep with and spend the rest of my life with. Y/n, will you marry me?”, Cale asked. Your suspicions about him were right after all. Overwhelmed with joy and with tears in your eyes, you accepted Cale’s proposal and were met with one of your favorite gifts: a kiss from your lover.

Unknown to you, Cale already had a copy of the key to your new house. As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted with cheers and hugs from both of your friends and family. Some of the guys from the team and their partners were there as well to celebrate this special moment for you and Cale. You also saw that there was food and some decorations for your engagement party. The realtor was also there inside, with the paperwork so that you could legally sign off as a homeowner. Putting pen to paper, it was officially done. You couldn’t quite believe it; you had started the day off as Cale’s romantic partner and you ended it by becoming new homeowners and Cale’s fiance.

————————————————————

It was Cale’s first birthday as your husband. He came in late last night after an East Coast road trip and slept in late since the Avs had a few days off in between games. Cale looked so peaceful, deep into sleeping and snuggled up with your dog, Benny. You quietly slipped out of bed and went into the kitchen. You tried your best to not disturb your sleeping husband while you made pancakes for him. You knew that Cale always had some sort of surprise for you because he enjoyed seeing the joy that creeped across your face when he surprised you and this time, it was your turn to surprise him.

Cale knew that you weren’t an early bird at all and without an alarm, you could sleep through anything (including the apocalypse); you also tended to sleep in on most weekend off days. He was genuinely surprised to see you up before him. Cale was even more surprised to see that you decorated your shared home with balloons, streamers and a Happy Birthday banner for him. Sure, he had been surprised on his birthday before but it meant even more to him that you did this for him. You sacrificed your sleep to cook for him and to put things up instead of offering to go out to eat or hiring someone else to do everything. He didn’t care if you had got him a super expensive, special birthday gift or had even more surprises up your sleeve. Cale had all that he wanted for his birthday, right here, just feet away, dancing in the kitchen.

The one thing that wasn’t planned at all for Cale’s birthday was the snowfall. According to the weather forecast, there was a 40% chance of snow for October 30th and it was only in the upper elevations near the mountains. That 40% chance of snow turned 100% overnight and now all of Denver was blanketed in white. The unexpected snow on the ground meant that winter came a bit sooner than expected; it also meant that the days were going to get grayer and colder. Although the snow was here to stay, all it took for Cale was one look at you, his heart would get warm and it would all melt away.

#cale makar #colorado avalanche #cale makar x reader #cale makar imagine #cale makar fic #the winter fic exchange 2k23 #my writing #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #please read my story

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abfa-fics · 5 months

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Explosions (bring back memories)

It’s 8:30 am in the morning, and she’s standing outside his door, awkwardly clutching two coffees as if they excuse her unannounced appearance.

She had woken up that morning to several texts.

Melinda, who had messaged her to say how she had been visited by a certain Elliot Stabler. How he had given her a hug, apologized for not contacting her after Kathy’s death - and did Olivia know if he was doing alright? Sent at 11:56 pm.

Ayanna, who had been kind enough to explain to her that she and Elliot had been almost caught in an explosion. That they were just fine, but that she felt Olivia ought to hear directly from one of them before the NYPD gossip mill spread the news. Sent at 3:37 am.

Elliot, who had messaged her to check in and see how she was doing. How he hoped she was sleeping better recently, and that Noah had done well in his last ballet exam. Sent at 4:04 am.

Needless to say, she’s worried, her mind churning over thoughts of him almost being killed by an explosion. Part of her is concerned for his peace of mind. Everything she hears about this OC case makes her wonder if he’s experiencing PTSD or flashbacks; there are too many similarities with what happened with Kathy.

The other part of her feels nauseous, that she could have lost him last night.

She just needs to see him, reassure herself that he’s actually alright.

There’s silence from within, so she knocks firmly again, her knuckle making a sharp tapping noise against the surface.

Her mouth opens to try and justify her appearance as soon as the door starts to swing open, but her voice catches in her throat when she comes face-to-face with a man she doesn’t recognize.

‘Can I help you?’ he demands, one eyebrow raised. His gaze turns from dismissive to interested over the course of a few seconds, as he looks her over. Her first instinct is to cross her arms, but she’s still balancing the coffees, so she ignores him, eyes peering over his shoulder and into the house.

‘Is Elliot home?’ she asks, not even bothering to ask who the man may be. He grunts in response.

‘He didn’t mention he was dating again,’ he says, without moving away from the entrance. ‘And you are?’

‘I’m not his…’ Olivia begins, then trails away as Bernie shuffles into view.

‘Olivia!’ Bernie announces loudly, a bright smile spreading across her face as she comes closer, nudging the man to one side. ‘Why are you standing outside? Randall, let her in. I think Elliot’s in the shower dear, he’ll be along soon.’

Randall Stabler, Elliot’s older brother. 25 years and she’s finally meeting one of the mythical siblings.

There’s a flicker of recognition in Randall’s eyes too, as she steps inside.

‘Olivia, the partner?’ he asks, with a knowing tone in his voice. Olivia shoots him a warning look.

‘The partner,’ she agrees simply.

‘Elliot never said you were so…’ Randall waves his hand vaguely in her direction.

‘So what?’ a voice interrupts them, Elliot inserting himself into the conversation with determination. Olivia takes a deep breath, feeling slightly cornered as three Stablers crowd around her in the entranceway.

She allows herself to look at Elliot, really look at him. There are dark rings under his eyes, and an emerging bruise on his temple, but his gaze is warm rather than haunted.

‘One of those for me?’ he asks, nodding at the coffees. She thrusts one towards his chest, her shoulders relaxing for the first time that morning as their fingers brush together, physical proof that he’s fine, that he’s standing right there.

‘Need me to drive you into work?’ she asks instead. ‘I hear you had rather a late night last night.’

‘NYPD is full of gossips,’ he grumbles, giving Bernie a quick kiss on the cheek and grabbing his coat. They both ignore Randall as they walk out of the flat.

‘Ayanna texted me, actually,’ she says. ‘Glad she did.’

Elliot smiles.

‘I’m glad she did too,’ he agrees, as he follows her, hand on her back where it belongs.

#olivia benson #elliot stabler #eo #bensler #law and order svu #law and order oc #elliot x olivia

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 2 years

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Could I request a fic with m reader and Eddie being frenemies... like they constantly low key bully each other but it's because they're comfortable enough with eachother to know not to take it to heart... like they tease each other and are being competitive with EVERYTHING all the time... just being menaces lol (tysm!!)

I think I can cook this up for you! It's a tad short, but I didn't want to over do it.

Requests will be closing Monday, November 28th at 11:00 PM EST. You can submit yours here!

Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

_______________________________________

If someone were to ask you when this started, you're not sure you could give them a date. You're not sure you could even give them a guess as to when it become second nature to antagonize each other. Sure to the outside, you were sure that it looked strange. If they didn't know like you did, you'd think it was a deep seated hatred too. But in reality this is just how you and Eddie are. If you pushed, he pulled. It's just how it works.

Like currently, you thump Eddie on the back of the head, crouching down over his shoulder. "You think you can just conveniently drive past me on the walk up here in a puddle and get away with it? I think not."

Eddie laughs, under his breath mostly and all through his nostrils. "You were well prepared in your boots," he tease, pointing down to the item.

The puddle was swallow and Eddie did slow down a lot as to not completely soak you, but your sock around your ankles are still wet from the morning.

"Fuck off," you huff, shoving his shoulder.

"I promise I can make it up to you," he states, a smile grazing his lips as he looks up to you. You move down two seats to his left.

"Please spare me the details," you huff, digging into the pile of peas on your tray. "Because you make a joke about a blowjob or getting you an A on a project, I think I'll cut my own ears off."

"Oh, c'mon, I think I'm pretty funny."

"You'd be the only one." The retort is all to easy and the table erupts into poorly withheld giggles. Eddie flips you the bird before the group resumes the conversation they were having before you approached.

And this--the bickering--is just the way it goes. So you're not shocked that later in the evening while you're sitting outside of Eddie's trailer, both of you with cigarettes between your lips, you huff at Eddie's confession.

"Just ask the person out. Don't be such a pussy," you retort.

"Easy for you to say."

"That is an age old excuse and honestly, I expect something more clever out of the likes of you, Munson." Your words are coated in the smoke you exhale, fingers holding the cigarette down at your side. "How about this--tomorrow during P.E if you score more baskets than me, you don't ask your crush out. But if I score more baskets than you, you have to ask them out in front of me."

It's a stupid bet--Eddie knows it as he stares down at your waiting hand. Eddie is not athletic not in the means that he could even fathom outscoring you in a game of basketball. Hell, Eddie did his best to literally never have to play the game during P.E at all. Lots of excuses about rolled ankles, literally ditching when at all possible, attempting to be the worst so that no one picks him.

But here you are, chest puffed out with a sly grin as you hold out your hand. Eddie knows that even you know it's a losing bet. That if Eddie really is chicken shit, he should just avoid it all right now. But he slips his palm into yours, the shake is firm and curt, sealing the coffin Eddie had stepped in just by mentioning the crush for good.

The floor comes up fast for Eddie, but he refuses to let himself be bested so he springs up fast, hearing the whistle of the teacher shrilling against the stale gym air. "Watch it," comes the shout followed by your last name.

You grin, watching Eddie come back to guard you. "Forgot what game I was playing for a second. Forgive me," you tease.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just put it back into play."

Eddie's a little shocked when he manages to swat the ball you had intended to pass to a teammate from its intended path. But he doesn't let the let the shock keep him from taking a shot. It hits the backboard, rims the basket and then falls through the net. Five. He's proud.

"Only need 7 more to catch up," you tease, walking behind him.

Not the reminder he needed and when he spins, he's met with your shirtless sweaty chest. "Oh, sweetheart, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me."

You only shrug, face falling a bit neutral, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. "Who's to say I'm not already?"

After the retort you carry on up court, back towards the action of the game and Eddie wonders just how much he really cares about catching up.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munso fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #h writes #stranger things

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dadsbongos · 2 years

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“Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?”

Chapter 1 / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

585 words

MARCH 7TH, 1986. FRIDAY. 12:47 PM.

Passing period is something Ms. O’Donnell usually chooses to miss out on inside her classroom - opting instead to tuck herself into the staff bathroom just across the hall for five measly minutes of peace. Today, however, that is not an option. Mr. Green has taken the bathroom today and she needs to make sure she has the right papers for today’s lesson with her seniors.

It’s true, nobody particularly bothersome is ever in class early, but it always feels so awkward to be in the room when students are scattered about and she’s hearing about the party last Friday and what booze was there and how high they got.

It’s just easier to pretend that kids, even seniors, are as innocent as they are on television than to face a reality she knows all too well.

She’s pleasantly surprised, though, when the second person to walk into her class is Eddie Munson. Not the worst student she’s ever had, but he never makes an effort to be so early.

The first person to class, of course, is you. Top student of Hawkins with a clear-cut path to valedictorian by graduation.

The third is Chrissy Cunningham. Then Gareth Walton.

Chrissy slides into her seat next to you and Gareth behind Eddie.

Ms. O’Donnell tries not to snoop on her students’ conversations, mostly so she doesn’t hear something she doesn’t want to, but it doesn’t work when the room is as quiet as it is now.

You and Chrissy are already up and animated as you explain how you’re talking to Ms. Kelly in order to get someone to be with you to perform sign language as you deliver your valedictorian speech.

Her eyes then sweep over to where Eddie is bent over himself with a marker - drawing something on the inside of his forearm. When he pulls back to show Gareth, she hopes to God her eyes are mistaking her and he didn’t draw an overly endowed demon right on his arm. And she also hopes to God that she doesn’t actually hear him mutter, “What do you think? Tattoo - or no?”

But, in a peculiar way, when she sees you and Eddie accidentally lock eyes from across the room during your conversations - she can almost see something there. Maybe it’s the years of rom-coms. Maybe it’s from her time as the outcast senior who met her husband as he was studying for exams months before they were happening.

Either way, she leans back in her seat and catches the theater director - Mr. Harvey - as he’s walking down the hall and points at him and gives him her classic we need to talk look.

More students pile in as passing period cuts closer to an end and you pull out any materials you may need for class while Eddie looks down and just now seems to realize he doesn’t have anything with him aside from that stupid metal lunchbox he carries around.

As Eddie raises his hand to ask to get his things from his locker, Ms. O’Donnell carefully watches you as he speaks - you look at Eddie, but not with judgment as your peers do, and it seems to solidify her idea.

You turn back to Chrissy but you don’t glance at the doorway or at Eddie’s desk in disdain and she feels more than safe saying that you don’t look down at Eddie Munson.

She doesn’t know why she’s so invested.

Maybe she should get a hobby.

~~ @chainsaw-man-inserts 4 u :)

#within six days #wsd fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic

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mercy-burning · 4 years

Text

Laundry Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer meet again in the laundry room and decide to have some fun. PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE Category: Smut 18+ (oral sex- male and female receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, slight exhibitionism?/potential of getting caught, slight degradation) Warnings: sex, language. (As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in warnings. I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 3k

Note: Surprise!! I was going to wait to post this on Saturday but Taylor Swift had me feeling like dropping a surprise, what can I say? 😂 Anyway, I wasn’t going to make another part to Pretty Please, but for one thing, it did way better than I was expecting, so thank you all for your kind comments and tags! And also, @rainsong01 mentioned something that gave me an idea for a laundry room scenario, so you can thank them for this one! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you like it! Thanks for all the love! 🥰

***

Y/N hated laundry day.

There was nothing more boring to her than loading clothes into the washer, waiting, then loading them into the dryer, waiting, and then folding them and putting them away, not to mention the laundry room was kind of dingy and felt like being in a gross, scary basement.

Thankfully though, years of living in the same building had given Y/N a pretty decent schedule of when the laundry room was empty. It wasn't like she disliked talking to people, but laundry made her cranky enough, and the last thing she wanted was human interaction, making small talk with building residents that acted like they cared to know about everyone else's business.

So it was Friday night, 7 pm, which meant that depending on if she had to work, the only other person in the laundry room would be Olivia from down the hall, someone Y/N had only had a few conversations with, either in the laundry room or on the way out the door.

She walked in, silently thanking the laundry gods after hearing complete and utter silence as she made her way to the washer and dryer to the far left of the room. Then she reached into her pocket and realized she forgot her phone. Cursing, she settled on basking in the silence as she loaded her clothes in the washer one by one, at least grateful that no one would be bothering her with pointless small talk.

Until she heard the door open, as if the laundry gods decided they were angry at her. She tried not to outwardly groan, hoping that whoever it was would just say, "Hello," and leave it at that. Or better yet, not say anything at all and let her do her own thing. So she closed the washer and entered the quarters, knowing that it would be a long ten minutes. She could have went back upstairs to her apartment and waited there if she really wanted to, or grabbed her phone at least, but it felt like it would have been pointless, and so she just hoped it wouldn't be awkward.

Maybe I'll just go walk around the building aimlessly for 10 minutes.

But the laundry gods had other plans, apparently.

"Y/N?"

She turned around and saw none other than Spencer Reid, clutching a large cloth bag, presumably filled with laundry.

"Spencer? Hi," Y/N greeted, a small blush forming on her cheeks. The two of them hadn't really talked since their... escapade about a month ago. Most of the time Spencer was at work, but whenever he was home there hadn't been anymore thin wall scenarios or overhearing something she shouldn't. They'd seen each other in the hallway a few times, winking as they passed, but that was it. Y/N had to wonder if maybe it was just a once-in-a-lifetime thing, being absolutely fucked into oblivion by your neighbor so good that you couldn't walk for two days.

Thinking about it made her cheeks burn hotter, so she cleared her throat and only slightly avoided eye contact. "I thought you did your laundry on Sundays?"

Spencer shrugged, walking over to the machine set next to hers. "Normally I would, but I just got back from work and I needed clean clothes. It's... pretty empty in here right now."

"Oh. Yeah, that's why I do my laundry on Friday nights whenever I can. Everyone's either out or staying in relaxing. Laundry's already boring enough, right, who needs annoying small talk?"

He laughed, opening the washer and putting in some of his clothes. "Touché."

Y/N wasn't really sure what to say after that, so she sat on top of the washer and crossed her legs, swinging them a little as she waited.

"Look, I know you've already given your stance on annoying small talk, but... What are your plans for the weekend?" Spencer asked, and she turned her head to meet his gaze, immediately feeling butterflies in her stomach.

"Um... Not a lot, really. Other than some grocery shopping and a few other small errands, I was going to have dinner with my mom on Sunday for her birthday. We might have to cancel though because she might have to go into work, but we'll see... What about you?"

He shook his head. "I don't have anything planned unless I get called into work either."

"Oh... Well, if you ever feel like having some company, you know where I live," she joked.

Spencer laughed. "I might just have to take you up on that. Things at work have been kind of... stressful."

Despite her better judgement, she smirked. "I seem to recall a similar conversation between the two of us not that long ago, Bud. You're not trying to fuck me again, are you?"

She just couldn't help herself. Admittedly she was a little worried she was too forward, but in the end it paid off, because he turned to look at her, shutting the washer and grabbing quarters from his pocket. "Would it be so wrong of me if I wanted to?"

The low tone of his voice made Y/N clench her legs tighter together, her mind racing with all the things that could happen in the next few days, the next few minutes even... She thought back to the last time he'd fucked her, seeing his face between her legs as he completely unraveled her. She felt herself growing wet at the thought.

"Absolutely not," she finally managed to respond. She hoped he would come over to her in a few long strides, pulling her in and kissing her right there, but instead he simply said, "Hmm," and turned back to his machine, putting in quarters.

He could have been playing games with her again, but she didn't want to take the chance. So she grew bolder and leaned back on her hands, puffing out her chest to the air and tilting her head to the side, letting her hair fall and exposing her neck to him. "Well, we have some time to spare, babe. What do you say we make the most of it?"

She was genuinely surprised to see him blush and freeze in his tracks, fumbling with the last few quarters as he inserted them into the machine and started the timer. "R-right now?"

"Duh," she replied, giggling.

"Somebody could come in... O-or hear us." A twinge of worry dripped from every syllable as he spoke, and though Y/N's first instinct was to apologize for suggesting it and letting it go, she thought better of it after remembering what got them into this situation in the first place.

So she scoffed. "Oh, please. You weren't the least bit worried about someone hearing us before. Y'know... When you promised to fuck me so hard I would scream your name and everyone could hear, and then I did? And besides, even if someone walked in right now, they'd probably just leave and come back later. People probably have sex with each other in here all the time."

"I doubt that, this place is filthy. Hardly the right setting for something so... intimate," he replied more clearly, obviously trying to win this argument. Though, something told Y/N he really was a little bothered about how dirty the laundry room was.

She shook her head. "You and I both know that what we did wasn't intimate. It was downright filthy, so if anything it works perfectly for where we are."

"Y/N, I don't know..." He chewed on his bottom lip and shuffled on his feet, refusing to look at her.

"Well, I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to do, obviously, but... You can trust me. I've been doing my laundry here basically every Friday night since I moved here, and since Olivia is working tonight, she won't be here, and neither will anyone else."

"Well, I showed up, didn't I? Anything could happen."

She sighed, a little tired of arguing but still wanting to win. Her body tingled and practically ached at the sight of him, needing to feel his touch yet again. Maybe it was slightly pathetic, but if there was just the slightest chance that he would fuck her like that again, she had to try her damnedest.

So she had another trick up her sleeve, silently praying to the laundry gods that they would take pity on her and grant her this one thing. "You're right, but don't you think that you coming down here just moments after me was bound to happen? Like after everything we've experienced, we were always meant to have a quickie in the laundry room of our apartment building?"

He genuinely seemed to think about it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "Truthfully I think it's more of a coincidence than anything that we showed up here at the same time."

There's your chance, Y/N, don't fuck it up, she thought to herself, hoping that with the seductive tone in her voice and the puppy dog look in her eye, it would be enough to get her what she wanted. "I was joking. Of course it's a coincidence, I just want you to fuck me."

He only stayed silent, fiddling with his hands and his eyes flicking between her and the floor before he caught her eye. In another attempt to entice him, Y/N batted her eyes and slowly spread her legs wide, scooting back a little so she could rest her heels on the top of the washer. "Don't you want to fuck me into the washing machine, baby?"

That was the last straw, the thing that pushed Spencer over the edge. He whispered, "Fuck it," to himself before striding over to her and cradling her face in his hands, bringing her to him and kissing her hard. She initially yelped at how harsh he was, but after a second she melted into him, leaning forward and bringing him closer.

She tried to wrap her legs around his torso, but he grabbed them by the ankles and kept them spread open, pulling away to look into her eyes. "Keep 'em open, pretty girl." The old nickname made her whimper, just like he knew it would, and his gaze burned into hers hotly for a few seconds before he bent down, kissing her inner thigh just below the hem of her shorts. She sighed as he trailed his lips and tongue along every inch of skin, switching to the other leg and giving it the same attention until he was ready for more.

Rather than pulling off her shorts and underwear, Spencer simply pushed the fabrics aside and immediately licked a long, flat strip up her pussy, to which Y/N sharply inhaled and reached out, grabbing his hair. He explored her just as thoroughly as he had the last time, his fervor unmatched and absolutely intoxicating as he pushed himself closer and closer, practically living between her legs. Due to the short time constraint and fear of getting caught, he didn't waste time teasing her, and he seemed determined to finish before the buzzing of the washer signaled clean clothes.

Naturally though, he couldn't not tease her, so just as she was about to finish with his lips wrapped around her clit, he pulled away and left her breathless and frustrated.

"Really? We're doing this again?" she huffed, pouting.

Spencer unbuckled his belt and raised his eyebrow. "All in due time, sweetheart. Come here."

Unsurprisingly, she did what she was told, jumping off the washer and waiting further instructions. It didn't take long for Spencer to move, only a few seconds passing by before he turned her around and pushed her against the washer, to which she instinctively bent her torso over it. She gripped the sides of it tightly as he ran his hands up her shirt and caressed her back, eventually using one hand to grip her waist and the other to lift her leg up, setting it on the washer. She readjusted, reaching her hands forward to grip the top of it as he slid his hand down her leg and toyed with the fabric of her shorts.

"Listen carefully," he said, causing Y/N's heart to pound harder in her chest. "I'm clean. Are you?"

"Yes," she stated simply, loud and clear, though adding a hint of desperation as to hopefully speed the process along. She knew this communication was important, but damn if she didn't just want to be railed into next week already.

"Birth control?"

She swallowed nervously, hoping it wouldn't change his mind. "I'm not on it."

"Noted," is all he said, before deftly moving her shorts and underwear to the side and slamming into her with no warning. She yelped, leaning her head back as he pounded into her, the cold metal of the washing machine digging into her skin. It was the best kind of painful pleasure, only made better when he gripped her hair into a makeshift ponytail and yanked her to him, deepening his angle inside of her and hitting that sweet spot every time.

"Spencer, I'm..." She could barely breathe, and she loved it, already feeling herself start to unravel.

"Close already, pretty girl?" he purred in her ear, right before pressing a wet kiss to her neck as he craned her head to the side for better access. "Figures... You've always been so easy to please. Such a good, needy little slut for me, huh?"

Y/N groaned at the new name, and it spurred him forward, encouraging him to push them both further into the washing machine as he moved his hips harder. "Please," she gasped, only seconds away from losing herself.

"Tell me what you want," he growled in her ear.

She squeezed her eyes shut and spoke as clearly as she could, not caring how loud she was being. "I wanna cum! Please, Spencer, please!"

"Do it," he grunted, giving her a few more deep, purposeful thrusts to aid in her high. "I got you, pretty girl." That's what did it for her. She yelled out as her body tensed and her walls fluttered around him, everything absolutely burning and blinding until eventually she was spent.

Spencer held himself inside of her for a few seconds, bringing himself closer to the edge before he roughly pulled out and away, leaving Y/N empty and alone. She was tired as hell and completely fucked out, but still she wanted more than anything to help him, ever the needy little slut, as he'd so eloquently called her. So she turned around, peeling herself away from the washing machine and dropping to her knees in front of him, not waiting for him to say anything.

She promptly leaned forward and wrapped her mouth around his cock, wasting no time hollowing her cheeks and setting a fast pace sucking him off. It had somewhat taken him by surprise, but he welcomed it, gathering her hair away from her face and watching as she went to work, practically worshipping the ground he stood on. Eventually she pushed herself all the way forward, allowing him to hit the back of her throat. Instead of pulling back to breathe, she held herself there and gagged, looking up at him with tears in her eyes before removing herself, taking two deep breaths, and going right back to work.

"Look at you," he mused, his voice barely there but with enough volume that allowed Y/N to hear him. "You look so good, pathetic and choking on my cock. Such a good fucking girl, fuck—"

In no time he was gripping her hair tighter and his breathing started to falter. Y/N held herself still as he came in her mouth, most of it hitting the back of her throat and all of it coating her tongue. She moaned around him, blinking tears away and running her hands over his ass until he pulled away from her and let go of her hair.

Standing up, Y/N swallowed most of his cum but purposely let some of it spill out of her mouth and down her chin, to which she used her middle finger to scoop it up and slide it back into her mouth. She kept eye contact with him the whole time, watching as his tongue flicked over his bottom lip before he bit it softly.

Once she was done cleaning herself up, Y/N ran a hand through her hair and smiled. "See, that wasn't bad at all. No trouble."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the only trouble is you. Eavesdropping, making me fuck you in a semi-public place, et cetera..." He laughed as he pulled his pants up and re-adjusted himself as though nothing had happened.

"Don't act like you don't like it," Y/N teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips. He laughed against them, pulling her closer by her waist and resting his hands there when she pulled away.

As if to signal the end of their... whatever they were going to call it, Y/N's washer buzzed and she turned around to attend to her laundry. As she transferred the clothes from the washer to the dryer, Spencer came up behind her and brushed the hair away from her neck.

"You know, I wasn't trying to be mean or anything when I... called you a slut. I would never want to be mean to you or anything, and I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

Y/N almost laughed, amused again by how dominant he was during sex but then immediately a big 'ol softie once it was over. It was such a fun contrast, and truthfully, as much as she loved his dominant side, she wanted to see more of his softer one. So she turned around to meet him and caressed his cheek, smiling kindly. "I know you don't mean it to be mean. It was hot. And I appreciate you checking up on me, it's sweet. You're sweet."

Before he could say anything, his washer buzzed. So he settled on leaning forward, kissing her cheek, and walking away to do his laundry.

The two of them worked in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company until they realized they both had to wait for the dryer. 20 minutes.

"Round two?" he asked her with a mischievous grin.

Y/N returned it and took a step towards him when the door opened, laundry gods be damned.

"Oh, hey guys!" Olivia from down the hall chirped as she walked in, striding to her own station.

At least they had the rest of the weekend.

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid

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pufflocks · 3 years

Note

Kuroo x bottom male reader, maybe readers riding him?

Summary: Honestly in my mind–, I believe if Kuroo had someone sitting on his cock I believe he would be so touchy. Touchy and impatient— Touching the readers curves and rubbing on his thighs until he couldn't take it anymore. ♡

"You- You are so fucking tight- ugh, I love it." -T.K ❣

Warnings: Slight degrading • Groping • Cum eating • Proof read • porn without plot

Cast: Bottom!M!Reader x Kuroo Tesuro //Kenma Kozumane//

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

It was an alluring Friday. Volleyball club didn't have another practice until next week. Leaving an eventful evening afterschool for a certain couple.

"Phew I'm fuckin' exhausted-" Tetsurou exhaled stretching out his long limbs. Many people, according to Y/N would kill for his height. Yet he was always saying how much he hated it. Words only to tick his boyfriend off – which it did.

The rooster haired male slicked back his sweat covered hair. "Oi, kenma I'm gonna head out first since my oh so handsome boyfriend wanted me to take him home early." Kenma nodded quietly, chugging his water down quietly. He gathered his belongings along with the other members of the team.

'I wonder why he needs a chaperone to walk him home..' Kenma sighed. Shaking off the thought since it was not his business. Besides that he started picking up some stray volleyballs. Faster he does this the faster he gets home to play video games with his boyfriend.

You however, was just about to get out of your last period. Thinking about some random things to get out of the fact you and nekomas volleyball captain sending eachother lewd glances throughout the day. One action led to another throughout the day.

You sitting in the back of class softly giggling to yourself once while at your phone and blushing at other texts. Some texts were cute flirts like "I can't wait to see you" or "Coach is being extra angry. He needs pop a chocky milk" Leading to a raging tent in your pants in your last class period when he sent a slick nude of a boner he accumulated in the past hour. Ugh— The clock nearing 3 PM setting you slight edge in your seat.

BRING !

'Thankfully the teacher didn't see me with my phone.'

Sighing tremendously you snatched up your bag that had a cheesy volleyball sticker in nekomas colors with a big number '1' on it. Gifted by your yours truly, Tetsurou Kuroo aka rooster bf. A small nickname you gave him in your guys' first year.

You chuckled at your own humor as you bumped into someone the way out of your classroom.

"Ah-!" You failed to finish your small mental comedy show as your overly tall boyfriend encased you in a nearly bone crushing hug. Lovingly of course.

Your not so obvious erection slightly catching contact on his muscular thigh. "You scared me tetsu- Come on lets go." You grab hold of the mans hand in dire need to fix your lower situation, pronto. One think you hated about your boyfriend was how much of a tease he so unashamedly was.

You both agreed, over text to leave early to do it after class since he didn't have practice today.

"What's the rush doll ? You were just teasing me with that I wanna ride you BS over the phone." He snickered. Face automatically bloomed red as you scoffed in face. Pushy bastard he is.

"Yeah yeah. Come on before people see-" And before you knew it. Your boyfriend took one glace down south to notice you weren't lying. Your small cock pressing up against the unformed pants.

'Cute how eager he is~' he mentally mused.

He took this opportunity to just drag you to an already emptied classroom. The school seemed to empty out earlier on Fridays, you thought. Slowly coming back to your own senses you see just how peckish he really was. Air thickening. Your noticable shudders of arousal not going unnoticed.

"God,, I need you right now." No other words were conversed between you two as he eagerly ripped and tugged the cloth off your smaller frame. Canines slightly nipping at now heated skin and grabbing wherever his hands could easily roam. Sloppy kisses to your neck making you gasp and make your penis twitch in gratitude.

"Please tetsu.. I want it badly~" You moaned wantonly as he was gripping some belly fat lovingly. Tetsurou grinned as if he was a wolf in the night howling at the moon.

Grabbing a nearby chair, after he let you go with a small peck to your nose he sat down and shrugged off his trousers. Hard organ slapping on his lean stomach. The sight making you purr in the presence of this 'wolf'

'I can't wait to fucking ride him..'

The sight of his cock made you rub your legs together eagerly. A small "Hm..~" erupting from your throat. Oh god did it not only have girth and a red bulge of its head – His length and overall cock had been mesmerized in your small pink hole.

"Wanna ride you Tetsu.." you mewled already palming the hard on in your now very tight pants.

He pulled you closer and gripped your chin to make you look at him as he stroked his cock teasingly, "Wanna ride me dry and see if you can come undone or vise verse but you blow me ? Which is it sweetheart ?" Darting dark eyes your way as he audibly purred. Kind to not so kind kisses being placed to your collarbone making you shiver as his cold lips met your hot skin.

New hickies you never minded showing off, just as much as he never minded giving you to show off.

The choices were hanging heavy on your tongue, now realizing his question. Almost obediently, in one swift motion you got down your knees willingly let him unravel you with his slim eyes.

"Such a lucky ass man I am~"

Fuck you wanted him so bad.

"You gonna blow me my pretty Y/N ?" He said stroking your cheek as if you were the most rarest diamond from his thief heist. To him you were not only rare, but valuable beyond his mind.

Grasping hold of his member you lick up his shaft kissing here and there. Making quick work to get to the main course.

Tetsurou smiled. His pretty boy serving his cock like it was something holy. Before he knew it you started gulping down his length. Slobber dribbling at the creases of your mouth. Pretty eyes of yours making their ways to your rooster headed lover.

"Fuck-! Baby I'ma fuckin' cum-" He groaned, head flying backward as you got off hearing him announce he was gonna shoot down your throat. Swallowing every. Single. Drop.

"Shit.. You gonna take daddies cum baby ? Yeah ? Where you want it ? Tell me babes." He was tapping his cock against your now plump and messy lips as he stroked himself off to your filthy face. Fuck, he was using your face for his own pleasure. You wanted him to know how much you enjoyed this.

"Mm- I want it in my mouth!~ please stick your cock deep down my throat daddy!~" You whined pathetically stroking your own leaking cock and using your own arousal for lube. The lewd squlching noises invading your ears.

He snorted at your poor attempts at getting yourself off and opened your jaw enough to shove all the way in down your throat. Tears prickling and threatening to fall down your face. You let out small gags leading to moans from the action as he shot down your throat. You swallowed his seed successfully, sticking out your tongue to show you did.

"Such a pretty boy.. Fuck such pretty boy." Tetsurou praised as he wiped the tears you ignored from your puffy eyes. Also unnoticing the ringing one of your phones was doing. You didn't care though. "We ain't done yet though. Get your sweet ass up here my prince." You joyfully obliged as he helped you off your knees seeing they were red. He started rubbing small circles and kissing your bare shoulders. A way of saying sorry for making you be on yourknees for so long.

'So caring~' You groggily giggled to yourself due to your throat being slightly sore from your guys' previous actions. Damn he was rough this time. Does being found out really get him this riled up ?

He cocked an eyebrow, "What's wrong ? Did a do something silly ?" He wore his signature smirk. The one you loved and hated. A calming and goofy aura being replaced with the once heated lustful one. All you could do was giggle again and cup his face in the moment. Just enjoying him.

"You're just so caring with me and I love you for moments like these." You confessed. Heart beating erratically as he chuckled kissing your nose.

"I know. I'm a big ass softy for my boyfriend believe it or not." You rolled your eyes jokingly. You loved this man, but you also loved his cock which by the way, still hasn't gone soft yet.

Turning around in his lap you wrapped your arms and legs around his form as you whispered alluringly. "Let me do the work cuz my dick is aching now and I needa cum stupid bad." You smiled devilishly. He once again for the umpteenth time, chuckled at your words and throwing his hands up.

"No hands my prince. No hands." You nodded. Knowing full well he would lose it half way of your quote unquote dominance.

You slowly and steadily began inserting his member inside. God, the stretch you fucking waited for was heavenly. Making it all the more nearly impossible to not close your eyes in delight.

Sucking through his teeth your boyfriend let out a long "Fuuuck..~" as groaned instinctively grasping onto your hips. On a loose thread of keeping his promise of letting you in control.

"God, you're so fucking- huge-! Testu~" You whined already grinding the rest of length into your now gaping hole. The feeling all too familiar to your body. Soon beginning to bounce up and down with pure greed. Not giving the slightest flying fuck if someone were to see you through the small class window as you were rolling your eyes back in ecstasy like a expert porn star.

"You- You're so fucking tight.. Ugh- fuck I love it !~" He moaned out aggressively as your bouncing only quickened at his words slapping sounds got louder. "Who's fucking cock are you riding Y/N ?" He growled and huffed bear your neck. His breath tickling the hairs in the area.

Noticing he didn't get any answer to his no rhetorical question, Tesurou slapped your ass harshly leaving a delicious itchy feeling rupture in the spot his heavy hand slammed on. You lost it as an almost unbearable amount of pre ran down your cock.

"You- Ah!~ Fuck it's you Testu!~ Your cock- Ah-!~ is hitting me in all the right places oh my fucking god!-" You shrieked small little tears making their way down your ruined face.

'This slut is really egging me the fuck on today~' Tetsurou mentally grinned.

Not only did he like the words coming out of your mouth, but he lived for those damn tears of diamond racing out the corners of your eyes. "

"Fuck it. I'm pounding the shit out of this ass." He mumbled to himself as he snatched you off of his body as if it was completely nothing and pressed you forward on a desk, your perky nipples grazing the cold school furniture.

He took a second to adjust his angle until ramming into your prostate directly dead on as you let out a high pitched warble. Anyone could mistake your voice for a females out of context. "Fuck-! fuck- MM— FUCK YES~" you moaned as your cock swung heavily in between your legs as Tetsurou began deep stroking every corner inside you. The feelings making your mind go numb.

"Baby boy I'm finna blow my load~ Who the fuck is fucking your shit up right ? Huh ?~" Testu's snarled in your ear. Snatching you up by your neck up to his sweaty hard chest. Your bodies creating an almost unbearable heat between you both.

You whined in a needy voice as the feeling of your prostate getting hammered repeatedly. "YOU DADDY~ YOU YOU YOU~!!! GOD LEMME CUM FUUUCK—" His grip on your neck did not falter as his pace only got faster. Quickly gripping your slick penis and jerked you off all the while placing delectable light kisses around your bruised neck and shoulders. You were nearly seeing stars with overstimulation and his contrast of touch.

"That's exactly what I like to hear my amazing boy~" Tetsurou hips stuttered as you came hard, your eyes rolling back and drool sliding down your jaw. Coming straight after your release he gave one last deep push cumming deep down in your tight little ass. "Fuck babe..- Fuck-" He panted smiling lazily, grip already faltering around your neck. He never would forgive himself if he accidentally choked you to death.

Since you guys literally just fucked in a classroom, aftercare had to be done differently. Slowly laying his head on your shoulder, rubbing your hips and doing anything to ease any after pain off your body. Maybe you'll let him try out a cream he uses on himself after volleyball. Eases the joints and moisturizes your body.

Such a loving boyfriend you bad.

"I love you so damn stinkn' much Y/N.. God I'm so fucking lucky I swear." You chuckled, 'cause he always seemed to be so emotional after you guys had sex. You thought it was cute coming from him. "Let's get out of here cuz' we already stayed here for half an hour." You stated pushing the tall male off your body, much to his unpleasant dismay. He only hummed in response.

"Your house or mine ?" He questioned after pulling up his pants and tugging his extra volleyball shirt on. You stretched while yawning a bit. Sex is tiring.

"Yours. My parents will automatically smell the sex on me and no cologne can cover that." Giggling softly at your statement your boyfriend nodding in a agreement.

"Let's just hope they dont find out we once fucked in your living room-" You glared at him as he stopped, snickering at how cute his boyfriend looked after being roughed up.

"Let's go so we can cuddle now please." You softly pleaded as you tugged his shirt tiredly. You know the first thing you were gonna do when you got to his house was instantly plop smack on his oversized bed.

"Let's go my prince."

Bees are pretty..

Zenna, no.

#male reader #hq kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #x reader #haikyuu smut #smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you

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harryskalechips · 4 years

Text

you want to give it a go?

A/N Omg hi guys I’m back with a little update. I’m so sorry I haven’t been writing much. I’ve been super busy with school but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who still supports me on this platform and appreciates my work. I love you guys so much. The friends I made on here are absolutely incredible. You can always reach out to me despite me not posting hahah. Anyway here it is! Hopefully I’ll be back with something new in some time.

Y/N and Harry are just friends but when they get themselves mixed in a threesome, things change.

Word count: 3.7k / Masterlist

Harry and Y/N are just friends. They met back a year ago through Nick at his birthday party and ever since that they clicked.

He enjoys the time he spends with her after all, everything felt normal. There was never a discussion about his fame or her anxiety about who will see them together. Instead, their friendship was always just about them and that was all.

Harry may have been seeing someone and although he never thought it was serious, Nadia was coming over during the nights where Y/N was supposed to be hanging out with him. It was fine and dandy since they decided to hang out together as Nadia knew her “boyfriend”’s best friend wasn’t much of a threat. This continued for months until one night, Y/N brought some wine to celebrate her big promotion earlier from the day.

The three were having a great conversation on the floor as they smoked some weed and had some messy Chinese takeout on Harry’s living room floor. It was just about 9 PM when Nadia sparked up a new question in their group. A rather dirty one perhaps.

“Have you guys ever been in a threesome before?” She smiles as she stares innocently at the man in between her and the other girl. Harry sips his wine as his eyes widened a bit. He waits for Y/N to answer first but she doesn’t reply. Instead, her cheeks turn red as a tomato. “Be honest! I’ll say it first. I’ve never been but I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“I may have?” Harry mumbles as he rubs his bottom lip.

“What type of answer is that?” Nadia laughs as she puts her joint in an ashtray on top of the coffee table. “I won’t get mad.” She shakes her head.

“I remember doing stuff with other girls and guys but I don’t remember clearly.” He answers truthfully and looks at his best friend. “What about you, Y/N?” He didn’t know what to expect. Would he feel a bit angry or protective?

“Why are you guys asking this?” She tries to change the topic and laughs. “Who wants some more wine?” Nadia leans over Harry’s legs to grab the glass out of Y/N’s hand.

“Answer the question.” She laughs at her as she rubs her boyfriend’s thigh. Harry coughs again and tries to drink some more wine. Luckily, he still had some left.

“No. I haven’t been.”

“Would you want to try it?” Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t Nadia who asked but instead, Harry.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Y/N tries to brush it off. “Maybe, one day.”

“Here, I’ll let you think about it.” Nadia giggles. “I can make out with Harry and if you feel like joining you can.” Not a surprising act from Nadia to be honest. She was always the type of girl to try anything.

“Na-” Harry tries to stop her. He didn’t want to pressure Y/N into having a threesome. He especially didn’t want it to be awkward for their friendship. Isn’t rule #1 of threesomes is that the third person is someone you don’t know?

“Harry, it’s fine. The most she’ll feel is uncomfortable but I mean, she’s seen us kiss before.” Nadia straddles him as she wraps her arms around his neck. She begins to softly kiss his jaw as she moves her soft pink lips to meet his. Her hips softly rock into his, that as his eyes watch Y/N -he held Nadia by her waist.

A soft moan comes out of his mouth which makes Nadia pull away. She takes her shirt off and tosses it at the girl watching them. Harry looks at her with his pouty lips. Y/N looks at him too as she tries to read his mind. Does he want me to join in? Would this get weird? Do I want to actually do this?

“It’s a one-time thing. We don’t have to talk about it ever again.” Nadia smiles as she unbuttons Harry’s shirt. Harry’s thumb slides down her bottom lip as he looks at Y/N again.

“What do you think H?” Y/N could feel her heart beat fast as she watched him. She knew she didn’t like him romantically so she was not concerned about catching feelings. She was scared of how her performance would be. Maybe, they would judge her?

“Come on.” Harry whispers reassuringly as he takes his hand out for her to reach. Nadia immediately gets off him as she runs to his room, taking her clothes off in the process. Although Harry leads Y/N to the room hand in hand, he was nervous as fuck yet he couldn't deny his excitement.

Nadia lays down in the middle of the king bed as she watches her boyfriend take Y/N’s clothes off. Maybe, since she was new to all of this he wanted her to feel special? No biggie. She thought.

She watches Harry lean in to kiss Y/N which the girl reciprocates without any complaint. Of course, she was a bit hesitant but she couldn’t ignore the fact how she could hear his heartbeat so fast as if it was in sync with hers. His hands slid from her waist to the bottom of her shirt as he carefully helped her take it off. “You’re doing so well, baby.” He kisses her a bit more deeply as he unbuttons her pants. He drops to his knees and kisses her tummy as he takes her underwear and her jeans off together.

“I’m getting a bit lonely here.” Nadia quietly complains. She sits up immediately and approaches Y/N from behind to take her bra off. She kisses her neck as she gropes her chest. “How are you feeling?” She asks sweetly as they both watch Harry take his clothes off.

“Really nervous.”

“You want to do this, for real?” Harry asks. He knows it’s a bit too late but he needed to hear it from her just to be sure. Because as much as he wants to have this night for themselves, there’s a tiny part of him that wished it was just him and … No, she’s your friend and you have Nadia.

“Yeah.” She purses her lips as she eyes his chest. God, she’s checking him out right now and for the first time, he’s actually aware.

“Alright. Nadia, go to the bed,” Harry instructs her as he bites his lip. He sits on the edge of the mattress as he fists himself slowly. “Come here and suck it.” His voice deepens. Nadia smirks as she kneels on the floor. Her hands replace his as she confidently spits on him to jerk him off. Y/N stands in the corner of the room watching the couple. She definitely felt like she was intruding. “Come here.” Harry’s voice softens. His hands intertwined in Nadia’s blonde hair softened as he watched his friend walk behind her to sit beside him.

“Should I do something?” Y/N asks as she covers her chest. Harry laughs as he removes her arms.

“Baby, why are you covering up?” This nickname seems to be a popular word tonight. It made Nadia’s focus from their pleasure to just observing them. “Why won’t you come a bit closer,” Harry suggests. His hand takes her face as he kisses her. Nadia goes faster trying to deep throat him so she can try and get his attention back on her but all he does is ignore her as his hands play with Y/N’s chest. Groping and sucking and overall, just loving.

“Fuck.” Y/N mumbles out loud as she watches Nadia suck her best friend’s dick.

“You want to give it a go?” Harry takes himself out of Nadia’s mouth. He slaps her cheek and moves himself to the bed. “Y/N, come here.” She obeys. He gestures her down as he grips himself in front of her. He helps guide it into her mouth as he cups one of his balls. The pure image of her laying down on his bed sucking his dick made him already want to burst. “Fuck, baby you’re such an angel aren’t you?”

Nadia helps herself onto the bed and without a word, she sits on Harry’s face so she doesn’t have to hear him talk. She didn’t even face Y/N because she realized this was a big mistake. Her fault for drinking too much wine.

Harry’s hands held onto Nadia’s thighs as he ate her out but once he felt Y/N gagging, they immediately went to her instead. His big hands removing her hair from her face as he slowly forced her head down. Her eyes rolled back a bit as he thrusts himself involuntarily into her mouth.

Nadia pulls his hair and puts more pressure onto his face so he can direct his attention back to her. He gropes her boobs as well but that didn’t stop him from thinking of the dirtiness Y/N was doing. He instantly tapped Nadia off him as he pushed himself up. He made Y/N sit up so he can push her onto the bed where the pillows were. He held her arms above her head as he sucked on her nipples. His tongue bouncing in and out of his mouth as he left soft licks down her torso until he reached her wet centre. His fingers going into Nadia’s mouth before rightfully so inserting them into Y/N’s core. Soon after he fingers her at a quick pace. He ignores the fact Nadia sat on the bed, just looking at them speechless.

“Fuck, I know you’re fucking beautiful but the way you look right now is driving me absolutely mad,” Harry mumbles as his hands tightened on Y/N’s neck. As she reaches her first orgasm, Harry reaches over her to put on a condom. After permission. He rocks himself forward, putting one of her legs on his shoulder. Nadia hovers over Y/N’s chest to kiss Harry but she slowly pushes his chest to make him stop focusing on Y/N. Harry for once got her message. He takes his condom off and tosses it onto the table. He puts a new one on and forces Nadia on all fours. He fucks her behind as he pulls on Y/N’s hair. His eyes watching her chest and her centre as she laid down beside Nadia touching herself. Nadia leans over to make out with her but all Harry wanted to do was fuck Y/N all over again.

Not after long, Harry pulls out of Nadia without another word. He takes his condom off and stands from the bed and pulls Y/N from her legs. He flips her around and bends her over the mattress. He slaps her ass and holds her arms down as he fucks her hard. His hand eventually tugging on her hair as he let out grunts. Naida watches her boyfriend fuck his best friend bare as she hears him mumble, “Best fuck ever”

The following day, Harry leaves Y/N in his bed as he goes to the kitchen looking for Nadia. He was wondering where she was. Yet there she sat in his shirt, crying at the counter.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re really asking me that?” She wipes away a tear as she sarcastically laughs.

“Why?”

“I know you like her.” She closes her eyes. “You told me there was nothing to worry about but the way you treated her last night… it’s a whole new story.”

“Nadia, we had a lot to drink I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.” Harry tries to reason with her. There is no way he likes Y/N. she’s normal and he’s famous. She wouldn’t want to be part of his mess. She’s basically out of his league anyway.

“Harry! You legit fucked me for 3 minutes while making you and her cum five times.” Harry covers his face with his hands.

“You suggested it, didn’t you?” He retaliates. “I don’t know what happened last night. You should’ve said something. It was her first time.”

“I think you’re forgetting it’s my first time too.” Nadia mumbles. Harry immediately shuts up as he feels the guilt in his chest. Nadia puts her coffee mug in the sink before going up to him. “Be honest. Do you like her? Was last night really the best fuck you ever had.”

“I don’t fucking like her Nad!” Harry groans. “She’s my best friend and I did that because I didn’t want to make her feel left out. I’m sorry.”

“I d-”

“I’ll make it up to you, okay?” Harry steps forward to put his hands on her shoulders. He didn’t like Y/N. They were just friends. Nadia is who he is seeing. “She wasn’t even that good. I was just showing her the ropes. Every time she made me cum I was thinking of you.” Nadia laughs but Harry gulps as he knows that was for sure a lie. Y/N was a living wet dream last night. He was pretty much still thinking of her when he woke up today with her laying down on his chest.

“Glad to know.” A voice speaks up. Y/N was dressed in a spare shirt she had in the house as she stood by the archway. She was nervous to see them in the kitchen but she had hope that everyone would forget about last night “Thanks for teaching me.” She sarcastically replies. She leaves the house without another word.

Harry. Harry, her best friend who basically said yes to her last night was now shoving her dignity up her ass. She could even feel a tear fall down her face after what she heard from him. She knew she was new to it all but to be judged at a time you were the most vulnerable is fucked up. She expected more from them. From his especially, since last night he couldn’t shut up about her.

“Y/N, don’t go,” Harry yells out as he stood at his door watching her go to her car. “I- That’s not what I meant.”

“Fuck you!” She coldly replies as she opens her door. She tosses her purse and last night’s clothes in the passenger seat before closing the car door for herself.

“Y/N. Baby, don’t go. Nadia was jealous about last night.” Harry pleads as he taps her window. She opens it slowly and sighs.

“Was she not the one who initiated it?” She snaps as she puts her sunglasses on. “I knew last night was a mistake.”

“Y/N. It wasn’t -hey, get out of the car. Can we talk?”

“I don’t feel like talking. That’s the problem.” She rubs her cheek in frustration. “It’s not your fault okay? I just need time.”

“Time for what?”“

Time to understand that things are different for us now.”

“No, it’s not. You’re my best friend. Y/N come-”

“Harry, I’ll reach out just give me some time.” She repeats to him.

It’s been a week since Y/N ghosted Harry. A week absolutely too long, in his opinion. Their routine used to be solid. They would facetime, visit each other, and honestly just talk. Some nights they watched movies, some nights they made dinner but at least they were together. As much as Nadia was mad about that night, she forgave Harry because he’s right. She initiated it so the most she can do is let go of her anger. But maybe it wasn’t just Harry lying to himself.

“You okay?” Mitch asks him as they sat in his home studio trying to make a new song.

“Y/N is mad at me.” He lets go of the guitar on his lap to scratch his nose. “She asked for some space but I don’t know for how long.”

“You miss her.”

“No.” Harry lies because missing her was already another tunnel into a statement he denied. He is not romantically interested in her. “I wish she came back that’s all. She’s stressing me out.”

“You miss her because you realized she wasn’t the problem.” Mitch pushes further. He smirks a bit as he watches Harry become speechless. “I don’t know what happened to you guys but don’t let her out of your sight. You might not realize she’s gone.”

And as Harry pretended to sit there like he didn’t care, a strong feeling in his chest arose. Something that’s been buried deep for way too long.

2 months later.

“Happy birthday Sarah!” Y/N greets her as she walks into her home. It was Sarah’s birthday and Mitch decided to throw her a surprise party.

“Thank you so much.” She smiles as she hugs her. “I haven’t seen you in so long, where have you been?

”“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.” Y/N answers truthfully. She puts Sarah’s gift on the table beside them as the birthday girl takes her hand to lead her into the living room.

“Guess who’s here!” Sarah yells out to her friends. Nadia sitting on Harry’s lap was the first one to notice Y/N and soon after the man underneath noticed too.

“Hi, guys!” Y/N smiles as she tries to ignore the couple on the couch. Harry was about to greet her when a man walked up behind Y/N.

“Babe, here’s your charger.” The guy hands it to her as he puts his arm behind her lower back.

“Thanks.” She smiles sweetly as she holds his hand instead. “This is Brendan. We’ve been dating for a while.” She proudly introduces him to everyone.

“You finally got a boyfriend?” Mitch teases as he drinks his beer beside Harry. “Nice to meet you.” Brendan nods as he greets him back. Overall, Y/N was happy, he came with her because the way Harry was looking at her made her not feel so good.

As the party continued, Y/N’s boyfriend stuck to her like a lost little boy. At least that’s what Harry thought. After Nadia went swimming in the backyard with some other girls, he sat with Mitch secretly observing Y/N. She looked happy and overall, just pretty... really pretty.

As other guests walked around the house socializing, Sarah and Mitch sat with Harry at the couches while Y/N and Brendan made their way over towards them. “Glad to see you again.” Harry greets Y/N nonchalantly as he raises his beer to them. His eyes were focused on the TV that was playing some movie.

“You too. It’s nice to see you and Nadia still together.”

“Yeah.” He replies and after some silence, he realized he needed to get out of here. “I’m going to the kitchen.” He sighs as he rubs his thighs. Y/N wanted to follow him. She knew it was going to be awkward seeing him again but she didn’t expect him to be this mad. Does he even have the right to be?

“Brendan, I’m going to get a snack actually. Why won’t you ask Mitch about how his job works since you were wondering?”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Brendan looks confused as she steps away from the conversation. Y/N walks to the kitchen and sees Harry biting his cheek as he munched on some chips from the bowls laid out.

“I know you were mad about me wanting some space but I don’t know why you’re still mad about it.” Harry laughs sarcastically as he watches her.

“It’s been 2 months and you’re asking me why I’m mad?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you’d be happy to see me again.”

“No, Y/N. I would be happy if you got out of your fucking car that day to talk to me. I would be happy if you just told me why you needed space.

”“You’re telling me it’s not clear to you?” She crosses her arms against her chest.

“I expected you to come back!” He looks around the kitchen and lowers his voice. “It’s a bit hard to see someone everyday then suddenly they disappear.” He scoffs. “You wouldn’t answer my texts or my calls.”

“We shouldn’t have done what we did that night.” She mumbles. “It was the alcohol and the temptation that influenced us and at the end, it’s what destroyed us.”

“Do you regret it?” He closes his eyes, praying she didn’t. Because maybe just maybe, that night meant a lot to her the same way it did to him. Does he love her? Yes, but romantically? He has no fucking idea. He just misses her.

“I don’t know.” Not the answer he wanted. “Look it’s not your fault nor was it Nadia’s but I think our choice made me realize who I am in your life.”

“Not to be fucking clueless but what does that even mean?”

“Yes, I’m your best friend but at the end of the day, you saw me as a girl you pitied that night. A girl that meant nothing to you but just for your pleasure.” She clarifies for him.

“Y/N what? That’s not true. How-”

“I heard what you said to Nadia.” She shakes her head “I’m not stupid. I know how those work but I expected more from you. I just thought you wouldn’t see me that way. We had so many moments together that night and I finally realized how good of a man you are for me. Yet the next day, I hear you tell your girlfriend that I suck in bed and you were using me. Hurts a bit.” She sarcastically laughs. “Who am I kidding? That hurts a lot.”

“What so you love me now?” He retaliates. “Nadia was jealous. I had to tell her that. It doesn’t mean it’s true!”

“Funny thing is - I do love you, Harry. That night. it made me realize that maybe I was in love with you this whole time! You were so sweet and gentle and it made me feel good. You made me feel safe but I didn’t need you to throw my feelings back at my face!”

“In love with me?” Harry hysterically repeats after her. “You’re dating some loser named Brendan and you’re telling me you’re in love with me?”

“So you’re saying you did not feel anything that night?” She bites her cheek, trying not to cry. He stays silent, pretending to look at the chips and deciding what to eat next. “Goodbye, Harry.”

“Y/N.” He speaks up as he denies her eye contact. “I don’t like you that way. I don’t and I never will.” His last words burned in her head. As well as in her heart. God, she’s crazy.

But maybe he’s worst.

He said that lie a million times in his head and saying that to Y/N made it feel 100% more real. He doesn’t like her because she’s normal. She’s perfect and she’s his best friend. Friends don’t call their friends baby. Friends don’t look at Y/N the way he does. That’s why he’s going to stick to this decision. If he has to lose her as a friend then fine because no way in hell would he lose her if they were together.

Because that hurts more and Harry is tired of hurting.

Part 2 Part 3

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #smut #harry styles blurbs #one direction #one direction smut #one direction fanfic #fineline #Smutty blurb #soft!y/n

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chrizbang · 3 years

Photo

Pairing: female reader x Seo Changbin x Bang Chan feat. Lee Felix

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected sex, foursome (kinda), the members have sex with each other, oral sex, swearing, anal sex, cream pie. This is very dirty.

Word count: 1.695

A/N: All credits goes to my friend @parachuuuus who had this idea hdfyihuasof 💖

“Do you want to fuck her, Changbin?”

Chan, 8:57 am: Can you come to my clinic today? At 9 pm?

Chan, 8:57 am: I have a new assistant and I need your help.

Y/N, 9:00 am: how am I going to help you? I’m not a doctor, lol

Chan, 9:01 am: Y/N…

Felix, 9:01 am: Can you come, please?

Y/N, 9:02 pm: bruh

Y/N, 9:03 pm: okay

“Who the fuck schedules a doctor’s appointment so late at night?” Felix asked.

“Hey, it was his idea, not mine, okay?”

You and Felix have been friends with benefits for a while. It started as an innocent friendship but it was hard to resist him since he was so handsome. Sometimes he would take you to places since he had a car and you didn’t and you would repay him by having sex with him. It was a win-win situation.

“Why are you all dressed up to a doctor’s appointment?” he asked, looking you up and down. “Are you excited to see Channie?”

“Oh, please. I know you have a crush on him as much as I do.” You rolled your eyes.

“I saw the dude one time at a party and said that he was cute and now I have a crush on him? Anyway, we are here.” Felix parked the car in front of the clinic.

“Thank you for driving me. You can leave if you want, I don’t know how long the medical appointment is going to be.”

“I think I’m going to a coffee shop nearby. Text me when you’re done.”

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him. You kissed his cheek and got out of the car.

For most people, going to the gynecologist was something unpleasant. Being naked and exposed in front of someone you are not close with is, understandably, disagreeable.

Not for you. Your doctor was Bang Chan, a handsome man, owner of the clinic and, also another friend with benefits of yours.

You still remember the first time you saw him. He welcomed you into his room. He was attentive and educated. You couldn’t stop blushing. Ever since, you had sex with him a few times, which doesn’t happen often since he’s really busy.

You talked to the lady at the reception and waited for your turn. You noticed that there was no one besides you in the clinic, probably because it was late.

You were excited, you shaved and you were wearing your best panties. You know that Chan was always professional but that didn’t stop you from looking good.

“Miss Y/N? You may come in,” the receptionist called you. You took a deep breath and got up, trying to keep calm.

“Hello, Y/N,” you heard him saying while you entered the room. He was sitting at the table, looking at something on his computer. When you were finally inside, you saw that there was someone else with him.

“This is Changbin, my assistant. He just graduated and he needs experience. Changbin, this is Y/N.”

“Hello,” you said, waving at Changbin, who simply nodded.

Changbin was standing next to Chan’s chair, he looked very shy and embarrassed. He was looking down and avoiding your eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. He was a little shorter than Chan but as handsome as him. His thick arms looked like they would tear apart the sleeves of his coat.

“Y/N, I need you to take off your pants and lay at the gynecological table, please,” Chan said.

You did as you were told, as much as you were a little embarrassed to be naked in front of them, you were also excited.

“Nice panties,” Chan remarked, making you blush.

You lay down there, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“You can put your legs here, Y/N,” Chan suggested, touching the leg support at the table. You hesitated for a second but complied.

There you were, exposed for them.

Chan started to talk to Changbin about medical terms that you weren’t able to understand.

Suddenly, you felt Chan’s hand on your thigh. Just standing there while he talked. Sometimes he would squeeze your thigh, but all of his attention was on Changbin. You weren’t paying attention to their conversation but you were sure that you heard Chan say something along with the words “g-spot”.

“Why don’t you take a try?” Chan asked Changbin. He hesitated for a moment but got closer to the table.

“Excuse me,” Changbin whispered. You felt his cold hand touching your folds and you squirmed, startling him, who removed his hand immediately.

“Sorry,” he whimpered.

“It’s okay, it’s just that your hands are a little cold.” You assured him and Changbin went back to touching you.

It looked like he was exploring your private parts.

“Use this,” Chan commented, handing him a pack of lube.

Changbin poured some on your folds and you squirmed again.

“Ah, this is cold.”

“Sorry,” he apologized.

Changbin started to run his middle finger up and down on your lips, spreading out the lube. His finger would brush again your clit sometimes, which made you hold a moan. Then, he started to slide his finger into your hole. You looked at Chan and he watched everything closely, with a serious expression.

You wanted to laugh because it looked like anything but a simple doctor’s appointment.

“Bend your finger and try delicately pressing at the top wall of her pussy.”

“How will I know it is the g-spot?”

“It has a slightly rough texture than the rest of the wall.”

Changbin fingered you some more but he looked frustrated.

“I can’t do it,” he whined.

“Let me show you.” Chan stepped on his place and inserted his finger inside of you. It took seconds before you moaned, indicating that he found it.

“See? Keep trying, Changbin.” Chan took his finger out of you, making you whine because of the emptiness.

“Shh, you’re gonna get your reward soon,” he cooed at you.

Changbin started again, with a firmer touch. It took him some minutes but he finally found it.

“I think I did it,” he said after seeing you thrusting your hips against his finger.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned.

“Good job,” Chan praised him, making Changbin’s cheek go red.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he continued. “Do you want to fuck her, Changbin?”

Changbin’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. “I-I don’t k-no-” “Don’t lie to me,” Chan scolded him. “I can see the erection in your pants.” Chan’s hands ran through your folds, collecting your wetness. “Do you want him to fuck you, Y/N?” You nodded. “Use your words,” he demanded. “Yes, I want him to fuck me,” you whined. “Get up and sit on the table.” You sat in the corner of the table with your legs hanging around. Changbin unbuttoned and lowered his pants. His dick slapped against his abdomen, dripping pre-cum. You watched while he approached you, holding on to your thighs. He opened your legs and licked his lips at the sight of your dripping pussy. He pumped his dick a few times before penetrating you slowly. You threw your head back, Changbin’s dick was average but thick. “Fuck,” you whined. Changbin immediately started thrusting on you at a frenetic pace. You tried to control your moans, afraid that the people outside the room would hear. Suddenly, you heard the sound of a belt hitting the floor. Chan was lowering his pants and freeing his dick. He got closer to Changbin and spread his cheeks, penetrating him. Changbin stopped pounding on you for a moment while he moaned, feeling Chan filling him up. “F-fuck, so good,” he whined when he started to move again. All the three of you stayed there, trying to muffle your moans.

Chan slid his hand under your t-shirt to grab your tits. “Take it off,” he growled. You took off your shirt and Chan pulled your bra down, exposing your tits. “So fucking hot,” Changbin moaned, bending over to lick your boobs, making Chan go deeper. “I-I’m gonna cum,” Changbin whispered. Not long after, he came inside of you, filling you. “Fuck, Changbin. Look at the mess you’ve made,” Chan teased. “Clean it up.” Changbin got on his knees and started to lick your pussy, tasting his own cum. “What the fuck is going on?” Felix questioned, opening the door. He went inside the clinic after noticing that you were taking too long to come back. The receptionist looked disinterested while she scrolled on her phone with her headphones on, so he went straight to Chan’s room when he heard you moaning. Everyone looked at each other, without any idea of what to say. “Do you want to join us?” you questioned Felix. “W-what? of course not,” Felix said. “Are you sure?” Chan insisted. Chan noticed that Felix was looking at this dick ever since he entered the room. “Come here,” he said, in a soft voice. Felix got closer to Chan, who told him to get on his knees. Chan grabbed his dick and put it in front of Felix’s mouth, who instantly started to suck it. At this point, Changbin went back to licking you. His tongue played with your clit until you came, moaning loudly. Chan demanded that Felix touched himself through his pants while he deep-throated him. It didn’t take long for both of them to cum. Felix swallowed all of Chan’s cum while he came in his pants. “Good boy,” Chan praised him. While you got dressed up, you noticed that Felix’s cheeks were bright red. You thought it was cute how embarrassed he got in front of Chan. “Thank you for your help, Y/N,” Chan said, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. He stayed with Changbin and they started to talk about something as if an orgy didn’t just happen in his room. You left with Felix, avoiding looking at the receptionist when you walked through the door. You sat in the car with Felix, who looked thoughtful. “Are you okay?” you asked. “When is your next doctor’s appointment? I’ll gladly take you.” You rolled your eyes and laughed. You knew the fun wasn’t over because you still had unfinished business with Felix.

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psychiatristreturning · 4 years

Text

masterlist

taglist is open!! message me or ask to be added to either the stranger things OR west wing list!

my twitter is @ cowb0ylikery

stranger things;

steve harrington

run away with me

500 words|| steve needs you to know just how much he cares about you

remember prom?

1k|| when overhearing steve and dustin talk about a mystery girl, you get jealous. steve wants to know why.

don’t fall on your ass

1k|| dustin has a masterplan to get you and steve together that just may involve rollerskating.

where did that come from?

100|| steve finds you incredibly hot in the worst situation.

the snowball

625|| while dropping your sister off at the snowball dance you strike up a conversation with a familiar face.

four times steve knew he loved you and the one time he told you

2.6k|| what it says

yell for it

270|| maybe the worst torture is being without him.

too cute

425|| el sees you and steve being cute and tells max. who knew it was so easy to tease the two of you?

to hand holding

403|| steve always let’s you play with his hair, but you want to know if just thinks of you as a friend.

she’s shy

530|| what did you hear steve say?

being alive

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

completed || a compilation of moments where you realized who was always there, no matter what, and truly loved you. steve harrington. (steve harrington x henderson!reader)

just a smoke

736|| when steve makes his way to his car after fighting with nancy, he runs into you, who is sitting on his car.

robin buckley

maybe this time

1.2k|| robin comes out, and maybe this time you’ll be lucky...

the art (or lack) of subtlety

839|| you and robin have been dating for awhile but aren’t public, but steve thinks he knows what’s up.

hopper

two times you and hopper almost kissed and the one time you did

1k|| just what the title suggests.

ranking

606|| teen!hopper x reader; you and hopper almost reveal your feelings for each other

the west wing;

sam seaborn

i was wondering..

550|| you and sam are getting married soon, and you need someone to walk you down the aisle.

north dakota

1k|| toby knows that you’re in love with sam

who told you?

1k|| you aren’t telling anyone the sex of your baby, except one person...

not even my wife stayed

700|| josh is fine, but you’re shot at rosslyn. and sam is worried

i wouldn’t mind

1k|| being the president’s niece is nice, especially when the deputy speechwriter is really cute.

finally

650|| you never expected to see sam again.

dinner rush

500|| you would never come back, you vowed, unless...

they’re proud

1.3k|| the senior staff hasn’t seen sam in two years, little did they know that he had a family.

too early for this

600|| the staff wonders why you’re so secretive of your personal life, when the president lets it spill why.

the bet

900|| you and sam got engaged, who will notice the ring first.

3:22 pm

1k|| the senior staff meets your daughter.

when the vice president asks

730|| you and sam are in a fight, and josh just has to insert himself.

flowers

785|| you’re new to the white house and sam sticks up for you.

“suddenly he was in the radius of her perfume and kissing her breathlessly.”

680|| you finally attend a white house party.

toby ziegler forty minutes late

1.1k|| you’re not okay. and toby knows.

champagne problems

400|| you reflect on your unrequited love when toby’s twins are born.

no answer

495|| the president is more off a busybody than you thought.

josh lyman i have my ways

1k|| you tell josh something big, and hope he doesn’t hate you.

hope you like disney

1.3k|| donna and cj help you figure out something.

surprise

400|| donna has a vistor for josh...

bad idea

315|| sometimes you and josh both need a bad idea.

front page

843|| when you and josh are spotted out together, it’s published. how will your dad react to finding out that his daughter is dating his deputy.

donna moss

“i love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything.”

500|| a reporter asks c.j. about a rumor that you and donna are dating. is it true?

gaza (can be part two to the above fic)

1,172|| you go to germany when donna is hurt during the gaza arc.

headcanons;

toby ziegler:

first date

proposing

domestic

pet names

as a dad

sam seaborn:

while wife is pregnant

small drabble from prompt list!

josh lyman:

as a dad

telling stories

first date w/josh lyman

proposing

valentine’s day

cuddling

cooking dinner

pet names

donna moss:

dating donna moss

asking donna on a date

first valentine’s day

finishing her degree (not x reader)

donna and board games

all headcanons relating to donna x reader with their daughter diana

donna + diana (older headcanon)

the guy on tv (adopted daughter headcanons)

sam and josh being cool uncles

robin buckley:

domestic life w/robin

robin being protective

coming out to robin

robin with a plus size gf

cuddling with robin

robin w/short gf

robin w/spiritual gf

first fight w/robin

pet names

period comfort

getting high

steve harrington:

sleepover

gf w/curly hair

tired s/o

dustin walking in

first fight w/steve

slow dancing and comfort

working w/steve at scoops ahoy

braiding hair

dancer gf

hopper!gf

wheeler!gf

tall gf

volleyball player!gf

byers!gf

steve with a new baby

enemies to lovers (pt. 2)

pregnant wife

bisexual gf

small drabble

clingy gf

nurse gf

gf with freckles

nerdy teens

#josh lyman x reader #josh lyman #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #toby ziegler x reader #toby ziegler #sam seaborn x reader #sam seaborn #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley

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driven-by-bri · 3 years

Text

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻

Wordcount: 1179

Warnings: Slight fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, awkwardness, tiny bit of daddy & praise kink (OVERALL FILTH, 18+)

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Brian May

Sypnosis/Annotation: You and your boyfriend 'do it' for the first time

*************************

Backstory - You and Brian met at a school dance last week, got your first kiss and became girlfriend and boyfriend, but your dad doesn't really approve because of your relationship because 'it's slavery', but your mum is very teasy about it.

It's 11:30 PM, and the house is preparing for bedtime.

"Goodnight, sweetheart!" Your mum said while your dad is still mad:

"Night, Y/N." He said angrily.

They both go to bed, and before mum closes the door, she winks at you.

She also locks their bedroom's door and you go upstairs to yours, a bit embarrassed from the wink you received from your mum. Why did she do that? Did she know something you didn't?

After another short conversation with a poster on your wall, you lock your door and find a sexy maid outfit that was hidden in the back of the closet, just in case the things that your drawings' hallucinations said are gonna be true

The outfit was for playing Cinderella with mum when you were younger. Though now it's gotten too small and not really your style, so your mum made some size and fashion adjustments.

At around 11:50 PM you hear a knock on your window. You were in the dark, because you didn't want to seem suspicious being up at midnight. You go closer to the window and see Brian's face on the other side, he actually made it!

You let him in through the window and then close it quietly.

"Hello, love!" Brian kisses you, feeling welcome as he should be.

"Hi!" You were 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 happy to see him.

"Wow, you look... Beautiful in that outfit!- and that skirt-"

He flushes red and he's speechless, because he actually had feelings for you.

"Thank you! Your clothes aren't bad either, though~" You smiled at him, but Brian tensed up and said kinda seriously:

"Say, Y/N, uhm... Are you a v-virgin?"

"... Uhm- Yeah-"

This moment was awkward, but he got the courage and said it.

"Are you not afraid to... Change that?"

"No, I am not!" You said bravely, doubting it'll be bad because of some of the stories you've read ans fantasies you've had.

"Brave, Y/N!", Brian was surprised at first, because you're not scared or not asking if it'll hurt.

Then, he shyly asked:

"Mind if we... Make it happen, then?"

"... Sure thing~^" You didn't know if you should believe the many women saying that it's painful, or should you just go with it.

"Tell me, how far I can go, okay?"

"Mhm-", you say as you both sit down on your bed, Brian puts a pillow behind your back and lifts up the black skirt and carefully slides off your underwear.

"Ready, Y/N?"

"Mm.. yeah~ A bit nervous though.."

"It's okay.. you can tell me if you want me to stop."

He slowly slides one finger inside and you get slightly heated.

"This okay?"

"M-mhm," You whimper, but try to keep it quiet because you don't want to get caught.

"How about this?" He adds another finger and once they're in, he keeps them still, slowly stretching you out.

"Is this good, does it not hurt?"

"N-no, not at all..you can keep going~"

'𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮' you think and then he starts fingering you slowly. He goes on like this for a few seconds, then pulls them out. His fingers are covered in your arousal.

"Alright then, shall we get started?"

Brian unbottons his shirt and starts taking off his trousers.

"Or do you want to do it for me?"

"Uhmmm... sure~"

He takes his hands off himself and lets you undress him. Though, you remember some tricks from the fics and decide to use them on Brian in right here, right now.

You palm him through his trousers, feeling how big and erect he is under.

"Tssss~" He hisses: "Where'd you learn that?"

"I don't know.. just thought of it~" You answered, trying to hide the fact you were waiting for this moment forever.

"That's enough please.."

"Alright fine, I'll stop that~"

You pull down both Brian's trousers and briefs at the same time and his cock springs out immediately, pre-cum leaking from the tip. Brian moved the pillow you were laying on to be under your ass before he hovered over you and his tip slightly goes over your folds.

"Please~" You let out a small moan.

"Alright fine, this is the first and definitely not last time. -v-"

And after that, he inserts himself for real and stops.

"You alrigh-"

"I'm green! Very green!" You whined: "Do it~~"

Brian starts a slow pace of subtle thrusts,

putting his hand slightly over your mouth so you don't make much noise.

"You're doing so well~"

"Mmm.. Am I good enough for daddy?" You moan out, muffled.

"Yes, very good.."

Brian almost pulls out and then slams right back in repeatedly, cooing and calling you sweet names while you're moaning. He keeps doing this for a little while but then suddenly stops.

You become a bit disappointed of the loss.

"You alright, princess?"

"Yes, daddy.." You basically whined back: "But why'd you stop?"

"Because^.."

Then Brian pulls off your dress and clips open the bra with one hand while moving his tongue around your nipple and eventually sucks on it.

His dick starts moving again, hitting your g-spot once in a while.

"ohhh yeah, babe- 𝘂𝘂𝘂𝗴𝗵~"

He's grinning because he knows that he's the one making you feel so good right now.

Brian takes a blanket and pulls it over you both. He kisses you passionatly with his tongue, constantly meeting yours.

He cups your boob, but then things get really heated when he starts touching around your ass and flicking his tongue on your nipple almost violently. You can't take it anymore.

"Bri I can't! I'm- ohh- I'm going to cum!"

"Go on, do it before I do~

I know you can!"

You both were panting at this point and close to your orgasms. Multiple moans escaped your mouth as you came on Brian's shaft, but he was still going at it - moving inside you and riding out his high as he heavily moaned and cummed and spilled his seed inside you.

He pulled out, layed next to you and whispered:

"How was that, Y/N?"

"The best."

"How can you know it's the best if it's your first?"

"Because it was the best.. just a fact.... You're so big, Bri~"

"And you're a dream girl, Y/N." He smiled at you.

You had cum all over your inner thighs, but you didn't care if you'd get in trouble. You were asleep, with Bri.

Just Bri and you. You and Bri. The man of your dreams was with you, in bed, and you were no longer a virgin. You both happily slept together, snuggling, cuddling and satisfied.

#brian may imagine #brian may #brian may smut #brian may x reader #queen smut #queen band #queen

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something-tofightfor · 3 years

Text

Magnetic: Chapter 2 - All The Time in The Galaxy

Pairing: None, yet. (female reader insert; no ‘Y/N’)

Word count: 6,547

Rating: None necessary.

Summary: You receive the answer you’ve been waiting for - and get to give Grogu some news. But will you be able to handle what’s expected of you?

Author’s note:

Check out the earlier parts of this story by visiting my Masterlist

Friday night’s going to be a weekly thing for this story moving forward. I want to try to have it up around 6-7 PM EST, but I got very sidetracked today, so it’s late. Thanks for sticking with me on this one, and for your messages and feedback. I’m excited for the next few parts, because the story really gets going after this.

Nothing much ese to say here except that if you want to be tagged, please let me know and I can add you before the next chapter. Enjoy.

(banner made by @malionnes)

By the end of the following day, you were exhausted. After returning to the Academy with Luke, you’d gone back to your room, tucking the crystal safely into your top drawer and then taken a long, hot shower before falling into your bed.

But you hadn’t slept long, eyes flying open again late afternoon when your door cracked open, the floating cradle at eye level. “Hey, kid.” You laid back against the pillows, taking a deep breath as he moved toward you, and then turned your head to look at him. “What do you -” You were gone. Closing your eyes again, you took a breath and nodded. “I was. Had to leave for a little while. It was important. But I’m back now, and -” Bari? You sat up at that, knees bent and feet flat on the mattress, staring straight into his eyes and shaking your head firmly. “No. It was for Master Skywalker. I had to go and do something with him, kiddo.” You reached out and Grogu reached back for you, waiting until you had a hold on him to start cooing, ears moving back and down. “You’re talkative today.”

His mind was a jumble of thoughts, and as you concentrated on them, you felt yourself relaxing again as he spoke to you that way, filling you in on what you’d missed. Oh, kid. I was only gone for a few hours, did you really miss me that much? Yes. Leaning down, you kissed the top of his head before you sat straight up and swallowed. Grogu looked up at you, lifting one arm toward your face, his eyes blinking slowly. You could tell he was off - that your absence had truly thrown him, and you shut your eyes, wrinkling your nose. “Won’t leave you here again, kid. I promise.” The two of you stayed like that for long moments, and then another of the Grogu’s thoughts reached your mind, this one stronger than the others. Hungry. Of course you are.

With a laugh, you opened your eyes again and swiftly lifted him back into his cradle, still smiling. Yeah, me too. Let’s go get dinner. Only a few minutes later, you and Grogu were making your way down the hallway side by side, stopping to say hello to a few of the people that you passed. Despite the unsease you felt sometimes from the others, Grogu was popular with the other students and Masters in the Academy, and you expected the delay, but the longer it took, the hungrier you got - and you felt that Grogu was the same. By the time you were seated at one of the tables, him floating next to you, the fatigue you felt was coming back full force, and you knew that once you ate, you’d need to go back to sleep for a few hours.

Sick? His question surprised you and you quickly told Grogu no, swallowing the food you were chewing. “No. Just really tired. I’ll be fine tomorrow, I just need sleep. You know how it is. You sleep for days at a time, kid. Sometimes. You grinned at him, rolling your eyes and gently flicking the sleeve of his robes. Whatever you say. It was his turn to laugh before he returned to his dinner and you did the same, eating quickly.

You kept up a steady stream of conversation with him mentally as you ate, and even though you were the quietest two in the room, it didn’t bother you. You were surrounded by people like you, people that understood you - people your age and older that would have been more than happy to talk to you, but you were happy to stay with Grogu, happy to indulge his questions and stories, keeping him company - and keeping him occupied. “Just you and me, kid.” You raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a lopsided smile. “Unless you -” But your thought was interrupted by the appearance of Bari, standing behind you and clearing his throat. The young man said your name, and you heard the apprehension in it before you turned, Grogu doing the same in his cradle, his head peeking over the top of it to stare upward. “Yeah?”

“You’re being called to Comm Bay 3.” He frowned. “That’s all I know, but you’re supposed to go now, he said it was important.” He who? “And you need to go alone.” He glanced over at Grogu, and then back at you. “I can walk with you, but -” You shook your head, averting your eyes and looking back at Grogu. Maybe I’m in trouble, kid. He laughed at that, scrunching his nose and lowering his ears, and you laughed, waving a hand. I’m kidding. I’ll see you later. You lifted a hand to run your fingers over the top of one of his ears, rubbing the tip of it gently and then stood, reaching for your mostly empty tray.

“I’ll be ok, Bari. Thanks, though.” But the man followed you as you walked across the cafeteria, waiting patiently as you dumped your tray and then turned toward the doorway. “Seriously, I’m fine, I know where the Bay is, I -”

“We’re all going out this weekend. Going to go get dinner and have some drinks at one of the cantinas in town.” He licked his lips, waiting for you to respond. “You should come. You’ve been distant for the last couple of weeks, and then you just went missing last night, so you’ve obviously been doing something.” He paused. “You deserve a break.” Bari reached for your arm, touching your elbow gently as you walked into the hallway and toward the lift. “Come out with me. I promise it’s just some drinks and dinner, and there’ll be -”

“Look.” You turned toward him, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your chest. “Let me see what this is about first. I can’t think of anything that I’ve done that would lead to being … summoned like this, but … who knows.” He looked shocked, but you continued. “I’ll let you know, alright? Just …” You pressed the button, sighing. “I’ll come find you when I’m done, alright?” That seemed to be enough for him because he didn’t say anything else to you - but as the doors closed behind you, you caught a strong wash of hope coming from him, focused on the fact that you hadn’t outright turned him down. It had happened so quickly that you weren’t able to clearly think about the reason that you’d been summoned - or who requested your presence - until the doors slid open and you stepped in front of the door to Comm Bay 3. It’s him. He responded. This is about…

Before you could lift a hand to knock, the second set of doors opened too, and you caught a glimpse of Luke standing in front of the large holotable at the center of the room, hands behind his back. That’s the Mandalorian. Your eyes widened as you stepped further into the room, taking in the broad shoulders and chest of the man projected above the table, the curved helmet easily discernible, even in the flickering light. “Come closer.” Luke spoke to you without looking. “I’ve already listened, but wanted to play the message for you.” Heart pounding, you stood next to him, waiting. “Why are you so anxious?” Luke finally looked over at you, a small smile on his face. “You knew -”

“Because this could change everything.” For me. For Grogu. For the galaxy. “I -”

“You shouldn’t worry.” Luke used his chin to gesture toward a button in front of him. “Go ahead.” Hand shaking slightly, you reached out, one finger pressing the button down to begin the message. You’d heard the Mandalorian’s voice through Grogu’s thoughts before, but hearing it for real shocked you, the deep tone no less imposing, though you could tell that it was heavily modulated. I wonder what it sounds like without the … But you shook your head, willing yourself to focus.

“Master Skywalker. My quest was to bring Grogu to his kind, and that’s what I did.” There was a pause, and you felt your heart sink. “When you came and took him from Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, I completed that quest. He was … he is safe with you, with the Jedi.” Oh no. He’s saying no. I was wrong, I … “You’ve updated me on his progress, and I thank you for that, but …” You saw it - the slight lowering of the Mandalorian’s shoulders that had nothing to do with the weight of his armor. “This is The Way. I don’t want to …” He paused again, lowering his helmet and you heard a quiet phrase escape from him; the words dank farrik sounding harsh in your ears. Oh, come on, Mandalorian. I can see that you don’t want to say this, why are you … “I just want what’s best for the kid. That’s all I …” There was another quiet span of seconds, Luke immobile next to you, and then the Mandalorian spoke again, tone steady. “You know how to reach me. I’ll be waiting.” The transmission ended there, and you stood in stunned silence, staring at the frozen figure in front of you. “Is he saying that he doesn’t… that Grogu’s better off …” You were confused, to say the least. You’d assumed that the Mandalorian would jump at the opportunity to have Grogu back with him, even for a short time, but it sounded like - it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself to say no.

“I agree.” Luke cleared his throat. “Did you know that Grogu - and others with his ability level can completely shut off their thoughts, eliminating their connection to the Force?” You nodded. “That’s how he survived, by cutting himself off from it. He does that with me a lot, keeps his thoughts … hidden.” He’s never done that with me, not after that first time. Luke’s smile turned into a grin. “I know he hasn’t.” He gestured to the holotable. “That’s why you’re here now. Because you’re going to convince the Mandalorian that what’s best for Grogu now is to be with him.” Me? Luke nodded, and you reached up to rub a hand over your face.

“Alright.” You let out a breath, closing your eyes. “Do you want me to send a -”

“No. He sent over instructions to reach him directly through the radio.” Your eyes went to the left, toward the communications equipment, and the two of you walked over toward it, Luke gesturing for you to take a seat. “He may not answer, but … if he does? What you say is up to you.” Up to me? That’s… “You’ve got the strongest connection with Grogu out of any of us. It has to be you.” He typed in a few things onto the board, various lights blinking, and before he pushed the final one to send the call, you gave him a single nod. You can do this. It’s for the kid.

There was silence at first and then a slight crackle, followed by the clearing of a throat. “Hello?” His voice sounds different. “Are -”

“Mandalorian.” Luke spoke, leaning back in his seat. “We got your message.”

“I didn’t think you’d call.” His voice is… You blinked, trying to figure out what was different. Is it the radio? “I wasn’t -”

“I’ve got someone I’d like you to talk to.” Luke glanced at you. “She’s the one I mentioned in my first holo, the one that’s gotten -”

“Tell me your name.” The command surprised you, because you weren’t used to anyone giving orders besides the Jedi Masters, but you replied almost immediately, giving your first and last names. “You’re Grogu’s... friend?” This is it. You have to make him believe.

“Yes, Mandalorian. Can I call you that - Mandalorian? I don’t know your -”

“Yes.” There was a long silence. “You can. Is Grogu -”

“He’s great, actually. Really smart, really funny. He… he talks about you a lot. Not really talks, but he says that it’s like it was with Ahsoka, whatever that means.”

“You can hear his thoughts.” Agreeing, you waited. “Is he happy?” You heard the man’s sadness in the simple question, and you knew that part of him wanted to hear that yes, the child was happy and thriving, but another part wanted to hear that he wasn’t, that he missed the Mandalorian.

“Sometimes.” You chose the honest path, seeing Luke nod almost imperceptibly next to you. “It’s been good for him to be around others like him, and he’s learned a lot, but he can’t … he’s not as focused as he needs to be.” You swallowed. “He sneaks into my room at night sometimes, Mandalorian. The door opens and he’s climbing into bed with me, like he doesn’t … like he’s not used to sleeping alone, even after all this time. The kid just wants … I don’t know, he just kind of babbles as he thinks, and at night? A lot of it’s about you.” You laughed. “I almost feel like I know you, and we’ve never met, because he … I don’t know how he is with other people, but stars, he loves you.” It slipped out before you could stop yourself and you froze, covering your mouth with one hand.

Straining your ears, you could have sworn you heard the man swear on the other end of the radio, but he recovered quickly. “I thought he had to complete his training before he leaves the Academy, before he can become a Jedi, so why are you -”

“He might be young, but he still deserves a choice.” Luke sighed. “I brought him here because I had to, but I don’t want to keep him here if that’s not what he … wants.”

“But he’s just a child, how does he know what he wants?” Why are you doing this? “I don’t want to be the reason he -”

“If he stays here, his attachment to you might change his life, Mandalorian.” You spoke softly, hoping that Luke wasn’t angry at the interruption. “If he can’t focus on his training, or the fact that he’s here because he’s thinking of you? It won’t do him any good to be here.” He’s run away three times already, and I … Tell him. You met Luke’s eyes, asking for confirmation, and received it with a single tilt of his head. “He’s run away three times. He didn’t go far but it was …” You trailed off, gasping. I didn’t even… “You are … were… a bounty hunter, right?” The Mandalorian confirmed with a sharp yes. “I think he… he was playing a game, like he wanted someone to …someone to find him.” You felt tears in your eyes and lifted a hand to wipe them away. “I know you’re probably very busy, but he … he needs you, Mandalorian. Not the Academy. Not the Jedi. Not the Force. Not me. You’re his …” You searched for the word that you’d heard from Grogu’s mind countless times. “.. his aliit.” His family. All he’s got.

“I don’t want to interrupt him.” You could hear the pain in the words, the man denying what you knew he wanted most. “But I …” Yes. Come on. “There are some things I need to take care of here before I can leave.” You heard the change in his voice, the slight excitement in his tone, and thought of the laugh in the memory Grogu had shown you. “How long are you thinking -”

“A few months?” Luke sighed. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I don’t want to put a time limit on it, because I want you to enjoy your time together, but … however long you -”

“For him?” You heard the laugh again, just as quiet and emotional, and you realized why it sounded different between Grogu’s memories, the holo message and this call. He’s not wearing his helmet. That means he’s somewhere alone. That means this call was entirely private for him. “I have all the time in the galaxy.” You felt a lightness in your chest at his words, and covered your face with both hands in relief. Grogu’s going home. “You mentioned sending him with someone? A chaperone?”

“Yeah.” You felt your relief waning. “About that, Mandalorian, it would be … I’d be coming with Grogu. None of the Knights or Masters can be spared, and since I’m -”

“Are you a Jedi?” He was curious, you could tell by the way the words came out, the man adding your name after a few seconds. “You must be, if you -”

“No. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not. I just … I stopped my training, but I’m still…” You chewed on your lip. “It’s complicated. But no, I’m not a Jedi.” You inhaled. “I do care about the kid. though. A lot. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe before and after he’s with you, even though from what I know about you? It won’t be necessary once you’ve got him back. I’ll just be … there.” The Mandalorian laughed again, this one a little louder, and you finally relaxed, the sound comforting you. How?

“That’s fine. It’ll be good to have someone that can be with him when I can’t.” Glancing at Luke, you saw that the man was smiling, his blue eyes on your face. “And even better to have someone that can tell me what the kid wants instead of me guessing.” It was your turn to laugh at that, the sound loud in the open room. He gave you a few seconds and then cleared his throat. “Where will we meet? How are -”

“We have to keep the location of the Academy secret, so it has to be on a neutral site. The Empire’s in ruins, but they’ve still… there’s still some risk if they find us.” The Mandalorian agreed. “We’ll send the two of them from here to somewhere larger in a transport, and then from there, provide a smaller ship to get them to a location convenient for you.”

“Are you a pilot, too?” You heard a slightly teasing tone in the Mandalorian’s voice, and you were quick to answer him. “No. I mean, I can fly if I need to, but it’s not … not something I’ve got a lot of experience with. Ground vehicles, yeah. Speeders? I’m great, but … space?” You were chewing on your lip, eyes narrowed. “No, sorry.”

“We have pilots.” Luke spoke again. “I just need to know where to -”

“Nevarro.” The single word meant nothing to you, aside form recalling it from Grogu’s stories, but you felt excitement at hearing it nonetheless. “I have … friends there. It’s safe. If I’m late getting there for some reason, Grogu … the people there can be trusted.” As the two men began to talk details, you leaned back in your seat, rubbing at your forehead with your fingertips. He’s going home, and I’m going with him.

You were excited and nervous at the same time, the voices of the men background noise to your thoughts. I’ll need to pack. I’ll need to take pretty much everything, but that feels like … You were pulled out of your thoughts by the Mandalorian repeating your name again, and you blinked furiously to focus. “What? I’m sorry, I -”

“Will you be able to take care of everything to leave in a week?” A week? You looked at Luke, who said nothing, just watching you. “I shouldn’t need longer, but if you -” A refresher course in lightsabers in a week? Saying goodbye to my friends, getting my credits in order …

“A week is perfect.” As soon as you said it, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief. “One question, though. How … how much room will I have for my things? And Grogu’s? He has more now than when he came here, and months are -”

“You’ll have more room on Mandalore than on my ship.” You heard him inhale. “Pack light. Whatever else you need, we can get after … we meet.” Agreeing, you turned your head to the side and pressed a hand to your mouth, closing your eyes. Guess I’m not taking everything. “Is that -”

“That’s fine, Mandalorian.” You spoke quietly, trying to keep your voice even. “More than fine.” The conversation ended shortly after that, and you and Luke sat in silence for long moments, the only sound your breathing.

“You’ll need to begin your build as soon as possible, then.” Glancing over, you saw that the thoughtful look was back on his face. “You can start tonight, if you want, we have materials on hand for you to choose from, and the architect droid is available to you whenever you need it.” Nodding, you felt your heart rate quicken. “But first, it’s time to go and tell Grogu that he’s …” Luke paused, shoulders lowering slightly. “That he’s going back to his clan.”

---

It only took the two of you a few minutes to find the child, toddling around in the supervised room with the other younglings, robes trailing on the ground behind him as they played together. He sensed your presence almost immediately, turning to face you, but stopped moving when he saw Luke standing next to you. Trouble? You smiled, kneeling down and holding your arms out. “Nope, kiddo. Come here.” He walked toward you cautiously, head angled up and looking between you and the man curiously, but when you touched him, you were a split second too slow to wipe the thought of the Mandalorian from your mind, Grogu’s eyes widening and a sharp cry leaving his mouth. Hurt? “No, it’s ok, kid. I promise.”

The three of you walked into the hallway silently, though you knew that Luke could also hear the child’s endless questions, but the man’s mind was blank. Calm down, kid. Give him a second. Grogu narrowed his eyes at you, frowning and you bit back a laugh at the expression, turning him in your arms so that he could look at Luke. “Grogu.” He stilled at the sound of Luke’s voice, going silent. “How would you feel about taking a trip?” Trip? You nodded, and so did Luke. Where? But Luke didn’t respond, instead looking to you. Oh, I get to … You took a deep breath, turning him in your arms again and raising him up so that he was closer to eye-level.

Grogu’s eyes were full of curiosity, his little mouth moving as he watched you, and you decided to go for it, offering him a large smile. “You and I are gonna go on a trip, kid. We’re gonna go and see your dad.” His reaction was immediate - and it made your knees buckle, Luke reaching out to steady you. Oh, I’ve never felt anything like … The child was nearly vibrating with joy, mouth open in a wide smile and his arms waving in the air. Home! Luke’s grip tightened but then he let you go and you focused on Grogu, unsure of what else to say. Yeah, kid. Home. You’re gonna get to see the Mandalorian again, and we get to get outta here for a little while. You winked at him. “I have a couple things I need to do here before we can leave, but…” You leaned in, whispering into his ear, rubbing the end between two fingers. “We’re leaving in a week, kid.”

Even Luke laughed at Grogu’s reaction, a loud squeal and his hands clapping together only a few inches from your face. “Alright, Grogu. Let’s let her get to work.” He turned his head toward Luke and then back toward you, cocking it to the side. “She’s got a lightsaber to build.”

---

Luke and Grogu had walked you down to one of the workshops, both of them stopping at the doorway and waiting. “I gotta go in now, kid.” You reached out, thumbing over one of his chubby cheeks and smiled again. “Gotta build this so I can help keep you safe when we’re on Mandalore.” Safe with him. You nodded, eyes flicking to the doorway. Safe with you. “That’s the idea, pal.”

You’d stayed awake through the night, listening carefully to the droid’s instructions as you dug through the spare parts and machinery, trying to pick out the pieces you thought would work for your hilt, scrounging through the electronics to find the parts that were rattled off by the ever present, overly helpful droid standing across the table from you. I’m lucky, you realized right around daybreak, as you pushed your hair away from your face. I have a workshop, I have tools, I have materials… others aren’t this lucky.

You hadn’t tried to do anything fancy with the hilt; it was a standard cylinder shape, with notched metal near the end of the sleeve for better grip; the switch and endcap ringed with bronze accents that matched the handle part of the sleeve, but the top portion of the sleeve featured the most detail - tiny inscriptions that you painstakingly etched in - the coordinates of your home planet included.

You were proud of what you’d done with the scraps of titanium and durasteel, even somehow finding a tiny cube of pure gold to melt down and fill in the etchings with. It was simple but effective, and though you were sure that if you’d had more time, you could have done better, you were happy with the outcome, turning over the smooth hilt in your hands and raising it to catch the light. Glancing at the table to your left - the place you’d insert it before attempting to ignite it for the first time, testing the construction and shielding your face in case of an untimely explosion, you groaned. Not today. I need some sleep.

You cleaned up the majority of your scraps and trash, storing what you needed in one bin and throwing the unusable parts into the incinerator slot, and stood up to stretch. “Lunch. And then sleep, and then I’ll… try the circuits and the emitter.” You knew that the interior was the most important part of the saber, and didn’t want to attempt it while you were less than completely alert. Gotta make sure this thing doesn’t kill me when I turn it on.

Turning the lights off as you left the room after powering down the droid, you took the lift back to the dining hall, almost on autopilot as you made your way through the line, picking things that wouldn’t take you too long to eat. I just want to sleep. I need to lay down, I…

You knew that Grogu was in class and wouldn’t come in while you ate, but you were still unprepared for Bari’s intrusion, the man sliding into the seat across from you unannounced. Oh, he’s upset. You sighed as you felt the emotion, forcing yourself not to look up until he spoke, continuing to spoon broth into your mouth. “Were you going to tell me you’re leaving?” He leaned in, brow furrowed. “We were supposed to go out this weekend, and I had to find out from one of the Padawans that you and Grogu are -”

“We’re leaving next week, yes.” You sighed. “We’re going to -”

“Why are you going with him? That Mandalorian can -” You gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to snap back at the man. “Isn’t he supposed to be some fierce warrior? Capable of -”

“I’m not sure what he’s capable of, actually.” You took a drink from your cup, setting it down carefully. “I know what Grogu’s… thoughts are about him, and what I’ve read about the Mandalorians, but I …” I don’t know him, though. “But if you’re talking about him being capable of protecting Grogu?” You shook your head. “Of course he is, but he still needs to get there first, and there’s no way Master Skywalker or anyone else or I would let him jump into a ship and fly across the galaxy by himself, Bari. That’s kriffing …” You stopped, thinking. “What aren’t you saying?”

You looked directly into his eyes for the first time that day, not trying to keep his thoughts out. Say it, Bari. “I don’t understand why you have to go. How long will you be gone for?” You chewed on your lower lip. “I’m not sure. There’s no time limit, no… no return date. Everyone’s trying to give Grogu a choice, and if he thinks we’re rushing him, he -”

“He’s a damn kid, and you’re letting him choose whether or not he wants to stay with the man that -” Bari’s nostrils flared. “So I’m just supposed to sit here and not know when you’ll be back? Know that you’re at the mercy of a damn Mandalorian for the -”

“They’re not barbarians.” You pushed your plate away, crossing your arms over your chest. “And anyone that cares as much about a kid as much as this Mandalorian cares about Grogu won’t be dangerous to me - or to him. I’m not a threat to him, and I’m escorting his kid home.” Home. You turned the word over in your head, feeling yourself smile slightly. “And it’s not like you and I are together, Bari, so I appreciate the concern, but I’m going. I’m not afraid, and this isn’t your decision.” Unlike the last time you’d left a planet you considered home, you were making the choice this time - not running, but traveling, doing your part. “I’m not meant to be a Jedi, but maybe I… maybe this is what I was supposed to do, you know? Help the kid get back to his dad and figure out his place in the galaxy.”

“We’re not together because you’d never give it a chance.” He stood, smacking a hand down against the table. “But by all means, go. Fly halfway across the galaxy to get that kid back to the King of Mandalore, so that he can spend an hour a day with him while he figures his druk out.” Bari leaned forward, lip curled, but even though what he said was meant to hurt you, you felt that believing it hurt him, too. “You’re better than this. You deserve to be treated like more than a glorified nurse droid.” With a gasp, you recoiled from him and Bari turned away from the table, striding away without saying anything else.

You considered going after him, but chose not to, instead returning to the remainder of your meal, picking through the remnants. He’s wrong. The Mandalorian will make time for Grogu. He wouldn’t have wanted him to come back if … But at least part of Bari’s outburst was true - he was the King of Mandalore - the Mand’alor - and would be busy. Wait, should I have been calling him that instead of … You clapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening. Oh, I must have offended him, I should have known better. “I’ll apologize.” You sighed, lowering your hand and your head. “As soon as I meet him, I’ll apologize.”

Ignoring the rest of the people around you, you finished your meal in complete silence.

---

It was late that night when you finally removed your goggles and gloves, staring down at the table in front of you. After a few hours of rest, you’d returned to the lower level, greeting the droid once it was back online, and picking up where you left off. The circuits and interior components assembly had gone much faster than the exterior construction, but when it came time to insert the kyber crystal into the chamber, you were nervous. This is where it all goes wrong.

But instead of letting that fear overtake you, you rationalized that the Gathering and building was typically completed by people half your age, if not younger, and they most often turned out fine. That thought clear in your head, you reached forward, picking up the tiny crystal and holding it in front of your eyes. “I know this is supposed to take longer. And I’m supposed to win you in the Trials, and …” You sighed. “Just please don’t blow up on me? I gotta get that kid home, and I don’t want the Mandaorian’s first impression of me to be covered in bacta and bandages.” You’re talking to a rock. You laughed out loud at the thought, swearing under your breath, and then lowered your hand toward the hilt, the crystal held between your fingers. “Here we go.”

Sliding it into place - there was just enough room in the central chamber - you took a deep breath, twisted the emitter into position to close it up, and shut your eyes. Fingers wrapping around the cylinder, you lifted it slowly, thumb sliding up and toward the switch. Wait. You opened your eyes, thinking. If it’s powered by the crystals which are powered by the Force then … You concentrated on the metal held in your hand, focusing on the crystal inside of it, though you didn’t know what you were looking for. Maybe I’ll know it when I … You felt it then, a miniscule shift of the crystal’s position, realigning itself in the small chamber, and then you felt the weight of the hilt all but disappear in your hand, your eyes once again open. Oh, it… You glanced down at your hand, thumb again on the switch. It’s going to light. It’s going to work.

You were certain of it - almost as certain as you’d been when you stepped across the floor of the cave toward the kyber in the first place, and just as certain as you’d been when you’d found Grogu in the forest. Taking one last deep breath, you lifted the hilt higher, angling it up and away from you, and pushing up on the switch. Within seconds, you heard a familiar hum, the handle buzzing gently in your hand, and the lightsaber ignited, bathing the room in a pale glow.

It wasn’t bright blue or green, nor was it purple or yellow. Your lightsaber was instead a rich golden color, and as you turned it gently in your hand, you noticed an undertone to the blade’s center - an almost darker orange, tinged with pink that reminded you of the setting sun. Oh, that’s… beautiful. You spun it in your hand twice, getting a feel for it, and in those two turns, you felt the training you’d had come back, the grin on your face growing as you laughed. “Oh, I missed … I missed this.” Stepping back from the table entirely, you continued to move your wrist, waving the blade of light around to ensure that the beam was steady. It didn’t go out and after a few minutes you extinguished it, letting out a deep breath and clipping it to your belt before you covered it with your shirt. Probably shouldn’t just have that on display while I’m going to bed.

You cleaned everything up and then left the room again, stopping at one of the terminals on your way and sending a message to Luke, telling him that whenever he was ready to restart your weapons training, you were, too. I feel like I have a purpose. I feel … this feels right. You didn’t try to conceal your emotion as you headed back to your room, and you knew that if Grogu was even close to being awake, he’d feel it, so you quickly changed into your bedclothes and climbed between the blankets, eyes on the ceiling. He’s going to come tonight. He’ll be too excited to sleep, he -

Like clockwork, you heard the door creak open and saw the faint strip of light, Grogu’s quiet coos reaching your ears a second later. “C’mon, kid.” He was in his carriage this time, hovering low to the ground, and instead of waiting for you to reach for him, he raised it and then climbed out, pressing one button with a finger and sending it off into the corner before turning to face you. You’re very happy. “I am.” He reached out, putting a hand atop yours and closing his eyes, thinking. You felt him in your mind, and made it simpler for him, thinking of the color of your blade, letting him see how it looked, feel the way it felt in your hand. “You’re getting stronger, little one.” Grogu opened his eyes and then blinked at you. You too. “Nah, I’m just more confident, I guess. I built that thing and didn’t hurt anyone.”

He laid down next to you, and you pulled the blankets up and around both of you, making sure that they didn’t cover his face. His mind was racing, but the thoughts were all disjointed; images of desert landscapes racing by, of the Mandalorian’s side profile, glints of light from the stars reflecting off of his armor in the darkness, the Mudhorn, a river of lava, a woman with long, dark hair and a wide smile, children in a classroom. The more he showed you, the more he wound down, but his thoughts always cycled back to the Mandalorian before they raced forward. “You got a lot going on in there tonight, don’t you.” You murmured the words, feeling that both of you were falling asleep. “Lots to say, hmm?” He didn’t answer, just quietly cooed from in front of you, and then you felt one of his hands tighten around your arm, a single memory standing out in his mind.

He was sitting on a crate, the Mandalorian next to him, and there was a bowl in his hands. To your surprise, you watched as the Mandalorian lifted his helmet slightly, taking a long drink from the matching bowl that he held. Wait, what? Dumbfounded, you let the memory continue playing, watching as the man did it again, a glimpse of his chin and lower lip visible - just for a second. But that means… “Grogu.” He startled at the use of his name and you watched as he sleepily blinked up at you. “You’ve seen his face, haven’t you?” Yes. “Don’t ever let me see it, alright? You’re his aliit, I’m not. I have no right to … please don’t ever … don’t take that away from him.” It is the Way.

It was the most serious thought you’d ever heard from him, but you felt that he was agreeing with you, making a promise that no matter how close he felt to you, he wouldn’t compromise the Mandalorian’s creed by even giving you a larger glimpse of the face hidden beneath the helmet. But I’m glad you know what your dad looks like.

As Grogu’s breaths lengthened, you felt yours doing the same, the activities from the previous few days finally catching up with you. If he took his helmet off for the kid, there’s no way he’d ever let anything happen to him. Bari’s out of his mind. It’ll be perfectly safe with him. Eyes closed, you began to drift off when you heard one more of Grogu’s thoughts - this one drawn out and slow, coming from the edges of sleep. Both safe.

---

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sam-and-buck · 3 years

Text

At Home With Captain America

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes

Rating: G

Words: 7.7k

Also on AO3

“What can you tell me about how you got to know the Winter Soldier?”

Wilson chuckles. “The first time I met Buck—Sergeant Barnes—he ripped the steering wheel out of the car I was driving on the freeway. He got on the roof, punched through the windshield, pulled the steering wheel off. Just like that.” He mimes with his hands as he describes it.

This doesn’t sound like an auspicious beginning to me, but Wilson is laughing.

At Home with Captain America

By: Adrien Davis

Published: February 2, 2026, 3:35 PM

To say I’m intimidated by interviewing Captain America in his own home would be an understatement, and I would never have thought to ask if I could do that if he hadn’t personally invited me. Normally, I’d start one of these articles by describing the location, maybe even throw in an anecdote or two about how I got there, but that’s not going to be possible here.

Sam Wilson lives on [REDACTED] in [REDACTED]. It was a windy day.

Here’s what I can tell you: it’s an apartment. A nice one. Two bedroom, two bath.

“Am I allowed to describe the inside of your house?” is one of the first things I say to him, after getting his permission to turn on my recorder.

“Go right ahead,” he laughs, arms crossed over the worn USAF logo on his gray t-shirt. “Just don’t put the street name in there or anything.”

Wilson gives me a moment to poke around. Whoever decorated this place has good taste; it’s no haphazard bachelor pad. There’s an exposed brick wall in the otherwise slate blue living room, several plants (which I assume are fakes—albeit convincing ones—since Wilson is, by his own admission, not home as often as he’d like to be), a sturdy walnut coffee table, and a magnificently squishy-looking red couch.

It’s unmistakably lived in, though. I don’t get the sense that the place has been scrubbed spotless or particularly arranged for my visit. There are two abandoned mugs on coasters sitting on the coffee table, along with several different remote controls, and a stack of half-finished books with dog-eared corners. A pile of mail has been pushed to the side. Next to the door, a wall-mounted coat rack holds several leather jackets in shades of brown and black, and at least as many sweaters, mostly navy blue, charcoal and maroon. The shoe rack underneath houses multiple pairs of black combat boots, worn running shoes, house slippers. And next to that, on the floor, a large, gleaming silver case with red detail that could only contain Wilson’s Falcon wingpack. The legendary shield is propped up against it, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

I’m trying to imagine how it would be to leave the house for him. Got my keys, wings, phone, shield, wallet?

There are pictures on the walls and the mantle above the fireplace, under the television. People who I can only assume are Wilson’s relatives by their similarly gap-toothed smiles. Veterans. Wilson in full air force gear next to a blond man I don’t recognize. Then Captain Steve Rogers, in the 1940s with the Howling Commandos, and in the twenty-first century by himself. Wilson with Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff. One conspicuously empty nail where a large frame would clearly fit.

Scattered among these are several very old, dour black and white photographs of a dark-haired family. The first shows a mother, father and two small children, a boy and girl. The second is the mother and children only, taken some time after, judging by their apparent ages. The third is several years later still; the same children with light eyes and dark hair, but they’re teeangers now, and without parents. They look haunting and out-of-place among the glossy prints of Wilson’s big, happy family in matching 80s colorblocked tracksuits, or Wilson and his sisters in front of a Christmas tree, surrounded by wrapping paper and toys.

There’s also a wood-framed painting that stands out: an idyllic watercolor of a little farmhouse with a green roof and shuttered windows in a field. A small pile of lumber and a white mailbox make up the foreground. The most distinctive feature is the signature at the bottom: S.G.R. I know those initials.

“Captain Rogers painted this?”

“Uh huh,” Wilson nods fondly, hands now in his pockets. “Man of many talents. Maybe every talent. Having a hard time thinking of anything he wasn’t good at.”

I hear the unstated in that. A tough act to follow.

I think, for purposes of journalistic integrity, I should probably insert my bias before we go any further. We had never met before this interview, but I am and have always been enormously supportive of Captain Wilson and the work he’s done, and have written myriad articles and think pieces about him over the past several years. He’s shown himself time and again to be a man of unshakable integrity and endless emotional intelligence, and frankly, I’m more worried about the poor sucker who’s going to have to follow Wilson. Rogers did a lot of great things, but among the best of them was choosing a successor.

I tell him as much and he smiles, looking down at his shoes.

“Yeah, I know that’s how you feel,” he says. “I requested you for this piece, actually, because of that. People are going to accuse me of wanting a softball interview here, and maybe they’re right. For this one, I think that’s what I need.”

I’m not sure what he means by that, but he continues before I can ask.

“We should probably do this in the kitchen.” Wilson indicates behind us with his thumb, after I’ve stood silently in his living room for probably way too long. “That couch is too comfortable. I end up falling asleep every time I sit on it.”

The kitchen is, perhaps, a little cramped. There’s a large, dark marble-topped kitchen island that just fits in the center of the room with four bar stools tucked under it. The cabinets are tall, with glass doors showcasing a massive collection of healthy, but non-perishable food. The shelf nearest us holds several well-used bags of pantry supplies: chickpea flour, arrowroot starch, raw sugar. There’s a pasta shelf above it, but no Kraft Mac in sight; everything is lentil-based, chickpea-based, black bean-based.

“Have a seat,” Wilson says, inclining his head towards one of the barstools. “Can I get you something to drink?” He opens the refrigerator.

“We have…” he pauses. “Water. Sorry, just got back from Ecuador this morning. Sparkling or still?”

I accept a glass of still water from Captain America. He sits down on the stool next to mine.

His house, or what I’ve seen of it, is homey in a way I can’t imagine any of the late Tony Stark’s buildings ever were, and I mention this.

“I lived at the Avengers Tower briefly,” Wilson tells me. “Tony liked everything streamlined, really modern. Kinda sparse for my taste. I needed some real furniture when I got out of there, you know? Like, things that were made by human beings. Stuff with ‘character,’ that’s what Steve would call it.”

“So you decorated this place?”

“I think it’s about fifty-fifty,” Wilson says, indicated with vague hand motion.

This is my in.

This interview, as you may have read on the cover description, is actually intended to be an exposé about the working partnership between Wilson and Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, but I didn’t want to be the one who brought him up first.

All I knew going in is that they’re a package deal in the field, a unit. We’ve all seen the footage.

Also, Barnes lives here too, but evidently, he’s not home.

“What can you tell me about how you got to know the Winter Soldier?”

This doesn’t sound like an auspicious beginning to me, but Wilson is laughing.

“I hope he apologized to you for that,” I tell him, because I’m not exactly sure how else to respond.

“Oh yeah, of course he did, even though he knows I don’t blame him for it. He doesn’t remember it at all,” says Wilson. “There are a lot of gaps, to be honest. Most of it is gaps.”

What Wilson is likely referring to here is the decades-long period in which Barnes was under the complete mental and physical influence of the Nazi splinter group known as HYDRA. If you’re unfamiliar with the history of Sergeant Barnes, I’ll list a couple of great articles for you to read at the end of this one. I assure you, it’s worth your time.

Wilson has without a doubt been Barnes’s most ardent supporter. He’s spoken out many times about not judging Barnes based on the actions he couldn’t control, and has masterfully refocused the national conversation towards Barnes’s invaluable contributions in World War II and in the recent war to bring half the universe’s population back into existence. Wilson has been quoted as saying, “The least extraordinary thing about Sergeant Barnes is his vibranium arm.”*

But perhaps Wilson’s most effective act towards building public confidence in Barnes was his decision to designate him as an almost exclusive mission partner. Even if the general populace has been reluctant to trust the Winter Soldier, it is abundantly clear that Captain America does, absolutely. Barnes is a constant in the footage of Wilson’s exploits. The moment he touches down on the ground after a successful arrest or negotiation, Barnes is right there. He’s been sighted treating Wilson’s minor injuries, tightening straps on the Falcon wingsuit before Wilson takes flight, and he stands quietly behind Wilson during almost all of his many public appearances.

Despite his ubiquitous presence in Wilson’s company, Barnes has remained elusive for comment. He has no social media, and the only public statement he’s made to date was in November of 2023, in support of Rogers’s decision to pass on the legacy of Captain America. Barnes expressed his categorical agreement that Wilson is “the best and only choice for this job,” describing him as both “worthy of the honor,” and “equipped for the burden.”**

“Is it fair to say that Sergeant Barnes almost comes with the shield?” I ask.

Wilson makes a face.

“No, it isn’t,” he shakes his head. “The shield is an accessory; my partner is not. I really don’t like it when people lump him in with the shield. It sort of minimizes how Bucky and I have made a series of conscious choices to be the way we are now. Especially because he’s experienced being fully stripped of his personal autonomy—as a veteran, I can say I’ve had a taste of that, but nothing like what he’s been through—and I think it cheapens his choice to do what he does if we imply that he, as a person, is a package deal with my title, you know?”

The therapist in Wilson is showing. In addition to his decorated military history and service as Captain America, he has a background in psychology, and a Masters degree in Social Work with a focus on Veterans’ mental health issues. He’s worked extensively with the VA as a leader in group therapy.

“So Sergeant Barnes is by your side day in and day out because he wants to be?”

This, Wilson has another unequivocal answer for. “Yes. He wants to be there, and I want him there. And here at home.”

“Tell me a little more about that,” I say. “After the...steering-wheel-stealing incident. Once he was more or less himself. Did you two hit it off right away?”

Wilson laughs again. “Not at all,” he says. “I think there was this resentment, kind of, in the beginning. Like I’m Steve’s best friend and no, I’m Steve’s best friend. Real elementary school stuff. He really got on my nerves; just everything about him annoyed me, and the feeling was mutual. Looking back…”

And here Wilson pauses for a moment. He chews on his bottom lip, and I notice all at once how nervous his body language has become. His fingers are drumming on the table, the line of his shoulders is taut, his leg is bouncing. He clears his throat though, and seems determined to continue.

“Looking back, I can see where it was coming from. It wasn’t clear to me at the time, but now I get it. There was this one time, it was during the fight over the Accords. We barely knew each other at this point. Buck and I, we’re fighting Spider-Man—who neither of us had ever even heard of before, like, that afternoon—and he pins us to the floor of this hangar with that goo he shoots out of his wrist. Really gross. I manage to get Redwing [Wilson’s drone] to fling Spider-Man out the window. So we’re just laying there, me and Bucky, stuck. And he goes ‘you couldn’t have done that before?’ And I just turn to him, and I’m like, ‘I hate you.’”

At this, Wilson really starts cracking up. He relaxes visibly, just a little.

“Did you mean it?”

“I sure thought I did,” he says, still chuckling. “Like, I wasn’t about to take it back.”

He continues: “Anyway, so after Steve, you know, passed on the shield to me, that’s when things really changed. Actually, back up a second. After the whole Accords incident, we ended up sending Bucky to Wakanda for like… to hear him describe it, it’s like we sent him for a two-year spa retreat. They unscrambled his brain as best they could—and really, I think it’s a good thing they couldn’t do any more because I wouldn’t wish some of his memories on my worst enemy—and he spent like months meditating in a hut and milking goats and going to therapy every day. When I met up with him again, I barely would’ve recognized him.”

“So that’s kind of when you guys reconciled? The arguing stopped?”

“Oh, it never stopped,” Wilson says with a grin. “We still argue all the time, about all kinds of things. Just ask Rhodey [Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, aka War Machine] or Scott [Lang, Ant-Man] or anybody. But the dynamic shifted a little, I think. Bucky’s got… Like I can’t imagine some of the stuff he’s been through, but he’s just kind of learned to roll with it. He is hands down the most resilient person I have ever met. Easily. It was real hard to keep hating him when he was so dead set on getting me to like him, too.”

“Can you walk me through the process by which you two decided to live together?”

“Yeah,” he says, and the nervousness is back. He smooths his hands on his thighs over his jeans. “So, basically, once I got the shield, we’d just barely come back. Like everyone else who got… I—I still don’t know if this is like an okay question to ask people. Do you mind me asking if you were dusted?”

I don’t mind. “Yeah, I was.”

“So you get it,” Wilson says. “Might be the most vulnerable I’d ever felt. I got nothing. Nowhere to go, just the clothes on my back. Then Steve hands me this shield and this enormous legacy—and I look back and there’s Bucky, standing a couple of yards behind me, nodding like, yeah, it should be you. He was the first person who knew, and he’s been right by my side ever since.”

“So you decided to stick together?”

“The original conversation about it was pretty logistical,” Wilson says, rubbing his beard. “There was so much going on, it’s hard to remember exactly what was said, but I think it was along the lines of him offering to fetch the shield for me while I learned how to throw it, and stuff like that. Just easier to do when we’re together 24/7.”

“So rooming together didn’t actually grow out of field partnerships?”

“It was definitely the other way around,” says Wilson. “Basically, I’d get a call from the powers that be that there was something I had to go check out, and it was easier to just walk across the hall than to pick someone else, try to wake them up, and then have to rendez-vous and strategize.”

“I’ll bet,” I say.

Wilson nods. “Easier and faster. Bucky can go from dead asleep to fully geared up in under three minutes. The first few times were like that, with me just knocking on his bedroom door like ‘hey, I need—’ and he comes barreling out covered in knives thirty seconds later like, ‘where are we going?’ We just… clicked. And I’ll be honest; I was really surprised. He’s got my six, I’ve got his, and I never question it. I started asking for him specifically on all my assignments after that, and Fury [Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.] and everyone caught on quick that that’s how it was gonna be. I don’t have to ask anymore.”

“Do you see this continuing long term?” I ask.

Wilson doesn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”

“How would you describe your relationship with Sergeant Barnes now?” I ask. “Clearly you’re partners in the field, and roommates, but…”

Wilson takes a deep breath. His hands are shaking, but he clasps them together in front of him and looks me straight in the eye.

“As of last month,” he says slowly, “Bucky and I are married.”

In the spirit of my interview with Captain America, who stands for honesty and justice and integrity, I think you deserve to know the truth. I want to say that I didn’t drop my recorder, but I did. It clatters to the floor, luckily undamaged.

That startles Wilson into a laugh. For the second it takes me to retrieve my recorder from under my seat, I wonder if he’s kidding.

“Come on,” he says. “Say something. I’m getting nervous.” He’s smiling, but not joking.

“Congratulations,” I blurt out. “I...really?”

“Yeah.” The tension leaves his body in a rush. “We, uh, it’s official.”

I’m struggling for questions at this point. The talking points I was planning on hitting in this interview are all suddenly moot, and I decide to throw out my mental to-do list entirely. I finally settle on, “How long have you two been together?”

“A little over two years,” Wilson answers. “About three months after I took up the shield.”

“How did it happen?”

Wilson grins. “Uh, well. I had sort of been…having feelings about him, you know, for awhile. Actually, it’s more like I had noticed that I was having more-than-friendly feelings in the few weeks leading up to that. I think the main reason we had so much trouble getting along in the beginning is that it took some time to process those feelings as attraction. So in a way, I was interested on some level right from the get go.”

“Even if that person wasn’t...behind the wheel of their own brain, so to speak—” I start, but Wilson interjects.

“I see what you did there.”

“—I think it would take a lot for me to be attracted to someone who had previously tried to kill me.”

“Less than I would’ve expected, that’s for sure,” Wilson says. “But it’s not like I was checking him out while he was busy tearing my wings off my back; I’m talking about once he was mentally present in his body. That was like...two years after the whole steering wheel incident, and I hadn’t seen him at all in the interim. I didn’t even know where he was during that time.”

“So it had at least been awhile since he had tried to kill you?”

“Oh yeah. And plenty of other people tried to kill me in those two years, and they weren’t even sorry about it. You gotta adjust your standards, you know?” he says with a laugh.

“Anyway, if you ask him, he says he’s been all in since the moment he saw me back in Wakanda after his little vacation. Now we’re talking about four years since the steering wheel thing. Me, Steve, Nat and everybody; we landed in Wakanda and Bucky’s there. He and I look at each other over Steve’s shoulder, and like, bam, that was it for him.

“And then there’s five years where neither of us exist. We get back, we fight the monsters, Steve gives me the shield, and while all this is happening, apparently Bucky has come to the conclusion that he’s in love with me. After that, he was just waiting for me to catch up.”

“And he just knew you’d get there? Did you give him any indication that you were interested, or…?”

“I definitely did, but not intentionally,” says Wilson. “He’s very perceptive—like way more than I was giving him credit for—but I think it’s a combination of that and me not being as subtle as I think I am.

“Because, see there’s this invisible line I’ve drawn here—at least that’s how he was thinking about it—and I keep dancing a little closer to that line every day, the line being the no homo line; the point where you can’t take it back. The flirting, I mean. I, of course, think he has no clue and that I’m being slick about it. Actually, lemme ask—how much detail are you looking for here? Like do you want to know the whole story or just—”

“Lay it on me,” I tell him. “Just however you want to tell it.”

“Alright. Where was I? So I’m just there going back and forth on whether or not it’s a good idea to risk this roommate-partner-buddy thing we’ve got going here by trying to make a move that, frankly, I have no clue if he’s gonna be receptive to. You have to remember we’re talking about a guy from the Great Depression here, like that’s the time period he grew up in. I’m no historian, but I think it’s common knowledge that if you were a man who was attracted to men back then, you mostly kept that to yourself. The chances of him bringing up his sexual orientation unprompted are very low. And like, I’m 90% sure I’ve caught him looking before, but that’s never a guarantee, you know?

“So, instead of sitting down and having a mature conversation about my feelings, I keep doing this thing where, for example, say he’s trying something new with his hair, and I’ll say something nice about it. And then I follow up immediately with, ‘Almost makes up for your ugly mug,’ or whatever, which—I mean, he’s such a good-looking guy, like what ugly mug, obviously I don’t mean that. And he’s not stupid, he knows what he looks like. So he picks up on what I’m doing, doesn’t say anything, and lets this go on for months.

“Eventually, there’s one night… We’re on the couch, watching like, I don’t know, Seinfeld or something. Whatever was on. He’s reading a book on my tablet, looking all relaxed and handsome. I can’t have that, so I start egging him on like I usually do, and I guess I got close enough to the line that he just puts the tablet down, turns to me and says, ‘Sam, you know there’s no line, right?’

“And I’m going, okay, what does that mean? Like, is this a conversation I was previously a part of and forgot or...? Where is this ‘line’ thing coming from? And so I ask him—I think I just said, ‘What?’ At that point he looks me right in the eye, and he goes, ‘You can kiss me if you want to.’” So I did, and he was ready for it, like no hesitation. Like I said: waiting for me to catch up.”

This, as you can imagine, is far beyond the level of detail I could have ever imagined I’d get about Captain America’s love life in my wildest dreams. I decide to ask a new question, because I feel like I’d be pushing my luck to delve further when he’s already been so open about this experience.

“Who proposed and when?”

“Ooh,” says Wilson, “I guess technically I did, but I’m gonna go on record saying that one was a group effort.”

“Well, now you’re gonna have to explain that,” I tell him. “What’s a ‘group effort’ proposal look like?”

“Hmm. I backed myself into that one, didn’t I?” he says. “First, I want the record to show that before I called you guys to set up this interview, I specifically asked Bucky if there were any us-related topics or whatever that were off-limits to discuss and he said ‘No,’ and I said, ‘Are you sure?’ and he said ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ and I said, “You better be sure, because whatever I say is gonna be public knowledge after that,” and he said “I know, I get it, Jesus.” Then I dropped it because he sounded like he was getting kinda irritated. If he didn’t want me to tell you any of this stuff, that would’ve been the time to speak up, so here we go:

“We were at… Well, I can’t tell you exactly where we were, but let’s just say we were working. There was nobody else in the room, but we were getting ready to go out in the field; seemed like it was gonna be a pretty...intense situation out there. I had my whole suit on, he was calibrating his arm, and the conversation ended up at living wills. As you can imagine, that’s an important thing to have when you’re in this line of work. So he proceeded to tell me that the last time he’d updated his was never and that his next-of-kin was nobody. And I was like, ‘So what, your grenade launchers are all gonna go to the state? I don’t even get the red one?’ and I’m just giving him a hard time, you know, and he’s like, ‘Sam.’

“And then, my god, he just goes all the way off about how much he loves me and trusts me and I—we don’t usually go there. I mean, we’d been on the same page for a long time as far as, we’ve established that we’re in love, this relationship is going well, but it’s not something that we’d verbalized in any real depth. That’s just a level of like, exposure, vulnerability, I think, that doesn’t come naturally to most people, myself included.

“So he just keeps talking—and I think it’s fair to say he’s not a very talkative guy most of the time—and I’m standing there with my jaw on the floor because he is not holding back, and this is all clearly unrehearsed. Like, this is just how he really feels about me, apparently. By the time he’s finished, I’m crying, he’s crying, it’s a mess. And so I open my mouth, and I have no idea what I’m gonna say to all that, but what comes out is, “Will you marry me?” I wasn’t planning on it, but suddenly I just knew. Best decision I ever made.”

“And you’ve made some very important decisions in your life.”

“That’s right. I know which ones I’m leaving out by saying this was the best, and I stand by it.”

At that moment, as if on cue, the lock clicks, and Sergeant Barnes walks through the front door carrying two very full bags of groceries on his vibranium arm. He tosses a set of car keys into a little dish and locks the door behind him.

“Hey, babe,” Wilson calls out, catching his eye.

“You did it?” Barnes asks.

“Yeah.” Wilson tilts his head up.

Barnes rounds the corner, pecks Wilson on the lips with all the comfort and familiarity of a couple who have done it a thousand times. I hear him murmur, “Proud of you,” under his breath.

Barnes sets the groceries on the counter in front of me as Wilson introduces us.

“Call me Bucky,” says Barnes, reaching out with his right hand to shake mine. There’s a silver band on the fourth finger, and when I look back over at Wilson, he’s slipping his wedding ring out of the pocket of his jeans and putting it back on his left hand.

“Wasn’t sure if I’d be able to go through with all this,” he says, gesturing to me and my notepad. “I took the wedding pictures down in the living room too, before you got here.”

“I knew he could do it,” Barnes tells me. His voice is low, soft, and so quiet, a hint of an old Brooklyn accent underlying his words even now, despite everything he’s been through and everywhere he’s been. He shrugs out of his nondescript hoodie and tosses it on one of the unused stools, grabbing a kettle and putting it on the stove.

“Hibiscus or chamomile?” he asks me, pulling two boxes of tea bags from one of the grocery bags and letting me choose before turning to Wilson. “Bad news, hon. They were out of your whole wheat pita.”

“Again?” says Wilson, with feeling. “Really?”

“They only had the gluten free. I guess I could check the other store tonight, but it’s supposed to rain later, and I kinda don’t feel like going out again,” Barnes says, head buried in the cupboard as he stacks cans. “I was thinking maybe I could just try making ‘em. How does that sound? How hard can it be, right?”

“‘How does homemade pita sound,’ he says,” Wilson repeats, jabbing a thumb towards Barnes. “Can you believe this guy?”

“I honestly can’t.” It’s the truth. My brain refuses to reconcile this man with the supposed playboy I read about in my 11th grade history textbook, nor the internationally feared assassin.

“Is that a yes or no on the experimental homemade pita?” Barnes asks Wilson, still deep in the cupboard. “No promises on quality.”

“That’s a yes, Buck,” says Wilson, then he turns to me. “Don’t listen to him; he’s a great cook.”

The Winter Soldier is a great cook, I write in my notes. And then I realize this is my moment to shine.

“I actually know a good recipe for homemade pita,” I tell them. “It’s whole wheat.” That gets Barnes’s attention.

“You do?” he says, pulling out his phone. “Can you send it to—hmm.” He frowns. “Sam, it’s not showing the thing.”

“What thing?” Wilson asks, taking Barnes’s phone from his hand. “Oh, yeah, that’s cause it’s set to Contacts Only, Buck, you have to switch it to Allow Everyone.”

Wilson looks at me, smiling. “Bucky here hates technology—”

“—I don’t hate technology—”

“Oh yes you do, you won’t even let me get you an iPad—”

“Yeah, for what? What do I need it for? I wouldn’t even use—”

“You wouldn’t use one, huh? How about I stop letting you borrow mine for a couple of weeks, then we’ll see how you feel.” Wilson turns to me, passing Barnes’s phone back to him. “He should be showing up on your AirDrop now.”

Sure enough, I’m able to send the recipe link to Bucky’s iPhone. He thanks me and starts scrolling right through it, argument apparently totally forgotten.

As Barnes continues to read, periodically checking on the kettle; Wilson excuses himself to help put away the rest of the groceries, which are mostly produce.

“I hope you have like, immediate plans for these,” Wilson says, inspecting the avocados as he pulls them out of the paper bag. “They are ripe, man. Tomorrow’s gonna be too late for them.”

“Yeah I do, I was gonna make grilled chicken and avocado sandwiches for dinner,” Barnes replies. “I got tomatoes, swiss cheese—”

“What’s all this about pita then if we’re having sandwiches?” Wilson asks.

“No, the pita is the bread here,” Barnes explains. “You stuff everything in the pocket. I’m gonna have to get started pretty soon; probably gonna double the rising time since it’s cold out.” Wilson hums in apparent approval of this course of action.

I lose Wilson to the refrigerator for several minutes. He stands back up after arranging things in the crisper to his liking.

“Any chance I could get a peek at those wedding pictures?” I ask.

��Oh,” says Wilson. “That okay with you?” He turns to Barnes, who nods, carefully steeping bags of tea in three steaming mugs, and then leads me back to the living room.

Wilson has stashed two silver-framed pictures in a drawer of the coffee table, apparently in anticipation of my visit, and he pulls them out to show to me. Both are taken in front of a familiar-looking farmhouse, which I struggle with for a moment before placing it as the exact one in Captain Rogers’s watercolor painting that’s hanging to my left. Wilson’s suit in the photo is a matte but brilliant shade of cobalt; Barnes wears black.

One is of just the two of them, arms around one another and foreheads together. It’s almost too intimate to look at; I feel as though I’m intruding on something intensely private, even though Wilson is standing right here offering me a glimpse of it.

He puts that one back up onto the mantle.

The next is them in the center of a large group that consists of some people I recognize and others I don’t. Familiar faces include Dr. Bruce Banner [The Hulk], Clint Barton [Hawkeye], and Maria Hill [Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]. Also present: King T’Challa of Wakanda and his sister, Princess Shuri. There’s a young girl in a white dress, carrying a flower basket and missing a front tooth, standing in front of [C.E.O. of Stark Industries] Pepper Potts. Next to them is a teenager with floppy brown hair doing an indescribably awkward double thumbs up.

“Who’s that?” I ask, pointing at him.

Wilson snorts. “Some punk. Family friend.”

That picture gets hung on the empty nail next to Captain Rogers’s painting.

Barnes knocks quietly on the doorway behind us. “Tea’s ready.”

An awkward silence settles in with us once we sit back down in the kitchen, Wilson and Barnes next to one another, and me across from them. I flip through my notes, taking a sip from my mug.. My drink is sweeter than I was expecting, because apparently the Winter Soldier has added agave to the hibiscus tea he made me. It’s delicious.

Barnes eventually breaks. “So whatcha go over so far?”

“How we got together, how we got engaged,” Wilson answers him. “In detail too, so if you don’t want that published, you’re gonna have to grovel at the journalist yourself, because you said—”

“Oh my god,” says Barnes, old-school New York sarcasm dripping from every word. “How dare you tell people about the best thing I ever did, huh? Now they’re gonna think I’m like, a sensitive, good guy, and here I’ve been coasting along on this murder cyborg image. What have you done, you dick?”

Wilson rolls his eyes.

“So...you’re okay with it?” I ask them, absolutely ready to scrub the record if he hesitates.

“You kidding me?” says Barnes. “Every other week comes up some new atrocity I committed against my will in like...the 70s, and you think I’m gonna be upset with people knowing that once in a while I say nice shit to someone I love? Write it. Please. Knock yourself out.”

Okay then. Since Barnes seems willing to talk, I ask them if I can throw them a few questions I have for them as a couple. Barnes looks as though he wasn’t anticipating this.

Wilson turns to him. “You wanna be here for this?”

Barnes nods slowly, hesitantly, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“You’re okay?” Wilson asks. “You decide you’re done at any point and I’ll end it. Or you can go hang out in the other room, your call.”

“I’m good for now,” Barnes decides. “I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“You can ask whatever you want,” Wilson says to me. “I can’t promise we’ll answer everything, but go ahead and shoot.”

“I guess the first question I have is: what’s the hardest thing about navigating your jobs as a couple? What bothers you the most about that?”

Wilson exhales loudly. “I mean, the obvious answer is the danger,” he says. “The nature of what we do is fundamentally unsafe. I think it goes without saying—I’ll still say it—that we’re always aware that one of us might not make it back from a mission, which is...” Wilson trails off for a moment, shaking his head. “You don’t get used to that feeling. The fear.”

“Mm hmm,” Barnes agrees, from behind his mug.

“And,” continues Wilson, “I’m also aware that by doing this interview, I’m putting Bucky in additional danger. I’m not naive enough to think that the people working against us won’t try to use my relationship with him as leverage against me.”

“That makes sense,” I say, because he’s absolutely right, and pretending that public knowledge of his marriage doesn’t put them both in a new kind of danger seems disingenuous. I face Barnes. “Your turn.”

“Racist assholes,” says Barnes immediately.

Wilson smirks and cocks his head in agreement. “Sometimes I think I’ve talked that subject to death, other times it’s like I could never hope to address it enough. Today feels like the first one.”

A diplomatic, but clear answer. Time to move on.

I’m about to ask the next question when he adds: “Another thing that gets under my skin is how it’s like Bucky’s image in the eyes of the general public is totally dependent on me hyping him up all the time. As far as I’m concerned, he’s proven himself a hundred times over, and yet if I’m not on T.V. reminding people of that every day, it’s suddenly like ‘oh, the Winter Soldier, can we ever really trust him?’

“I just… It bothers me. I want us to come to a collective understanding that everything that happened happened to Bucky, not because of him. It kinda circles back into another of the things I’m passionate about, which is mental health care and awareness. I think if we as a society were better about recognizing and addressing mental illness, and particularly Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, I wouldn’t have to keep having this conversation about my husband.”

Barnes’s face is getting pinker and he says nothing, but he’s smiling a little at Wilson, who puts an arm around his shoulders.

“Anyway, we can move on,” says Wilson, his expression going easy again. “Just had to get that out there one more time.”

“Hopefully this one’s a little more pleasant,” I say. “What inspired you to come forward about your relationship? I know you guys—” I gesture between them, ”—have been together for a couple years, so why now?”

“I want to go on a date in public,” says Bucky. “I haven’t been on a date since the 40s.”

“That’s right,” says Wilson. “We’re doing all this so I can take him Denny’s and hold his hand over a $6.99 Super Slam.”

When I finish laughing, Wilson continues. “Part of it’s because we realized it’s gonna get out there whether we like it or not. You already knew when you got here that we lived together, and that’s because that information got leaked to the public last week, so it was always just a matter of time before people found out anyway. I’d rather have some control over that narrative; better you hear it from me and Bucky, how we want to tell it, than in some tabloid.”

He’s right about that: they would undoubtedly have been outed one way or another. Their status as “roommates” was reported by TMZ a week and a half ago, and there was a Buzzfeed piece only yesterday, rife with gifs, entitled 15 Times Captain America and The Winter Soldier Made Us Wish We Were Their Third Roommate, that ended on the note of how Wilson and Barnes are “absolute BFF GOALS.” Wilson continues:

“But I think the biggest reason is that we decided, together, that we actually think it’s good for people to know. I’ve seen firsthand the impact that having a Black Captain America has had on the Black community and on the national topic of race, and we think—we hope—that a Captain America who is a member of the LGBT community will have a similar effect.

“The people who already hate me aren’t going to like me any better or worse for being bisexual, but some bisexual teenager out there is hopefully gonna read this article and feel a little bit better about themselves than they did before. That’s really the impact I want to have here. Got anything to add, Buck?”

“Actually, yeah,” says Barnes, staring at the counter in front of him and fiddling with his wedding ring. “I grew up gay in thirties. The idea of being able to just...tell people, that’s still amazing to me. The fact that I’m sitting here talking about it with a stranger and you’re not screamin’ in my face right now…”

“You do know I’m not straight either, right?” I ask him. I’m not exactly shy about that, it’s the kind of thing most people can tell just by looking at me.

“Even so,” says Barnes, finally looking me in the eye. “You fool around with a fella back in the day—or worse, you make a pass and he turns you down—then he knows about you, and then it’s like, what if he tells someone? Some of the worst shit I ever saw came from people who found out that way. So, other gay guys. Basically you never felt safe.”

“What about Captain Rogers?” I ask. “Did he know?”

“Oh yeah, Steve knew,” says Barnes with a dismissive wave of his hand, like that ought to be obvious. “He wasn’t gonna tell anyone; I got too much dirt on him.“

“Pfft. He’s messing with you,” Wilson interjects, directed at me. “There’s no dirt on Steve anywhere; believe me, I’d know by now if there was.”

“I want you to guess how many times I’ve had to clean up Steve’s puke,” says Barnes in a total deadpan, leaning forward. “Whatever number you think it is, the real answer is higher.

“This again,” says Wilson. “I keep telling you Buck, Steve throwing up on you at Coney Island isn’t the big scandalous story you seem to want it to be.”

“Sam wasn’t there, he didn’t see it,” Barnes insists. “We were with these girls and they just left us standing there by the Cyclone, covered in hot dog chunks. Actually, that part was kind of a relief ‘cause one of ‘em was definitely jonesing for me to kiss her before that, and I really didn’t want to.

“But seriously, after everything we went through together, I knew I could trust Steve with anything. And that made me luckier than most—at least I had one person. Lots of guys had no one.

“Anyway, my reasons for coming out with all this are probably more selfish than Sam’s. You know some of those Nazis—we’re callin’ ‘em something else these days, like ‘alt-right’ or whatever, but I know a Nazi when I see one—they have this crazy idea of what I was like back in the day. They’ve got this fantasy, like a golem of toxic masculinity with my face on it, and I just want to publicly shit on their dreams. Every date I ever went on with a girl was a total sham, and I was scared down to my bones that someone would figure that out. I fight because someone needs to and I’m good at it, but I hate hurting people and I’d much rather be sitting here cuddling on the couch with a man. This man.”

Barnes is grinning big and wide by the time he finishes—a real, genuine smile that brings out the sparkle in his eyes—and suddenly I feel like I’m catching a glimpse of what Wilson must be seeing in him. Wilson himself is laughing.

“I like how you snuck your little buzzword in there, baby,” he says. “Toxic masculinity. That’s one of Bucky’s things he learned about from his Wakandan therapist.

“Obviously super important,” Wilson adds, lest I think he’s making light of something serious.

“I think it’s great that we’re talking about it so openly now, especially with respect to the military.”

Barnes tilts his head in agreement, checking the time on his phone. We’re probably approaching the point at which he wants to get started on that pita bread, and I’m definitely in his way.

“So what’s next for you guys?” I ask.

“Isn’t that always the question?” Wilson asks, taking Barnes’s right hand in his left and resting them, intertwined, on the countertop. “Sometimes it’s aliens. Sometimes not. Who even knows anymore?”

“Hopefully, a whole lot more of this,” says Barnes, looking down at their hands.

Wilson smiles. “Well, that’s a given. That’s always.”

This is when Barnes gets up to pull a stand mixer out of one of the cupboards, and I read that as my cue to take my leave. I end my recording, Wilson thanks me for stopping by, I promise to give him an advance copy of my writing to make sure he’s comfortable with what I said, and I find myself standing back on the sidewalk of [REDACTED] moments later.

I’m not typically in the habit of including as many details about the dinner plans of my article subjects as I have here—and I’m certainly testing the limits of my editor’s patience with the word count—but in the spirit of Wilson’s wishes for what his coming out story will mean to the people of America, I wanted to emphasize how human his marriage is.

Barnes and Wilson have extraordinary jobs that they are undoubtedly uniquely suited for and that most of us will never fully understand, but they are also two people who have been through a lot of hardship and found happiness and peace in one another. And that’s something that most of us do understand: love, the human experience that transcends the divisions we give ourselves.

*From a press conference Wilson gave on May 7, 2025.

**From a statement written by Barnes and issued through a S.H.I.E.L.D. representative on November 1, 2023.

For further reading on Barnes, the author recommends:

1. Greatest Generation X: The Impossible Life of James Buchanan Barnes, by Ariel Guzman, published in 2025.

2. R.Y. Uhlencott’s column “The Wolf of Brooklyn” in the October 2024 issue of Time covers the basic timeline and trajectory of Barnes’s life.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon #mcu #marvel #tfatws #sam(antha) tag #my fanfic tag #fanfic

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

Characters: Oikawa Tooru/Sakusa Kiyoomi/Miya Osamu

Request: Hi! Do you think you can make headcanons for Oikawa, Sakusa and osamu, with an s/o thats a medical student? 🙏🏻😳

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1.9K (~600 a piece)

Notes: I’m v v v sorry for the recent lack of updates! I’m moving back to uni on Tuesday and I didn’t plan accordingly and get fics lined up >.<

Oikawa Tooru

The most supportive bean oml he’s so cute

It’s definitely not easy considering he’s in Argentina, but he does his best to check up on you whenever he can. You have a tendency to over-work yourself while studying, so someone needs to remind you to take a break and get some rest dumbass literally doesn’t take his own advice smh

You should hear him when he’s talking to his team about you. “Oh, you mean Y/N? My DOCTOR s/o? Yeah, that’s right. I’m dating a doctor.” You aren’t even a doctor yet, but he’s going to tell everyone he knows that his s/o is a ✨doctor✨

He can’t really help you study because of the distance, but if you ever need to vent to him about classes or your residency, boy is there. He is listening intently while you spill all the tea! Oikawa likes the drama, what can he say? It’s like his personal soap opera.

Oikawa takes so many screenshots while you video chat. You’re probably going over notes or working on homework and he’s just collecting all the photos.

He’s going to post them on his instagram later, captioning it with something like, “yeah, your s/o may be great, but are they a doctor? lol didn’t think so 😜” and you’ll have to comment “Tooru, I’m not a doctor yet.”

But, Tooru literally does not care. He can’t get over the fact that you’re so?? Smart?? You could be telling him about something you learned in class that day and he’ll be nodding along, like he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but to be honest?

He doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You keep using these big words and he’s just “?????”

Oh, but he learns, because he’s a good boyfriend for sure. He has sticky notes all over his apartment with random medical words that he’s heard you say. It’s low-key just to impress you, but also Oikawa really does care about what you’re talking about and he wants to be able to follow the conversation better.

Boy learns his new vocabulary words in Japanese and Spanish to further impress you and because he knows that you find it really hot when he speaks Spanish.

Brb cackling at the idea of oikawa just spewing a random Spanish diagnosis in your ear during sex because he can’t remember how to say what he wants to tell you

Everytime you reach a milestone in your med school career? He’s bragging so much. You’d think that he was the one who made the dean’s list or that he was the one who finished the classroom section and was moving onto their residency.

He’s honestly just so proud of you and wants to show you off, because you’re just so driven and passionate about everything you do. It’s a big reason why he fell in love with you in the first place.

Peep him cheering the loudest when you finally complete your residency. Stand right there. He wants to take pictures of his s/o looking fine as hell in their white coat with their MD, so he can brag to everyone he meets that his s/o is officially a doctor

The proud smile on his face when you’ve finally done it? Irreplaceable. He’s been your biggest supporter through this whole thing. To him, watching you do this is as amazing as doing it himself.

He’s going to frame your degree and hang it up right by the door of the apartment when you two move in together. Just a gentle reminder that he’s dating a doctor, no big deal.

You could try to tell him that you’re proud of him for following his dreams and making it to the big leagues and he’s just, “yeah, but who graduated medical school 🤗”

AWWW WAIT

If you open up your own practice one day ;-; this baby is just beaming with pride, taking all the pictures and all of the videos as you cut the ribbon to announce the opening

Marry him. Marry him or I will.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You probably complained once about the workload, saying that it was so much harder than you ever anticipated, and this son of a bitch would just scoff like, “It can’t be that difficult.”

But, it’s that difficult and you let him figure that out. You handed him a stack of your assignments and said, “If it’s so easy, you do it.”

Insert Sakusa Kiyoomi hunched over the table for three hours, just staring at the page, occasionally flipping through your textbook and medical dictionary as if either of those things would help him.

He literally handed you back a blank paper and didn’t say a word.

Honestly, he has no idea how to help you study, but he’ll try his best. If you hand him a study guide or a stack of flash cards, he’ll sit on the couch with you and quiz you until you know each and every one better than you know yourself.

He’s not exactly going out of his way to learn about medicine so that he can better converse with you, but he does pick up on a few things

Kiyoomi’s gotten pretty good at breaking down the medical terms from long hours of helping you study. He has a decent understanding of what some of the roots and suffixes mean, so when you start talking about something from school, he can usually at least pin down some of the information

Sakusa is going to use your career path to his advantage though. He wants to know what disinfectants they're using at the hospital and can you get him some?

He’s already pretty private about his personal life, especially when it comes to his relationship with you, so outside of his small friend group, he hasn’t told many people that you’re a med student.

This doesn’t make him any less proud though. He’s just more quiet about it. But, he’ll celebrate all of the little accomplishments right there with you, texting you right before you take a big test to wish you luck and taking you out for ice cream or a nice dinner when you get your results

If he gets a long break at practice, he’ll go take you lunch, just so he knows that you’re taking care of yourself properly.

MASK SELFIES

You stay up really late trying to memorize the proper treatments and where to make incisions and things like that, so if Kiyoomi doesn’t ask you to come to bed, it’s very possible that you just won’t? And he’s learned that the hard way.

Right before your finals you told him, “Yeah, I’m just going to study for another hour or so and then I’ll head to bed.”

He literally found you asleep at the kitchen table, your notecards all over the floor because you knocked them off at some point in the night

But, Sakusa is a good boyfriend so he’ll make you breakfast and some tea or coffee to help you start your day.

Speaking of coffee and tea. He’s limiting your caffeine intake :) oh, you want a cup of coffee/tea at 9 pm? “That shit better be decaf.” it’s literally just so you can sleep. Once 5 pm hits, he doesn’t let you have caffeine, but it’d be bogus if he sat next to you with a cup of tea, so he also doesn’t have caffeine in the evenings.

He’s definitely the type to show you that he cares more so than actually tell you how much he loves you

Miya Osamu

Superior twin

This is a joke i love both miya boys equally, even if atsumu does have piss hair

N E WAY. Osamu has no fucking clue what you’re talking about 90% of the time and I hate to break it to you, but-

He’s not going to take the time to learn like the others. He may stop you to ask questions, but that’s really it.

It’s not like he doesn’t care though! Osamu really loves that you’re following your passions. He just knows that even if you do explain it to him, he’s probably going to get lost in all of the logistics.

Most of the time, you’ll just see him nodding along with what you’re saying, popping in with a question or a comment every now and then. While he may not understand what you’re saying, he does take some interest in it.

He’ll ask you things about the medical equipment in your bag. Like, how does the blood pressure cuff work? Have you ever given yourself stitches? If he were to cut his hand chopping ingredients, could you fix it right here in the kitchen or would you still take him to the hospital? Can you really hear his heartbeat with those weird headphone things? It’s called a stethoscope ‘samu smh

Osamu is the king of making sure that you take good care of yourself. This man? Oh, he’s packing you a lunch every single day you have to go to class.

Better yet? If you come down to Onigiri Miya between classes, he’s going to pile your plate full of food and then he’s got a to-go container with more, just in case you get hungry. He has your favorite drink stocked so it’s there whenever you come by.

He won’t sit with you, because he’s usually pretty busy, but he will let you sit at the counter so he can talk to you while he prepares more onigiri.

‘Samu always asks how your day went. It’s the first thing out of his mouth whenever he sees you after your classes.

If you guys get done around the same time, he’ll meet you at your university to walk home with you.

He makes sure that you drink plenty of water. He’s like a waiter, I swear. Osamu will walk past you like every 20 minutes just to make sure that you have enough water and if he sees that you haven’t been drinking your water-

Prepare for a lecture on the importance of hydration as if you don’t already know that??

“‘Samu, I’ve had five glasses of water. I’m not thirsty.”

“You need to stay hydrated!”

He’ll try to help you study if you ask, but it usually ends up with you laughing as he tries to pronounce some medical term. He’ll toss the flashcard to the side and just huff, “That’s probably not going to be on the test.”

Like Sakusa, he’s pretty reserved when it comes to talking about his personal life, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have a picture of the two of you on your graduation day hanging up in Onigiri Miya.

He’s not going to say anything about it first though, but if someone asks? He can gush about you for a good ten minutes while his patrons smile and nod. Telling them how proud he is that his incredible s/o graduated from medical school with flying colors, explaining what field you’re in and what that means he’s literally just repeating what you told him once oops

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min-chery · 3 years

Text

In the way | KTH

Pairing: Artist! Taehyung x Sound therapist! Reader

Rating: PG-13

Genre: angst

Warnings: Swearing, Both MCs have a sad past :( , side pairing Yoongi x Jungkook and Jimin x Hoseok is mentioned.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: This is an excerpt from my ongoing series ‘Sky’ that is posted on Wattpad. I’ll insert the link right here if you want to check it out.

Also I have no much knowledge in sound therapy. So if you find any points inaccurate, you can leave it for me in the ask box!~

“Is that all you’ll need?” Taehyung asks, looking at the one bag that sits on the passenger seat of your car.

"Yes. Everyone in our team decided to split up and bring the necessities. I was in charge of lunch. So... this is enough." you reply. You had packed enough food for 8 people to eat one afternoon, a change of clothes, your laptop and sound equipment.

It had been three months since the two of you started dating. The two of you spent almost all of your free time with each other. A lot of time spent in each others’ homes and even met at each others’ places of work for lunch. One thing the two of you did in common at all places was make out.

It seemed impossible to keep your hands and lips to yourselves. Kissing against the wall, on the table, on the couch, on the bed and even on the living room floor. Too many times you’ve been walked in on, but you cannot bring yourselves to be fazed by it.

And now, you are getting ready for a project with your sound therapy group at a mountain a little far away. Another group that had been there before had claimed that the variety of birds that reside in the area make the most beautiful songs in the early hours. It was enough motivation for your group to decide to have a trip and record some of it.

"Okay. I think we're all done here." you sigh, standing on the tip of your toes and pulling Taehyung in for a hug by his shoulder. And he slumps into the embrace, nuzzling his face into your open hair. You rub his back, feeling your boyfriend yawn into your blue tresses.

"Still tired? You can go sleep, baby." you say, lifting his head and squishing his face in your palms. He shakes his head, pouting while his grip on your waist tightens.

"Go on, sweetheart. It's only 4am yet. You go catch up with some sleep, yeah?" you usher, wanting to see him well-rested and chirpy when you return in the evening. But he doesn't seem to want to oblige.

"Can't. Our best friends are too loud in there." He whines, eyes half closed as he falls back onto your shoulder. You laugh, happy for the two who are so in love.

"There won't be a disturbance anymore. I'm about to leave too." Yoongi joins in, with Jungkook holding his hand. Both of their hair are ruffled, sticking up at random places and clothes crumpled. Both look utterly ruined with blushes decorating their cheeks.

"Drop me off at my place, will you?" Yoongi asks you, placing a kiss at the side of Jungkook's head. He smiles at Taehyung as he gets into the passenger seat.

"Bye, Tae. See you later." you speak, pressing a kiss on his cold, red nose. Taehyung reluctantly lets go, pouting as he waves you goodbye. He watches you slip into the driver's seat and disappear into the morning.

"Aren't you tired? Come sleep with hyung." He tells a very drowsy Jungkook who's rubbing at his eyes, a sleeping yawn falling from his own lips.

***

It's around 1 pm when Taehyung calls you. You close your lunchbox that is almost finished, excusing yourself from the group.

"Tae bear!" you exclaim into the phone, voice full of cheer.

"Hey baby!" Taehyung replies, voice equally gleeful.

"How's the recording coming along?" he asks, sounds of a window being opened accompanying his voice from his side of the line.

"It went good, baby. Maybe we should come here on a date together some time. The view looks like one of the pictures you painted. Too beautiful."

"Maybe we should. Have you had your food yet, darling?" He asks and you hum into the receiver.

"Planning on returning yet? Or do you still have work to get done?"

"Why? Miss me already?"

"You know I do." Taehyung laughs.

"Our work is done but we found an amazing free climbing trail close by. Decided to check it out. And it's for beginners too." Leah says, expecting an enthusiastic response back. But all you's left with is stillness from the other line.

And then comes the shuffling, the sound of something falling down and Taehyung's muted cursing.

"What do you mean free climbing?" His voice somehow feels distant, piercing Leah through her heart.

"You know, rock climbing. And the ropes are going to assist me if I fall." you tentatively answer.

"And you thought it was okay to do that without telling me?"

"I didn't know I had to ask my boyfriend before I did things." Both of you speak with an edge to your voices, as if the sole purpose was to hurt one another.

"See ___. I understand that you have to climb up cliffs and dangerously high places for work. But this seems really unnecessary. I really need you to stop doing these things. Are you even aware of how many accidents take place during things like this?"

"You don't tell me what's necessary and what's not. I do it because it makes me happy. And I'm not going to let you stand in the way of my happiness."

"You can do whatever the fuck you want! I don't care anymore!" Taehyung yells. It has you flinching, lips wobbling from unpleasant memories of the past swarming you.

"Don't yell at me." you shout back, unable to hide the tremble in your voice. Taehyung is breathing hard into your ears through the phone.

"And it's not the first time I've noticed you clam up when I talk about going like this. You need to tell me whatever the fuck is your problem if you-" you never get to complete what you start from Taehyung abruptly ending the call.

Your hands tremble at your sides, knees feeling weak. It had been true when you said Taehyung clams up when such matters are brought up. Avoiding looking you in the eye and slowly drifting away from the conversation with an uncomfortable smile. It was clear he hated heights at this point.

But the extent to it was only now becoming clear when the ever calm yet cheerful Taehyung raised his voice. It seemed more of fear and frustration than anger towards you. But you weren't going to let him get away with yelling at you knowing how it affected you.

You make your way back to your group who are waiting for you with their bags on their back and smiles on their lips. Forcing a smile of your own, you sling the bag onto your back.

Like you said, you weren't going to let a guy get in the way of your happiness. No matter how much you love him.

***

Taehyung draws deft lines on the page of his new sketchbook with a charcoal pencil. He sighs, hating the texture of the pages with the kind of pencil he’s using. Everything blurs when he feels the tears rise. Hurt and shame surge through his veins for raising his voice at you. He looks out the window of the diner, watching droplets of rain wash over the street. For a minute he wonders what the two of you would've been doing in this weather had you not fought. Would the two of you be drinking a mug of hot cocoa at your apartment as you watch a movie on the couch? Or would the two of you have been watching the rain while cuddling on the swing in his balcony and being huddled in a single blanket?

‘I miss her.’ The voice in his head says. He misses you so much that it feels like a knife is lodged in his throat. But it's nothing compared to the way he’s felt when you left him behind that day. Better than being terrified to death wondering if he’d get a call bringing him news he'd never in his life want to hear.

Taehyung drops his head down on the table, pulling up the hood of his jacket as he goes down. Focusing on the pain that blossomed on his forehead, he forces all thoughts of you out of his head.

Just as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the loud noise and vibration of something being slammed down on the table reaches him. His head jerks up startled, coming face to face with the very person he’s been avoiding for a whole week. His lips part, nothing but silence falling out of it. You look vexed at his expression.

"A 100 calls!" you say, pointing at the phone you'd thrown onto the table with your call log on. "A 100 calls and countless texts. All to you. I even emailed you dammit! What the hell are you doing, huh? Ignoring me like that! Do you even remember you've got a girlfriend?" your voice takes on an edge, volume increasing the slightest than your normal.

He can't do anything but stare at your red face. He’s washed over with worry with how little you've dressed for a rainy evening. He holds himself back from swiping your wet lips in for a breathless kiss.

"Answer me!" you yell, slamming your hand down on the table. It makes him flinch in his seat. And the women at the counter.

"I don't want to." he says, a slight tremor in his voice. He avoids looking you in the eye, instead setting his gaze on the device on the table. He’s afraid anything he does will anger you further. And it does.

" 'Don't want to'?" You scoff dangerously. "What else do you not want!? Your girlfriend spending time doing something she likes!?" you grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him up from the chair and in front of the table.

Taehyung’s jaw ticks at your words and actions. He pushes your hand away and straightens the shirt. Dominating him like that in front of another person jabs at his ego as a man.

"That is not something I'm ready to talk about yet!" He shouts. Memories from the past swarm him, choking him so hard that it feels like he’s combusting from the inside.

"I'm your girlfriend, asshole! I would've listened to you if you had told me that at the time instead of yelling at me!"

"Stop repeating that you're my girlfriend!"

"Why!? Do relationships scare you now too!?"

"Because I'm not sure I want this anymore." he whispers, head falling low in resignation. It's only half-true. He does want it. More than anything else. But he’s too scared.

Fear, he learns, is the most dangerous emotion.

"You are breaking up with me?" you ask, voice too composed than earlier. Taehyung keeps looking down at his shoes. Big mistake.

You lift up the cup of hot tea from his table and smash it on the wall at your side. You throw it with so much force that the shards fly back at you, slashing you on the cheek. The hot liquid splatters all over your hand, turning it an angry red. You don't flinch. You stare at him, eyes void of anything he's ever seen in them. Like he has no more access to you.

You rove your eyes over him one more time and then turn away with your phone. You slam a fifty-dollar bill in front of Mrs. Choi at the counter and leave without looking at Taehyung again.

Taehyung looks around the cafe at the wreck the two of you have caused. He bends down to pick up the shards of glass through the tearful blur. He stays back, helping the part-timer clean up before he leaves. Mrs. Choi even comes around to take him into her arms, bracketing him into her motherly embrace.

Crying all through the walk back to his house, he asks himself the same question over and over again.

‘What the hell have I done?’

***

Yoongi can clearly see the smoke come out through the gaps of your bedroom door. His jaw ticking in anger, he pushes it open and immediately meets with the sight of his best friend.

You are leaning against her headboard, a cigarette clutched between the index and middle fingers of your healing hand. You leave out a puff of smoke and when he enters, you hurriedly push the remaining against the ashtray. You put it away in your drawer with wide eyes and fumbling hands.

"I saw that, ___. You're smoking again?" He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry I just... I didn't know you were coming over."

"So you were planning on keeping this away from me? You promised me you'd stop." He says, seating himself down beside you.

"You know why I do it." You sigh and pull the comforter over the lower half of your body, pulling your legs towards your chest. Clutching your face in your hands, you put it on your knees.

The sight of you, curled up against the headboard has Yoongi's heart wrenching in sadness. It had been a week since the breakup and you were still as broken as the day at the diner.

Moving closer, he pulls you to his side. Almost instantaneously, you lay your head on his shoulder and curl up against him.

"Why did you come over without telling me? You always call me before."

"Jimin called me. He was scared of how little he saw you around the house. And any time he did see you, he said you were high. Barely aware of what was happening."

"I should've worried him a lot. Where is he?" a troubled look crosses your features.

"Apparently it's been affecting him too much. So, Hobi took him out for some breakfast."

You hum. You are glad Hoseok is being a good boyfriend to your other best friend.

"You need to learn how to control your ang-"

"I can't Yoongi." You say, lifting up your hand. It trembled in frustration.

"I almost smashed a cup against his skull. Had I not mentally reminded myself of who was in front of me, I would've put him in the Emergency room." you recollect, wiping the tears.

"We can always seek help, ___." He rubs up and down your arms to soothe your emotions.

"Is that okay?" He asks and you nod against his shoulder blade. The two of you bask in the silence afterward. Embracing the calmness that you knew wouldn't last once the voices in your head get too loud.

"Should've known it was too good to be true." You sniffle, "He was way too perfect from the beginning."

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