#people just saying words without knowing what they mean bye

[todayisafridaynight]

Ah, yes, the famously liberal positions of *checks notes* harassing sex workers and deporting immigrants.

wild i know

[laufeysvalentine]

cat's out the bag

spencer reid x fem!reader | masterlist

summary ༄ spencer reid x secret relationship!reader — in which members of the bau go out for dinner and see spencer with... a girl?

early seasons spencer, twilight & ariana grande references for some reason (i don't even listen to her), reader sits on spencer's lap, disgustingly cute but mostly disgusting

word count ༄ 2k

nora’s notes ༄ my first spencer reid fic + a new writing style. this may be a complete disaster 💖

Spencer’s in the middle of finishing up a reread of a Sherlock Holmes installment and packing up from work when the clomping of two pairs of shoes ruins his peace. 

“Morning, genius,” one of the voices says, bubbling with sweetness in just a way he knows exactly who it is without having to look at the two shadows that enter his vision, blocking the light. 

“It’s almost evening. In fact, it’s been six hours, thirty-four minutes, and eighteen seconds since morning,” he mutters, flicking the page over. “Now, move. I can’t see.” 

“No, you’ve been in a funk all week and we’re going to get you out of it,” Garcia sing-songs, taking his book hostage. She looks the opposite of how he has the past week–put together, with a perfect outfit, as always. “I don’t care why you’ve been a grump, only that you come out with us tonight, yeah? You don’t have to drink, just hang out.” 

He looks up, reluctance prodding his expression. Garcia and Derek are side-to-side, arms crossed, looking down at him. Yeah, nope. “I’m busy tonight.” 

“With?” Derek raises an eyebrow. “You got a date, pretty boy?” 

“I’m meeting with a friend who’s been out-of-town.” He responds, reaching out for his book. “Okay, Dad?” 

“Seriously, Reid?” JJ chimes in from behind the other two. “Come out with us.” 

“I’m busy. I would say I was sorry, but I’m not. 1 in 8 people apologize at least twenty times a day. 43% of people regularly apologize during a situation in which they are not at fault–” Spencer begins as he turns away from them to collect his things. 

“Yeah, that’s enough. Getting Hotch to come was hard enough, I’ll call it quits while I still can. See you tomorrow, Reid.” JJ turns on her heel and walks back towards her own desk.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow too.” He nods and passes them on his way out. “Bye.” 

Garcia looks at Derek, her eyebrows cocked. “Well, then.” 

“Guess it’ll just be you and me, baby girl,” he teases, heading to walk back to his desk. 

“Just the way I like it.” Her heels nip the back of his shoes as she chases after him. “Even though JJ and Hotch will be there too.” 

“They can watch.” 

— 

“When’s Hotch getting here?” JJ drums her fingers on the side of her glass, tilting her head up. The restaurant they’re in is loud and crowded, the three of them squished into a booth clearly meant for two, all having glasses of what the waitress described as “fun, flirty drinks” cradled in their hands. Garcia’s stirring some kind of electric pink concoction with an equally pink umbrella when a throat clears. 

“I’m here,” their boss says, sliding into the booth next to them. His eyebrows furrow–well, maybe that’s just his resting face, they can’t really tell–as he glances at the drink in Derek’s hands. “What exactly is it that you’re drinking?” 

He shrugs, taking a sip. “I think it’s called the Orange Surprise. Not that there’s anything surprising about it–or this place, at all, really. I mean, look around. And this just tastes like–” 

“Wait,” Garcia interrupts, eyes on something behind him. She whips off her glasses, rubbing them furiously on her shirt before her jaw drops and she begins to stand in her seat. “Is it just me or is that Reid over there with a girl? A gorgeous girl at that?” 

As soon as she finishes her sentence, three more heads whip around to her line of vision, shock pulling at their faces. Even Hotch looks mildly surprised. 

From their vantage point in the restaurant, they can see Spencer’s side profile as he stares at a girl across the table from him–you, looking magnificent, even in the dingy, uneven bar lighting. Your elbows are on the table, face cradled by your hands as you stare up at him. The love shining out of your face--lips parted with intrigue as you listen, eyes soft, cheeks relaxed--is sickeningly lovely. And even at first glance, a table full of profilers can tell just how much you care about him–enough to reach across the table and smooth down an untidy lapel, enough to listen raptly as the words begin spilling out of him in a ramble, to smile at him with a kind of learned tenderness you only get from knowing someone with incredible intimacy and just time. 

“Oh. My. God.” She tries to scooch past Derek, who catches her by the hips. 

“Wait, baby girl. I wanna see how this plays out before we interrupt. What if that’s a cousin? I don't know, a friend?” He says, stalling her. She reluctantly sits back in her seat, neck craned. 

“They’re touching,” JJ reports, a gasp falling from her lips. “Reid hates touch.” 

“We can see, JJ,” Derek quips, though his jaw is just as dropped. 

As soon as the boy started rambling, everyone at the table expected you to get up and walk away, or look as bored as they felt listening to him. But you stayed. Your eyes are on his, nodding every so often. They watch as one of your hands wanders to Spencer’s arm, rubbing a circle on the fabric of his button-down. He looks so relaxed in your presence, unlike they’ve ever seen him before. What the hell is happening?

“Please let me go over,” Penelope begs. “I need to know. I need to meet her!” 

“I second it,” JJ echoes. “They’re worse than the two of you, and I didn’t think that was possible with Genius over there.” 

“No, we still don’t know if they’re long-term or first date or what. What if we barge in and they’re just friends?” Derek almost sounds convincing. Almost.

“That is not friendly behavior,” Hotch chimes in. Their attention lasers in on the table in front of them, shock freezing their limbs. You’re pouting, saying something to Spencer–he’s melting in your hands, nodding so much it looks like his head could just screw off any moment now, and you stand. Are you going to leave? Break up? What’s happening? 

You wander to his side of the table, and, in the most disgusting display of PDA ever, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands knitting themselves together behind his neck. And Spencer is sickeningly okay with it, hands traveling to your hips, massaging your pelvic bones as you say something to him. A blush pinches his cheeks–no, it’s like a virus, spreading all over his face as he buries himself into your neck. 

Garcia thinks she heard Derek gag. A giggle escapes you, loud enough to hear from their booth. From across the restaurant.  

“Okay, we’re going over,” he announces, standing from the table. “Even just to break this up. I’m nauseous.” 

“Copy that,” JJ contorts her face, following the group towards them. 

Garcia’s practically skipping ahead, expression both accusatory and giddy as she reaches your table. Her hands slam onto the wood, eyes wide as Spencer rears back, immediately on alert. “Alright, Reid, explain yourself now.” 

“Less dramatic, princess,” Derek whispers to her, nudging her shoulder. 

You cock your head at the quartet. They can all tell you’re mentally scanning them, just as much as they’re doing to you. It takes you a couple moments–and Spencer’s groan as he returns to his previous position nestled on your shoulder–before it clicks who they are. 

You jump up, abandoning Spencer with an embellished gasp. “You must be the BAU!” 

“Minus a few members, yes.” Hotch nods at you, looking the exact picture of what your boyfriend had described. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t be able to peer past the perfectly neutral, bordering on pleasant mask he’s pasted on his face. But that twitch of his lips gives it all away: he knew nothing about you, and mentally his jaw is on the floor. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“You too…Aaron Hotchner?” You guess, biting your lip. You’re so purely adorable that half of the team is already in love with you. 

He nods, and you smile at all of them. The happiness you’re wearing is so genuine that JJ whispers to Derek, “I think I just got blinded.”

“And you’re Penelope Garcia?” You turn towards her, eyebrows raised. She reaches her hand to shake yours, but you bypass it entirely and go in to wrap your arms firmly around her. She hugs you back, eyes blown up at shock.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’ve been keeping her from me this whole time!” She accuses Spencer as you pull back, greeting the other members as well. You hear the surprise in JJ’s laugh as you do the same for her, hug firm and leaking with kindness. 

“I haven’t,” he responds matter-of-factly. He’s resisting the urge to pull you back into him, annoyed at all of his colleagues for stealing your time together. Instead, he shifts to the edge of the seat, legs opening wide in a manspread that would be absolutely disgusting on anyone else. But it fits him. Alarmingly well. “I talk about Y/N all the time.” 

“Y/N’s your girlfriend?” Garcia’s tone borders on a shriek, but in a restaurant as loud as this one, no one notices. “I thought she was your cousin!” 

“Ew, what?” you crinkle your nose just as Spencer echoes your words–“That’s disgusting. But scarily more common than you’d think.” 

“I-I mean, you do talk about her a lot. You’ve just never mentioned her in relation to you before.” She sputters out. Everyone can see the cogs turning in her brain, trying to piece the puzzle together. “I love you already.” 

“He said he wouldn’t talk about us at work,” you agree, letting his arm pull you between his legs, one hand falling to your thigh. “Do you guys want to sit down? Now that the cat’s out of the bag, we should catch up.” 

“Um, yes, absolutely!” Garcia throws her hands into the air, scooching the two of you over so she can fit into the booth. “Now, tell me absolutely everything.” 

You shrug, snug on your boyfriend’s lap while also leaning in to look at her. Both of you sparkle in a way he absolutely adores. “I saw him, I liked him, I wanted him, and I got him.” 

“In the wise words of Ariana Grande,” she nods, words wise and expression stoic.

“Are you an Arianator?” You gasp, hand collapsing onto her hand in excitement. She takes that cue to launch into something Spencer does not at all understand. The other members of the BAU shuffle into the other side of the booth, Derek closest to Spencer and JJ at the end. He almost lets out a laugh seeing Hotch sitting so uncomfortably between them, shoulders drawn up tight as to conserve room, face equally as scrunched.

He opens his mouth to comment, but your fingers interrupt, drumming on his shoulder in excitement. You recap your conversation in a voice no one else can quite hear but him. He nods as you ramble, the opposite of what you were doing for him a few minutes ago. In some ways, you're just like him, but you're also complete opposites in so many others. While he usually hates physical touch, you lean into it, fingers tracing patterns onto his broad back while the sun peeks out of the sky, showering him in a glow that makes him downright angelic. Your other hand creeps to his as you watch him brush his teeth–you love seeing his toothbrush next to yours, there’s something so incredibly romantic about it that you can't describe, something that intertwines the two of you. He’s yours, you’re his. 

He presses his lips to your hair, then behind your hair, inhaling you. You’re perfect for him. So, so perfect. 

“Wow, pretty boy.” Derek shakes his head. “Just when I thought I’d seen everything. I didn’t think you’d be so into PDA.” 

“She was away for a whole week. What do you expect me to do?” He huffs, arm wrapping around your waist. Yes, he still hates handshakes, but for you–well, he is absolutely pathetic. And after having you leave for work? Not seeing you for seven whole days? He would get down on his knees and beg you to hold his hand. To pay him an ounce of attention. God, he is unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. 

“Greet her like a normal person. Or stay in your apartment,” Morgan advises, only half-joking. 

But Spencer’s no longer paying a shred of attention to anything his co-worker is saying. He’s too absorbed in you, laugh unabashed and tinkling as you discuss something animatedly with JJ and Garcia. You fit so well in his little family, he thinks. You might as well just stay with him forever. 

masterlist

tags @lydiasfalling @cowboylikemac - didn't tag anyone from my other list because it's a diff fandom!

[w2soneshots]

a saying bye to george before inside fic would be sooo cute :( maybe eith a little bit of smut too?

One week -George clarkey

words: 1.0k+

warnings: smut, head (fem rec), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, aftercare.

summary: before George leaves for a week to be on sidemen’s INside you and him spend a steamy night together.

notes: living for watching George on netflix every morning🙂‍↕️. Love this request, thank you babes🫶🏼. I hope you enjoy!!❤️‍🔥✨ (mini part two here)

Tomorrow George is leaving you for a week to participate in the sidemen's 'inside', a netflix television show where twelve people live in a house together with one million pounds up for grabs, though everything costs money.

When he told you he was going to be doing it you were so excited for him. Though, since you spend most of your time with him and you message whenever you're not together you knew you were definitely going to miss him.

You walked into your shared bedroom to see him packing. "Hi," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his torso. "Hello darling." He turned around, now looking down at you.

"You alright?" He asked softly. You nodded slowly before replying, "just gonna be weird not having you here." He squeezed you tighter in agreement. "I know, I'm gonna miss this face," he said, running his thumb over your cheek.

"What're you packing?" You asked once you'd broke apart, inspecting his suitcase. "An toothbrush-" you interrupted him with a chuckle. "What?" He smiled, confused. "Just, 'A toothbrush', still can't believe a Jeremy Clarkson quote has become apart of your daily vocabulary."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I don't know why I picked that up to be fair," he replied. You took a step closer to him with a bright smile. "I think it's hilarious."

An hour later he'd finished and had everything at the door, ready to go for the morning. He sighed deeply as he plopped himself down on your large, comfy sofa. "Done?" You asked, putting your phone down. "Done," he confirmed.

You spent the rest of the night watching a movie and cuddling after you'd ordered one last big takeaway, since George was most likely going to be on a diet of rice and beans for the foreseeable.

Somehow, as the credits of the film played in the background, you'd ended up on George's lap, while the two of you slowly made out.

"Not gonna see you for a whole week... a whole week without sex," he whispered into your ear. You breathed heavily, lips puffy from kissing as you took in his words.

Your sex life was un-fucking believable in the beginning and the flame just never really burnt out... meaning, -even though you weren't animals and could go a week without fucking each other- you knew when he came home you were going to get straight into bed.

"Mmm... yeah. We should probably do it twice to make up for it?" You smirked. "Definitely." He flipped you onto the couch and your back hit the cushions. "Ow!" You yelled. The vibe changed and George's face turned white.

You reached behind you and pulled the tv control from underneath your back and flung it onto the rug covering the floor. He immediately calmed and let out a breath of relief. "All good, continue." You both burst out laughing before getting back to business.

He reached a hand back to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it... somewhere, you weren't paying attention and didn't actually care. You hummed happily as he leaned down to pepper kisses along your collarbone.

The both of you were savouring the moment, though were completely naked within a few minutes. George slowly made his way down your body, leaving bright purple marks as he went. When he settled between your legs you ran a hand through his hair. "Sure?" You asked. "Always," he replied before placing a kiss to your clit, making you tense in pleasure.

"Oh m' god George...!" You moaned out as he ate you out. His tongue going from circling your clit to sliding down your folds to dip into your aching cunt.

"George, George, George," you chanted, extremely close to the edge, which he was well aware of, "don't stop- I'm gonna-" you sank back into the pillows as your orgasm overcame your body, vision turning white.

"That was- fucking-" "yes it was fucking, good analysis sweetheart," he teased as his face met yours once again. You giggled as you pushed his shoulder playfully. "Very funny, now are you gonna fuck me or should I go to bed?" "The first one," he replied quickly. "Thought so."

George grunted and his face twisted when he finally pressed into you. "Jesus- god- always so- hmf- tight baby," he husked as he reached the hilt. Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your skull at the sensation.

"Move George, move." Your arms and legs wrapped around him, heels pushing on his lower back. Without hesitation he pulled his hips back until just his tip remained inside of you, then he plummeted back into you.

His rhythm picked up and you met his thrusts as the room filled with your lewd sounds. "I love you- ugh- so fucking much y/n," he breathed out as your bodies collided over and over again.

"I'm gonna miss you- and this, you and this," you said as his thrusts grew sloppy and you approached your second orgasm. "y/n I-" "I know, me too. Come for me," you cut him off.

The both of you came hard, one after the other. His body fell onto yours. Your breath's heavy as you recovered from the last thirty minutes. Nether of you said a word as he got up, reached down, took you in his arms and walked towards the bathroom, your head resting tiredly on his chest.

"Okay?" He checked as he set you down on the toilet before leaving for a split second to grab two towels, then he moved to turn the shower on, steam beginning to fill the room from the hot water. "Yeah, incredible," you replied, voice quiet as you remained slightly dazed.

You got up and joined him in the shower a moment later, the water immediately making you feel ten times better and cleaner. "Here," he poured your favourite body wash onto a loofah and began running it gently over your body.

Five minutes later you were both clean, dry and lying in your bed, savouring one of your last moments together before he became a netflix star. "Night," you whispered, breathing in his scent as he cuddled you. "Good night gorgeous, love you."

[7ndipity]

Every Little Thing

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.

Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)

Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread

A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I don’t know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if y’all want a part two, we can pick up from there?

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

As you got off the elevator, you couldn’t help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongi’s studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.

Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.

As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s.

“You wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?” Namjoon asked.

“Agh, I can’t, I told Y/n’s we could hang out today.” You heard Yoongi’s chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.

“Again? That’s like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking you’re a couple or something at this rate.” Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Yoongi replied, sounding tired. “They’re just being clingier than usual, you know what they’re like.”

You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?

“I know it’s just cause they’ve been stressed lately,” Yoongi continued. “But honestly, it’s gotten to the point where it’s weirder for them to not be here.”

Joon chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t find that annoying.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Yoongi said. “But it’s Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-”

You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.

Yoongi had always told you that he didn’t mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, are you almost here?” He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.

“Uh, actually, I don’t think I can make it today.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned.

No, one of my best friends hates me. “Yeah, everything’s fine, something just came up, sorry.” You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.

“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced. “Is it anything I can help with, or-?”

“No, no it’s-, it’s a work thing.” You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright.” He said reluctantly. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You hung up, letting out a deep breath.

You could tell he hadn’t believed you, but you didn’t really care at the moment. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?

Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.

You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. He’d promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.

Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. You’d told him at the time that it didn’t matter, you’d just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparently…

Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didn’t believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.

It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.

So you’d been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasn’t it?

You weren’t so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongi’s name illuminated on the screen. You’d forgotten you said you’d call him.

‘Hadn’t heard from you, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?’ The text read.

Now who’s the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.

‘I’m fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.’ You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.

For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didn’t go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.

One place you couldn’t avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didn’t know.

“Y/n!” Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didn’t speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.

“Y/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to move for me, I’m fine over here.” You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.

Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.

“I haven’t seen you all week.” Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.

“Yeah, things have just been kinda busy.” You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show you’d been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.

You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. You’d felt Yoongi’s eyes on you all evening, but hadn’t said anything.

It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.

Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.

Who’s there?” You called anxiously, trying to remember where you’d put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.

“It’s Yoongi.”

You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.

Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.

Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” He responded with his own question, staring you down.

“I-, I haven’t-”

“Don’t lie.” He stopped you.

Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.

“You’ve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldn’t sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know he’s terrible at.” He continued as you closed the door. “So, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that I was annoying you?” You snapped.

He stopped, staring at you in confusion. “What?”

“I heard you and Joon talking last week,” You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. “About how clingy I’ve been, and how I’ve been annoying you by hanging around so much.”

“You haven’t been-”

“Don’t.” It was your turn to cut him off. “Don’t try to tell me that it’s not true or you didn’t mean it. What I want to know is why you weren’t just honest with me?” You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!”

“Because I fucking love you!” He blurted out.

You froze, staring at him in shock. “What?!”

“I-, I love you.” He said quietly.

“You love me?” You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. “You love me, but you think I’m annoying?”

“I think everyone’s annoying!” He tossed his hands up in frustration. “The difference is that I like your annoyance!

“I like that you’re loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.” He said. “I like that you’re happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that you’re doing it.”

He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.

“I like every little annoying thing that you do, because they’re what make you you. I’m so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.”

You hadn’t moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.

“Y/n?” He asked anxiously.

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.

“I missed you.” You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.”

“Eh, it’s kinda on brand for us, honestly.” You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.

“I guess you’re right, fuck.” He shook his head.

“You wanna try again?” You offered.

He pulled back to look at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “If you want to.”

He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He’d barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.

“I love you too, by the way.” You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.

“Cool, c’mere.” He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[herrscherofinsanity]

Tangled Webs and Heartstrings

Spider!Minjeong... subtlety has never been her thing!

Fluff

Kim Minjeong (Winter) x fem!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Yes, this was a request. Yes, I had lots of fun doing it. Sorry for the wait, hope it was worth it!

____________________

The school gym is packed.

It’s the end of the day, and the student council is setting up for some kind of fundraiser — a bake sale, a raffle, something y/n y/l/n had excitedly pitched with sparkles in her eyes and a hundred volunteers too afraid to say no. Minjeong isn't even sure why she’s here, crouched awkwardly behind the snack table in her hoodie, pretending to fix the paper banner even though she’s mostly just watching y/n from a distance.

She tells herself it’s purely coincidental. Totally accidental. Not at all because y/n looks extra pretty in her student council sash, or because she’d smiled at Minjeong earlier and said, “You’re helping too? Cute.”

Nope. Not because of that.

Minjeong fiddles with a roll of tape to distract herself. She’s not Spiderwoman right now. She’s just… Minjeong. Ordinary. Invisible. Safe.

Then, as if summoned by karma itself, she hears it:

“Ow—! Whoa—!”

She looks up just in time to see y/n — up on a bench trying to pin the final banner over the gym door — lose her balance.

Minjeong gasps, the world slows, she doesn’t think — just moves.

By the time y/n blinks, Spiderwoman is already there.

She swings in through the high gym windows, landing with a soft thwip of web. She catches y/n mid-fall, bridal-style, one arm around her back and the other steadying her knees.

y/n stares.

Spiderwoman blinks.

“…Hi?” Minjeong says, her voice just a little too high-pitched behind the mask.

y/n arches a brow. “You again?”

Spiderwoman gently sets her down on the ground. “You, uh, twisted your ankle. I think. I mean—I saw—well, not like I was watching you—I just—was passing by! Over the gym. You know. Swinging.” She gestures vaguely upward. “Air.”

y/n bites her lip, clearly fighting a smile. “You really do show up every time I so much as sneeze in public.”

“I—it’s not just you,” Spiderwoman mutters. “I save lots of people.”

“Right, sure.” y/n grins, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You wouldn’t happen to be stalking me, would you?”

“I—what? No! No, I—who would do that? That’s crazy. So crazy. Like, unhinged, even.”

y/n leans in just a little. “You’re kind of cute when you panic.”

Minjeong makes a sound like a squeaky toy and nearly trips over her own web.

“I—I should go. You’re safe. Mission accomplished. Okay. Bye.”

She fires a web to the rafters, nearly misses, and stumbles as it catches. y/n watches, fully amused, as the masked hero flails for a second before swinging off, muttering to herself about "stupid gravity" and “why now of all times.”

y/n tilts her head, watching her disappear through the window.

She rubs her ankle, then glances down at her wrist.

Wrapped around it is a thin strand of web — almost like a ribbon. Almost like a calling card.

y/n smiles to herself. “Spiderwoman, huh?” she says under her breath. “Interesting.”

-----

Minjeong’s Room – 8:42 PM

Minjeong groans and drops face-first onto her bed, still wearing her Spiderwoman suit from the waist up, mask thrown to the floor in dramatic shame.

“Why am I like this,” she mumbles into her pillow.

She rolls over and stares at the ceiling, arms flopped out like a starfish. Her cheeks are still burning. She replays it in her head — the twist, the save, the bridal carry, the flirting.

“She called me cute,” Minjeong groans, grabbing a pillow and smacking herself with it. “She called me cute, and I ran away like a complete loser.”

The small radio on her desk buzzes to life with police chatter. She glances at it, then looks away.

“Nope. Not going out again tonight. The city can survive one night without me. I almost tripped on my own web… in front of her. I have no dignity left.”

She picks up a crumpled notebook and opens it. Inside are quick sketches — little doodles of Spiderwoman and a mysterious girl with a sash and a mischievous smile. She stares at it, then hurriedly shoves it under her pillow like it might explode.

“She definitely suspects something. I need to stop showing up every time she breathes.”

Pause.

“…She has a really nice smile though.”

--

y/n’s Room – 8:43 PM

y/n sits cross-legged on her bed, ankle wrapped in a soft bandage, phone in hand, and a suspiciously giddy look on her face.

Across from her, Ryujin lounges with a face mask on, peeking up from her book.

“Okay,” Ryujin says slowly, “what’s got you smiling like that? Did another freshman confess their love again?”

y/n snorts. “No, not this time. Though that was hilarious. No, today’s chaos was… new.”

She taps her screen and holds it up. It’s a blurry photo someone caught in the gym — Spiderwoman, mid-swing, cradling y/n in her arms like a rom-com hero. The caption: “She came flying in out of nowhere???”

Ryujin laughs. “Okay, that’s amazing. But also? She’s totally into you.”

y/n raises a brow. “She is?”

“y/n, be serious. You’ve been rescued, what, four times now? And somehow, it’s always you. That girl’s got a spider crush.”

y/n hums, not denying it. “She’s… interesting. I think I get why people like the mystery. But here’s the thing—” she leans forward, eyes glittering with mischief, “I think I know who she is.”

Ryujin lowers her book. “Wait, what?”

y/n smiles to herself and says nothing more. But in her head, she’s already thinking of the quiet girl in the hoodie, the way Minjeong panicked when their hands brushed last week, the way her voice trembled when she said y/n looked nice at the last student council meeting.

Too many coincidences.

And maybe… just maybe… y/n kind of wants it to be her.

-----

Minjeong stands at her locker, staring into it blankly like the answers to life are hidden behind her math books.

She hasn’t slept much — her dreams were full of red sashes, crooked smiles, and falling out of the sky into y/n y/l/n’s arms instead of the other way around. The memory of yesterday's disaster still burns under her skin.

She exhales sharply and mutters, “Just act normal. Be cool. Avoid eye contact. Maybe move to Canada.”

“Morning, Minjeong!”

Minjeong jumps so hard she almost drops her books.

y/n y/l/n is right behind her, glowing like the sun, hair done up in a lazy ponytail, sash off for the day but still carrying herself like royalty. Her ankle is wrapped but she walks just fine — too fine, if you ask Minjeong. Suspiciously fine.

“Oh,” Minjeong says, voice cracking. “Hi! Hello! You’re here.”

y/n raises an amused brow. “Well, yeah. School. I do go here.”

“Right! Of course. Obviously.”

y/n leans a little closer, her voice lower now. “You look tired.”

Minjeong stares at her. “I slept. I mean—yes. I do that. Sleeping. At night. Regular hours. Normal human stuff.”

y/n grins like a cat who’s found a very entertaining mouse. “You know,” she says, twirling a strand of her hair, “Spiderwoman saved me again yesterday.”

Minjeong chokes on air.

y/n continues, voice sweet and casual. “She always shows up just in time. It’s weird, right? Almost like she’s watching me.”

Minjeong blinks. “That is weird. Super weird. Creepy, even. You should… maybe install cameras?”

y/n hums thoughtfully. “Or maybe I should just pay closer attention to the people around me.”

Minjeong lets out a high-pitched laugh. “Why would you do that?”

y/n just smiles and walks away, leaving a short-circuiting Minjeong frozen in front of her locker, fully broken.

-----

y/n didn’t plan to go get ice cream, but she’s finished her student council duties early, it’s a sunny day, and frankly, she feels like causing minor mischief. So, she heads out alone, takes a stroll, and ends up at her favorite spot near the park.

She's halfway through ordering when the universe intervenes.

A kid on a skateboard comes out of nowhere, careening down the sidewalk. y/n steps back just a little too late — her foot catches the curb, and she stumbles backward.

“Oh come on—”

Before she can hit the pavement, Spiderwoman drops down from above in an absolute flourish of limbs and webbing, catching y/n around the waist like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.

y/n ends up dipped backward like its prom night.

Spiderwoman blinks.

y/n smirks.

“…This is getting suspicious,” y/n murmurs, looking up at the masked girl who’s clearly blushing under that suit.

“I was just… around,” Spiderwoman squeaks.

“Of course you were.” y/n twirls a strand of her hair. “Let me guess. You were swinging over the ice cream parlor?”

“I was, um… craving strawberry?”

y/n laughs — full, bright, genuine. “You’re ridiculous.”

Spiderwoman helps her upright again, awkward and bashful. “You’re okay though, right?”

y/n nods, brushing off her skirt. “I always am when you’re around.”

That definitely short-circuits Spiderwoman, who nearly stumbles over her own feet trying to swing off again. y/n watches her disappear into the sky, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“I’ve got to figure out who you are,” she says under her breath. “Because this? This is fun.”

-----

“I’m gonna die. This is it. This is how I go. Death by flirting. At least she’s hot.”

Minjeong drops her head onto the cafeteria table. Jimin gently pats her back like she’s in mourning. Aeri sips her drink, unimpressed. Yizhuo is already halfway through her bag of chips, eating with the energy of someone watching a reality show.

“What happened this time?” Aeri asks dryly.

“She almost fell at the ice cream shop yesterday,” Minjeong groans, still face-down. “And I just happened to be around. Again.”

“You mean,” Jimin says carefully, “you were stalking her.”

“No! I was just—okay yes, but lightly. I was passing by!”

“You swooped in and cradled her like a rom-com lead,” Yizhuo adds, tossing a chip into her mouth. “That’s not casual. That’s soulmate behavior.”

Minjeong lifts her head just enough to pout. “She’s onto me. I can tell. She kept looking at me weird this morning, and she keeps teasing me about Spiderwoman. I think she’s playing with me.”

“She probably is,” Aeri says bluntly. “And you’re letting her.”

“She smirked, Aeri. She smirked and said ‘you’re always around when I’m in trouble.’ Like—like I don’t try to save everyone. Like I’m her personal superhero.”

“Which you are,” Jimin says, beaming.

“I’m gonna get exposed,” Minjeong whimpers. “She’s going to unmask me and then laugh and say ‘wow I really thought you’d be taller.’”

“Honestly,” Yizhuo says, “if she finds out and still flirts with you, it’s a win.”

“IF!?”

--

y/n leans back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, sipping an iced coffee like she owns the school. She taps her pen against her planner and smiles to herself.

Across the room, Ryujin raises a brow. “What are you plotting now?”

“Me?” y/n says innocently. “Nothing, just thinking.”

Ryujin doesn’t even blink. “Don’t lie to me, you’re glowing. That’s your mischief face.”

y/n sighs dramatically. “Fine. If I were plotting, hypothetically, it would be… a light social experiment.”

“Which means?”

y/n smiles wider. “I’ve narrowed it down. Spiderwoman is definitely someone from this school, and I think she might be Minjeong.”

Ryujin blinks. “The tiny one who blushes when you say ‘hi��?”

“The very same.”

“…y/n, be serious.”

“I am,” she hums. “Think about it. Spiderwoman’s voice? Nervous. Awkward. Like she’s trying to be confident and only halfway succeeding. She always shows up where I am, which is honestly flattering. And yesterday, Minjeong looked like she saw a ghost when I teased her about it.”

Ryujin stares. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

y/n leans forward, eyes glinting. “Oh, I’m thriving. And now… we test the waters.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m going to be somewhere ‘dangerous’ after school.”

“y/n—”

“I’m not going to actually fall off anything,” she says with a scoff. “I’m just going to see if she shows up.”

Ryujin pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re such a menace.”

y/n grins. “She started it.”

-----

y/n stretches her arms as the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the rooftop. She leans over the edge just a little, enough to look dramatic but not enough to trigger a real emergency.

She’s counting down in her head.

3… 2… 1…

Thwip.

“Hey! That’s not safe, y’know!”

y/n bites back a smile and turns, as if surprised. “Oh? Spiderwoman? What a coincidence.”

Minjeong — Spiderwoman — swings down from the rooftop ledge and lands in a little tumble-roll, clearly trying to appear cool despite the fact that she nearly faceplanted. “Wh-what are you doing up here? It's, uh… dangerous.”

y/n blinks innocently. “I just wanted to watch the sunset.”

Minjeong panics. “You could’ve fallen!”

“I had faith you'd catch me.”

That makes Spiderwoman stammer. “Wh— I mean—of course I would! I-I’m always around. Y’know. Just… protecting people.”

“Really?” y/n steps closer, eyes twinkling. “Because you seem to be protecting me a lot lately.”

Silence.

Spiderwoman lets out a nervous laugh, clearly glitching. “Haha… well, you… just have very bad luck, that’s all!”

y/n tilts her head. “Or maybe you like me.”

Spiderwoman makes an inhuman squeak. “W-what?! N-no— I mean yes— I mean no— I mean—!”

y/n walks past her, casually brushing her shoulder as she heads to the exit. “Thanks for the save, Spidey.”

Minjeong is left rooted in place, mask slightly askew, heart pounding. What she didn’t know was that the most stressful week of her life was about to start.

--

Day 1 – Monday:

y/n is standing beneath a ladder that a janitor is using. A bucket of paint just so happens to tilt from the top—

Thwip!

Spiderwoman catches it mid-air with a web, flinging it safely aside.

“You have the best timing.”

“You have the worst luck! Why were you just standing there?”

“Maybe I was hoping you'd show up.”

--

Day 2 – Tuesday:

y/n is carrying a suspiciously tall stack of books down the library stairs. Of course, she trips.

Spiderwoman catches her bridal-style.

“We really have to stop meeting like this.”

“Or you could just—like—not fall off things?!”

--

Day 3 – Wednesday:

y/n stands under a tree during lunch. A bird decides to attack her hair.

Spiderwoman appears out of nowhere, shooing the bird off like some chaotic fairy godmother.

“I feel like a Disney princess with a superhero guardian.”

“You need a leash, is what you need!”

--

Day 4 – Thursday:

y/n reaches to get a soda from a vending machine. The machine glitches. y/n shakes it. The machine teeters.

Spiderwoman swings in, literally kicks the machine to save y/n.

“That was hot.”

“THAT WAS DANGEROUS.”

--

Day 5 – Friday:

The week ends at the school theater. y/n is helping with stage decorations, she’s standing on a wobbly chair.

Of course, it tips.

And of course—Thwip!

y/n falls right into a web… and Spiderwoman’s arms.

She looks up, grinning. “You always catch me.”

Spiderwoman is quiet for a second. “Yeah… always.”

-----

y/n is sprawled on her bed, legs kicking behind her as she scribbles in a pink glittery notebook. At the top of the page in bubble letters:

“Reasons Why Minjeong is Spiderwoman”

Weird bruises she can’t explain

Always disappears before Spiderwoman shows up

Same height, same awkward voice

Adorably clumsy in both identities

I’ve fallen into her arms five times and it’s been the exact same hug every time

Minjeong’s ears turn red just like Spiderwoman’s mask does when she’s flustered

I just know okay???

y/n taps her pen against her lips, grinning to herself. “Time to poke the bear.”

-----

y/n corners Minjeong by her locker, leaning against it casually, smiling like she knows something.

“Hey, Minjeong.”

Minjeong, half-choking on her own spit: “O-oh! H-hi! Good morning! H-how are you!?”

“I’m great, actually. Bit of a weird week though. I’ve been rescued by a superhero like five times.”

Minjeong’s smile falters. “H-ha. That’s… haha… yeah, weird. Really… strange.”

y/n leans closer. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Minjeong is frozen. “Me? Know about what?”

y/n lifts a brow. “Spiderwoman, of course.”

Minjeong nearly drops her books. “Wh-WHY WOULD I— no! I mean no! I mean why would you think I know her? I’m— I’m just—” she gestures vaguely at herself, “Minjeong.”

The other girl hums, eyes twinkling. “Sure you are.”

-----

During lunch, y/n is sitting with Liz, Ryujin, and Yeji at lunch, eyes locked across the room where Minjeong is poking at her food, clearly paranoid.

Yeji leans in. “So, uh… is it working?”

y/n smirks. “She’s one panic away from crawling up the wall.”

Liz smirks right back. “You’re playing with fire.”

Ryujin lets out a laugh. “Honestly? I’m rooting for the flames.”

y/n grins, “I just want her to admit it. And maybe kiss me after.”

--

Minjeong whispers across the table to herself as if in prayer. “I’m so doomed. I’m so, so doomed. She knows. She’s toying with me.”

“Is she flirting or threatening you?” Jimin asks carefully.

“Yes.”

-----

It’s a rare cloudy afternoon in the city, and school let out early due to some power outage. y/n, of course, decided to casually take a stroll toward her favorite boba shop. Alone. In a questionable alley shortcut. With her phone conveniently at 3%.

It was all part of the plan.

What wasn’t part of the plan was the sound of tires screeching way too close.

A reckless driver had hopped the curb just as y/n stepped off it—she froze. For real this time.

Before she could even blink, a blur of red and blue swung down and scooped her up bridal-style, soaring them both safely onto a nearby rooftop.

y/n’s arms are still wrapped tightly around Spiderwoman’s neck when she finally speaks.

“You came,” she whispers, wide-eyed and breathless for real this time.

Spiderwoman, trying to play it cool but visibly trembling, replies shakily, “Y-yeah, of course. You were—um—danger. Dangerous. In—no, wait. In danger.”

y/n doesn’t let go. In fact, she gets more comfortable, her voice going soft and sincere. “You’ve saved me so many times this week. I think it’s time I thanked you properly.”

Minjeong’s voice cracks through the mask. “Th-that’s not necessary! I-I mean, your safety is thanks enough—”

y/n leans in slowly, her fingers brushing the edge of the mask. “Just one kiss. For all the times you caught me.”

Before Minjeong can fully short-circuit, the girl in her arms lifts the mask just enough to reveal her lips—and kisses her.

It’s soft. Sure. But it sends Minjeong’s brain into a system reboot. Her hands, still holding y/n, stiffen like she’s forgotten how to human. Her knees buckle. Her heart stops.

And when y/n pulls back, grinning like the cat that caught the spider, she whispers right against Minjeong’s lips.

“Hi, Minjeong.”

Minjeong gasps. “W-WHAT?!”

“Told you I’d figure it out.”

Minjeong’s voice goes high-pitched. “You—You KISSED me to REVEAL ME?! That’s—that’s cheating! That’s emotional sabotage! That’s—”

y/n just laughs, cupping her cheek. “You looked cute in the suit. I had to know if you tasted sweet too.”

Minjeong genuinely collapsed.

-----

Two weeks had passed since The Rooftop Incident.

And Minjeong had not known peace.

Every time she turned a corner, y/n was there — smirking, tossing her hair, leaning against lockers like she was starring in her own rom-com, and absolutely thriving in the knowledge that she’d cracked the biggest secret in school. The one person who hadn’t been fooled? Of course, it was the girl who practically lived in Minjeong’s head.

Minjeong, meanwhile, had barely survived.

She had walked into four poles, missed two stair steps, and accidentally called her chemistry teacher “Your Majesty” once.

And now here they were, on the school rooftop again. This time, no mask, no excuses. Just them.

y/n sat with her legs dangling off the ledge, sipping from a strawberry juice box like she didn’t just alter the course of Minjeong’s entire life.

“So,” she said casually, “how does it feel to be exposed?”

Minjeong groaned beside her, flopping dramatically onto the concrete. “Humiliating. Debilitating. Traumatizing.”

y/n laughed. “You’re so dramatic. You got kissed by a pretty girl on a rooftop. That’s basically fanfiction-level romance.”

Minjeong covered her face with both hands. “You tricked me!”

“You kissed me back,” y/n shot back smugly.

“I panicked!”

“You cupped my waist.”

“…Nervous muscle memory!”

y/n leaned over her, face inches away, eyes soft now. “You can admit it, y’know. That you like me.”

Minjeong peeked through her fingers. “That obvious, huh?”

y/n nodded. “Like, painfully. I think even the pigeons knew.”

Minjeong sat up slowly, still pink from head to toe. “Fine. I like you. I’ve liked you forever. Since… before I even got bit, honestly. I was gonna tell you, eventually. Maybe. After graduation… or on my deathbed.”

y/n giggled, nudging her shoulder. “You’re lucky I like awkward nerds with superpowers.”

Minjeong blinked. “Wait—wait, you like me too?”

y/n scoffed. “What do you think the kissing was for? Science?”

“…That would’ve been less stressful, actually.”

y/n rolled her eyes affectionately and stood, dusting off her skirt. “Come on. Walk me home?”

Minjeong scrambled to her feet. “You want me to swing you?”

“Nope,” y/n said sweetly. “I want you to walk me. No suit. No excuses. Just my girlfriend.”

Minjeong choked. “Girlfriend?!”

y/n grinned, already heading for the stairs. “I kissed you as a thank you. You kissed me back. I’m just accepting your proposal.”

Minjeong stared after her, stunned. Then, with a dreamy little smile pulling at her lips, she jogged to catch up.

--

y/n leaned on the railing, watching the skyline, sipping another juice box. Behind her, a thump — the soft sound of someone landing.

“You’re late,” she said without turning.

Spiderwoman chuckled softly. “Some jerk locked himself out of his apartment five floors up. Had to help.”

y/n turned, arms crossed. “Mmm. Classic excuse. Got your priorities all out of whack.”

Spiderwoman stepped forward, mask half-off already. “But I made it, didn’t I?”

y/n softened instantly, walking up to her. “You always do.”

They stood there for a beat. Close, quiet.

y/n reached out, brushing a bit of hair from Minjeong’s face.

“You know,” she said softly, “I fell for both versions of you. The dork and the hero.”

Minjeong took her hand. “They’re the same girl, you know.”

“I know.” y/n smiled. “That’s why I’m keeping you.”

Minjeong leaned in, voice gentle. “Then I guess I’m yours.”

y/n pulled her close. “About time.”

--

One Week Later – Group Chat: [Jimin, Aeri, Yizhuo, y/n, Minjeong]

Jimin:

sooooo you two are finally official huh

Aeri:

thank god. i was about to lock you in a closet until you kissed

Yizhuo:

the lesbian rooftop superhero romance is real… we won

y/n:

you’re welcome for the entertainment

Minjeong:

I feel so attacked

y/n:

you’re dating me now. get used to it.

Minjeong:

…okay

Yizhuo:

…Minjeong get up

_____________________

Bonus:

Six months later...

The morning sun poured through the half-open blinds, casting streaks of golden light across the tangled sheets. In the middle of the bed, Minjeong lay on her stomach, one leg hanging off the side, her face buried into the pillow. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles — clearly a victim of the night’s tossing and turning.

On the other side, y/n sat cross-legged, fully awake, brushing her teeth with a lollipop in her mouth.

“Minjeong,” she said through the candy stick. “You’re going to be late.”

Minjeong groaned. “Spiderwoman doesn’t do mornings.”

y/n poked her. “Spiderwoman also has physics first period and a quiz on friction.”

“…Friction is my enemy.”

y/n’s eyes sparkled. “I dunno, you didn’t seem to hate friction last night when—”

Minjeong launched a pillow at her with deadly precision.

y/n collapsed into giggles, hands up in surrender.

Later, in the kitchen, Minjeong, finally upright and conscious, munched on toast while leaning heavily against the counter.

y/n was in front of her, poking through a box of labeled gadgets Minjeong had been tinkering with. “What’s this one do?”

“Glows in the dark. Kind of useless but cool.”

“And this?”

“Explodes glitter.”

Pause.

“…That one’s for emergencies only.”

y/n’s eyebrows wiggled. “Define emergency.”

Minjeong deadpanned, “If I ever forget your birthday.”

y/n smiled wide, leaning up to kiss her cheek. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Minjeong smiled down at her, eyes soft behind her glasses. “Lucky I’ve got you.”

--

Spiderwoman crouched on the edge of a building, surveying the city below.

Behind her, a voice crackled through her communicator. y/n’s voice.

“You know,” y/n said teasingly, “I think I liked you better when you were mysterious and broody. Now you’re just a soft little nerd with a grappling hook.”

Minjeong grinned under the mask. “You loved me when I was mysterious. You’re in love with me now.”

A pause.

Then her girlfriend replied, voice warm. “Yeah. I really am.”

Spiderwoman stood, wind brushing past her, and smiled out at the world.

She was awkward, nerdy, still tripped over her own feet half the time — but she was loved. Fully, completely, and fearlessly.

And with y/n in her corner?

She felt like she could do anything.

--

A Newscast Playing on a Shop Window:

“—and once again, Spiderwoman swooped in to stop a carjacking near the downtown plaza. Eyewitnesses say she seemed… embarrassed to take credit—”

y/n passed by the window, sipping her iced coffee, wearing Minjeong’s oversized hoodie. She glanced at the screen, smirked, and whispered to herself,

“Dork.”

Then she walked off down the street — texting one-handed.

y/n:

Miss you already.

Don’t fall off a roof.

I want cuddles when you’re back.

And my hoodie. Maybe.

Spiderwoman:

saving the world. brb.

but yes. cuddles.

and you can try to take the hoodie back.

____________________

A/N: Hi! I love these stories so much. Feel free to leave any requests, it'll take me forever, but I will write them eventually.

[imtryingbuck]

My Saviour

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Buckys just received some news from the love of his life.

Word count: 6,269

Warnings: angst. fluff. suicidal thoughts. Bucky’s past mentioned. insecurities. scars mentioned. Bucky being madly in love. reader being an angel. past cheating and domestic abuse. pregnancy (it’s me im sorry) me not knowing anything about courts/sentencing.

Translation: ты мой спаситель - you’re my saviour (if wrong take it up with google translation)

Masterlist

Bucky wished Steve was still around so he could talk to him about things. He wish that his best friend was still there to see the progress he was slowly making. Wished to know if his best friend was proud of him.

But most importantly he wished Steve chose to stay with him and Sam so he could have met the person who brought him back to life, who brought his long existence actual meaning other than jumping from fight to fight. He knew Steve would have loved her and probably would have thanked her for everything.

But sadly Steve went to live a different life without him so he had to deal with Sam all alone.

For a year after Steve left Bucky struggled to go out, he struggled to find his path in a world that he wasn’t suppose to be apart of. He should have died that day when he fell from the train.

His therapist tried to get him to go out into the world and meet people, Bucky would say ‘next time’ until Dr Raynor eventually gave up on trying.

For a whole year Bucky moved with the motion, just existing, alive and breathing but just barely holding on to that invisible thread.

That was until six years ago. Six years ago everything changed.

** six years ago **

“Buck please-“

“Don’t call me that! How many times do I have to tell you”

“Oh I’m sorry Sir Bucky! But like I said please just come with me? It would do you some good to get out of your apartment, wait Bucky are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m listening. I do get out-“

“To see your therapist and that’s it”

“I’m still going out aren’t I?” Bucky responds snappily, rolling his eyes as Sam groans through the speaker.

“Please Bucky, it’s just coffee!”

“God sake, okay. I’ll be there. Bye” He really didn’t want to go out and get a coffee with Sam but he ended agreeing knowing that he would not have stopped, probably even going as far as coming to his apartment just to drag him out of there. Since Steve left, poor Bucky had been left all alone on with Sam, okay it wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be but still he had been left with a man that annoyed him more than anything.

Groaning inwardly he slides his phone into his jeans front pocket before shoving his gloved hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, as he walked down the street he kept his head down so he didn’t make eye contact with anyone walking by. It was safer that way. For him and those around him.

“James Barnes” he spoke roughly to the receptionist who made a habit of always pushing her chest out so he could get an eye full of her cleavage.

“Take a seat” she responds batting her eyelashes with her chest pushed out. He thought after the tenth time of him rolling his eyes at her not so subtle attempt at flirting she would get the hint.

He was not interested.

“S-sorry is this seat taken?” A soft timid voice from a woman pulled Bucky out of his staring competition he was having with the fake plant by the water dispenser.

“Huh?”

“Is-is anyone sitting here?”

“No. No you can sit”

“T-thank you” Bucky smiled and nodded softly instantly curious as to why she was also seeing a therapist. Bucky found himself getting lost in the smell of her perfume, the sweet smell creeping up his nostrils and into his senses. His eyes focused on the slow motion of her leg closest to his bouncing in time with the ticking of the clock.

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“A-are you um are you J-James Barnes?”

Great just great. She knows who he is and from the way she stutters his name she clearly knows what he’s done and is scared of him. “Yes that’s me” he finally answers.

“Y-your names b-been called sir” she points over to where the receptionist is and sees her waiting for him to follow her down the hallway to Dr Raynors office.

Oh. Oh okay he got it wrong. “Oh, thank you”

“Y-your welcome sir”

Bucky offers her a small smile that she responds with the same and follows Lila down the corridor. He has no idea that the small smile he gave her meant a great deal to her. Nor does he know that she talks about him to her therapist that was two doors down from his.

Neither one realises that one small smile would make such a massive impact on their lives.

Over the course of four months, twice a week Bucky would see the woman whose name he had yet to know, every time they sat patiently in the waiting room they would find themselves sitting next to each other. Always quietly asking if the seat next to them was taken. Even if there were other available seats.

Dr Raynor had quite enjoyed hearing about the woman who seemed to have taken residence in Bucky’s mind. And Dr Harlow was proud of hearing that her patient was seeing someone new. She laughed when her patient blushed and began stumbling over her words that she was not seeing this man in that sense.

Bucky walked in to the waiting room expecting to find the woman whose presence he had become content being around only to frown at seeing the two seats that became unofficially theirs empty. The whole time he waited for her but she never showed. His name was called, as he followed Lila he kept turning his head back to the double doors in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of her. Walking into the room he frowned at seeing Dr Raynor and another woman sitting down. This was new.

“James, this is Dr Harlow.”

“Hi?”

“Hello James”

“What’s wrong? I didn’t do-“

“No, no James it’s… well you know the woman you’ve been telling me about?” Raynor cuts him off and waits for him to nod “well Dr Harlow is her therapist, Y/n was rushed in to the hospital early hours this morning-“

“Y/n? That’s her name? Wait… what happened to her? Is she okay? Where is-“

“James, she’s okay. We can’t disclose anything about what happened but-well you see Y/n has been talking about you in her sessions, nothing bad don’t worry, and you’ve been talking about her so we agreed that we should let you know”

Bucky sat there staring at his doctor as his mind raced with questions. She was in the hospital? Her name suited her perfectly. Why was she in the hospital? Who hurt her? She talked about him? ‘Nothing bad’ the good doctor stressed. Is she okay? “James?”

“Yeah erm, are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yes. We, well we talked to each other” Raynor points at between herself and Dr Harlow “and we think it would be a great opportunity for you to talk to her, maybe offer her some support-“

“Why me? Aren’t you two the therapists?”

“Yes we are but James I don’t think you realise how much those smiles and a few quiet words mean to Y/n. Nor she with you, now in my opinion I think it would be nice if the pair of you had someone to lean on when you don’t have a session.”

Thinking it over for a few minutes he nodded and agreed. Dr Harlow said Y/n had mentioned that she felt safe with him which made his heart race faster than usual at hearing that a complete stranger felt safe around him when he was so use to it being different. No one felt safe around him, hell he didn’t even feel safe with himself but yet she did. Not even ten seconds after the door closed behind Dr Harlow did Bucky start questioning his doctor about what had happened or where she was so he could go and see her, he just wanted to make sure she was fine but Raynor held strong and didn’t back down from the harsh glare he was sending towards her. She never did though to be honest.

Ten minutes later Dr Raynor thought it was best to cut their session short, though promised him that she would make out that they did the full hour.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks it had been since he was told that she was in the hospital and he hadn’t seen her. That day he thought it wouldn’t be any different to the other days where he expected to see her, until he turned his back on Lila who thankfully now took the hint that he wasn’t interested in her. His eyes squinted at seeing someone sitting in their seats.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked quietly, hoping that the woman in front of him would raise her head and smile as she said ‘no you can sit’. And when she did. Well… let’s just say that what he wanted to do to whoever had caused such pain and suffering to his Y/n he wouldn’t have pinned it on the Winter Soldier. No because Bucky Barnes would have happily admitted to shedding blood that wasn’t his own. Happily and proudly.

“N-no you can sit” she responds with that smile he sees when he closes his eyes at night.

“Doll-“ Lila cuts him off by calling his name signalling that it was his time, he nods at her then faces Y/n. “After your session I’m going to be waiting right here okay, and I want to take you for a coffee.”

“O-okay” Y/n says with a shy smile. Bucky smiles back before going up to Lila, eyebrows burrowing when she doesn’t lead him down the corridor. And that’s when it finally hits him. He had never seen her doing that to any of the other patients.

He tells Dr Raynor that Y/n was back, told her the bruises that littered her beautiful face, told her what he had said to her and her response. “Go easy on her James, don’t try and rush her into telling you all of her secrets okay” but in the same breath suggests a nice place for him to take her.

Forty five minutes after his appointment had ended he was now sat a cross the table from Y/n with a black coffee in front of him and a hot chocolate in front of her.

“You know what I’m going to ask you don’t you?” He says with a gentle smile, she nods. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fi-fine now sir”

“Bucky, call me Bucky. How long was you in the hospital for?”

“A few d-days, Dr Harlow told me that she told you what happened”

“Not exactly they just said that you was in the hospital, wanted me to know since you talk about me all the time” winking at her when she blushed.

“I-I d-don’t”

“All the time they said, said that your obsessed with me”

“Well y-you talk a-about me too!”

“Me? Never!” Bucky was ninety nine point nine percent sure that he had died right there and then and went to heaven when she laughed. He was sure of it. Her laugh could only described as angelic. God he wanted to hear it again and again until he dying breath.

“I-it was my ex” she whispered. She wasn’t stupid she knew what he wanted to ask.

“Where is he now?”

“Jail still, h-have to go court in-in two weeks. My lawyer said h-he’ll be going to prison for a long time, he broke the protection order an-and well this” she said gesturing to her face.

“You had a protection order against him?”

“Yes, throughout our relationship he was abusive the o-only way I managed to get out was because he had been cheating on me with a friend of mine, he left me a-and I was so happy because it meant that I didn’t have to suffer no more but the friend didn’t want him anymore because the fun of sneaking around had gone”. Taking a deep breath before sipping on her hot chocolate she continued. “He broke into my apartment and attacked me because I said no to taking him back, police was called by my neighbour and I got the restraining order against him because I could do that then, he went to prison and h-he got out three weeks ago, he broke into my apartment again and did this b-but the police arrived quickly as I already rang them”

“Doll… I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay. I’m okay now”

“It’s not okay Y/n”

“It is what it is, he’ll be going to prison for a long time and I’ll be able to live my life again.” She smiled.

“W-when is it that you have to go to court?”

“In two weeks, why?”

“Can I come with you? To offer my support” With her lack of response he knew he overstepped. Of course she isn’t going to want the former Winter Soldier to come with her to face another monster in her life. He’s about to apologise until she smiles once more and nods.

“I would really like that. Thank you Bucky” Bucky smiled and nodded.

Their second cup of hot drinks had slowly grown cold as the conversation flowed effortlessly between the pair. Bucky loved the way she no longer stuttered or stumbled over her words the longer they spoke. She was about to say something when a bang from the window startled the pair of them.

“Great.” He muttered.

“D-do you know him?”

“Who the crazy guy with his face squashed up against the window? Unfortunately” Y/n giggled at his words then looked at the man who did in fact have his face squashed up against the window, his eyes moving back and forth between herself and Bucky. Waving shyly at the man who waved excitedly back Bucky rolled his eyes. “You do realise you’ve just basically invited him in, don’t you? Oh see now he’s entering.”

“Stop being mean”

“Didn’t expect to see you here Barnes. Hi I’m Sam, Bucky’s best friend in the whole world”

“Hi Sam, I’m Y/n” she shakes his hand and smiles at Bucky who sits there rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Scoot over then Bucky. So how did you two meet?”

Bucky looked at Y/n to see if she was comfortable with letting him know, she just smiled. “We met in therapy”

“Oh, are you a therapist?”

“No, no I’m a patient”

“Does it help?”

“Sam!”

“What? I’m just asking”

Giggling at the two men “it’s fine Bucky, it has been helping. My therapist is really nice and understanding”

“That’s great. So did you two meet from group therapy or?”

“No we actually sat next to each other in the waiting room”

“Aw that’s so cute!” Sam winks at her whilst Bucky grumbled under his breath.

Sam ends up convincing Bucky and Y/n in getting something to eat not that he puts up to much of a fight as both of them were hungry themselves. Once again conversation flows effortlessly, even Bucky joined in with the laughter.

After food was eaten and an argument between the three about who was going to pay - Y/n winning when the two men were still arguing over the bill - they walked her all the way to her apartment. Bucky’s heart clenched painfully seeing her front door with dried blood on it. Sam noticed too and smiled sadly at his friend.

Two whole weeks passed, in those two weeks Sam kept “bumping” into the pair, the three of them would walk around talking about their lives, both of the men noticing that she was very vague about her life but neither one pushed her into saying more.

Today was the day where Y/n was going to court, as she stood outside she checked her watch worrying that Bucky wasn’t going to show up, not like he needed to he didn’t owe her anything anyway. She turned around to head up the many steps when her names called, turning she sees Bucky running over towards her. Sam following closely behind.

“Hey, hi, sorry we’re late I tried to shake this one off but he’s persist-“

“No it’s okay, I-I really appreciate the pair of you coming today. It means so much”

“You’re welcome sunshine, you’ve got our support” Sam smiles wrapping his arms around her squeezing slightly.

“Y/n? We need to go in” her lawyer says from the large brown double doors.

Sam nods to the pair and heads up the steps, Bucky smiled “me and Sam are here for you, it’s going to be okay”

“I’m scared about seeing him again b-but I-I can do it” Bucky’s hand reached out to hers that shook.

“I’ve got you, I promise”

“T-th-thank you Bucky”

Hand in hand they head up to where Sam was waiting patiently and followed the lawyers lead into the courtroom. Bucky’s knee wouldn’t stop bouncing from anger as Y/n bravely stood in the witness stand and gave her statement, hearing all the things that the bastard did to her made him want to attack him. Sam knew what was going through his friends head, honestly? He wasn’t going to be far behind him.

Three hours later her ex received a ten year sentence. Bucky watched as her body relaxes by hearing the judges words. He and Sam smiles at her when she turns around, her eyes moving along the rows to find where they sat, smiling as soon as she lands on them.

After leaving the courthouse Bucky took her hand in his again and the three of them went to the restaurant that Sam had suggested, in a way to celebrate Y/n’s new found freedom. Neither one of the men mentioned about what they heard or the photos they saw in the courtroom, other than telling her that they were proud of her bravery.

Six months had passed before any of them had realised, both of the therapists were proud of seeing completely different people sitting in front of them in their sessions. Bucky opened up more and so did Y/n, not only to their therapists but to each other.

The knock on the door pulled Bucky away from his bickering with Sam as his friend argued that pineapple on pizza was nice. “I’ll ask Y/n and see what she says! Hey doll”

“Hey, sorry I’m late”

“You’re not, don’t worry. Hey does pineapple belong on pizza?” He asked taking her coat and hanging it up on the hook.

“I’ve tried it and I like it” she waves to Sam.

“See! Sam I told you it was nice”

“But you said-“

“Shut up. Sam said that it was wrong but I said it was nice”

“No yo-“

“So how was your day?” Sam looked at Y/n mouthing ‘he’s lying’ making her giggle, she goes on to tell them all about her day which had Bucky hanging on to every word she spoke.

Halfway through the film Sam had picked Y/n went to the bathroom, Bucky eyed Sam curiously as the latter was sitting there grinning at him. “What?”

“Whens the wedding?”

“What wedding?”

“Yours and Y/ns”

“We’re not getting married? Why are you smiling like that?”

“If you say so, hey when are you going to tell her you love her?”

Choking on his beer Bucky shook his head “I don’t love her Sam”

“Okay, how about you telling her that you’re in love with her?”

“Sam shut up.”

“Nope. So when are you going to tell her?”

“I’m not going too alright. It’s just-it doesn’t matter alright just drop it”

“Drop what?” Y/n asked walking back into the living room.

“Pineapple being on pizza” Bucky says quickly his eyes going wide looking at Sam.

Laughing she shakes her head sitting back down next to Bucky “we’re not having this argument anymore boys”

“Try telling him that Y/n/n” now it’s Bucky’s turn to have a grin on his lips as Sam’s eyes squint at the pair.

“Sunshine has Bucky told you yet?”

“Told me what?”

“That he loves y-“

“Yogurts.”

“You… love yogurts?” She asked him with her eyebrow raised, Sam struggles to contain his laughter seeing Bucky become a stuttering mess.

“Yes… I love yogurts, problem?”

“Nope no problem here” If Y/n wasn’t snuggling into his left side Bucky would have throttled Sam.

The knock on her door startled her from the tv screen in front of her - it didn’t help that she was watching a horror and that a jump scare was about to happen when the knock came.

“Bucky? Hey, are you okay?”

“I-I was just in the neigh-neighbourhood a-and I thought that I’d st-stop by”

“Yeah come in, James is everything alright?”

“Yeah, w-why?”

“It’s just that you’re stuttering… and I’m just worried that’s all”

“S-someone said something about me, it-it wasn’t good” he admitted twisting the bottle cap from the water bottle she had gave him.

“What did they say?”

“It doesn’t matter, I-I just wanted to see you-you know because I was in the neighbourhood”

The truth was he wasn’t, he had finally listened to Dr Raynors advice and go out. His plan was to go down the corner store to get some essentials in. Get in, get out that was easy and simple. He could do it. Until he heard two men who were talking clearly and loudly about him their conversation attracting the attention of others passing by them. And that’s when he realised his second mistake that day, the first mistake being to agree to go out, the second being that he forgot his gloves. The comments were harsh and unkind.

His first response was to put his head down shoving his hands into his pockets and walk all the way to Y/n’s apartment. Even if it was a forty minute walk.

Bucky needed to see her, he didn’t care if they sat in silence just as long as he was with her, he didn’t care if she forced him to watch that terrible tv show.

“Come on let’s watch something and have cuddles”

He was safe with her. Calmer. Happier. More comfortable and relaxed.

“Have you asked her?”

“No Samuel I haven’t”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t seen her today”

“Why?”

“Because she had her session with Dr Harlow”

“Why?”

“Sam, I’m going to punch you in the face”

“Wh-“

Bucky rolled his eyes and put the phone call down. He couldn’t bear to hear why one more time. He was too busy going over what he was going to ask Y/n, so many things could go wrong she could say no, it would be weird as they’ve only known each other for a year now. She’s going to say no. Of course she is. He can’t ask, he just ca-

“Buck? Open up my arms hurt”

Buck. Buck, the name Sam was not happy about hearing slipping out of her mouth. He had tried years to call him that but always got shot down. It wasn’t fair.

“Buck? Shit are you not in?”

“No! No I’m in doll, hi, hello, hi”

“Hi, hello, hi to you too” Bucky laughs taking the bags off her arms carefully, then takes them into the kitchen. A month ago Y/n moved in to his apartment with him after the landlord put up the rent making her struggle to keep paying the higher rent, Bucky caught her looking for a new place to live when he suggested her living with him, she first denied but Bucky swore and promised that he was more than happy to let her stay with him, she ended up agreeing, Bucky could have cried with happiness all night but managed to contain himself.

“Did you get everything?”

“Nope, forgot absolutely everything you asked for” sticking her tongue out at him, he laughed.

God he loves her weirdness.

“So I- god sake Sam, hold on pretty girl. What now Sam? No I haven’t. Because she’s just walked in. You’re so needy do you know that? Okay I’ll ask now. Yes I’ll do it whilst you’re on the phone. Y/n, do you want to come to Louisiana with Sam and I?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we’re going for a week to see his sister and nephews and we want you to come too”

“Will his sister mind me being there?”

“No. So?”

“Are you guys really sure?”

“Absolutely”

“O-okay, that would be nice”

His smile doesn’t just take up his face but Sam’s as well “good, good. Did you hear Sam? Okay see you later” chucking his phone on to the counter he turns back to Y/n. “We leave tomorrow”

“Tomorrow? Oh god okay, I’ll go and pack now”

Two days later they arrive in Louisiana after both men took it in turns to drive, it was long and tiring for them but Y/n loved it. She had never been out of New York before so she was taking in the sights. When Bucky wasn’t driving he would watch her from his seat, seeing her face lit up made his heart tingle.

“Are you sure she won’t mind me being here?”

“I promise, she’s excited to meet you” Sam reassures her as he pulls up the gravelled driveway.

Greeting his sister and nephews, Bucky doing the same Sarah turned her attention to Y/n instantly engulfing her in a warm embrace. “It’s so nice to finally meet you”

“You too” she smiled softly.

Later that night after putting their things away they all sat outside watching as the sun started to set, Sam was manning the grill and Bucky were chasing the two boys around making them squeal with laughter and excitement. Sarah and Y/n were talking when Sarah asked the woman sitting in front of her something that made her choke and splutter on her drink.

“W-we aren’t to-together”

“Are you sure? The way he looks at you makes me think differently”

“No, no we’re just friends. Plus he wouldn’t like me so”

“Do you like him?”

“I-yes. But I would rather have him as my friend than not have him in my life”

“Tell him how you feel”

“No I can’t do that!”

“You can”

“No I can’t”

“Can’t what?” Bucky’s voice comes from behind her. Sarah has to stifle her laughter as Y/ns eyes went as wide as saucers.

“I-erm nothing.”

“Okay? Hey there’s a crab down on the beach that the boys have found, want to come and see it?”

“O-okay” Bucky smiles and holds out his hand for her to take, helping her stand he keeps his hand in hers as they walk towards the two boys.

“Is she in love with him?”

“I think so, hopefully they’ll admit their feelings because they’re so cute together” Sarah says with her eyes trained on the two fading figures, Sam smirks before flipping the burgers.

Later that night Y/n got startled when she went into the bathroom seeing Bucky standing motionless in front of the mirror. “Shit! Bucky you scared- hey are you okay?”

“I-I’m fi-I’m not okay Y/n/n” Y/n moved so quickly wrapping her arms around him, both falling on the ground.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” the sobs wracked through his body making her body shake. She kept repeating those words like a mantra.

“M-my hair”

“Your hair? What about it?”

“I-I want it gone, please, please help me g-get rid of it”

Her heart broke at hearing him sounding so small, in the whole year of knowing him he had always sounded so strong, and confident. Also she loved his hair and they both knew it, on nights where they cuddled up together on the couch watching movies her fingers would always end up playing with the soft strands of hair.

“A-are you sure?” feeling him nodding against her chest “okay, let me find some scissors and a clipper and I’ll do it for you okay?” Trying to stand was difficult especially since having a super soldier clinging to her. “Buck, I need to stand”

Finding the scissors was easy, it was just finding the clippers she had a difficult time coming up on. Cheering silently in triumph when she discovered them in the fourth draw. “Should we go outside so we don’t wake everyone up?”

“O-okay. Leave the light on Cass is scared of the dark, Sarah leaves the bathroom light on for him” Bucky whispered wrapping both of his hands around her free one.

Outside with only the porch light illuminating them, Y/n started cutting his hair the shorter it got the more Bucky started to relax. When it came to trimming his hair Bucky’s left arm reached around to tug on her waist, bringing her around to stand in between his legs, he smiled shyly up at her. Without thinking she leaned down as she placed her lips to his forehead. His arms snaked around the back of her legs squeezing lightly.

“I-it’s done, maybe Sam can fix it up later if it’s bad?”

“I bet y-you did a good job”

“Would you be mad if I said you had a massive bald spot right on the top of your head?”

He laughed and shook his head “no I won’t be mad”

“It’s a good job that there isn’t one isn’t there?”

“Y/n, thank you, i-it means a lot to me. Thank you”

“You don’t need to thank me. D-do you want to talk about what happened?”

“It was a nightmare. Just about my past” leading her over to the hammock on that swayed ever so lightly from the night breeze. “T-they did bad things to me, made me do worse”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it” she says squeezing his hand.

“They made me kill people, even when I completed the mission to their satisfaction they would still punish me and I never knew why. The chair was the worst, I-I did what I was told to do and I was still punished.”

Looking at the water he breathed deeply, he was about to tell her something to no one else knew, not even his therapist. “I-I’ve wanted to end my life since coming back from Wakanda b-b-but not since I met you I swear!”

“Oh Buck”

“It was easier to end it you know? But I couldn’t do it, I needed to try and make up for all the damage I caused.”

“Bucky it was-“

“It was though, wasn’t it? It was me the whole time”

“It wasn’t. Bucky you wasn’t in control of your own mind, your a good man, an incredible man - don’t scoff at me mister - you are, if you don’t believe me think about Sarah, even though I don’t know her all that well she seems to have a good sense of judgement, do you really think that she would let you be around her babies if she thought you was a bad person?”

Thinking her words over he had to agree with her words about Sarah even Sam wouldn’t let him anywhere near his sister and his nephews. Hell Tony wouldn’t have allowed him near his wife or daughter if they believed he was the monster that he still believed he was. “Y-you’re right”

Now it was her turn to think over the words from Sarah earlier that night. It was most likely going to blow up in her face and she was going to lose him as a friend forever but maybe just maybe Sarah could be right. “I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if you were a bad person Buck”

The silence that followed was killing her. She should have just kept her mouth shut.

He however couldn’t believe his ears. Surely she was playing a trick on him. There was no way this perfect angel as he always described her would ever feel the same way as him. Surely.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I-I’ll go n-“

He cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, timid at first before they both gained their confidence their tongues dancing a slow dance together. Pulling away reluctantly Bucky leans his forehead against hers, both smiling widely at each other.

“I’m in love with you too” he whispered.

Nothing else was said. Nothing else was needed to be said.

Sam walks on to the porch with his hot cup of coffee that morning, his feet faltering when he sees Bucky and Y/n curled up together on the hammock fast asleep. Pulling his phone out he took a photo of the pair before running back into the house showing Sarah the photo.

As soon as they were back in New York Bucky asked Y/n out on a date, then another and another until he asked her to be his girlfriend. And soon enough she had moved into his room with him.

The first time she saw him topless was when he came out of the bathroom wearing grey joggers, he thought she was still in the living room. He heard the quiet gasp, he looked up to see her standing there and his stomach dropped.

“Y/n-“

“Your body… did the gods sculpt you? I-is that, two, four, six yep that’s an eight pack, how do you get an eight pack?”

Hearing her words he blushed with a little chuckle. “T-the scars-“

“Beautiful”

“Don’t lie to me”

“I would never lie to you Buck, everything about you is beautiful”

That night they made love for the first time, each of them taking their time in admiring the scars that littered their bodies. The second she pressed her lips delicately against the rough, raised patch where skin meets metal he honestly thought his heart was going to stop beating.

“ты мой спаситель, did you know that?” he whispered one night placing kisses on her bare shoulder.

“What does that mean?”

“ты мой спаситель?”

“Yeah”

“It means… your smelly”

“No it doesn’t” she laughs.

“No your right, it means you’re my saviour”

“Buck-“

“You are Y/n/n, you’ve saved me you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been before a-and I know I wouldn’t still be here if it wasn’t for you”

“I’ll be with you until you want me to leave”

“So never” he laughed, pulling her body even closer to his. “I love you Y/n/n”

“I love you too Buck”

Bucky wished Steve was still around so he could talk to him about things. He wish that his best friend was still there so he could tell the blond about how nervous he was. He imagined Steve’s reaction as he fixed his tie for the ninth time within five minutes.

A year had passed, on their year anniversary Bucky got down on one knee and proposed, three months later he was standing in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house in his suit as Sarah helped Y/n with her dress.

He really wished Steve was there to see him marrying his love.

A month before marrying both Sam and Bucky retired, both men tired of the bloodshed and nightmares. Sam told Bucky that he was going to move down to Louisiana, he even brought up a business proposal, Bucky had to admit it did sound tempting he promised Sam that he would run it by Y/n.

“Sam’s moving closer to Sarah, you know now that we’ve retired.”

“Oh, right”

“He erm he brought up a proposal to go into business together-“

“Did you say yes? Please tell me you said yes!”

“Why? Do you want to move to Louisiana?”

“Yes! I mean I knew Sam was going to move back there so I may or may not have been looking at houses down there…”

Sam cheered loudly down the phone when Bucky rang him to tell him that they were coming too.

“You ready Bucky?” Sam asked popping his head around the door.

“Yeah, yeah I’m ready”

Bucky faltered walking out of the house only expecting to see AJ, Cass and Roy - the man who was going to be marrying them - but yet all the people Y/n and himself had befriended over the two years they had been going to Louisiana, had showed up to watch them become one.

Being announced as husband and wife had their hearts doing a double take. They were married and neither one could believe it. And neither one could wipe the smile off their faces.

“ты мой спаситель… wait did I pronounce any of that right?” She panicked as they slow danced to the live music from a local band.

“Di-did you learn that just for me?”

“Yes” she giggled “so did I say it correctly?”

“Yes you did мой спаситель”

The celebration went on well into the night.

** present time **

“Buck?”

“Huh?”

“Did you just hear what I said?” Y/n looks up at him lightly nibbling on her bottom lip looking nervously.

Of course he had heard the words that came out of her mouth but those exact words made him think about how they met, and how far they both had come from being complete strangers who met in the waiting room of their therapist building to now being a happily married couple whose love continued to grow as the days passed.

“I did, but tell me again, please”

Oh how he can’t wait to tell his best friend Sam the news he had just received.

Taking his hands in hers she placed them on her still flat stomach and smiled.

“You’re going to be a dad.”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[inseobts]

Law x reader but it's angst and both of them didn't have a happy ending please ☹️. It'll start where the reader obsess over Law for months and he doesn't give a damn about y/n. He'll continue acting cold and harsh towards her. And then overtime Law slowly develops feelings for her but it's too late because y/n decided to leave the crew. The ending goes like ".... as I watch her disappear from the crowd. if only she'd known that, I... loved her." (I swear it sounds better in my head)

or instead of leaving the crew, Penguin was always there for her and y/n slowly falls for him and then Law gets jealous and knows that he doesn't have a chance with y/n anymore. He's guilty for not appreciating y/n all those months.

Idk anymore 😞.

That's all, bye:>

If Only She Knew

law × reader

a/n: omg I love angst so much akswk thanks for the request eheh

words count: 2.2k

tags: angst

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“Captain! I made you some tea.”

The moment the words leave your lips, you already know how this will end.

Trafalgar Law doesn’t even look up from the map sprawled across his desk. His fingers tap against the parchment absentmindedly, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Leave it” he mutters, eyes scanning the paper.

You hesitate “But you haven’t eaten anything all day—”

“I said leave it, Y/N.” His tone is sharp, edged with irritation. His golden eyes flicker toward you, cold and dismissive “Stop wasting your time.”

Your breath catches for just a second before you force a small smile “Right… Sorry, Captain.”

You place the cup on his desk anyway before turning to leave, your hands curling into fists. You tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, this time he’ll take a sip.

But as you step out onto the deck, you already know he won’t.

“Still chasing after the captain, huh?”

Shachi’s voice startles you from your thoughts as you lean against the railing, staring at the open sea. He and Penguin stand beside you, both wearing matching smirks, though there’s something sympathetic in their eyes.

“I’m not chasing him” you mumble, kicking at the wooden deck.

Penguin snorts “Right. You just happen to bring him tea every day, patch him up first after every fight, and stare at him when you think no one’s looking.”

Heat rushes to your face “I don’t stare at him.”

Shachi grins “Yeah? Anyway what were you just doing in his office?”

You look away, biting your lip. You don’t need to answer. They already know.

Everyone does.

The entire crew has seen how much effort you put into Law, how you linger in his presence, how you always try to ease his burdens, how you’d do anything just to get a sliver of warmth from him.

And they’ve seen how he never gives you anything in return.

“He’s never going to change, you know,” Penguin says, quieter this time “Law’s… Law. He’s not the kind of guy to let people in.”

“I know.” You exhale, trying to ignore the ache in your chest “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.”

Shachi sighs, exchanging a look with Penguin, but neither of them argue. What’s the point?

That night, you find yourself outside Law’s office again, a plate of food in your hands. The lamp inside is still lit, and you can hear the faint scratching of his pen against paper.

You hesitate before knocking “Captain?”

There’s no response.

You take a deep breath before pushing the door open just enough to peek inside. As expected, he’s still at his desk, completely absorbed in whatever he’s writing. His brows are furrowed, dark circles prominent under his eyes.

He looks exhausted.

“You should eat something,” you say softly, stepping inside “You’ve been working all day.”

Law sighs heavily, rubbing his temples “I don’t have time for this.”

“You have time to starve?” You set the plate down beside him, crossing your arms “At least take a break.”

He finally looks at you then, and for a second, you think he might actually listen. But instead, his gaze hardens.

“You don’t need to take care of me, Y/N.”

Your heart sinks.

“I want to...” you whisper.

Law pushes the plate away without another word. And just like that, you’re dismissed.

You don’t sleep that night. Instead, you stare at the ceiling of your cabin, the weight of reality pressing down on you.

No matter what you do, how much you try... he will never see you the way you want him to.

And maybe it’s time to stop hoping he will.

Days pass. Then weeks.

Nothing changes.

Law remains the same... distant, cold, utterly indifferent to your presence. No matter how many times you try to reach him, he never lets you in.

At first, it hurt, but now, it’s exhausting.

“You should stop, I'm saying this for your own good y/n” Bepo says one evening as you sit on the deck, staring at the horizon.

“Stop what?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Bepo sighs, settling beside you “You know what. The captain… he isn’t good at showing how he feels.”

You let out a dry laugh “That’s assuming he feels anything at all.”

“He does,” Bepo insists “He’s just… complicated.”

Complicated. That’s one way to put it.

But after months of being ignored, pushed away, and dismissed, you’re tired of making excuses for him.

“You know what? You're right. Trafalgar Law doesn’t care about me,” you say quietly “and I think it’s time I stop caring about him, too.”

The words taste bitter, but the moment they leave your lips, something inside you shifts.

Maybe this is what acceptance feels like.

Maybe this is freedom.

Law notices it before anyone else.

It’s subtle at first, the way you stop lingering in his office, the way you no longer bring him tea or remind him to rest.

Then, it becomes impossible to ignore.

“You’ve been acting different lately,” Shachi comments one afternoon “Not that I’m complaining, but you’re not hovering around the captain anymore.”

You shrug “Got tired of it.”

Penguin raises a brow “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

It’s a lie, of course.

It wasn’t easy. It still isn’t. But you’ve spent too much time chasing after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

And you refuse to keep running after a lost cause.

Law watches from the upper deck as you laugh with the others, a sight that should be normal, except it isn’t.

Because for the first time in months, you look… light. Unburdened. And you’re not looking for him, you're not looking at him.

Something about that unsettles him, but he shoves the feeling down.

It shouldn’t matter and it doesn’t matter.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

But when he finds himself missing the way you used to call his name, the way you always made sure he ate, the way you cared—

He realizes, too late, that maybe it does matter.

“You seem happier these days” Bepo comments one evening as you sit together.

You hum in response, resting your chin on your knees “More than happier I think I feel lighter...”

It’s not entirely true. A part of you still aches when you think about Law, when you remember all the time and love you wasted on someone who never gave anything back.

But at the very least, you’re not waiting for something that will never come.

And that’s enough.

Or so you tell yourself.

Law watches you from afar, as always, something unfamiliar twisting in his chest.

For months, you were always there, persistent, unwavering. You never gave up on him, no matter how many times he pushed you away.

And yet, now that you’ve stopped trying…

He finds himself wishing you hadn’t. But it’s too late.

“You’re really leaving?”

Bepo’s voice is thick with sadness as he watches you pack your things. His ears droop, his large paws clenching at his sides.

You force a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes “Yeah. I think it’s time.”

The words feel foreign, even as you say them. You’ve been on this ship for so long, pouring your heart into someone who never wanted it. But now, for the first time, you’re choosing yourself.

“You don’t have to go,” Bepo says desperately “The crew loves you. I love you.”

Your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his voice, but you shake your head “I know, Bepo. And I love you guys, too. But… staying here will only hurt me more. I'll never be truly happy here.”

He doesn’t argue. He knows you’re right.

Shachi and Penguin stand in the doorway, silent for once. Their usual teasing is gone, replaced by something heavier.

“You deserve better” Shachi finally says.

You smile, though it trembles at the edges “Yeah. I think so, too.”

The crew gathers at the dock the next morning, the air thick with unspoken emotions.

You exhale, adjusting the strap of your bag “Take care of yourselves, alright?”

Bepo sniffs, pulling you into a crushing hug “Come visit us someday.”

You hesitate before nodding “Yeah… Maybe.”

Everyone is there. Everyone except a certain someone.

You say nothing to Law about your leaving and you made the crew promise they wouldn't tell him neither.

You keep your plans quiet, your thoughts heavier than usual. There’s no need for a grand goodbye, he won’t notice anyway. So, instead, you quietly gather your things, packing only what’s essential, leaving behind the small mementos of a life you’re trying to forget.

The others know. Bepo, Shachi, Penguin—they’ve all seen the way things have shifted, the way you’ve slowly withdrawn over the past few weeks. They know why you’re leaving, even if they wish you didn’t.

You make your rounds, saying goodbye to each one of them.

“Bepo…” you pause as he wraps his arms around you, his voice thick with emotion “Are you sure about this?”

“I have to be,” you say softly, pressing your cheek against his fur “I’ve given up too much of myself already.”

He squeezes you tighter, his breath shaky “You’ll always have a place here with us.”

You pull away, offering him a watery smile “I know. I’ll miss you guys.”

Shachi claps you on the back with his usual grin, but it’s tempered with sadness “You’ll be fine out there, Y/N. You always manage to land on your feet.”

“I’m not sure about that” you reply softly, but you appreciate the sentiment.

Penguin gives you a quiet nod, his usual teasing grin gone “Good luck.”. Actually he's using his at to hide his tears.

It’s not the kind of goodbye you expected when you first joined the crew, but it’s the one you’ve come to accept. They know, and they understand.

But then you turn to face the ship.

Law has been absent for most of the morning, as he usually is, buried in his work. His door is closed, but you know he’s there, just like always. You don’t go near his office.

You make sure to leave your things in a small pile in the corner of the deck, making it look like nothing out of the ordinary. You pick up your bag one last time, glancing back at the crew as they quietly wish you well.

And then you leave without a word.

No one stops you.

Law doesn’t know.

He walks onto the deck just as the crew is finishing their work, wiping his hands on his coat as he steps toward his office. He’s tired, his head still pounding from the hours of paperwork he’s been handling.

But something catches his attention.

A folded piece of paper sits on his desk, placed neatly in the center of it. He blinks at it for a moment, confused. Who left this?

He walks over, picking it up with a frown. His gaze flickers over the familiar handwriting—Y/N’s handwriting.

For a moment, he hesitates. But then, he unfolds the letter, eager to read whatever you’ve written.

He doesn’t expect what’s inside.

Law,

I can’t keep doing this. I’ve tried for months to ignore it, but I’ve come to realize that you’ll never feel the same as me. I’m tired of waiting for something that will never come. I can’t keep living in the hope that one day, you’ll notice me the way I’ve always noticed you. I do accept rejection tho, I just think it's too hard for me to stay and pretend I feel happy like this.

I’m leaving the crew, and I don’t think I’ll be back.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His mind races, unable to comprehend what he’s just read. You… you’re leaving?

He stands frozen for a few seconds, his hands shaking slightly as he grips the letter. Why didn’t you tell me?

He rushes out the door, heading for the deck, his heart pounding in his chest.

He doesn’t see you.

He runs to the edge of the ship, scanning the horizon frantically, his breath catching in his throat.

“Y/N!?”

But there’s no response. No sign of you. Only the distant sound of the waves crashing against the ship, the wind whipping through the air.

“She just left” Bepo says looking like he just stopped crying and then he point over the crowd “Please stop hurting her, Captain”

He grits his teeth, his chest tight with a strange mix of panic and regret.

I’m sorry if I ever seemed too pushy for your liking, I was just trying to help you. I never meant to hurt you or annoy you.

I had a good time with the rest of the crew but my feelings can’t be ignored anymore.

This is something I need to do for myself. Maybe it’s selfish but for once I want to put you second and protect myself.

I loved you.

Goodbye,

Y/N

—

—

I loved you.

I loved you.

And now you’re gone.

As he watches you slowly disappear in the crowd he whispers so that only himself could hear “… if only she’d known that I loved her.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Damaged

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After a bad evening with your parents, Tim Bradford reminds you that you aren't damaged, and if your family won't be there for you, he will.

Warnings: abuse (emotional, verbal, and physical), 3rd party alcohol consumption, fluff and comfort, protective!Tim, platonic leading toward romantic

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Slacking off?” Tim asks. “A little early for civvies.”

You look up quickly, surprised by his presence outside the locker room. “I’m leaving early,” you explain weakly.

“I remember,” he replies, observing you. “Dinner with your parents.”

“Right.”

“Enjoy.”

Dropping your eyes to his boots, you nod and answer, “I will. Bye.”

Tim watches you go, wondering why dinner with your parents puts you on edge. Every time you mention them, your eyes shift, you grow nervous and jumpy, and the strong, confident cop he knows retreats into the shell of a scared woman. It’s a change he recognizes, one he understands, and he knows you lied when you said you’d enjoy yourself.

“You know what I think?” your dad asks.

You’re going to tell me no matter what, you think.

“Your job is bad enough,” he says, interrupting himself to take a drink. “But you could at least dress like a woman while you’re off the clock.”

Glancing down at your outfit, you try not to let his words affect you. Your parents have been like this for your entire life. Some might call it verbal abuse, while others consider it an absence of a filter. Regardless, your parents have never hesitated to point out your every insecurity. The worst part of seeing them, you think, is that they see your scars and rip those old wounds open again, tearing you down with every word they speak.

“Can you afford some new clothes?” your mother asks. “Maybe then you could find a man who’d give you a second thought.”

Chewing your inner lip, you nod silently. You feel like you’re twelve years old again, too big for the frame they try to shove you into. It’s been years since you gave up on trying to please them, but it doesn’t take away the pain.

“Although,” your dad continues, “who would want to start a family with a beat cop who could get shot at any moment?”

“Beat cops are a real family,” you mumble under your breath, fiddling with the napkin in your lap.

You don’t see your mom move, but the sharp slap sound of her palm hitting your face startles you enough that you finally look her in the eye. Your hand raises to your stinging cheek without thought. You know it won’t bruise, and something deep inside you tells you to stand up for yourself, to leave, and never look back.

“I’m getting another drink,” your dad states, stumbling slightly as he stands.

You’ve been in this exact spot too many times, you realize. So, you decide to play the part until they’re ready to leave. Sitting still, you listen, nod, and apologize as you hold back the tears threatening to spill.

“Look at the time,” your mom mutters after you serve dessert.

“And we have people who give a crap about where we are,” your dad adds, laughing at you. “We better head out. Next time we do this, don’t make the- the food like that and buy more drinks.”

“Will do,” you answer, standing.

“That didn’t sound like an apology,” your mother patronizes.

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “I’ll do better next time.”

“That means we have to come back,” your dad grumbles.

Not if we can help it, you think.

“Sweetheart,” your mother says, wrapping her hand around your wrist. Her nails dig into the sensitive skin above your pulse point, but you level your expression. “You need to try harder.”

“Sure. I will.”

She releases your hand, but your dad takes it just as quickly, his grip tighter and stronger than hers. You pull back instinctively, and he raises his other hand. When you cower away from him, dropping your chin, he laughs and twists the skin of your arm harshly.

“Better food,” he seethes. “Better news. If we come over here again and you’re still a disappointment… Just don’t.”

“Yes, sir,” you force out.

You stand in place, staring at the dirty dishes on your table as the door slams behind them. Alone, you stumble backward until you hit the wall, your vision growing blurry with tears. Sinking to the floor, you let yourself cry, and within a minute, heavy sobs shake your entire body. You feel paralyzed, your mind viciously reminding you that you and your parents are on a crashing course that only worsens with time.

But, you remember, they are your parents. They loved you at some point, but it’s always been like this. Maybe you are the problem, a voice you don’t recognize says in your mind.

You want to forget tonight, forget the pain in your chest and along your skin, so you reach for your phone. You’re texting Tim before you think about it. You don’t know what to say, but you’re desperate. Anything would be a welcome distraction, so you ask if he’s busy.

It changes from Delivered to Read, but he doesn’t reply. So, you toss your phone aside and pull your knees to your chest, curling in on yourself as if it will make the world disappear. 

A knock on your front door pulls you out of your teary reverie that is on the constant brink of returning to the nightmare of reality. Walking to the door, you hope that it isn’t your parents. You look through the peephole before you open the door, sure your surprise is evident.

“What happened?” Tim asks, his face softening when he sees your tear-stained face and red cheek.

You shake your head as you step back, and Tim follows you inside, closing the door softly.

“Did your parents come over?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer, laughing humorlessly. “They were here.”

“Hey,” Tim says. You hold the back of your chair and stare at the table again. “Hey,” he repeats firmly. “Look at me.”

You turn your chin toward him, your eyes glassy and your skin blotchy.

“You’re okay,” he promises, spreading his hands with his palms toward you. “Whatever they said, whatever they made you believe, it’s a lie. Your parents are… they’re abusive.”

“They just-”

“Crossed a line,” Tim interrupts. “I see it every time you mention them. I don’t know what they said or did, but if it brought you here, they are the problem. Not you.”

You rub your chest, failing to lessen the pressure there before Tim steps toward you. When you don’t stop him, he lays his hand on your shoulder.

“What if they’re right?” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

Tim looks between your eyes, then says, “What if my dad was right?”

Your eyes clear as you look at Tim. His question, his vulnerability, brings you back into this moment. Tim is here because he saw something in you. Despite his gruff exterior, he cares about you. And now he’s sharing something about himself to help you. To save you.

“My dad was abusive,” he says. “He shoved my head through plaster, yelled at me, belittled me, made me doubt myself and all that I could do. You? You’re stronger than you think, stronger than your parents make you feel. You are not what or who they say.”

“Then why am I like this?” you wonder.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Tim repeats, his thumb brushing kindly, comfortingly over your shoulder.

“They…” you begin. “Their voices are in my head constantly, and it’s so loud.”

“They talk with razors on their tongue just to provoke your combat, use new weapons to snap those final strings just to watch you fall back,” Tim replies. “I get it. Their voices, their lies, they follow you everywhere because they’ve ingrained them into you.”

“How do you do it?” you ask, wiping the tears from your face. “How do you do everything that you do, and do it well and confidently, after going through it?”

“You know who you are and what you can do. Place your confidence and your belief in that, not the words they yell trying to make themselves feel like they’re better than you.”

“I don’t think I can do that, Tim,” you argue, shaking your head as you sink into your chair.

“Then shut them up, drown them out, listen to me,” Tim encourages, moving with you. “Whatever it takes.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy. I’m not as strong as you Tim.”

“You’re stronger,” he insists. “And I’m here for you. You’re not alone, okay?”

You nod, willing yourself to believe him. Tim takes your hand, and when your sleeve shifts, he sees the bruise forming around your wrist. Without hesitation, he pushes the fabric up to your elbow, revealing the darkening patch and angry red scratch marks.

“They touched you?” he asks, his voice different than before as he stares at your arm.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Was it the first time?”

“I…”

Tim releases your hand as he stands. Your unwillingness to answer was better confirmation than he would have received if you had said yes. Tim moves toward the door, on his way to leaving you alone. Again.

“Tim,” you call, your voice strained as tears well in your eyes once more. 

He slows, his hand on the doorknob. “They touched you.”

“Please,” you plead.

“I can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Tim, please don’t leave me,” you whisper, fresh tears running down your face, the salt stinging your raw skin.

He sighs, turning toward you. As he returns to your side, he makes a promise to himself. No one will ever hurt you like this again. He let his dad impact his life for years after he moved away from home. When his dad got sick, it felt as if a strong current was pulling him into the nightmare his dad created all over again. If your parents are so willing to take you for granted, to hurt you, then Tim Bradford will be at your side to stop them from damaging you.

You’re not alone. As long as Tim is breathing, you never will be.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 12

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, drinking, sexual content (smut), paige being down so bad, incredibly long and dialogue heavy Wordcount: 8.9K A/C: this is dedicated to that anon saying they're sick, i hope you feel better!! also this is so dialogue heavy i'm sorry if it's not that fun to read and idk how this turned out so long but here we are!! hope everyone is well as always leave me thoughts in my inbox i love that shit!! okay bye <33

-

Before London

“Kiran! Kiran!” My screams echo around the airport as I run towards my brother, without a care in the world of how it might look to other people. I approach him fast, able to recognise the goofy smile and his tired eyes any time any place. Thankfully I wore sandals today, I wouldn’t have been able to run like this in heels

“You’re a lunatic,” he laughs as I crash into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. Kiran’s comforting hand rubs my upper back. I loved Dallas, I loved my job, the people here were amazing. But one thing was missing, and that was my brother. I wasn’t used to being apart from him for so long. I had been his protector, his best friend the second he was born - not that he had much say in the matter.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe you’re here!” I gleam out of breath, pulling back and looking at that familiar face staring back at me, features similar to mine yet sharper, broader. Kiran looks around us slightly embarrassed, some of the surrounding people staring with warm smiles.

“Relax Izzie you’re causing a scene,” he whispers, but I don’t care, too giddy to be close to my baby brother again. I bounce up and down, giggling and squealing with excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re hereeee,” I sigh in a sing-songy voice, looking at my brother whose green eyes stare into my face.

“Hollup,” he grins and pulls back, looking at my feet. “You’re wearing… flats?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s early, couldn’t be bothered with heels.”

“And you haven’t done your hair?”

My brows furrow in annoyance, and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m trying to avoid using heat on it, why are you nagging like mum?”

“Why are you getting offended? It’s just unlike you.”

So like us to get into an argument the first minute of seeing each other.

“If I wanted to be criticised I would’ve bought a ticket back to London.” I scoff, looking everywhere but my brother to let him know I’m unhappy with him. He takes a deep sigh in frustration before calming himself down.

“Alright, time out,” he groans, knowing he would never win. He knew I always had to have the last word. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s just not like you Iz.”

I suppose he was right. In the past two months I had grown much more relaxed, sure I was still uptight but for some reason everything just seemed easier, lighter. Like I didn’t have to be so high strung constantly. I didn’t always have to be in control. That sometimes it was okay for me to let my waves down or go to the grocery store in leggings. Or to eat dessert before dinner or to sleep in on a Sunday - all things Paige had taught me.

“Fine, let’s just forget it,” I mumble, unwilling to apologise or admit I had maybe overreacted. “C’mon, my friend’s waiting.”

Paige had been insisting all week that I let her drive me to the airport, but after what almost blew up to be our first argument I reminded her that if we wanted to keep this a secret that would have to include not telling Kiran. I also didn’t want to get my brother involved in something that wasn’t going to last in the end. I know he’d get far too excited about the possibility of having a future “sister-in-law” in the league. I couldn’t risk getting his hopes up. It was already dreadful work trying to keep mine realistic.

So instead of getting a cab, I had agreed for Trey to drive us. It was polite of him to offer, though Paige was convinced his intentions were far from chivalrous. 

“Who’s this guy again?” Kiran asks, pulling his large suitcase and unzipping his hoodie, already feeling the Dallas heat hit him.

“Just a coworker,” I explain as we step out, Trey leaning against the car with a bright smile once he spots us.

“Kiran! Welcome to Dallas!” He grins brightly, introducing himself to my brother with a firm handshake and an overly friendly expression - something I had grown accustomed to during my months in the States. My brother though, not so much, a little taken aback but still polite as always. 

We pack into the car and I let the boys sit in the front, leaning against the cool leather in the backseat as Trey points out different landmarks of the city for my brother.

“So you’re staying for how long?” Trey asks.

“For a little over a week,” I reply for my brother - a habit that I had always had.

“You gotta come see a game man,” Trey smiles, hands holding the wheel with relaxed ease.

Kiran nods, looking back at me. “That’s the plan. Need to get those courtside seats.”

I scoff, letting out a dry laugh. “Courtside? I don’t know how influential you think I am but you’ll take whatever seats I can get you.”

“Oh so I travelled all the way to America to sit in the back and not be able to see anything?”

“I’ll get you binoculars.”

Trey laughs, shrugging. “Everyone gotta experience courtside at least once bro,” he murmurs. “You should ask Paige, Zari.”

Only hearing her name come out of someone’s mouth is enough to make my cheeks flush red, as I toy with my fingers on my lap, clearing my throat to pull myself together.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I chuckle awkwardly.

“Oh c’mon, she’d love to help you out,” Trey encourages me, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re like two peas in a pod anyway.”

“You are?” My brother turns back to look at me, surprised by this revelation. 

“Not really.”

“Pshh, please,” Trey laughs. “They’re basically inseparable, thick as thieves, those two.”

“Wh- Why didn’t you tell me?” My brother who never forgot to mention what a huge fan of Paige he was (and how attractive he found her) asks, clearly offended.

“We’re just coworkers, that’s it,” I get a little too defensive for the lighthearted conversation. My brother doesn’t pick up on it though, too excited to find out that his sister is friends with one of his favourite players.

“You have to introduce us,” he insists. “She’s coming tomorrow right?”

“She’s coming tomorrow,” I groan, leaning the back of my head against the seat. I had invited my coworkers and some of the team over for dinner and drinks to celebrate my brother being here.

“Everyone’s coming! We love your sister here,” Trey smiles, reaching back to squeeze my knee. The gesture almost makes me jump. “She’s been my saving grace, dunno where I’d be without her.”

“You’re too kind Trey,” I reply as we pull up to the front of the apartment building.

“Nah, just honest, beautiful.”

My brother glances at me and the dark haired man sitting in the driver’s seat with a curious smile before leaning back in his seat, looking around the city.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting Paige Bueckers tomorrow,” he murmurs almost to himself. “I need to plan an outfit.”

“Kiran…” I warn him, growing irritated at his fawning. “She’s not Beyonce.”

“Yeah but she’s just as fit.”

Trey laughs, shaking his head. “Oh man, I don’t think you’re her type.”

“Told you,” I add humorlessly, becoming more annoyed.

“I’m sure I could make her change her mind,” he grins arrogantly. Immediately, I smack the back of his head, telling him to quit.

“Ow!”

“You’re disgusting,” I complain, watching Kiran rub the back of his head. 

“I was taking the piss, don’t get upset.”

I roll my eyes before forcing on a tense smile. “Anyway, thank you for the drive Trey and I am sorry for my little brother.”

“Nah it’s nothing, just let me know if I can do anything else okay? You need help tomorrow let me know.”

“Oh, I won’t! Thank you th-”

“No, no, I insist,” the man interrupts me. I hated being interrupted, especially by Trey. But he had a habit of doing that so I tried to be understanding. Kiran though, knowing how much I despised it, looks at me nervously. But I simply smile, opening the car door.

“Okay Trey, thank you.”

I climb out as he and Kiran dab each other up, my brother following after and grabbing his bags. As Trey pulls into the lane my brother looks at me.

“Are you and him going out?”

I let out a laugh, thinking he’s joking. But my brother keeps staring at me with the serious eyes of my father. So I raise my brows, shaking my head. Me and Trey? Never. Why does everyone think that.

“Absolutely not, he’s my coworker,” I scoff, walking into the building and calling an elevator.

“He fancies you,” Kiran murmurs with a grin. “Nice guy… A little too nice.”

“Why does everyone think he fancies me?” I snap, stepping into the elevator with my brother at my heel. He’s fanning his face, pearls of sweat already forming in the back of his neck.

“You weren’t joking about this heat,” he sighs looking at me. “Look, just be careful with that. I don’t want what happened with Jas-”

“I can take care of myself,” I say sternly, the sound of the metal key sliding into the lock of my apartment door marking the end of that conversation. Kiran knew better than to push my buttons.

I watch as my brother enters my Dallas apartment, mouth slightly agape as he looks around, kicking his shoes off and neatly setting them against the wall by the door. It felt strange, my two lives merging in this way. A piece of London coming together with my secret life in Texas. 

I follow behind Kiran as he takes steady steps along the corridor towards the living room. It’s like I’m seeing my home for the first time in a long time too. What was empty and impersonal just a month ago had become homey and decorated with effort. Framed black and white posters on the blank wall behind the TV, patterned pillows sitting pretty against the grey couch, a baby pink glass vase filled with the white lilies from Paige. The wooden shelf the blonde put up for me is filled with literature and plants. All of a sudden it surprises me, the way I had turned this apartment I thought I might despise forever into a home.

“This is nice,” Kiran admires, fanning his face once more. He walks over to my colour coded schedule hanging off the wall, reading it thoroughly - the current week colour coded green for Kiran.

He lets out a laugh, pointing a finger over messy handwriting in the corner.

“What’s this?”

I walk over, cheeks flashing red the second I realise what he’s pointing at. Underneath his fingertip, it reads: When’s my name getting on this schedule?

Kiran looks at me with a grin as I sigh, shaking my head. 

“Iz, just tell me you’re seeing Trey, there’s no shame in that.”

“Dude, I’m not,” I groan. “It’s just my friend playing with me.”

“Sure,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t believe it. Rolling my eyes I turn around, walking to the kitchen to get him something to eat. Fine, he can believe what he wants. I suppose it was better for him to think I was with Trey instead of Paige.

-

“I never liked that cologne,” Lou says, absentmindedly dribbling the ball along the hardwood. I shoot an easy three, wiping the post practice sweat off my forehead.

“Bro you’re crazy,” Arike laughs, wiping her hands on the towel resting on her broad shoulder. “It smells so good.”

“Nah, it smells bad. Tried it the other day and had to wash it off my wrist.”

“Well actually Izzie said colognes smell different on different people,” I tell the girls, my tone softening as it always did when I mentioned the girl. “Sumn about the oils on your skin.”

I miss the quick glance Lou and Arike give each other as I lean down to grab my water bottle, throwing my head back to chug it down my throat. 

“Yo, whose playlist is this?” Lou asks, the sound of a SZA song playing in the background of bouncing basketballs and squeaking sneakers. 

“Mine, it’s fire right?” I grin, tossing the ball between my hands. “Izzie loves this song,” I tell the girls, butterflies growing in my abdomen thinking about the way we were listening to Pretty Little Birds just the other day, making out in my car. 

“Bro…” Arike laughs, shooting a deep three.

“What?” I ask, confused by the way the girls were snickering together.

“Nun,” the girl murmurs, looking around the court. Everyone else had gone home besides us three, lingering not so much to practice but to spend time together. “I gotta figure out what to get Lala for her birthday.”

“When’s her birthday?” I ask, brushing blonde strands off my face.

“In a week, my Gemini girl,” she hums, wiping sweat off her neck.

“Izzie’s a Leo.”

“Bro!” Arike and Lou groan together, bursting into laughter. I start laughing too, but truthfully I got no idea what they’re finding so funny.

“What?” I ask, slightly annoyed.

“You just can not shut up about her huh?” Lou chuckles, looking at me. To my horror I realise that the entire day I have been bringing her name up in every conversation, always finding a way to snake her in. Truthfully, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t think of anything else. Just her.

“Bro, no ‘s not like that,” I laugh, rubbing the bridge of my nose in embarrassment. “She just knows stuff. I just be listening.”

“Are you listening to us tho?” Arike teases, walking over and shoving my face playfully. I blush, rolling my eyes.

“Aight, enough.”

“Ohhh she down bad,” Arike taunts me, laughing as she points my face out to Lou, red as a tomato. “Look at how red she is.”

“No, you just being bullies,” I complain, though there was no hiding it. I knew she was right. “We’re just friends.”

“Rightttt,” Lou chuckles, sharing another amused glance with Arike.

“Bro, what?” I ask, sitting down on the hardwood and grabbing my phone.

“You guys are not as slick as you think,” Lou laughs, Rike nodding in agreement.

“Forreal, she be eyefucking you mid practice.”

I nearly choke on my water.

“Yooooo, you trippin,” I complain, eyes widening as I look around the court to make sure no one could hear. The girls share another glance, snickering again. I check the time, realising I need to get home if I want to look presentable for the dinner party. For Izara.

“Shoot, I’mma need to go get ready,” I murmur, climbing up from the floor and grabbing my stuff.

“You nervous meeting her baby bro?” Arike asks.

Yes. I hadn’t slept last night.

“Nah,” I chuckle. “It’s cool, I’ll see y’all tonight.”

-

You have to be joking. I rummage through my bag once again, pulling out hoodies and towels and socks. Nothing. My hands feel the pockets of my shorts for my keys but they’re nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” I murmur to myself, looking around the apartment stairway as if it might help me figure out a way in. There wasn’t one. Not without my keys, which I clearly didn’t have with me. I really didn’t need this today, I had been on edge all morning, nervousness twisting in my stomach as I thought about meeting Kiran. I had to make a good impression. I just had to. 

Digging for my phone in my pocket, I dial the number for a locksmith. But as my finger is about to press call, the screen goes black, flashing to be charged as if taunting me. “Are you kidding me,” I groan rubbing my face.

There was no other choice, so I make my way down the flight of stairs, smoothing my slicked back hair that had gone frizzy at practice as I knock on the door. Quickly it opens, familiar eyes staring back at me. Though they’re not green, more like hazel, still sharp and wise just like Izara’s.

Kiran is a mirror image of her sister, if not for the wide jaw and broad shoulders and the stubble covering the lower half of his face. He also didn’t look nearly as intimidating, a softness on his face the way Izzie’s face relaxed only once when she slept.

“Oh shoot, hey,” I murmur surprised, immediately offering my right hand for him to shake. “I’m Paige, you gotta be Kiran.”

The boy’s brows rise and lips part as he takes it in. Paige Bueckers, in the flesh.

“Oh I know who you are,” he chuckles in a friendly way, shaking my hand firmly. “Big fan.”

“Who is it?” Izara’s voice shouts from the kitchen, gentle steps approaching as she peeks around the corner to the front door. The nervousness in my stomach settles the second I see her face, her green eyes widening.

“Paige,” she gasps, walking hurriedly to me and Kiran as if not wanting to leave us alone for a second. She’s wearing a striped apron over her knitted set, though her makeup and hair are done in preparation for the night.

“Hey Izzie, I’m sorry,” I murmur, my voice softening as I speak to her. “I locked myself outta my apartment.” 

I want to kiss her, to wrap my arms around her like I always did to greet her. But I knew in front of Kiran we are only friends. It was killing me.

“Did you call a locksmith?” Kiran interrupts, clearly eager to be a part of the conversation. His eyes never leave me, feeling too starstruck in the moment.

“Phone’s dead,” I chuckle awkwardly. Izzie looks from me to her brother, back to me. We’re both awkward, unsure how to act under the watchful eyes of Kiran.

“Go knead the dough,” Izzie commands her brother, pushing him towards the kitchen.

“B-but,” he starts but just like me. he has no choice but to listen to the dark haired girl.

“Go.”

Wordlessly, doing his best not to protest, Kiran turns the corner and goes into the kitchen. Izzie turns to me, wrapping a quick arm around my waist. I press a silent kiss on the top of her hair, my pounding heart slowing down the moment I feel her flush against me.

“Missed you,” I whisper, praying Kiran can’t hear. “I’m sorry for this.”

“No gorgeous, it’s perfectly okay,” Izzie reassures me. “You wanna borrow my phone?”

-

“Wait she lives right upstairs? Why didn’t you tell me?” Kiran complains but I shush him, wrapping the pasta dough to let it rest in the fridge.

“Because you’re embarrassing me,” I hiss, pushing him out of my way. Paige is in the other room, talking to the locksmith, her voice muffled through the walls.

“Iz why didn’t you tell me you were like… actually good friends?”

I roll my eyes, shutting the fridge door. “We’re friends. That’s it. Coworkers.”

“She calls you Izzie… She gets away with that?”

“She prefers it.”

“No one calls you Izzie but me and like… your best friends,” my brother points out. I shrug, turning to him.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were gonna be weird about it,” I whisper, listening for the blonde girl making sure she won’t overhear us.

“I won’t be!”

“You’re being weird right now!” My voice rises a little, but I quickly remind myself to be quiet. “Look, Paige is cool. She’s been a good friend to me. That’s all, end of conversation.”

“She’s hotter in person,” Kiran grins, I shove him hard enough to let him know I wasn’t playing around.

“Quit. She’s gay,” I scoff, beginning to chop up some onions.

“How can you be sure?”

Oh if he only knew.

“I’m sure,” I complain, growing irritated and even slightly jealous at my brother’s remarks about Paige. “Just act normal, for once. Please.”

Just as he’s about to answer, the blonde walks around the corner, a frustrated smile stretched across her face.

“Well, bad news,” she groans, walking over to me absentmindedly - our bodies like magnets, pulling to be close each moment. “They not coming till tomorrow.”

“Are you joking?” Kiran asks, laughing and leaning against the counter. Paige nods, shifting on her feet, pushing her cuticles back. An anxious habit she has. It’s then I realise, she’s nervous, looking around the ceiling, biting the insides of her cheeks.

“Wish I was,” she murmurs. “I’mma call Rike and ask if I can go over to theirs.”

“Well, you could stay here, right Iz?” My brother asks. I want to kill him. Not because I don’t want her here. But because I don’t know how long I can keep myself under control with her around. I could already feel my body aching to touch her, to press close to her.

I glance up at Paige whose blue eyes and staring down at me, soft and pleading. I know she feels just as I do.

“Of course you can stay,” I murmur, my voice involuntarily rising and softening. 

“Yeah?” Paige asks, her voice a soft hum as if it’s just us two at this moment. I nod, my cheeks turning rosy. 

“I need to shower,” she says. “And change.”

“I washed the button up you left here,” I coo, “and you have those black shorts here you could wear them.”

“Thank you Iz,” she murmurs. “Dunno what I’d do without you.”

Kiran clears his throat and suddenly I’m brought back to earth, Paige takes a step back realising she’s probably leaning over a little too close.

“Go shower,” I tell Paige, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice.

“Yes ma’am,” the blonde says, leaving with a slight smile to both me and my brother.

“Oh, the towels ar-”

“I know,” Paige shouts from around the corner, disappearing. Avoiding the gaze of my brother, I begin to chop up the onions and carrots, my eyes locked on the chopping board. But I see from the corner of my eye Kiran looking at me curiously. Fuck, I guess we’re being pretty obvious. I’m sure he’s already noticed.

“I’m about to have a sleepover with Paige Bueckers,” he gleams in a quiet voice, his face sparkling. I let out a deep breath, too relieved to even scold him. My dear little brother was bright and kind and gentle - and completely oblivious at times. Thank God.

-

I stand in my towel in Izzie’s bedroom, looking at my shirt hung up in her closet. It looks right, her clothes next to mine, the white and baby blue striped shirt fitting perfectly with the cream coloured dress beside it. It’s too hot to get fully dressed, so I put on my white sports bra and the black denim shorts, my boxers peeking out just a little. As I’m checking myself in the mirror, Izzie steps in, eyes glancing at my bare abdomen.

“Oh sorry, I should’ve knocked,” she mumbles, closing the door behind her.

“No mama, it’s okay,” I reassure her, watching her walk over to the closet and pull out my shirt, smoothing over it carefully.

“I ironed it too,” she tells me, and my heart nearly bursts from the lilt of her voice.

“Thank you,” I murmur, walking over and snaking a hand around her waist, like I’d been dying to ever since I stepped in. Izzie’s eyes flutter shut, breathing immediately growing heavy. All this sneaking around was somehow getting both of us more hot and bothered.

“I- I’m done with the food, I just have to set the table,” she whispers, exhaling loudly as I lean down and pepper soft kisses along her neck. “I have to get dressed.”

“Lemme help.”

“Paige…” she hums, a feeble attempt at resistance while her body submits, head tilting to give me more space. My hand feels the curve of her body, finding its way to the band of her knitted pants. I had been dying for this, for her.

“Kiss me,” I plead, voice turning whiny. “Please Iz, kiss me.”

She doesn’t hesitate, turning to face me and wrapping her arms around my neck as she pulls me down for a hungry, heated kiss. “You’re driving me crazy,” she whimpers into my mouth as she kicks her pants off. My knee quickly finds its way between her thighs, pressing into her clothed core.

“Missed you so bad baby,” I nearly cry out, touching her everywhere, her legs, her waist, her arms, her face. I couldn’t get enough. Just one night spent apart had been torture.

“Iz where are the napkins?” Kiran’s voice suddenly cuts through our joint panting, making us both stop in our heels.

“Uhh, hold on, I need to change,” Izzie shouts through the door, flustered. I chuckle a little, wiping my lips to dry them from the girl’s spit. “Go show him,” she silently commands, pointing at the door.

“Yes ma’am,” I whisper, grinning and stepping out. Kiran is standing outside the door expectantly, eyes widening when he sees me. He’s not very tall, around the same height as I am. He looks at me for a while, studying my face.

“You okay, you’re a little red?”

I feel my cheeks burn even hotter at his question, just hoping he wasn’t as bright as his older sister.

“Uhh, yeah, was a hot shower,” I chuckle awkwardly, walking to the kitchen with the boy. “How old are you anyway?” I ask to change the subject.

“Oh I’m 22,” he answers. I nod, automatically opening the correct kitchen drawer for the napkins. 

“Here,” I murmur, handing them to Kiran.

“Huh.”

I turn my eyes to him curiously. “What?”

“You know where the towels are, where the napkins are, you call her Izzie… You must be really good friends with my sister,” he says, leaning against the counter. I was always a bad liar, so I decided it would be better to be honest - as long as it wasn’t too honest.

“Yeah, she’s awesome,” I smile to myself, watching Kiran reach for plates. “No not those ones,” I tell him, pointing to the second set on top. “She uses those for guests. You know how she is.”

“Oh, trust me I do,” he laughs. “Grew up with her.”

I chuckle. “She always been that…”

“Uptight?”

“I was gon say particular.”

The laughter from Kiran is enough of an answer, making me grin too.

“You know, she didn’t even tell me you two are friends,” he says as we walk the cutlery and glasses to the dining table. I stop, furrowing my brows. Why would she try to hide that? Maybe she was more private than I thought. But not even telling her own brother that we’re friends seemed a little strange.

Kiran notices, grabbing the wine glasses from my hands. “Don’t take it personally, it probably has more to do with me than you. She thinks I’m a fan.”

I chuckle, beginning to set up the plates hoping whatever I was doing would be up to Izara’s standards. Likely not. “Well are you?”

Kiran rolls his eyes, looking like a carbon copy of his sister just for a fleeting second. “Well I mean, you play tough! I can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, top PG in the world,” I joke, knowing that the start to this season had been horrible. It was better to joke than to show how I really felt. I tried to be grateful for the path God had paved for me, but I just didn’t understand why it had to be like this. 

“Absolutely not, that’s Magic,” Kiran argues, watching as I set the table.

“Over Steph?”

Kiran thinks for a while, about to answer when Izara steps out of the room, in a cream coloured halter neck dress, making her skin glow even more than usual.

“Steph is the best point guard of all time,” she interrupts, finishing the conversation for both of us. “Paige, could you zip me up?”

I watch her, breathless, before realising I was definitely doting and should probably stop.

“Uh, sure,” I gulp, walking over. Izara turns her back to me, pulling her hair to the side. Flashes of the nights spent together fill my head, memories of the way that back looks in the dim light of her bedroom when she’s bent over for me. I breathe heavily through my nose, my hands nearly shaking when I fumble with the zipper, slowly brushing my fingers against her skin as I zip upwards. It kills me not to lean down and press an open mouthed kiss on her shoulder, Izzie’s perfume in the air taunting me.

The girl feels it too, I can see it from the goosebumps forming on her arms and the irregular way her chest is heaving. 

“Uh, Kiran used to play actually,” she says with a gentle voice to interrupt the tender moment.

“Oh, forreal? You should come shoot some ball with us next week,” I suggest, glancing at Kiran who’s obliviously fluffing the pillows on the couch just like his sister does.

“Yeah, he’s not that good,” Iz teases, her breath hitching a little as my hands linger on her neck, bringing her hair back from her shoulder.

“Yeah, well Paige hasn’t been doing too hot either,” Kiran jokes, my brows rising and an offended smile growing on my face.

“Kiran!” Izzie scolds, and it warms my heart how genuinely offended she seems for me. I laugh, rubbing my jaw.

“Nah, he clocked me lowkey,” I chuckle, Kiran sitting down on the couch and laughing. I sit down next to him leaning back, manspreading as always. “You play Fortnite?” Classic way to bond with anyone’s younger brother.

“Oh good heavens,” Izzie murmurs, fixing the way we set the table which, unsurprisingly, wasn’t up to her standards.

“Sometimes, haven’t for a bit though,” Kiran answers.

“You and Iz should come play sometime next week. I got a playstation,” I suggest, wanting to do anything to win him over. I needed him to like me, badly.

“Oh, good luck getting that one to play,” Kiran points at Izzie, whose face is scrunched up in concentration as she refolds the napkins for each plate for the fourth time.

A smug grin spreads on my face. “Oh she played with me.”

The boy’s jaw falls slack as he looks at his sister, a shocked look on his face. “Iz?”

The dark haired girl grins, rolling her eyes. “I had no choice, I lost a bet.”

“What bet?”

The bet when Izara didn’t believe I could make her cum in five minutes. I did it in three. Our eyes meet, a knowing smirk on both our faces. My cheeks turn hot as I chuckle awkwardly, looking to the ground.

“Just some bet,” Iz murmurs. “Now both of you, go change. Guests are gonna be here any minute.”

“Yes ma’am,” me and Kiran answer in unison, getting up from the couch without hesitation.

-

“Bolognese in a white dress. I’m impressed,” Lala jokes as I set the plate down in front of her, a piece of garlic bread on the side.

“Oh I’m ready to change any moment I spill,” I laugh as Paige emerges from behind me with more plates, placing them in front of each guest. She had insisted on helping me, hovering around me eager for anything to do. I found it incredibly endearing. 

Everyone is gathered around the dining table, my coworkers and some of the team I had grown close to all welcoming my brother with open arms. As much as the Texas hostility felt overwhelming at times, at this moment I’m grateful for it. Kiran is sitting between Trey and Arike, engaged in a lively conversation about UK rap, which the girl seems uneducated on. I’m not sure whether to warn her that my brother can talk about any topic for hours, so she should just stop before it starts.

“Could you-” I start but Paige is already turning around.

“The wine and the beer?”

I smile contentedly, chest fluttering as I watch the blonde girl already know what I needed without needing me to finish a sentence. Me and her go around, pouring drinks around the table before settling opposite of Arike and Lala, the older woman smiling at us knowingly. Of course she knew, there was no hiding anything from her I had realised these past couple months as we became closer friends.

“This looks fire,” Arike gleams, about to dig in. But Lala stops her.

“You should say a few words, Zari.”

Not again. What is it with Americans and their stupid speeches? I freeze, trying to maintain my composure. I hadn’t planned for anything to say, my palms beginning to sweat at the idea of an impromptu speech. It was badly reminding me of my arrival to Dallas, and the way Paige had saved me. As if reading my mind, the blonde stands up beside me, grabbing her bottle of beer.

“Uhh, welcome everyone, it’s nice seein’ y’all,” she starts a little flustered. Arike snickers, giving Lou a look. I turn to Paige, watching her glance down at me with a smile. My mouth stretches into an approving grin, feeling butterflies in my stomach for the way the blonde girl just knew me. Just knew when she should take the reins and lead me once in a while. It felt good to be known.

“Iz- I mean Zari, she savin’ her voice so she can yell at me later for fucking up this speech later,”

Laughter. She always knew how to make people laugh. I laugh too, which makes the blonde beam with pride.

“I think I’m speakin’ for everyone when I say we’re all really grateful for this little lady right here,” Paige continues, her hand coming to squeeze my shoulders. Sparks spread down my body, as I bring my hand over hers, patting it.

“I know  if it wasn’t for this woman right here I’d be eatin’ McDonalds four times a week,” she chuckles, pulling her hand away after lingering for as long as she possibly can. “We’re so lucky to have her here in Dallas with us, not just tonight but always.”

I chew on my lower lip, my heart pounding in my chest. I want to stand up and kiss her, to hold her forever and never let go.

“So thanks Kiran for letting us borrow your sister. She’s… a blessing,” she smiles, pointing the glass bottle towards my brother who’s smiling up at her. “Uh, anyway, to Izzie. Oh, and welcome Kiran.”

My cheeks burn red as the blonde sits back down, cheering my wine glass with her bottle. I can’t help it when my hand comes to rub her broad, muscular shoulders over the pale blue shirt that made her appear tanner than normal. She looks gorgeous, a wide smile across her face eager for praise.

“You’re so sweet my love,” I whisper to her as the clinking of glasses and bottles fills the room. Paige beams, leaning over and kissing my cheek in a way that could be seen as platonic - but I know better. I can feel the emotion and intent behind it, the way she lingers just a millisecond longer than a friend would.

“Yo, this is so good,” Arike groans as people pass around the parmesan, taking turns grating it onto each plate.

“Iz always made the best bolognese,” Kiran says, setting his napkin neatly onto his lap just like me. I smile happily at the compliments, grating parm onto my plate, and then to Paige’s. I had cooked for her enough times to know how much cheese she liked. My brother, Arike, Lou and Satou stare at us unbeknownst to me, as Paige mutters a quiet thanks. Lala’s hand is quick to swat at her fiance, signalling her to stop her snickering.

I hear the blonde chuckling to herself, watching my brother closely as she takes bites of her food.

“What are you laughing at?” I whisper as the noise and hassle around us fades into a distant hum, the room moving on without us, leaving us slipping into our own little world.

Paige grins, pointing discreetly at my brother who’s meticulously folding the corners of his napkin.

“He’s doin’ that thing you do,” the girl laughs quietly, leaning closer to me. I smirk realising she was right, but can’t keep my eyes on Kiran sitting opposite us when I feel Paige’s hand on my bare knee underneath the table, the ring on her thumb cool against my warm skin. Licking my lips my eyes lock on Paige, who’s leaning back on her chair and sipping her beer, jawline prominent as she throws her head back. She’s engaged in a conversation with Lou sitting next to her, a blonde strand falling on her face from her bun. Without thinking about it I reach over and fix it for her, the simple but intimate gesture making her squeeze my knee and bring her hand a little further, fingertips digging into my thigh now.

-

We play this cat and mouse game the entire duration of dinner, a glance here, a touch there. It takes all my self-discipline not to allow my hand to travel up and up her silky thigh. But I resist, both of us spending the evening talking to everyone but each other, but we know that we’re both on fire, burning and aching to love on each other.

“Oh gosh, I’m so full,” Izzie complains to Arike and Lala, leaning back on her chair. Without much thinking, I grab the fork from my empty plate and begin to pick at Izara’s leftovers - a routine we had grown into in the past month. She finishes my coffee, I finish her food. 

“This was so good, seriously,” Satou praises as Arike reaches for a second helping of garlic bread.

“Delicious Zari, you’re a very good cook,” Trey smiles in a sickly sweet manner, pissing me off. Everything he did pissed me off. I could see through every trick. He had been talking with Kiran all night, interrupting any conversation I had with him. I knew he was trying to win over the little brother. He would never win over Izzie though. He would never make her cum in just three minutes. No, only I did that.

“Thank you everyone,” Iz smiles, looking around the table, her green eyes lined with black stopping on me, lashes fluttering. Suddenly she bursts into a laugh.

“What?” I ask, my mouth full of spaghetti.

The dark haired girl giggles, suddenly grabbing hold of my chin and leaning over with a napkin.

“Oh darling how’d you manage to do this?” She says with a stifled laugh, wiping harshly at the corners of my mouth and chin. My cheeks grow rosy and hot, from embarrassment but also from the way she’s leaning over, the plunging neckline of the dress accentuating her round breasts, nevermind her nails digging into my chin like they sometimes did when she pulled me into a kiss. With an internal groan I force my gaze to the corner of the room, trying to rid the filthy thoughts in my head.

“I dunno, I’m just a messy eater,” I joke, raising my brows and it’s Izara’s turn to blush as she pulls back, shoving me away by my jaw playfully.

“Yooo,” Arike, who's been watching us closely with Lala, laughs to herself. So much for being secretive I guess. To my horror I notice Kiran in the corner, eyeing us suspiciously, but shrugging as he opens another beer.

“Shut up,” Izzie says sternly, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.”

She grins, letting out a heavy exhale through her nose before speaking. 

“Would anyone want more to drink?” she offers, standing up from her seat. Like clockwork, I do the same.

“I’ll help.”

Trey stands up too, beginning to pile up plates. I wanna strangle him.

“I can help too,” Trey suggests, but I yank the plates from him as gently as you could yank anything, a blank smile on my face.

“Don’t worry bro, small kitchen.” Not really, but I did not need him trying to win my Izara over. Not now, not ever. It was my job and right to serve her and take care of her. Not his. Mine.

I carry the load of dirty dishes into the kitchen where Izara is opening another bottle of wine, a hint of a blush on her cheeks from the alcohol. I watch her scrunched up concentrated face, leaning against the counter with the beer bottle between my lips, taking a long sip. She doesn’t turn her head to look, she knows I’m watching, she can tell by the way it burns her skin.

“You gonna follow me around all night?” She asks, a teasing lilt to her voice. I chuckle dryly, walking closer to help her with the bottle. I might not drink wine but had many practice rounds before hanging out with the dark haired girl. It would’ve been embarrassing if she had found out I didn’t know how to open wine bottles before. My fingers brush over hers, sending sparks everywhere.

“Someone gotta look after you,” I murmur, the discussions from the dining table now merely muffled noises. The silence stretches unbearably, our heavy breathing the only sound as I work the bottle, Izzie’s arm brushing against mine and tickling. With a deep sigh, the dark haired girl turns around towards the sink, beginning to wash the plates, one by one. Finally popping the bottle, I follow her, boldly taking steps towards her until I can feel the heat of her back against my front.

“Why you always gotta be on dish duty?” I ask with a whisper, reaching around her and putting the plates down from her hands. She’s impossibly still, trying not to let me know how much my closeness affected her. Though the goosebumps on her neck were visible, telling me just enough.

“I like taking care of people,” she hums.

“My turn to take care of you ma,” I say softly, turning off the sink. “You got sumn on your neck.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” I nod, slowly leaning down as my chest presses into her upper back, my nose brushing the curls on her neck to the side. “Right here.”

I wet my lips before they land on the skin of her neck, Izara’s perfume making my mind spin as I leave gentle kisses on her. She whimpers silently, the curve of her ass fitting perfectly against my hips. I feel a familiar ache growing deep in my stomach, a burn that could only be satisfied by one thing. 

As my slow hands are about to land on Izzie’s breasts, footsteps rapidly growing closer force me to take a step back. It’s as if I’m prying myself away from the girl, whole body aching with how badly I need her.

Kiran, holding two empty bottles of beer, turns the corner and smiles.

“Well hello.”

“Havin a good time?” I ask, clearing my throat when my voice comes out hoarse.

“Ohh yeah it’s great,” Kiran grins, wrapping an arm around Izzie’s shoulders. She’s still gathering herself, green eyes locked into mine. “Heard you’ve been taking good care of my sister.” 

We both pause, Izara’s eyes widening. Kiran is oblivious though, reaching for a new bottle of beer. I hand it to him, heart pounding fast in my chest.

“Arike was saying how you drive her everywhere so she doesn’t have to take cabs.”

I let out a deep sigh of relief, chuckling awkwardly and shrugging. “‘S nothin, she’s good to me too.”

“Ohhh her best friends are gonna be jealous when I tell them what a good friend you have over in Dallas,” Kiran teases Iz, poking her face. I can see he’s a little tipsy, growing much looser like his sister with alcohol. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” the girl groans, pushing his brother off her playfully. Kiran sips his beer, looking at us two. 

“So, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

Me and Izara share a look, unsure of how to play this in a way that will make sure we’ll end up in her bed together by the end of the night. 

“I’m playing, of course you’ll sleep together,” Kiran chuckles. “You can stay up and have a sleepover and talk shit about everyone like girls do.”

A nervous laughter fills the kitchen as me and Iz glance at each other. “Why don’t you go back in the living room,” she says, guiding Kiran away from the kitchen. “I’ll come after I get a drink.”

“No, go sit down. I’ll pour you one,” I tell Iz. She turns to me, nearly resisting. But I give her lower back a gentle nudge, nodding towards the living room. “Go relax ma.”

-

I greet the last guests bye, closing the front door with a glass of red wine - not for me of course, but for the girl leaning back on the couch. I walk to the living room, handing it to her. A gentle smile of approval is all I get and need for a thank you, it being enough to make my ears burn.

“Tired?” I ask gently, my hand petting over Izzie’s dark hair. She shrugs, taking a sip of the red wine letting it paint her lips. My fingertips touch against her neck, on the spot I kissed before, the faint taste of her lips still on mine.

“A little,” she whispers. I know what that means. She wants to get into bed, but not to sleep. Kiran is a little tipsy, digging through his suitcase for pajamas with his back facing us. I take the opportunity to reach for Izara’s hand, and kiss it softly. She hums happily, finishing her wine with a long gulp.

“I’m going to bed,” Izzie yawns loudly, making a big scene for her baby brother. 

“Me too, but gotta play Fortnite tomorrow, yeah?” I say, following behind her trail like I had been all night.

“Oh for sure,” Kiran grins, first hugging me, and then her sister. Guess he was more tipsy than I thought.

“Good God, have some water,” Izzie complains as we step into the bedroom, closing the door behind us both.

For a moment we merely look at each other, and only then I realise how badly the burn in my abdomen had been killing me all night. She still looked flawless, though the wine and the company had made her cheeks glow red and eyes grow tired. We get ready for bed together, standing side by side brushing our teeth, taking turns washing our faces. I lean back, letting Izara take her time with her detailed, 12 step skincare routine. It doesn’t bore me, matter of fact I could’ve watched her all night. If it wasn’t for the way my core ached for her.

It all felt so incredibly domestic, her brother sleeping on the couch, the way we had done the dishes together, scrub and dry, scrub and dry, over and over. The way the foam had spilled all over her lips as she leaned over to spit the toothpaste out of her mouth, the way she stared into the mirror to comb through her dark thick hair, letting me catch a glimpse of her inner world. It made me feel special.

“Could you unzip me?” Iz asks, voice hoarse and raspy from talking all night. Without hesitation I walk over, my long fingers pulling down the zipper carefully. I lean down and press a soft kiss onto her upper back. I could get used to this.

I undress too, into my sports bra and boxers, before sliding underneath the sheets. I watch closely as Izzie turns off the lights, the street lamps providing enough light for me to see the dress drop onto the floor, a strapless bra and a matching white thong underneath. I lift the covers for her, never looking away. I couldn’t dare to.

Silently, we turn to our sides, noses nearly touching from how close we are to each other, simply breathing each other in. Our bodies are buzzing with the stolen touches and hungry glances of the night, something about trying to keep this hidden making it all even more ecstatic. Izzie traps her lower lip under her teeth, green eyes gazing into me desperately. I can’t stop myself. I inch closer, nose pressing into hers, her hot minty breath lingering on my face. And then I kiss her, like I had been dying to.

It quickly grows from gentle and loving to intimate and raw. I roll on top of Izzie, beginning to kiss her neck sloppily. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the pure lust, but both of us were getting needier quicker than normal, my teeth nibbling on her long, beautiful neck, probably leaving a mark or two. I couldn’t be bothered to care.

My hands make quick work of her bra, pulling it off and chucking it somewhere on the floor. She’s breathing heavy now, legs wrapping around me. My large hands feel her up everywhere, her breasts, her waist, her hips, her thighs, silky smooth everywhere. 

“Fuck,” I whisper, leaning down to trap one of her breasts into my mouth. Izara’s back arches, my lips wrapping around her nipples and sucking, making my boxers grow impossibly wet. “Perfect tits.”

My fingertips travel down her stomach, to the band of her satin panties, dipping underneath just slightly. Iz breathes out loudly, looking at me with furrowed brows.

“What about Kiran?” She whispers, her hips squirming in a way that lets me know she might cry if she doesn’t get this.

“Just gotta be quiet,” I answer comfortingly, raising my head to face her. “You can do that for me, right baby?”

She nods eagerly, a cocky grin spreading onto my face. “Good girl,” I whisper, pulling her panties down. She’s soaked, already dripping onto the sheets. I have to bite down onto her  shoulder when my fingers dip into her pussy, making a loud squelching sound as I swirl in her folds. Izzie gasps, but I cover her mouth before she can make noise.

“Oh my poor baby,” I whimper into her ear, nose nuzzling it gently. “You been this wet for me all night?”

“Mhmm,” Izzie nods desperately as my fingertips rub slow and sloppy circles on her puffy, soaked clit. I feel my own pussy throbbing at the way she had been dying all day, needing me so badly. I just wanted to take care of her.

“Lemme make it better,” I murmur, speeding up my movements. “Lemme help baby, it hurts don’t it?”

The girl nods, her eyes rolling back as my fingers rub in fast, tight circles, more precise than before. I feel the way her body’s tensing and flexing underneath me, her pleasure growing each second. She’s impossibly wet, and I pray Kiran can’t hear the squelching sounds nevermind the quiet whimpers coming from her.

“Gonna make you feel so good baby, gonna make it all better,” I coo, a high pitched gasp leaving Izzie when my fingers slide into her tight cunt with ease from how slick she was.

“Shh, gotta be quiet mama,” I remind her, kissing on her neck and breasts as I pump my fingers into her. She’s pulsing already, throbbing around my long digits that are curling against the soft tissue inside her, right at the spot that made her gush around my fingers. Should’ve put a towel down, but right this moment, I couldn’t care less.

“Paige,” she whispers, muffled against my hand covering her mouth. She’s close, but I’m not done, my mouth watering already like it had been all night. So I replace my hand with hers and begin my descent. 

I kiss my way down, throwing the blanket off from top of me and her, spreading her legs wide open. She’s really soaked, I can see it even in the dim light of the room. A groan escapes my mouth, watching the way my fingers slip in and out of her with ease, her pussy stretching around them perfectly.

Suddenly, Izzie’s yanking my hair and my lips wrap around her clit, tongue circling it at a rapid pace. She’s squirming, legs shaking but I don’t care, pinning her hips down as my fingers pump into her at an incredible speed, my tongue making quick work of her. Her grip tightens in my hair and her cunt pulses around my fingers desperately. She doesn’t need to tell me, I know she’s cumming.

So I keep going, adding a third finger as my tongue moves back and forth fast, my eyes rolling back from how good she tastes. Izzie’s body tenses up, pussy growing tighter and tighter around me like it never had before. Her whimpers are muffled, but obvious, but both of us are too far gone to care.

“Paige I-” she whispers with a high pitched voice, and suddenly she begins to tremble and shake, tugging at my hair as she finishes all over my face. Perhaps it’s not right to pray to God in moments like these, but I plead that behind the bedroom door her brother’s fast asleep, entirely oblivious to what I was and had been doing to his dear sister.

-

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[cheonstapes]

HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.

Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following

-🐈

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (ﾟωﾟ)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.miguel o’hara x reader.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

SMUT

you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷

cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!

2k+ words

@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!

you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.

who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.

every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.

but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.

walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.

he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“

“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.

miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.

he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.

“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.

sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.

of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.

the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.

he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.

“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.

he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.

“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.

“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.

he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.

“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.

“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.

“i…i love you too, migs.”

you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.

“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.

the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.

“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”

miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-smack myass like a drum

[deluluonmyback]

impulsivity in bpd can be cutting and dyeing your hair, but it’s also frying and destroying your hair to a point where it’s completely ruined and you’re self conscious of it everyday.

impulsivity in bpd can be having an attitude and saying some petty things to people, but it’s also ruining every good friendship and relationship you’ve ever had and you can’t stop yourself from sabotaging everything, so you end up alone in a deep pit.

impulsivity in bpd can be having some drinks, doing dr*gs, or having a lot of meaningless sex. but it’s also relying on drinking and dr*gs so much that you’re completely off your face all time and it ruins your image and every aspect of your life. and it’s also no one wanting a relationship with you because you “sleep around” or “probably have an std”.

impulsivity in bpd can be browsing an fps facebook. but it’s also stalking their every move online and their every step in the real world constantly because you need them so bad. you can’t live without knowing if they’re okay, knowing what they’re doing, knowing if they’re leaving you for someone else, etc.

the list goes on. us borderlines post a lot of shit about bpd, and in my personal case, laughing it off and sharing it to others makes me feel a bit better and i know that it makes others feel less alone knowing that other people are doing the same horrendous shit. but stop romanticising being obsessive, quirky, impulsive, and having an attitude. it’s fucking painful. the emotional aspect is PHYSICALLY painful. watching the world crumble around us because most of us can’t fucking stop ourselves is painful. the withdrawals from substances, s/h, etc because we are so prone to addiction is PAINFUL. i’m all for supporting our fellow borderlines and cluster b peoples, but STOP self diagnosing to be “trendy”. i’m not on about self diagnosing, etc if you’re certain and it means you’re getting the support that you absolutely need. everyone is deserving of help, whether healthcare wants to agree or not, EVERYONE deserves the help they need. but stop trying to make bpd sound fun. being euphoric is fun, the rest of it IS NOT. ITS FUCKING PAINFUL. thank u bye 💕

(ps. i hate making rant posts about this, but seeing people act like bpd is a “fun choice” in life pisses me the fuck off, every day is just pure fucking suffering. the people romanticising and hyping this shit up are the same people who will talk shit about any cluster b who is showing symptoms or having one hell of an episode. but this NEEDS to be out there x)

(edit: the amount of support i’ve had on this is unreal 😭❤️ i tried to word this the best i can but when i have a lot to say it often comes out making no fucking sense at all or something comes off the wrong way. i saw someone reply about the yanderes shit. I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. i don’t know why the fuck people fetishise it, it makes me feel disgusting to have an fp even if i’m keeping as far away from them as possible. and also the “euphoric is fun”, i still do a lot of embarrassing and over the top shit when i’m euphoric that i regret. but in the moment, the happiness i feel i just embrace now because it’s not been often that i ever get to feel like that. thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, i really hope this post has helped y’all. I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️)

[nanamis-princess]

Can I rq jjk x depressed reader hcs? And gn reader please!!

Love your works btw, 10/10! You're genuinely one of my favorite people on here

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Jujitsu Kaisen men x depressed reader headcanons

Synopsis: your depressed & they wanna make you feel better:)

Genre: fluff with a dose of depression

T/w: depression, mentions of geto making someone go bye bye loll, not being able to take care of yourself. Plz lmk if I missed anything.

Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Yuji, Megumi (separate) X gen reader

Nanami

-Nanami is a very observant partner, that new ice cream flavor you tried and said you liked is now written down in his notes app. When he brought you as his plus one to his company dinner party, he could tell you weren’t found of one of his coworker without you having to say a word about it. He dismissed you both and you carried on with the night. So Kento notices when you start slipping, sometimes even before you do.

-kento will use his sick days to spend time with you, to make sure you’re okay. You’ll spend the morning cuddling, if you want to be held he will hold you and kiss your forehead.

- If you start crying he lets you get it out, he will wipe your tears away. Kento runs his hands along to your upper cheek after wipe your tears, rubbing your temple as tears run down your cheek. “You’ll get through this I promise” he says rubbing your temple near the roots of your hair.

-if you are in a state where you can eat he will prepare you a home cooked meal along with a glass of water. But if you prefer takeout he’ll get it for you, whatever you want to eat its yours as long as you are eating something. Eating together on the couch with light rain hitting the widow, snuggled in with blankets and candles going.

-if you aren’t able to eat he’ll just you take a few bites so you have something in your system along with a glass of water. He also encourages you to indulge, you are already going through enough and he wants you to take it easy.

-along with trying to make it easy if you take any medication he has reminders on his phone until it’s mussel memory to remind you. He cleans up after you as well, he knows how hard it is to get through this and wants to make this process as easy for you as he can.

-he takes care of your hair for you, he’ll bathe you while using essential oils and helps you get dressed along with your nightly routine. “I’m so proud of you for making it through today darling, I know it was draining” he say in a low tone as he rubs the lotion onto your back. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder.

-during the day he gets you out of the bed and to sit in the living room with him, just so you are up out of bed. He picks you up carrying you to the living room along with your comfort blanket. He puts on your comfort show or movie.

Gojo

-He’s a very quick learner, he learned how to take care of you, what to do and what not to do. Satoru will not let you slip through his fingers he will be right there for you. When he was younger he didn’t understand what Geto was going through, now he does so he truly means he will never let you fall.

-after an evening of teaching he comes home with goodies for you and him to share, along with gossip of course to see you teary eyed on your shared bed with your day time clothe still on. The past few days just took a lot from you and he can tell. “My cutie patootie gumdrop what’s wrong?” He asks using the nicknames you laugh at but with actual concern.

-he understands if you prefer not to talk about how you feel or if something made you feel this way but he listens if you do. “If its not easy to talk about right now, we don’t have to” he says softly. Satoru sits at the edge of the bed with you as he gentle wipes off your makeup. After running you a bath and getting you settled in for the evening you both lay in bed eating the sweets he brought home for the two of you.

-it doesn’t matter if he is up all night, he makes sure that you some how get one rest if you have a hard time getting sleep. But if you sleep for long periods of time he lets you. You guys even take naps together, he puts on rains sounds or white noise, your stuffed animals and fluffy bedsheets.

-Satoru makes sure you eat something, big or small portions all that matters is you eat. Along with medication, he even gets you a sweet treat to eat after you take it along with kisses all over your face. “Now that the hard part is done” he kisses your cheek “we can do what you want” he gives you another kiss on the cheek. “We can watch a movie, or that new season of that show you wanted to watch?”

-the next morning after you’ve been going through it you wake up to the curtains slightly open letting some sunshine in with flowers on your nightstand and piece of media you’d been eyeing lately. Along with the smell of breakfast flowing through the apartment.

Geto

-as we know he’s been through this himself so he can spot it a mile away, he stops you mid way as you are trying to make a cup of coffee/tea for yourself. “I can make it, go sit I’ll bring it to you” he say with compassion and a small kiss to your forehead.

-when all you want to do is curl into a ball and do nothing, he lets you but he never leaves your side. Even when its hard he tries to take care of you, getting you to eat or take a shower together. He wants to make this go away for you, so you don’t stuffer anymore. You don’t deserve to suffer.

-if something is bothering you he encourages you to talk about what made you fall into this pit, if he’s able to fix it he will. Annoying coworker or boss that wont leave you alone? That’s too bad they went missing.

-he doesn’t want you to be alone he wants to be right there with you. He cups your face as your tears fall, his thumb wipes them away. “Breath in 1..2..3..4..5, hold it. Breath out 1..2..3..4..5” he says quietly looking into your eyes. “The storm will pass I promise” he says before kissing your cheeks lovingly.

- The curtains are slightly open as the sun goes down your head gentle resting on his thigh as he gently plays with a strand of your hair whiling reading to you.

Yuji

-he loves making you smile and laugh, he will do anything to make you happy. His heart aches when he notices the depression coming back again, he just wants to pick you up and run from it so you never feel that way ever again.

-yuji will take a shower with you while a playlist of your favorite songs are playing, he understands if you just want to get in and out to lay back down so he takes care of washing your body and hair. He gives you a back massage too. He gives you his favorite hoodie that smells like his cologne, it’s a pull over hoodie that he got for his birthday.

-he read somewhere that your environment impacts your mental health so when you go through this he cleans the apartment and lights candles that are your favorite scent.

-holds you all day, all night and every moment that he can. Giving you forehead kisses or kisses on top your head. You guys also have a movie marathon until you feel better, he always lets you pick what you watch.

-has many many many reminders in his phone to remind you to take your medication if you take any. He will even make you milkshakes to take with it.

Megumi

-like nanami he is very observant especially about the ones he loves, he always keeps tabs on you so when it rises he’s ready to take care of you and be there. Doesn’t want you to lift a finger, he just wants you to ride this out. “I promise it won’t last forever, you will come out on top” he says before kissing your temple.

-when he washes your hair and body for he also is washing the bedding. He added essential oils like lavender or eucalyptus to help with calmness.

-pulls you gently to lay on his chest as you drift back asleep. You both take long naps together, you always wake up in his arms.

-he already reminds you everyday to take your medication, this is no different. Expect he got you a new plushy along & your favorite candy along with your refill.

-when he’s up making dinner you got up to use the bathroom, on your side of the bed on the floor you find a stick and a chew toy along with both the dogs on your side of the bed. When realizing you got up they both stood up to follow.

A/N: I really hope you like this! Ur so sweet thank you for saying that! As someone who struggles with depression this made me smile. For anyone going through it, you’ll get through it babes I promise. Plz try drinking water & getting something in your stomach. You deserve amazing things and to take care of yourself.

[thedemoninme141]

The Maiden Of Death Part 2

Summary: You finally needed Wednesday for something and she learns some interesting things about you in exchange and yet she wants to know more.

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3- Part 4--Part 5

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 5.8K-ish Warnings: Nothing Really? I guess roles reversed by Wednesday getting her feelings hurt just a tiny bit so a little angst?

The walk back from the bus station was a quiet one. Even Enid, who could usually fill any void with her endless chatter, seemed reluctant to speak. She kept glancing at you nervously, as though unsure whether to say something or not. Eugene walked close to her, shielding himself behind her as if you were radiating gamma rays.

You didn’t so much as glance back at the others, walking as if you were alone in the world.

Wednesday lagged behind slightly, her dark eyes fixed on you. Questions churned in her mind, but she knew that asking them outright would show her curiosity. And she would never, under any circumstances, let you know how deeply you intrigued her.

Still, the scene from earlier refused to leave her mind. The way you had dismantled those boys, it wasn’t just violence. It was precision, efficiency, calculated as if you had done this hundreds of times before.

But what stuck out the most was what she didn’t see. You hadn’t conjured any weapons. You hadn’t used whatever strange ability had allowed you to summon a parrying knife in the library.

Why?

The question burned at the edges of her thoughts. She tried to dismiss it at first, reasoning that it was none of her concern. But the more she tried to push it away, the more it consumed her. If you could summon a weapon in an instant, why bother with a bat and a chain? Why risk getting your hands dirty when you didn’t have to?

Without realizing it, she had quickened her pace and was now walking beside you. Your focus was still straight ahead as if you knew Wednesday is going to ask something.

The quiet stretched between you two, until Wednesday broke it.

“Why didn’t you just conjure a weapon?”

The question was direct, delivered with her usual bluntness.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even glance her way.

Wednesday’s irritation flared. “It would have been faster. Cleaner. More effective.”

Still, you said nothing.

Enid and Eugene exchanged worried glances behind you. They really don't want to be caught between crossfire.

“Are you going to ignore me?” Wednesday pressed.

You finally stopped walking. Turning slightly, you met her gaze with a calmness that bordered on unsettling. For a moment, Wednesday thought you might ignore her again. But then, in a voice devoid of emotion, you said, “I can conjure weapons that I’ve… earned. Weapons that have accepted me. All of them are lethal.”

You didn’t elaborate. You didn’t explain. You simply turned and continued walking, leaving her standing there with more questions than answers.

Wednesday followed in silence, her mind racing. What did you mean by “earned”? And what exactly did a weapon have to do to “accept” someone?

She wanted to push further, to demand an explanation, but she stopped herself. It wasn’t hesitation, she told herself. It was strategy. She would learn the truth eventually, there was no need to rush.

But as she watched you walking ahead, your shoulders relaxed, your posture indifferent, Wednesday couldn’t shake the feeling that you were hiding something. Something deeper. Darker.

You were a puzzle, and Wednesday Addams would solve you.

No one exchanged a word until the four of you reached the main building. You walked away from the group without so much as a glance back. No goodbye, no acknowledgment of the people who had trailed after you all day.

Enid watched you go, a small frown tugging at her lips. “She could’ve at least said bye,” Enid sighed and nudged Wednesday. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m exhausted, and you’ve probably got some brooding to do or whatever.”

They walked in silence back to their shared dorm room. Enid occasionally glanced at Wednesday, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

When they finally reached their room, Enid flopped onto her bed with a dramatic groan.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “Y/N is just… wow. She’s like… you but not you. Does that make sense?”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She was already at her desk, pulling out a book and flipping it open. But despite her best efforts, the words on the page blurred together, her focus slipping.

“She’s so quiet,” Enid continued, propping herself up on her elbows. “Like, quieter than you, and I didn’t think that was possible."

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the edge of her book.

“Did you see how she looked at those guys? Like they were… I don’t know, bugs or something. And then wham! Down they went. I mean, I get it, they deserved it, but still.”

“She handled it,” Wednesday said finally, her voice flat.

Enid rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she handled it, but it was… intense. And you don’t think I didn’t notice you staring the whole time."

“I wasn’t staring,” Wednesday snapped, her tone defensive.

Enid smirked, sitting up fully now. “Oh, you were staring. I don’t blame you, though. She’s… interesting. In a creepy, mysterious way. I mean, you two could totally be related or something. Have you asked your parents if you lost a twin or something?"

Wednesday ignored her, her eyes fixed on the pages of her book, though she hadn’t absorbed a single word.

The truth was, Enid wasn’t entirely wrong. You were interesting, irritatingly so. You were like a distorted mirror image of her, similar in some ways but fundamentally different in others. The quiet, the detachment, the sharpness, it all felt too familiar and yet so different.

As the night wore on, Enid sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop, scrolling through social media and occasionally humming under her breath. Wednesday remained at her desk, engrossed in her book, though her thoughts strayed far from the text.

“Huh,” Enid said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What?” Wednesday asked without looking up.

“Of course Y/N doesn’t have anything social. Can’t find her anywhere.” Enid frowned at her screen, scrolling furiously. “No Instagram, no Snapchat. It’s like she doesn’t exist. Does she even have a phone?”

“Maybe she doesn't want to be a slave to modern technology either,” Wednesday said coolly, though the revelation piqued her interest. "And why are you so concerned with finding her online?”

“Why are you so concerned with finding her online?” “Because I wanted to write a blog post about her!!!” Enid said, her eyes wide with excitement. “And, don’t you want to know more about her? Where she’s from? Why she’s here? What her deal is?”

Of course Wednesday wanted to know. She just wasn’t about to admit that to Enid.

Instead, she closed her book with a deliberate snap and said, “If she wanted us to know, she would have told us.”

“Or maybe she’s waiting for someone to ask her,” Enid countered.

Wednesday didn’t reply. For a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to ask you. How she would ask you. The thought annoyed her. She wasn’t supposed to care about such things. And yet, here she was, her mind tangled up in questions about you, questions she didn’t know how to ask, questions she wasn’t even sure you’d answer.

The calculated knocks startled neither of them, it was gentle but deliberate, three slow raps against the wood. Enid glanced up first. “Uh, I'll go get it.”

She hopped up and padded to the door, opening it cautiously. Her eyes widened when she saw you standing there, hands tucked into the pockets of your black hoodie.

“Is she here?” you asked.

Enid blinked, clearly surprised, before nodding and stepping aside, opening the door wider. Wednesday finally turned in her seat, and there you stood… you didn’t step in.

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed, reading your body language in an instant. You wanted to speak to her, but not here, not with Enid present. She closed her book before standing and as she passed Enid, she motioned with a small, firm gesture for her roommate to stay inside and close the door.

She stepped out into the hall, brushing past you with just enough space to show her own sense of control. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even seem fazed as Enid let out a defeated sigh and shut the door behind them.

The hall was empty, silent. You didn’t waste time. “There’s another library in Nevermore.” It wasn’t a question. “Where is it?”

The Nightshade Library. Hidden deep within Nevermore, its entrance disguised behind one of the worst puzzles she has ever solved, "Snap twice", Couldn't they make it a bit more challenging?

“Why do you think I would know where it is?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

You tilted your head slightly, as if evaluating her. “Because if anyone knows, it’s you.”

The faintest flicker of satisfaction crossed Wednesday’s face. She liked being recognized for her intellect, especially by you.... wait what?

“And if I did know?” she countered. “Why would I share that information with you?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you leaned against the wall, your dark eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her feel, for the first time in a long while, as if someone were looking through her rather than at her.

“What do you want?” you asked finally, your voice low and measured.

Wednesday hesitated. She could deny her curiosity, feign disinterest, but she knew you would see through it. So she decided on honesty, or at least a version of it.

“I’ve solved enough mysteries to recognize one when I see it,” she said, her tone steady. “And you, Y/n, are a mystery. You’re here for something. At first, I suspected it was something sinister, but…” Her lips twitched ever so slightly, not quite a smile. “Your actions at the shop earlier today disproved that theory. Not that I’m impressed or anything.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to Wednesday’s surprise, your lips curved into a faint smirk.

“One good deed doesn’t fix a thousand sins.” you said.

It was the first time she had seen you smirk, and something about it unsettled her. It wasn’t the smirk itself, it was the fact that it felt… earned. As if it was meant for her and her alone.

And it lingered only for a sceond before fading.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said. “I’ll tell you about me. Not everything, but enough to satisfy your curiosity. How much depends on how much you help me get what I need.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together, her mind working rapidly to process your words. This was a gamble, a game of secrets and trust or lack thereof. And yet, she found herself intrigued.

“Very well,” she said finally. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll be satisfied with scraps. If I’m helping you, I’ll expect substance, not crumbs.”

You didn’t respond, but something in your gaze shifted, a silent acknowledgment of her terms. Without another word, you turned and began walking down the hall.

Wednesday followed, her steps light and deliberate, her mind churning with questions. What were you looking for in the Nightshade Library? Why were you so guarded? And why... why did she feel something seeing your smirk?

The statue of Edgar Allan Poe was just ahead as the two of you stopped.

Wednesday stepped forward, she glanced at you, her dark eyes daring you to comment. You remained expressionless, giving her nothing, as always.

She snapped her fingers twice.

The faint clicking of mechanisms echoed, and the statue shifted. Its heavy base slid back, revealing a dark staircase spiraling downward.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way down the stairs.

Once at the center of the library, Wednesday turned to face you. “What are you looking for?”

“That’s not part of the deal.” You said as your eyes were scanning the shelves, skipping over rows of books as though you instinctively knew what you sought. She internally sighed for even offering to help.

It didn’t take long. Your gaze landed on a dusty, leather-bound tome nestled deep in the recesses of a high shelf. The book was thick and worn, and it was tightly bound by some sort of green metallic wires. It was dusty, untouched for ages like most of the books here.

As you reached for it, Wednesday approached, her curiosity clearly piqued. She peered over your shoulder as you pulled the book free, revealing its cracked and worn leather cover etched with strange, arcane symbols. You carried it to a nearby table and set it down carefully, your fingers brushing away the layers of dust.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Before you could answer or more likely refuse to answer, a faint sound from behind you drew your attention.

Without hesitation, you conjured a katana in one fluid motion. You spun on your heel, the blade slicing through the air, and lunged.

The blade sang through the air as you moved with precision, grabbing the intruder and shoving him against the bookshelves. Xavier’s mask clattered to the ground as he struggled against your grip, your blade pressed firmly against his throat.

“Wait, wait, wait! Stop! Whoa! Whoa!” Xavier stammered, his wide eyes darting between the blade and your impassive face.

Wednesday smirked, crossing her arms as she observed the scene. “You shouldn’t have stopped,” she mocked dryly. “Xavier could use an upgrade. He might finally get the touch he needs so much! Getting rid of his face.”

Xavier shot her a panicked glance. “Not helping, Wednesday!”

One by one, they all came out, the members of nightshade society—Bianca, Ajax, Yoko, Kent and Divina.

“You can’t just bring whoever you want down here,” Bianca snapped. “This place is supposed to be a secret.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, her smirk deepening. “Clearly, it’s not much of a secret if you’re the ones guarding it.”

Bianca shot her a warning look before turning her gaze to you. “You don’t belong here,” Bianca said, her voice cold. “And in case you didn’t know, Ajax can stone you, and Yoko is faster than you’ll ever be. So I’d think twice before trying anything.”

You didn’t even flinch. Instead, you tilted your head slightly and replied in an even, calm tone, “Do you want to try?”

The group exchanged uncertain glances. Wednesday noted the faint flicker of fear in their eyes, a reaction she found... satisfying.

Yoko stepped forward, chuckling softly. “I’m not faster than you. Don’t mind Bianca; she’s still feisty from getting beaten by you in fencing.” She shot a playful look at Bianca, who scowled in response. Yoko’s grin awkwardly widened as she pulled Bianca back, making way for you.

“By the way,” Yoko added, glancing at Xavier, who was still pinned to the bookshelf, “can I make a tiny request? Not really important, but maybe let go of him before he has a heart attack?”

Your gaze shifted to Xavier, the look in your eyes promising, If you try that again, I won’t stop my sword next time. Slowly, you pulled the blade back as it vanished into the air as you unconjured it.

Without sparing another glance at the group, you reached for the book, tucking it under your arm as you turned to leave.

Wednesday followed, pausing only to glance over her shoulder at the stunned group. “I’d say it was nice catching up, but I’d be lying.”

You didn’t speak as Wednesday walked behind you. She didn’t expect you to. But the weight of unanswered questions was pressing on her. Finally, she broke it.

“What’s in the book?” she asked,

“Information,” you replied simply.

She frowned slightly, pressing further. “Information about what?”

“Not me.”

The two words were curt, but their meaning was clear. Wednesday’s mind immediately clicked back to the terms of your deal. She had taken you to the Nightshade Library, and in return, you had promised to answer her questions about yourself. But this book wasn’t part of that exchange. It was something else entirely.

“Fine,” Wednesday said “Now it’s my part of the deal. I ask you questions about yourself, and you answer truthfully. Do not attempt to lie. I can tell the difference.”

Finally, you stopped and turned. There was something unreadable in your expression—calm, detached, as always, but then it shifted. Slowly, deliberately, your lips curled into the faintest smirk. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Wednesday caught it.

That smirk.

She hadn’t seen any emotion on your face Enid had tried to engage you, when the Nightshade Society had surrounded you with suspicion and hostility. She had only seen it when it was only you and her, it was there, just for her.

It was... unsettling.

Before Wednesday could dwell on it, your voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Ask your questions and be done with it.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched behind her back as her mind raced through the countless questions she wanted to ask. But she knew she had to start somewhere.

“Why are you really here?”

You raised an eyebrow.

"What did you do at your last school to get transferred here, or did you come willingly?” she elaborated.

“I came willingly,” you said without hesitation, your voice calm, as if the answer was obvious.

“Why?” she pressed.

“I had work.”

“Work?”

“Demon hunting.”

It was so matter-of-fact, so devoid of emotion, that Wednesday was momentarily speechless. She blinked, half-expecting that smirk to return, telling her it was sarcasm. But you didn’t. Your face remained neutral, your posture relaxed yet guarded, as if you had just told her something as mundane as the weather forecast.

“What… what does that mean?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense.

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” you said evenly. “I get hired to hunt demons. My father trained me.”

The words landed with an almost tangible weight. Wednesday prided herself on her composure, but even she found it difficult to mask the intrigue and unease bubbling inside her.

Her mind raced. Demon hunting? It sounded absurdly dangerous, but the calmness with which you spoke of it suggested otherwise. Still, she found herself grappling with the idea of someone her age taking on such a task.

“How old are you?” she blurted before she could stop herself. She instantly hated how curious she sounded, but the question lingered nonetheless.

You rolled your eyes, the closest thing to irritation she’d seen from you. “I age normally. I’m your age.”

It was such a simple answer, but it left her with more questions than before. Why would someone your age be hunting demons? Why would your father send you to Nevermore now? And more importantly, why did you move through the world with such deadly precision, like you were always preparing for the next fight?

“Why do you hunt demons?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, you simply looked at her, your expression unreadable. Then, finally, you said, “I think the questions you’ve asked are enough payment for your assistance.”

It wasn’t a refusal, but it was a wall, just like the one's she has built around herself. You weren’t going to answer. Not now. And yet, the way you avoided the question only made her more determined to uncover the truth. Wednesday wasn’t used to being denied, and she found the challenge you presented both infuriating and... intriguing.

She followed you silently as you began walking again, her gaze flicking to the book in your hands.

“Demons,” she finally said, her voice slicing through the quiet. “What are they exactly? Giant monsters? Beasts with claws and fangs? Creatures of folktales?”

You didn’t answer as if her words had evaporated into the night air.

The lack of response was infuriating and Wednesday wasn’t even surprised. She had expected resistance. Still, she persisted. “You claim to hunt them. Surely you can describe what it is you face. Or do you find it amusing to leave me in ignorance?”

Again, you didn’t respond, and Wednesday’s jaw tightened. Her dark eyes flicked to the book you held, its worn cover and metallic bindings catching the faint light. Now the book intrigued her just as much as you did.

Her mind raced with possibilities. She couldn’t simply take the book from you; you would sense her intent before she could act.

Dispatching Thing to steal it was out of the question as well. She could already envision the outcome: you sensing Thing’s presence, catching him mid-act, and possibly doing something drastic. The way you had nearly sliced Xavier’s throat in the blink of an eye without any hesitation just for sneaking up on you... No, she couldn’t risk Thing. She would need another way to learn more.

Her voice cut through the silence again. “Your swordsmanship, was that something your father taught you?”

This time, you slowed your steps, just enough for her to notice. For a fleeting moment, something flickered in your eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“No,” you said simply. “I figured that out.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together in disbelief. “You figured that out?” she repeated, her tone laced with skepticism. “No one simply ‘figures out’ swordsmanship. It takes years of training, discipline—”

You interrupted her “I figured it out,” you repeated, leaving no room for argument.

Frustration simmered beneath Wednesday’s composed exterior. Your cryptic responses were as infuriating as they were intriguing. She couldn’t fathom how someone could master a skill like that without instruction. But then, nothing about you followed conventional logic.

The two of you reached the steps to Ophelia Hall, for a moment, it seemed the conversation was over, but Wednesday’s curiosity refused to let her remain silent.

When the hallway to her dorm came into view, her frustration boiled into something she rarely allowed herself to feel: desperation. You had what you wanted now. There was no more reason for you to seek her out, no leverage she could use to force you into another exchange.

This was it.

For the first time, Wednesday Addams felt the sting of helplessness. And she hated it.

As you turned to leave, something in her snapped. “Wait.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “What?”

Her mind scrambled for something, anything to keep the conversation from ending. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. “Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“The way you beat me,” she clarified, her tone sharpening as if to mask the vulnerability behind her request. “During our last fencing match.”

You turned fully now, facing her.

She continued, her voice cool and measured. “I know how to handle a rapier. I’ve studied various forms of swordsmanship. But the technique you used—it's unlike anything I’ve seen. It could prove… useful.”

“Useful?” you repeated, your tone neutral but tinged with curiosity

Wednesday hesitated for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it coming up with something. “Yes. I’ve been meaning to put Bianca in her place again. Your technique might be just the thing to humiliate her properly.”

“And what makes you think I’d teach you?”

She rolled her eyes as her tone sharpened. “It’s not a matter of ‘teaching.’ You wouldn’t need to explain. I can observe. All I need is for you to demonstrate. You seem to enjoy a challenge. Consider this one.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying her. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Wednesday felt her irritation flare. That expression again. She hated how it made her feel—off-balance, as though you were the one dissecting her.

“I’ll think about it,” you said at last.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting right now,” you replied.

You turned without another word, continuing down the hall toward your dorm. Wednesday remained rooted to the spot. Her thoughts spiraled, replaying every word, every glance, every flicker of emotion you had allowed her... only her to see.

She had what she wanted, another thread to pull, another opportunity to uncover more about you. But even as she told herself it was all for the sake of satisfying her curiosity, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered otherwise.

She ignored it. Or at least, she tried to.

When Wednesday stepped into her room, Enid bolted upright in her bed,

“Wednesday! Oh my god, you’re finally back!” Enid whisper-yelled, her voice a mix of relief and exasperation. She clutched her phone like it was her emotional support animal.

“I was so scared you were out there doing something... you know... Wednesday-ish. And with Y/N? Are you kidding me? I thought for sure I was gonna get a text saying you’d been arrested. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Wednesday finally replied, “that I do not require your approval or your concern.”

Enid huffed, crossing her arms over her pink top, “Well, someone has to worry about you because you clearly don’t!” She paused, “Anyway... how was the date?”

Wednesday froze mid-step as she turned to face Enid. “Excuse me?”

“The date,” Enid said, emphasizing the word with a mischievous grin. “You know, you and Y/N, sneaking off together into the night, exchanging cryptic looks and intense vibes. Classic romance. Sooo... how did it go?”

Wednesday glared at her, the look sharp enough to cut glass. “It wasn’t a date, Enid. It was an interrogation. One that, I might add, yielded frustratingly little information.”

Enid flopped back onto her bed dramatically, groaning. “Ugh, you’re no fun. How can it not be a date? I mean, the two of you are so...” She gestured vaguely, her hands mimicking some kind of explosion. “...tension-y.”

“Tension-y is not a word,” Wednesday deadpanned, moving toward her wardrobe to retrieve her nightclothes. She disappeared behind the changing screen, her voice carrying through. “And whatever you imagine my interactions with Y/N to be, I assure you, they are nothing of the sort. It was just an exchange of information, nothing more.”

“You’re no fun. Fine, it wasn’t a date. But you can’t deny there’s something going on between you two. Totally intense. And you-”

“Enough, Enid,” Wednesday cut her off, climbing into bed. “If you insist on fantasizing about my personal life, at least do so silently. I require rest.”

Enid rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine, fine. Goodnight, Wens. Sweet dreams of a certain someone.”

Wednesday groaned internally as she closed her eyes, letting the darkness of sleep swallow her. But even as her mind began to drift, she couldn’t help but replay your last words to her: “I’ll think about it.”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked over the students passing by. You should be here, she thought, where are you?

“You’re weirdly quiet this morning,” Enid noted, glancing at Wednesday as they approached their table with breakfast “Not that you’re usually a chatterbox, but still.”

“I was reflecting on the peaceful silence I enjoyed before you began speaking,” Wednesday replied dryly.

Enid rolled her eyes but let it slide. The two of them sat down, Enid immediately reaching for the stack of waffles in front of her.

“So,” Enid began between bites " I was thinking-"

"Truly a groundbreaking moment in history." Wednesday muttered.

“Ha ha,” Enid said sarcastically. “As I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and we need to form a team.”

Wednesday sipped her coffee, unimpressed. “You mean, you need to form a team. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on!” Enid said, pouting. “Last year was so much fun, and we actually won! Don’t you want to keep the streak alive?”

“No.”

“Please? Pretty please?” Enid got out her puppy eyes.

Wednesday sighed, setting her cup down with more force than necessary. “Why don’t you find someone else? I have better things to do.”

“Well,” Enid said, fidgeting with her fork, “that’s the thing. One of the girls on our team transferred out after all the drama last year. So... we’re already down a person even if you join.”

“Tragic,” Wednesday said dryly.

"And everyone seems too afraid to participate, no one seems to come up... So I was actually thinking about asking Y/N to join too.”

Wednesday froze. Slowly, she turned to face Enid, her eyes narrowing. “You were planning to ask her?”

“Yeah,” Enid said brightly, oblivious to Wednesday’s sudden tension. “I mean, if she says yes, you and her in the same team? We will have the most unstoppable team in Nevermore history. And if she says no... well, I’ll just have to work extra hard to convince her.”

Wednesday didn’t respond, her mind preoccupied with conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, she had no desire to participate in another Poe Cup. On the other, the idea of you aligning with Enid’s cheerful chaos—and possibly bonding with her—left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

Finally, Enid broke the silence. “So? Are you in?”

She let out a tired sigh. “Fine. I’ll join your team. But only because your incessant whining is insufferable.”

Enid beamed, clapping her hands together. “Yes! You won’t regret it, Wens. We’re going to crush everyone. And when Y/N joins, it’ll be game over for the competition.”

Wednesday didn’t share Enid’s enthusiasm, but she couldn’t deny a flicker of curiosity. If you agreed to join the team, it would be yet another opportunity to observe you up close, to understand what makes you- you.

“Ready to lose, Addams?” Bianca asked, adjusting her grip.

“I don’t lose. I simply assess flaws in my opponents’ technique until they defeat themselves.”  Wednesday replied, stepping into position.

Strike, parry, lunge—her movements were precise, calculated, and relentless. But even as she focused on the match, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Where are you?

You weren't at breakfast, You hadn’t appeared for fencing class. She told herself it was curiosity, maybe her need for a rematch, nothing more. But the faint pang of disappointment at not seeing you was a feeling she couldn’t entirely suppress.

Bianca’s blade grazed Wednesday’s shoulder, snapping her attention back to the match.

“Distracted today, Addams?” Bianca taunted, taking the advantage to press forward.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t allow anyone, least of all Bianca, to expose a moment of weakness. With a swift disengage and a perfectly timed riposte, she scored a touch on Bianca’s chest, earning a point.

“Hardly,” Wednesday replied, her voice icy.

The match ended in her victory, as expected, but it felt hollow. Even as she returned her rapier to its rack and packed away her gear, her mind kept circling back to you.

Alchemy class had started precisely ten minutes ago. Wednesday sat at her station, her notebook open and pen poised, ready to absorb whatever instruction was given. Despite her usual attentiveness, her gaze kept flicking to the door.

It wasn’t until the teacher began explaining the chemical interactions of reagents in transmutation circles then you finally entered.

You walked in as if you owned the room. No apology, no explanation. Your footsteps were measured, calm, as though arriving late was entirely intentional. The other students turned to look, whispering to one another, but you ignored them all. And took the empty seat beside Wednesday.

She waited for you to offer some explanation, but none came.

Finally, she leaned slightly toward you, her voice low enough not to attract attention. “Where were you?”

Without even looking at her, you replied, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”

The curt dismissal sent a flicker of irritation through her. She narrowed her eyes, studying your profile.

“Interesting,” Wednesday said, her tone flat but with a razor’s edge. “Your penchant for evasion is almost as impressive as your talent for making enemies.”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of my every move. Should I start providing hourly updates?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t relevant,” Wednesday countered.

"I fail to see how my schedule has any bearing on your life.” you replied, turning your attention to the potion ingredients laid out in front of you.

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around her pen.

After last night, she had thought they had... progressed, in some way. Not to friendship, she didn’t entertain such trivialities, but to something more than this cold indifference.

Evidently, she was wrong.

She turned her attention back to the professor, though her thoughts remained stubbornly fixed on you.

When class ended, Wednesday packed her things with more force than necessary. You, as usual, seemed unbothered, moving at your own unhurried pace.

She considered leaving without a word, but the thought of you dismissing her again was unbearable.

As the two of you exited the classroom, she matched your stride.

She didn’t speak immediately, her mind grappling with the questions swirling in her head.

Finally, she broke the silence. “About last night.”

“What about it?” you asked, not looking at her.

“I thought we had reached some… understanding,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

You finally turned to look at her, your eyes sharp and unyielding. “I told you what I’d tell you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her jaw tightened. “And the demonstration you promised?”

“I didn’t promise anything,” you said evenly. “I said I’d think about it.”

“And?” she pressed.

“I haven’t had time to think about it,” you replied, your tone dismissive.

“You seemed to have plenty of time last night.” she said.

Your lips quirked slightly, not quite a smirk but close. “You think too highly of yourself if you believe I’ve spent the entire night pondering your request. And now that I do think about it, I don’t see why it matters. You’re not worth wasting my time.”

The words struck Wednesday harder than she expected. She kept her face impassive, but inside, a strange, unfamiliar ache bloomed. Her jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. She hated the way her chest ached, hated the vulnerability that threatened to surface.

But she would never let you see it.

“I see,” Wednesday said finally, her voice icy. “Then perhaps I shouldn’t waste any more of your valuable time.” Without waiting for a response, she quickened her pace, leaving you behind. Behind her, your steps slowed, and she resisted the urge to look back.

Botany class passed in a blur for Wednesday. The usually calming task of handling deadly poisonous plants gave no solace. Her mind churned with your words, replaying them over and over. She hated how much they stung, hated the power you seemed to wield over her thoughts.

And yet, when class ended, you approached her.

��Meet me behind the greenhouse,” you said, your voice low and deliberate. “After the sun falls.”

Before she could respond, you turned and walked away. She hated how you left her with more questions than answers. But despite herself, she knew she would meet you.

Part 3

[A/n: Tried another new route, in most fics I see that it is the reader character who earns Wednesday's smile, so I thought I should reverse the roles a bit, how did you guys like this one?]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax

[cup1drul3z]

★ — Between the lines

CW : meanie sevika, artist reader, hockey player vi and sevika, modern au, highschool shenanigans, fluff?

A/N : no smut first chaptor :(

Summary : star hocky player sevika has to take an art glass in order to graduate from highschool, fate assigns her to the same class as you and her rival

Sevika hated this. She was on the brink of graduating, being the final semester of her senior year of highschool. She had gotten a hockey scholarship to college, she was supposed to meet with the counselor on the first day after Christmas break to talk about further plans. She was on her high horse, until—- “Sevika you haven’t taken any art classes at all.” Her eyes widened at the counselor's words “what? Of course I have I mean my freshman year I probably have?” She tried to reason, sitting up from her relaxed posture. “It’s okay. We can fix this. You can take an art class for this semester and if you pass you can graduate” Sevika smiled, it’s art. Easy peasy. She can do that, it's just a bunch of wusses coloring? 

You were a junior in highschool. You’ve known what you wanted to do since 6th grade. You wanted to be an artist, and you were good at it too, passing all of your art classes with ease. Anytime you had any open periods you would take an art class, it doesn’t matter if you’ve already taken it. You rub your face while sitting in your car taking a deep breath in before stepping out . It was January so it was still cold out, you cross your arms shielding your hands from the cold. as you walk to the building. The chatter of the hallways filled your ears. You groan, moving your hands to your ears. You’d rather freeze to death then spend another minute with these assholes

You walk to your locker noticing two people making out, blocking you from the locker. “Um excuse me?” You say softly “sorry babe I’m busy” the taller one says, you recognize her immediately, sevika. You narrow your eyes. Everyone else would move on, not wanting to risk a broken nose, but you were different to say the least. “Dude! Move.” The 3 of you look over at the voice. Violet, also a hockey player, and sevikas arch nemesis. Sevika narrowed her eyes wrapping her arm around the woman's shoulder “don’t make me ask again.” Vi crossed her arms as Sevika rolled her eyes and walked away with the girl. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, looking back at vi. “Thanks, vi” you say, opening your locker. “Guess what?” Vi leaned against the locker next to yours “hm?” You rummaged through your locker “I talked to my counselor and…” she handed you a piece of paper. You turn to her as you look down “what’s this?” You say reading it, it was…her class schedule? Your eyes landed on the text that said she had 5th period art. Your eyes widened “we have the same class together?” You smile looking up at her “it’s art. It makes your favorite class even better..you know, cause I’m there” vi said as you raised your eyebrow “ehhh actually puts a dull on it.” You tease, trying to hide your smirk “you can deny all you want, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at the nickname 

“Bye, violet” you close your locker and start walking to your first class.

Vi smirked as you walked away. She couldn’t help the bubbling feeling in her chest when she talked to you, you were Gorgeous and so smart. So talented. She thought to herself. She turned around stopping herself taking a step when she saw, pow– jinx standing there “oh-” she said looking her sister up and down “your so mindlessly in love with her, its sad” jinx smirked “ha ha” vi said sarcastically as she started walking with jinx to there class “im serious” jinx said bluntly. They fall into conversation

Sevika tried to finish her…session with the girl. But she couldn't help but feel a bit bored.  “sevika?” the girl looked up at her “what's wrong” she tilted her head. “Sorry, I uh need to go. My hockey scholarship stops me from being late, "Sevika looked down at the girl. She stepped away without another word even when the girl tried to convince her to stay. Your face kept flashing in her mind, you were so annoying. And so easy to tease, such a waste of a pretty face. Yeah she thought you were pretty, she would never say it to your face however. And it was worse. She and Sevika almost got into a few fights and risked being kicked off the hockey team, and she followed you around like a lost puppy.

You sigh, doodling on your paper with your head resting in your hand. The bell brings you out of your thoughts. You blink starting to pack up “remember your welcome back essay is do on friday!” the teacher yelled. Everyone groans, including you. You hate writing, as soon as you sit down to write your mind goes to shit. You sigh, putting your bag on, walking to your last class of the day, art. Your face flushed at the fact I went out of her way to spend time with you, of course you liked her, she was so funny and strong.

You walk into art, being one of the first people there. You sit down and pull out your pocket sketchbook. Thinking of what to draw, you sigh staring off into space. You look up at your name being called, your favorite teacher, mr wilson he was a good teacher and runs most of the art department “glad your taking this class again” he said as you smile “good too see you too” you say softly looking up at him “i need to talk to you after class.” he said “don't worry. You're not in trouble.” he said before you could ask. He goes on a rant about his break about some nightmare ski trip with his husband. You zone him out when vi walks in. She looks over at you and smiles big, walking over and sitting next to you. as the room filled in and the final bell rang

Mr Wilson goes on about the syllabus for the new students, nothing you haven't heard before so you look around at everyone, a few new students, students that she already knew and— your eyes dart over the figure in the corner, sevika. You narrow your eyes as you look towards the front of the room. Trying not to stare too long, you take a deep breath. Mr wilson handed out the syllabus to everyone but you. “There's a student you all should know,” Mr Wilson said as he wandered around the room, your heart drops as he says your name “she has taken this class at least 3 times and has passed it every time, she is who you should look up to.” you sigh looking down, avoiding everyone's gaze. Vi smirked, clearly enjoying the social embarrassment you were getting.

Sevika looked at you. Why is she here? She thought to herself. Whatever, maybe if she kept her distance it'll all be— “sevika!” Mr Wilson looked over at Sevika, she looked up. “Uh- yes?” she asked “i feel like you would do better sitting next to one of my more- experienced students” he said nervously “come sit here.” he points to the seat next to you “god damnit” you mutter looking down. Vi looked over, narrowing her eyes as her hand clenched into a fist “great.” she said way so loud “excuse me?” sevika said as she sat next to you. You were sandwiched between both of them, they were giving each other the death stare as you hold your head in your hands

The whole room was quiet, including the teacher, waiting for some kind of action between vi and sevika. “Anyway-” he said walking to the front of the room “for the first project of the semester we are doing a watercolor landscape” sevika chuckled to herself, "too easy “is this hard?” vi leaned over to you. You hesitate “i mean when i did it for the first time, it wast but it's different for everyone” you whisper back. “Its water color, we did this in grade school” you both look over at sevika “nobody asked you for your opinion” vis tone was like poison “don't.” you whisper, putting the fight down before it even started “yeah listen to your bitch” sevika muttered looking down at her note book

Before you could even process what was going on. Vi had already punched sevika, pinning her to the ground as she got a good few hits in before sevika rolled over and started hitting back. The whole class was yelling as you tried to pull sevika off of her “okay! Okay!” Mr Wilson quickly stopped the fight. Eventually sevika got off vi, vi had a black eye and sevika had a bloody nose and a few bruises on her face. “The 3 of you go to the office!” you stand up straighter, looking around almost second guessing if the teacher was talking about you “wh-what?” your voice broke “i said go.” mr wilson said 

“This is unacceptable!” the principal yelled. You three were sitting in the office. Fate decided for you to be sandwiched between them again. Vi was holding an ice pack to her eye and sevika was holding a tissue to her nose. You are trying to stop your breath from accelerating “i don't know what to do for you 2. I- i mean i give you detention! Put you in the same class” the principle stuttered, pinching his nose “see that was your first issue. Putting this orge in the same class as me!” vi said leaning forward “orge?! I'll show you orge” sevika looked over at vi “enough!” he yelled.

Your eyes were still locked on him. Vi and sevika look back at him and take a deep breath “transfer her out!” vi yelled “why don't you transfer?!” Vi opened her mouth to reply but didnt know how. Your face flushes. “Okay! Okay!” he yelled sitting down. “Sevika, vi you both get one week of after school detention, this includes any hockey practices!” sevika and vi were quick to protest. He says your name and you look up “one day of after school detention” you start hyperventilating “oh my god-” you stumble over your words “oh my god i've never been in trouble before!” you look down “calm down, prissy” sevika said “out of my office and go straight to detention. No goofing off” 

“I can't believe I'm in detention because of you!” you yell at sevika as the 3 of you walk down the hall “because of me?! Why don't you blame your girlfriend! She's the one who attacked me!” she looked down at you “she's not my girlfriend!” you yell and vi looks at you, a pang of pain punches her in the chest. She looks away. You look around for a moment before going a different way then them “where are you going detention is this way?” vi said as sevika did care she just kept walking “i'm gonna see if i can work on my art project in detention. Ill meet you there”

You tuck a peice of hair behind your ear. Pushing the door open to the art room. You couldn't hide the anger on your face if you tried “mr wilson.” you say as he looks over. You wanted to yell at him in front of everyone but you were too late. He said your name, smiling “how'd it go?” you raise your eyebrow at his words “i have detention.” you hiss “for how long? A week?” he asks not even looking up from his paper “a day.” he looks up at you “just a day? That's not so bad!” “Do you understand this can go on my permanent record? Fuck up any chance at college?” you walk forward “a day of detention? It'll be okay.” he said looking down at his paper “whatever” you rub your forehead “can i do whatever i missed in detention please?” you ask crossing your arms 

“An artistic delinquent?” he smirked “how poetic” he grabbed a large thick piece of paper and handed it to you “dont start.” you say walking out of the art class “don't get into trouble!” he yells as you walk away. “Ha ha” you mutter walking back to detention quickly. You sigh “you're late.” the monitor said “i know- i'm sorry-” “i don't care. Sit down.” you look at the classroom, sevika was sitting in the corner and vi was sitting as far as she could. You walk over to vi and sit next to her “you are here for the next hour and i hope you reflect on your actions” he sits at his desk and rests his head on it “is he sleeping?” you whisper “shh-” vi said looking back at you “give it a minute” she whispered 

After a few minutes his snores filled the room. You raise an eyebrow as you look at vi a weirded out expression on your face “I know.” vi said. You pull out your pencil bag and start sketching your landscape “i'm mad at you.” you say “why?” her voice switched to concern. You shoot a look at her. she shuts up quickly “im sorry, no one should talk about you like that.” vi argued looking you up and down “I can fight my own battles.” you say leaning forward “it seemed like you were going to just let her say that about you” vi said glancing at sevika for a moment

Sevika was trying to nap, leaning in her chair with a book covering her face. She couldn't help but listen to your conversation. The goal of the insult was to rile vi up not insult you. She felt bad but she would never actually apologize. She falls asleep thinking about you and before she knew it, it was time to go home. She blinks rubbing her eyes as she grabs her bag and hauls it over her shoulder. Catching sight of your sketch…it was beautiful. You slide it into your bag “you need a ride?” you ask looking at vi “i need to run some errands, i'll take the bus” vi smiled and cupped your cheek “you're a sweetheart.” vi said as she walked out of the class, trying to hurry in order to catch the city bus leaving you and sevika alone

“She likes you.” Sevika walked over, standing behind you. You didn't say anything as you finished packing up and threw your bag on. She walks over and grabs the strap of your bag. You look over at her with an angry face “listen. That comment…” she hesitates “i didn't mean to bring you into me and vis fight” she sighed as your gaze softens “if anyone gives you trouble, come to me not your pipsqueak of a girlfriend.” sevika didn't let you protest “she not-” sevika walked out of the room and your left standing there

Did she just– apologize?

Part 2

[buckysfaveplum]

doomsday

summary: missions don't always go according to plan, sometimes you lose people- that's the job. bucky told you that himself.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, character death, um yea this one's sad. OH and Steve is dead in this (I mean he was like 90 something in endgame...)

a/n: GUYS omg i missed youuu i hope you remember me. its been like almost two years? i moved to ireland and started grad school! things are different. buttt here’s a new fic cause i’m back!!! ANGST omg im sorryyyy.... idk I wanted to right something that hurt okay okay bye (:

masterlist | send requests

You hated funerals. 

The suffocating smell of formaldehyde and roses wafted through the wake hall. The sounds of distant friends and relatives feigning grief, playing up small interactions with the deceased as more than just pleasantries while siblings and best friends' voices seem to be gone with a lack of words to express their suffering. The stale cookies and donuts in the hall, as if someone’s lover isn’t lying in a casket 50 feet away. All wrapped up in black dresses, suits, and handkerchiefs.

You hated funerals.

Today was no exception. An agent lost on a routine mission in Guam, taking out an arms dealer terrorizing a village. There were loose connections to Hydra, but just petty violence and shootouts for nothing. It shouldn’t have resulted in the loss of an agent. But sometimes things go wrong. A gun barrel stalls, someone trips, a civilian happens to be in the way. Sometimes people die. That’s how you ended up here.

Sarah was a good agent, a great one. She was top of her class at Westpoint, went straight to the FBI, and was recruited into SHIELD- all before 30. She was good- too good for a slip-up like this.

As speeches wrapped up, family and friends began to say their goodbyes. A line formed at the casket as people poured their hearts out for the redhead you once called a friend. You waited patiently at the back, making sure you were one of the last. You always did. Maybe out of respect, perhaps guilt? Who knows. You always felt guilt, even if there was nothing to be done. There was guilt.

Finally, as the small crowd left the room, flooding into the hall outside, you made your way to the front. Laid out before you, Sarah’s curly and wild hair was in two thick braids on each side of her head, a blue dress covering her as well as a soft cream cardigan. She looked beautiful and peaceful. But she was dead. Your friend was dead. No makeup or pretty clothes would lessen that blow. The plush velvet of the casket seemed to soften the prison that her body would rest in. At every funeral, you were reminded of how you wished to be cremated.

“I’ve never seen her hair so flat,” you turned to see Bucky standing beside you.

“You know, even wet her hair always seemed to spring up. Had a mind of its own,” you said, your gaze resting on him.

He was clad in a simple black suit, an older set you’d gotten him at a vintage shop. Something familiar. A simple cream button-down, no tie. It was simple, but that was him. What was most striking though was his serene demeanor. It never seemed to settle with you how unaffected by death he was. How easily he was able to gather himself and keep going. You couldn’t blame him though, 90 years of pain, death, torture, and violence will do that to you. You’d only seen him torn up once. And it was beyond devastating. Steve. “You okay, kid?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

He was your partner, in every sense of the word. In the field, as a friend, in life. He was everything. Your taut shoulders melted under the firm comfort of his vibranium arm. You could rest in its embrace a thousand times and never cease to crave its solace when away. He was your rock through every debriefing, call to family, black dress, and smeared mascara. Who knows what you would be without him?

You rested your head on his chest, breathing in the potent smell of his old cologne and something that was distinctly Bucky. 

“I hate funerals.”

——

“Do you ever think about dying?”

Bucky’s grip on you tightened slightly at your words. Wrapped in the soft linen of your duvet and the sunlight streaming in through your windows, his body lay around yours. His short choppy locks were tousled fresh from his slumber. The previous night’s sleep had yet to let go of his consciousness fully, still cozy and relaxed in your shared bed. His vibranium fingers continued to play with your hair as he considered your question.

“Not anymore,” he said.

Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. Your fingers traced gently over the thick scars on his left shoulder. They mangled and twisted, sprouting in angry red from the line where his skin met vibranium. Shuri had done her best to soften the tissue when replacing his arm, but only so much could be done.

“I did a lot when I was first drafted. I was scared of it then. And in those early days under Hydra. It was all-consuming. But at some point, I wasn’t scared of it, I embraced it- prayed for it,” your fingers froze at his words. It was nothing new to you, you had spent countless late nights and early mornings recounting the abuse of his days as the Winter Soldier. But hearing him say flat out how he wished to die. That was jarring. “After the Blip, I’ve just become a bit numb to it. I don’t really think about it if that makes sense. It could always happen.”

His hands danced down your spine as if his words were simple.

“You expect it?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“It’s the job, Y/N. It comes with the territory. Sometimes you lose people. And it could always be you,” he said, giving you a soft look. “You know that, doll”.

“I just, I don’t expect it in the field you know?” you relaxed a bit, regretting the subject you forced upon him.

“Hey, maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it,” he said, giving you a ginger smile as he leaned close and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Death has just followed me for a long time, doll. I mean I’m a 106. I’m just not scared of it anymore.”

You tucked yourself into his chest, his words soothing the fears swirling in your mind. You knew the job was dangerous. That any mission could be the last. You just hoped it would never be him.

“Why do you always pick the heaviest topics of discussion early in the morning?” he asked, his voice still groggy from sleep. He smiled as you chuckled against his chest. 

“Probably cause I’m hungry, Plum,” you said, turning to lay on your back as you smiled up at him. 

“Yea? What could we do about that, huh?” that devilish smirk of his could stop your heart anytime and you’d be grateful. “Pancakes? Clinton St?” 

You nodded eagerly at his suggestion before taking his hand and slipping from the bed.

——

The rumbling of the quinjet shot up your spine. Sam and Bucky’s relentless bickering filled the steel jet as you came closer to your destination. Your gloved hands worked at strapping your knives to your thighs as they quarreled over how best to stain wooden beams in Sam’s living room during your and Bucky’s next trip down to Louisiana.

“No! NO! Buck, that stain doesn’t go with the accent wood in the kitchen! I already told you,” Sam said as he fixed his shield to his back. You chuckled as you walked over to them. Your backup squad, full of agents fresh from SWORD’s training academy, snickered at the two men as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“The beams are in your living room, what does it matter?” He said. 

“I wouldn’t take any interior design advice from him, he wanted a purple couch in our living room,” you said, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s waist. Sam laughed as he turned to grab the mission report. The jet was drawing close, entering stealth mode and preparing for landing.

“It was a plum color,” Bucky grumbled, nuzzling his face into your hair. 

“Okay team, huddle up!” Sam said. “This is just a simple in and out. We gotta get these hostages out safely so no risky moves- I’m lookin’ at you, Buck.”

Bucky threw his hand up in defeat, scoffing jokingly under his breath. 

“I’ll swoop through and scout entrances, Squad Two you’ll be with me for direct combat. We’re clearing out the building. Squad One, you’ll be with Y/N and Bucky, you’re getting those hostages out. You bring them straight back here, got it? There’s four so it shouldn’t be too strenuous,” he said, closing up his report before slipping on his cowl. “Alright team, let’s show ‘em what we got.”

——

Fluorescent red light filtered across your face as you slipped through the hallways. Half the squad led ahead of you, banging on doors in search of the hostages. Bucky hung close behind you, the rest of your squad keeping your entrance open for your escape. His hand rested on the gun strapped to his hip as he kept an eye on your blind spots.

Watching your back on the field was second nature to him. Protecting you, be it on the subway or in an active battle zone, was something he felt born to do. A reason to survive all those years under Hydra.

After several doors, your team stopped; having heard the pleas for help on the other end of the steel doors, they backed up to allow room for an agent to blast the lock. You stumbled back into Bucky, tripping on your own feet. His arms caught you before you could even glance at the floor. You felt his fingers gripping your hips and fidgeting with the straps on your thighs as you straighten.

“Some reflexes you got,” you whispered to him.

“Can’t let my babydoll fall,” he said, kissing the back of your head before his focus shifted back to the lock, now falling to the floor.

The agents flooded into the room, pulling hostages out and bringing them back into the hall. As they streamed out, you realized something was wrong. You only counted 3.

“Where’s the fourth hostage?” you asked. 

Bucky commed Sam, hoping he’d scanned the place and found a lead. As he spoke, you gathered the agents, giving them an order. Lead them through the building, get out to the other half of the squad, and get them into the jet. You’d meet them on the other side. You and Bucky would find the last hostage. The agents fled, leaving you and Bucky alone in the dark hallway. 

“Where are they?” you asked. Bucky sighed, as he grabbed a knife from his hip.

“In the lab in the basement, must’ve been the first to get taken,” he said.

The hostages weren’t nobodies. Prisoners were taken from SWORD on a mission to squash a newly established radical group. A group that seemed to resonate with the ideas of Hydra. This mission was all too familiar to Bucky, and all the more upsetting. You gave his free hand a firm squeeze before you turned and bolted to the lab.

You could feel the heaviness of the lab as soon as you entered the basement. The looming presence of the sterile room filled the hallways as you stalked toward it. Bucky was unusually quiet as he covered you from behind. You knew this was triggering, it had to be. He would always tell you he was beyond triggered episodes, having gotten a firm grasp on his PTSD. But you knew better. The subtle tremor in his brow told you so.

As you reached the eerie room, you stilled. Bucky came up behind you, resting a hand on your waist as you assessed the space. Metal shelves lined the walls full of jars, syringes, and test tubes. Sleek steel tables with rags soaked in blood, white grimy cabinets full of scalpels and needles, and an operating table at the center. The floors were coated in grot, each crack in the tile stained brown. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder if this condition was what Bucky was used to for all those decades.

Realizing the area was clear, you entered. Quickly, you spotted the hostage. Strapped to a chair in the corner with an IV jabbed into his arm. Bucky squeezed your arm as he headed over, slipping his knife back on his hip. 

You felt a pit growing in your stomach. You pulled your gun gently. This hostage didn’t look familiar, you thought Sam said he was a brunette, not blonde.

Bucky began to break the straps holding the man down. Slipping the IV gently from his arms, Bucky eased him up into a sitting position. He spoke to the man calmly, explaining to him who you were and that he was here to get him out. He seemed off, but Bucky just assumed it was the experimentation. He was wrong.

“Do you know who we are?” Bucky asked, helping the man up.

“I know who you are, Soldat,” the man said.

A chill ran through your legs, almost toppling you over. You reached for your gun, but the man was quicker. He was able to log four bullets into Bucky’s chest before you could get one in his skull. 

Shots rang out in the room, flooding your ears. As soon as you pulled the trigger, the man fell to the ground. Your bullet nestled into the side of his head. Your hands were shaky as the gun fell from your grasp, clattering across the floor and sending echoes through the rotting room. Of course it was a trap. The rubber of your boots squeaked as you sprinted your way over to your lover. He stumbled back against the filthy wall, his hands pressing firmly on the holes scattered across his chest.

As soon as you reached him, his legs seemed to give out. Everything in you tried to keep him up, your hands gripping the straps of his suit to keep him from surrendering to the floor. But he was too heavy. You followed him down, gathering him in your arms and holding him close. His breathing was labored and rough. Squeaks and coughs escaping from his punctured lungs haunted your ears, taunting you as you desperately tried to get him to stand.

“Baby, baby come on… you gotta get up, love,” you said, pulling him as you tried to get his attention.

His eyes were fixed on the mess in his chest. Blood bloomed across the fabric of his blue suit like a watercolor painting. His hands slipped from their place over the wounds and grasped yours. 

“Y/N…” he said. You froze at his voice. It was weak and unsteady. His grip on your hand was tight, too tight. He was always so gentle with you. As if you were glass under his hands and he was afraid you cracked. Now, he gripped you so hard you were afraid your bones would fracture.

“Bucky, you gotta get up. You’re gonna be okay,” you said as you tried to stay calm, but your voice failed you. You commed Sam, “Sam, Sam! Bucky’s down, I need help please!” 

You tried your best to stop the bleeding, tearing fabric from your pants to stuff the wound and slow the blood. But it didn’t seem to help. Bucky’s vibranium hand rose to your cheek, holding you steady. You mumbled to yourself, beginning to panic as blood spilled onto your hand; it stained the groves in your knuckles and cakes in your fingertips. Bucky’s coughing finally brought you out of your spiral. Blood began to trickle from his mouth.

“Doll…I can’t- I can’t breathe,” he said, his voice hoarse from the blood filling his throat.

“Bucky, hang on for me okay, please,” you said, your hands grasping his face and pulling yourself closer. You pressed a firm kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, you could see it in his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” you felt bile rise in your throat at his words. The reality of the situation began to set in. Sam’s glitchy voice rang through your coms but you barely registered it.

“You’re okay, plum. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay,” you said. Your voice was frantic and distraught. The need to reassure him he would make it was overwhelming. But was it for him or you? Perhaps if you kept repeating it, doomsday would stay at bay.

His hands returned to yours, grabbing them and pulling you close as another cough racked his body. Blood speckled across your hands. You were white in the face, all the color drained.

“I…I love you, kid,” he said, his grip loosening. 

“No, baby, you’re gonna be okay. Sam’s on the way, it’s-”

“Y/N, I love you,” your hands gripped his tighter, wishing the firm hold he had minutes ago would return as his hands became limp in yours.

“… I love you, Buck,” you said softly, resting your forehead on his.

You pulled him close, kissing his lips one last time. You felt his breathing slow, his lips still. You didn’t pull back, you couldn’t. You knew what would await. A thick sob slipped through your chest. 

You tucked yourself further into his body, pulling him close and wrapping your arms around him. His head rested tucked into the crook of your neck, your hand tangled into his hair. You closed your eyes as you pressed your face into his hair, your free hand stroking his back and you rocked his now limp body. And you waited for Sam.

——

The smell of formaldehyde was the same, but no roses- Bucky preferred lilacs. You didn’t want the standard service, but SWORD insisted. No speeches, except for the pastor leading the service. You didn’t want any speeches, you knew Bucky would agree. 

You sat in the back, behind the small crowd of agents, friends, and the team you had come to consider family. Sam kept looking over his shoulder, keeping an arm behind him and resting on your knee. Perhaps he was trying to stop its shaking through the service or just to bring you comfort.

The service was simple, it was quiet. It was small. But it didn’t change anything. 

You hated funerals.

**taglist has been reset! let me know if you'd like to be added**

[minnies-puppydoll]

Could you maybe do one of seungmin getting mad at you in public for wearing revealing clothes, ty!

Seungmin Drabble #1

*~Disobeying Dom Seungmin~*

pairing: hard dom!seungmin x sub!reader

warnings: MEANIE PANTS SEUNG! no smut but very suggestive, lots of degredation, reader is called a bitch, i think thats it.

note: personally…i could never disobey him but thats just me🐶 good luck with that tho!

heres ur order!! smut under the cut!!!!!!!!!!!

it was going to be a perfect night. your boyfriend seungmin finally got reservations for that fancy, expensive diner you’ve been dying to go to.

the only problem was..you were running a little late.

you took a nice, long shower beforehand, using all the scents you know he loves on you. laying out three different dresses on your bed, you quickly tried to decide which one would be the best fit for tonight’s important date.

one was grey, and wrapped your body elegantly with silk fabric. the second was light pink, with a high cut waist and a frilly bottom, seungmin loves that one. and the third…oh.

seungmin hates this dress. he specifically told you not to wear it in public anymore. its was a black, hollow out dress with sheer fabric and strings where there wasn’t your boobs or your ass showing. nothing different than a stripper dress.

now, you know seungmin better than anyone. and when he says he hates that dress, its not because its ugly in any way, shape, or form. no. the way you look in that dress could make even him fall to his knees for you.

it’s because of the attention it brings to HIS precious girl. seungmin isn’t an insecure man either, he obviously wants to show you off on his arm when you get all dolled up for him, but with THAT dress? you couldn’t even get a few feet away from him without being approached or even made a pass at.

he knows you would never leave him for another guy, he just can’t stand people sizing up his pretty little prey like wild beasts. so, you aren’t allowed to wear it per his rules, fine. but honestly, you’ve always wondered what would happen if you disobeyed him.

so..maybe you wore the dress anyway..how bad could this go, right? now the problem was, how to get there.

normally he would pick you up in his car, but you know for a fact he would make you change immediately. so that was out. maybe you could just text him?

minnieeee?

hi, sweet baby🩷 you ready to be picked up?

uhhh

hm?

actually min, can i drive myself and meet you there? i have a suprise for you.

uh oh.

WDYM UH OH

that can’t be good. you’re scaring me💀

ITS JUST A SUPRISE OKAY

…its the dress isn’t it?

..no actually! its a secret so you’ll know when i get there so i actually have to go now and walk my fish see you soon love you bye-

we’ll see.

your nerves are alight as you pull into the parking lot, biting your lip in fear and arousal at how seungmin will deal with you. you’ve never disobeyed him before, always wanting to recieve his sparing praise and not cause a fuss.

your heels click against the floor as you step into the new diner, looking like the most expensive thing there. the confidence you’re radiating is only surface level though, the truth is, if you had a tail right now it would be tightly tucked between your legs.

when the host tells you where seungmin is sitting, you hesitantly make your way over. he is indeed there, he smiles at you sweetly before looking down at that dress. that stupid fucking dress.

he looks back up into your eyes with a dissapointed, mean glare in his. if you were at home, that look would have you begging for forgiveness. you immediately look down, shying away from his gaze as you put your purse down and bow slightly at him.

“hey, seungmin..”

“sit down.”

the demand has you plopping down in your seat without hesitation. his tone is clear and calm, but equally cold.

“i thought i told you not to wear that dress. hm? or are you just too dumb and slutty to remember my rules?

oh. his harsh words make your thighs rub together, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“m’sorry..”

“sorry what.”

“so..so sorry, sir.”

“look at you. i do all these nice things for you, give you all my attention and look where it gets me. is my attention not enough? need it from the other manwhores here? i think you’re just too much of a slut to be thankful.”

his words have bite, making you equally feel bad for disobeying and almost drool from the degradation.

“yes sir, im a slut, sir.”

“i know you are.”

“just..wanted to see what you’d do..”

“want a punishment? is that what the dumb whore wants? hm?”

“um..depends what it is?”

“you don’t get to choose, stupid.”

“…well, what are you gonna do then?”

seungmin leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking at you with an amused expression. only this time do you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly. seungmin scoffs.

“don’t fucking look at me.”

your eyes shoot down, just listening to him obediently. he leans forward to whisper in your ear.

“..when we get home, im ripping that slutty stripper dress off of you for good this time. then, im gonna muzzle you and make you beg for me to pound that slutty pussy like a good bitch. then lastly..you’re writing lines, sweetheart.”

sorry for ending it there..u just look so cute when ur teased<3 order again soon!🐶